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The Watching Game

By: Hot_Sister



Author's note: All characters in this story are imaginary and bear no intended resemblance to any person, living or dead. Furthermore, everyone who engages in sexual activity in the story is over the age of 18.



I sat watching the rain on the train window - silver threads weaving erratically over the cold, wet glass. I could see my reflection there too, flitting over the darkening English countryside - the pale blur of my face with its heavy, somber brows and dark sunken eyes underscored by purple bruises of exhaustion, and the line of my mouth tense with the strain of the last few months. The tracks of the raindrops were superimposed across it like tears, and I thought how fitting that was in light of all that had happened. 

My mind drifted back over the last eight years, virtually all of them overseas. Seven of them to build the business from nothing: to find a beautiful bride, to buy the house in Seattle and to bask in growing wealth and success. I remembered the invitations and the parties, the new friends and the open doors – a rapidly spinning vortex of money and favours that was so different to what I had been used to. I remembered the excitement of it – the heady euphoria of waking up to each day knowing that it could only be better than the last, and how it had blinded me until it was too late. And I remembered the last eleven months – how the bubble had burst and the company's worth fell almost overnight to virtually nothing. The vultures gathered quickly then, stripping the remaining assets like carrion off the bone – what was left of the Company first, and then the trinkets of success – the paintings and the boats and the cars. I recalled how the friends had vanished and the invitations dried up, and the shrill voice of my wife telling me that if I couldn't keep her in the way she liked she would find someone who would. And then, finally, the bailiffs escorting me off the premises, leaving me alone in the street with barely the air fare home. 

And so here I was, Jack Travis Harrison, 30 years old and nothing to show for the past eight years except a few grey hairs and a heart full of bitterness, coming home like a beaten dog with fifty pounds in my pocket. 

The train started to slow for my station and I stood up and lifted my hold-all from the overhead rack, nodding briefly at the elderly couple in the corner of the compartment who had clung together for the whole journey as if I was an axe murderer. With a final squeal of its brakes the train stopped, and I stepped onto the dark, windswept platform. 

I wished I could say I was happy to be coming home, but I wasn't. Not like this. 

*

"Are you dead?"

The voice was pleasant: soft, with a lilt of the west country and it infiltrated into the black depths of my exhausted sleep, drawing me up towards the light of a day. I groggily opened my eyes.

"I said, are you dead?"

I managed to open one eye, even though it felt like it had been super-glued shut, and I swiveled it to locate the source of the noise. There was a girl standing at the end of my bed, dressed in a pair of working trousers and a heavy sweater. Tall – not much shorter than the low oaken beams above her head. Blonde hair, medium length so that it just touched her shoulders. An oval face with an upturned nose, a little crooked to be perfect, and a full mouth with soft lips turned up at the corners to give an impression that life was only there to be laughed at. She was leaning forward, regarding me intently with pale eyes. Curious eyes – neither friendly nor unfriendly. Just watching. 

I peered up at her without answering and for a few moments we stared at each other, and then she shrugged a little. 

"It's nine o'clock and Mum sent me to find if you were alive. She'll be pleased to hear that you are, but sorry about your speech impediment."

"Pardon?" God, was that my voice? I'd heard cement mixers with better tonal quality.

"Ah ha! You can speak! Not so much an impediment, then - more that you were struck dumb."

"Who are you?" my voice sounded like a croak.

She shook her head. "You really are out of it, aren't you! How many girls do you know who call your mother 'Mum'? Uh, let me think....uh, there's Donna Ann, your big sister, and – wait for it – Amelia Jane, your little sister." She put her head on the side with a finger to her cheek, pretending to contemplate the problem. "Unless Mum has a few others we don't know about. Hmmm. Let me think. Duh – no, probably not. So - noting that Donna is in London, who do you figure I am?"

"Amie."

She laughed briefly and clapped her hands. "Well done!"

My brain struggled to be alert, to say something clever. "It's just that I haven't seen you for so long, Amie. Last time I looked you were a little girl."

"And now?"

"Well, you'd have to admit you've changed a bit." I regarded her blearily. "Well, a lot really. You're suddenly a big girl." She was, too. Even under the baggy clothes I could sense the curves and warm plasticity of her body. 

"Not suddenly. I've been like this quite a while, while you were gallivanting around the world."

"We've spent so little time together – with you at school and me away." 

"Quit finding excuses for not knowing me!" she said. "Didn't you remember my eyes? Everyone thinks that's the only thing that hasn't changed about me."

At first her eyes had struck me as pale – almost translucent, but I could see they were actually the colour of clover honey – a pale gold like a wet beach shining in the first rays of the morning sun. They were shot through with iridescent strands of a darker hue – not enough to detract from their astonishing colour, but enough to give them depth and complexity. But it wasn't just the shade that was striking: it was their shape and intensity – not round but slightly slanted, as if someone in our distant family line had been born in the far east, perhaps; and they smoldered with a curious luminescence. Her eyes turned what would be an otherwise interesting face into something quite extraordinary. 

"I remember," I said, and she nodded briefly, as if encouraging my mental acuity. Little Amie, just ten or eleven years old and as thin as a rake, clinging to the fence post by the main road to watch me with her clear golden eyes as I drove away. She had been a small forlorn figure then, with pigtails and braces on her teeth. She was right, though – her eyes were the same – the rest of her had filled out and rounded, and I would never have recognised her. 

We looked at each other a moment longer and then she gave another little nod. "Well, I'll let Mum know that you are still alive. I guess she'll be relieved as she's cooked one of her gargantuan breakfasts. Don't be too long – she slaughtered half a farmyard to provide for you." She turned and crossed the room, and I heard her footsteps receding down the stairs. 

I lay in bed and thought about Amie, feeling foolish that I'd not recognised her – but on balance, it was unlikely I ever would. I'd last seen her ten years ago, a solemn little thing who was painfully thin and very shy, with a pale sallow face and a serious demeanor. She'd been shipped off to one of those dreadful boarding schools that English parents sometimes subject their children too, and I'd left not long afterwards for the States. Besides, I'd heard she had moved out and was living in London, so it was little wonder that my jet-lagged brain couldn't make the connection between the little thin girl and the self assured woman who had unexpectedly been in my room a few moments ago. Little Amie. Who would have thought? 

I glanced at my watch – nine o'clock, just as she had said. Pale light was filtering through the faded curtains and I pulled them aside. The rain of last night had moved on but the sky was obscured with a layer of high cloud that gave the light a hard, diffused quality that robbed it of any warmth. I remembered the view from this window used to be of open fields to the south, where the land sloped gently to the small stream that formed the boundary between our land and old Ma Curney's, but now all I could see now was the new accommodation wing that had been added to the house a couple of years ago. It had been finished the same way as the original house, with rough whitewashed stone and black edging around the three leadlight windows opposite me, but the shingles on the roof were much cleaner and it had the effect of making the new work appear taller somehow, giving the juxtaposition of old and new a curious lopsided look.

I let the curtain fall back and I swung my legs out of bed to get up. Well, well, little Amie. In the few minutes she had been in my room she had brightened things somehow, even though she hadn't smiled much. It was difficult to know how – she had said or done nothing to make me feel better, but somehow I did. I thought about it as I shaved in the little sink in the corner of the room and the word serenity came to mind – those golden eyes, not just beautiful but projecting an aura of tranquility that somehow made you feel your problems were that much less when she was around. I wondered if it was just me, or whether other people thought the same. Either way, I suddenly realised that I was feeling happier than I had for months. 

Serenity and tranquility. Two words that seemed so right when I thought about Amie. I didn't know it then, but within a day I would wonder how I could have got it so wrong. 

*

Mum was alone in the farmhouse kitchen, kneading a roll of dough on a floured board on the big table. The room was filled with the odour of baking and I for the first time for weeks I felt hungry. She held her arms out for a hug, keeping her floury hands clear as I embraced her. I held her for a moment, realizing how thin she was. 

"Your breakfast's in the oven," she said, once I had released her. "It's probably all dried up, as you're so late."

"It's only half past nine, Mum."

"That's half the day gone." She smiled to rob her words of any offence. "In this part of the world that's time enough to clean the house, muck out the stables, exercise the horses and solve world peace – and still have time to bake."

I laughed. "Which of those have you done?"

"This is the last one." Her hands were kneading the dough, pressing it down and folding it in the methodical, neat way she had of working. I could see it was almost ready to put into the greased baking trays by her side. 

I took my plate from the oven and sat at the end of the table, watching her as she worked. She would be just fifty now, but she looked older. Her hair was heavily streaked with grey and there were lines of worry and fatigue etched into her face that hadn't been there last time I'd seen her – but she moved with the same energy and purpose that had driven her all her life. 

"You should slow down, Mum."

"Ha!" She shook her head in dismissal. "What would I do that for? There's far too much to be done. I'd get bored stiff."

"Not stop – just slow down. Get a bit of time for yourself. Find a bloke and have a bit of fun."

She shook her head. "I don't have time."

"Well, get out a bit then - enjoy some company. Don't you get lonely here, on your own?"

She stopped working for a moment and looked at me, her hands resting lightly on the dough. "I'm not on my own – I have four children."

"I know, Mum, but I've been gone a while now and so have Jim and Donna -"

"Amie's been here, though."

"So I see. Tell me about that – does she still live here?"

Mum nodded, her hands starting to move again. "Yes, she does. When your father died I brought her home from boarding school and she's been here ever since. You had gone and Donna was in London with her fancy man and Jim left not long after. Amie and I needed each other, I guess." 

Donna was three years older than me. She was the black sheep of the family, although I never knew what had caused the rift. She had moved to London and married a stockbroker – a nice enough guy by all accounts, but Mum always referred to him as 'the fancy man.'

She was still talking and I tuned back in. "She's been a godsend to me, Jack. She works hard and has always been here for me. Never one moment of trouble."

"I'm surprised she's not married by now."

She looked up in surprise. "What makes you say that?"

"Any woman who sticks around here is usually married by 18 – and Amie's a good looking girl. Surely she has a boyfriend?"

"Not that I know of."

"A girlfriend?"

She looked at me, a hard glance. "Don't be grubby." 

I laughed. "I'm not being grubby. Some people like partners of their own sex, Mum –there's nothing wrong with it."

She shook her head. "Not Amie...she's not like that. She's a good girl, not like your other sister." 

I laughed again. "Donna's not a lesbian."

"I don't want to talk about it." 

She was getting upset, so I moved on. "So tell me about Amie, Mum. Did she finish school?"

"Oh, yes – the local high school. She passed out near the top of her class, and is at university now doing a land management degree." She smiled. "You'd never think that she could manage all that and work around the farm and help me in the house, but she does."

"Maybe that's why she doesn't have a boyfriend." 

She shook her head. "Amie's strong willed, Jack. She'll find someone when she's ready...although I don't know what I'd do without her. She's marvelous." She stood back, regarding her work. "Could you put these in the oven for me? I'll get on with preparing dinner."

I picked up the trays one by one and put them in the oven. Clearly Amie could do no wrong in this house. I was beginning to feel like an interloper. 

*

The next morning I rose early to find them both in the kitchen. Amie was sitting at the table, dressed in a pair of old jodhpurs and a faded shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The skin on her arms was smooth and brown, and her hair was tied back with a piece of ribbon. She regarded me without speaking as I kissed Mum on the cheek. 

I turned to her. "Good morning, little sister."

She nodded without speaking, her eyes on my face. She had a mug of tea in her hands and an empty plate in front of her. I sat down in a chair opposite, aware of the directness of her gaze. 

"Are you busy today?" I asked. 

"I'm always busy."

"I meant, are you so busy that you couldn't show me around the farm?"

She raised an eyebrow. "A sightseeing tour?"

"No, not really." I paused whilst Mum put a place of bacon and eggs in front of me. "I thought I could start to lend a hand, perhaps."

"Doing what?"

"Well – I don't know. I mean, I won't know until I've had a look around and decided."

"What are you good at – apart from dealing with company administrators, I mean." Her eyes were still on my face and I could see a gleam of hostility in them. 

"Until I find the answer to that question you can assume that I can lift heavy things, shovel, and sweep."

"Ah – a manual labourer, then." Her glance flicked over my arms, taking in the white flesh and lack of muscle tone and her lip curled. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Look -" I lifted my mug of tea with one hand, waving it at her. "One hand, unaided."

"Impressive." 

"Wait until you see me shoveling horse shit."

"Well, there's plenty of that around here." She looked at me pointedly to ensure that I understood it wasn't all in the stables, and then she set her mug down on the table and stood up. "I'll be out the back in five minutes, and I won't wait for you any longer."

"I'll be there."

As we walked across the paddock I tried to engage her in conversation but she was clearly not in the mood to talk and so I gave up and watched her instead. She had a neat, economical way of doing things – even the way she walked – as if time was short and every second wasted was a sin. We had a quick look at the outhouses first, and then moved down to the stables where the horses were waiting for their morning feed. The building was made of timber with slate tiles on the roof, double story, and I asked her what was in the upper level. 

"Well, not horses, if that's what you're thinking." Her voice was still brusque and I wondered what had upset her. " Just general storage, mostly – saddles, harnesses, and a lot of rubbish that needs throwing out." She glanced at me. "You'll see when we get inside."

"When did Mum start the stud?"

"About nine years ago," she answered reluctantly. "It started by accident – people looking for agistment, mostly, then paying her to stable their horses. She only owns about ten of them – the rest are other people's."

"How many are there? All up I mean."

"Thirty-one."

"And what are we going to be doing with them?"

She stopped and turned to face me so suddenly that I almost bumped into her. "I'll be checking them and giving them their morning oats," she said. "And you'll be doing nothing."

I looked at her in surprise. She was staring at me, her little face stubborn and her eyes hard, and I wondered whether she was this mercurial all the time or whether it was just me. "I didn't come home to fight with you Amie," I said at length. "I don't know what I've done to upset you, but surely you can use a little help."

Her voice was scornful. "It's not a matter of being upset - it's just that I'm not sure you'd want to work with a lesbian."

I was taken aback. "What?"

"In the kitchen yesterday. Apparently you think I'm a lesbian."

"Ah, so that's it! Well, I didn't tell Mum you were one - I asked her if you were one, which is different. I never -"

"It's the same thing," she interrupted. "You were home for all of five minutes and you made a judgment about me based on nothing. What does that make you, Jack? A bigot, for a start."

"For the record, I asked her if you had a boyfriend. I told her you were very attractive, and -"

"Oh, so now I'm an attractive lesbian! I suppose you think you'll be the one to show me the wrongness of my ways!"

"- and I told her that I thought it was quite normal for some people to fancy their own sex. That's hardly bigoted."

She spun on her heel and started walking again, quicker than before, and her voice was dismissive. "You can think what you damn well like. It's nothing to me." 

Clearly this was getting me nowhere, so I tried a different tack. "Just for the record, Amie," I asked, "are you?"

She stopped again, her eyes swiveling around to fasten on mine. "Am I what?"

"A lesbian."

She leaned forward and for a moment I thought she was going to strike me, and then something in her eyes shifted, and she leaned back and her voice was level. "Maybe I am," she said, "and maybe I'm not. And one day you might find out, Jack – but not in the way you think. Now why don't you go back to your room and unpack your manners."

I watched her walk away, her back straight and her ass tight in her jodhpurs, and I thought about the fire in her eyes and the curl of her hair around her face and the way her lips moved when she spoke. 

It was very clear she didn't think much of me. I, on the other hand, thought she was wonderful. 

*

Mum took the car into town later in the morning and I moped around the house for a while, still thinking about Amie. I wondered if she had calmed down at all, and whether I could talk to her and perhaps mend things between us a little, so I stepped out of the house and made my way back to the stables. 

It was a stunning day: a clear spring morning with the air like crystal and the sun glittering from a sky of perfect blue. As I walked across the top paddock towards the stables I saw how the cherry trees on the eastern boundary were laden with blossom, and the pale pastel green of new leaves peeped through the tangle of bare branches in the hedgerow beside the house. The main door of the building was closed and on impulse I decided to go to the upper floor, climbing the narrow external stairs and entering through the little red door with its peeling paint and the horseshoe nailed above the lintel for good luck. The atmosphere enveloped me at once: the sharp smell of horses and manure and of fresh straw and oats, mingled with the musty odour of dust and old leather. The roof above my head was steeply pitched and the massive oak beams were dark with age, as solid as the day they had been laid. The walls were of timber too, rough-hewn planks festooned with the bric-a-brac of any farm: coils of robe and old leather traces and bits of machinery and rusty tools hanging from nails hammered into the wood.


The Watching Game Ch. 02



The Watching Game Ch 02

Author's note. Everyone involved in sexual activity in this story is over the age of 18, of course, and are imaginary. The story contains explicit descriptions of oral and vaginal sex, and references to anal sex between consenting adults. 



In my dream Amie was there, sleeping beside me with her hair spread on the pillow in a curtain of gold and her breath as light as a shadow. I gazed down at her naked body: her lips swollen by our kisses and her cheeks red from the press of my unshaven skin. The sheet was pulled aside and I could see her breasts, standing proud with the nipples stiff with desire, and the creamy texture of her skin gleamed in the candlelight.

She opened her eyes and I could see lumps of dried semen in their corners, and a crust of jism around her lips. Her eyes were like glass shards as she stared at me reproachfully, silently lifting the sheet to reveal the plain of her belly and the juncture of her thighs. Her legs were apart, shrouded in shadow but I could see the tight crease of her vulva - and then, as I watched, the lips suddenly gaped open and a river of sperm poured out, bubbling and splattering in its release: thick and glutinous, drenching her thighs and spreading over the sheet in a steaming pool to reach her knees. She opened her mouth to speak and a fountain burst from her lips, gushing over her chin like clotted cream to splatter over her breasts and gather in the crevices of her body. There was pints of it: a flood of jism that seemed to flow forever until her body was covered in it, clinging to her skin like white paste and streaming over the mattress to spill onto the floor. 

And finally the flow diminished until only the last few dribbles hung from her chin in thick slimy cords and she regarded me with her wet, shiny lips.

"You did that to me, Jack," she said. "Last night, all of it." Her voice hardened. "You fucked your little sister, spraying into me when I told you not to. How do you feel about that?" 

For a moment she stared at me and her glittering golden eyes speared into my soul like a scalpel - and then her image evaporated like a mirage in the heat of a desert, and I spiraled upwards from sleep to find my bed empty and my heart hammering in my chest. 

And as I lay there I recalled the night before: the feel of her body and the clasp of her limbs as she drew me into her liquid depths. I had fucked her through the long hours of the night and into the early glow of dawn, her cunt as tight as a mouse's ass and her sighs and moans loud in my ears. I recalled the glorious details: my sperm spraying over her face, dribbling and drooling into her mouth; her legs over my shoulders and her eyes bright with lust as I ploughed into her, and the tight rhythmic contractions of her pussy as she sucked my seed into her body. I'd cum four or five times during the night, hosing into her body through one orifice or another...hardly the lake of sperm represented in my dream, but it had been enough to fill her. I recalled the silver smears on her thighs tinged pink by virgin blood, and I remembered my cream oozing out of her vulva to trickle over her perineum. The air in my room had been thick with the scent of our fucking, and even now I could taste it on my tongue and smell it on my skin. 

In the cold light of day I lay in bed and my mind was racked with remorse. She was my baby sister - twelve years younger than me, and I had taken her virginity and rutted with her for my own pleasure. I thought of the rest of the family: Donna in exile in London for reasons unknown, and James...God knew where he was, or why he had left. Only Amie and I were left, and I knew what it would do to Mum if she ever found out about us.

And so I held my head in my hands, remembering what we had done and how much I had enjoyed it, and the guilt was as thick as tar in my heart. She was young and beautiful and I loved her, but I resolved never to fuck my little sister again. 

*****

Mum shoveled another slice of ham onto my plate. "You're late this morning," she observed.

"I didn't sleep very well."

A look of concern appeared on her face and she put her hand on my forehead. "You're not coming down with anything are you, Jack?" she asked, "and Amelia's not appeared yet and that's not like her at all. Do you think the two of you have caught something?" 

I could not meet her gaze. "I'm OK, Mum," I mumbled. She really didn't need to know what we might have caught: certainly a heavy dose of remorse for me - and for Amie, perhaps something worse...Anger? Rejection? Perhaps even something more permanent: I recalled her whispered words as we clung to each other...not inside me, Jack - I'm not safe. I wondered if the sperm I had so carelessly splashed inside her had taken root. How would I explain that?

Mum was still looking at me. "How did your evening with Amie go?" she asked casually. 

I glanced at her to see if she suspected something, but her expression was guileless. "It was good," I said. "Nice. We talked for a while at the pub and then walked home together."

"I thought I heard you come in. Did you stay up?"

"A while. I was in bed by midnight." I didn't feel it was useful to tell her who I was in bed with.

She nodded and turned away. "Perhaps you'd take your sister a cup of tea when you've finished eating - it's not like her to -" she broke off as Amie came into the room. "Ah, you're up! How do you feel?"

I dragged my eyes to my sister's face, expecting the worst, but her eyes were bright and clear and she smiled at her mother.

"I'm good, Mum," she said. She leaned forward for a kiss on the cheek, and then moved towards me. Her hair was tied back with a strip of coloured ribbon and she was dressed in a crisp white blouse and a blue skirt, and she was radiant. 

"Good morning, Jack." Her eyes slid over my face, a complicit little glance filled with meaning.

"Er - hi, Amie."

"Did you sleep well?" Her lips brushed against my cheek, and I could smell her perfume and the crisp cinnamon and apple fragrance of her hair. 

"Not really."

She sat down opposite me and laughed. "Really? I did. You must have a guilty conscience, or something."

"Perhaps. Don't we all?"

"Not me, Jack...I slept like the dead. I really enjoyed last night though - we must do it again soon." She glanced at Mum, who was busy at the sink and she leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I mean really soon, Jack. Like today...I have a few ideas to try."

I nodded, relieved that she wasn't angry or hurt. I could tell her later it wasn't a good idea to do it again, that last night had been a few hours of madness because brothers and sisters don't normally fuck each other. It was a fast road to shame and ruin - better that I should try for Amanda Pascoe from the village pub than to let Amie into my bed again. 

She was watching me, seeing the doubt on my face. "Well, don't let your enthusiasm run away with you," she murmured.

"Sorry. I - we need to talk."

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk Jack," she whispered. "I want to -" she glanced behind me to check Mum couldn't hear. "- to fuck." The word slid off her lips like a drop of honey. "Don't you want to roger me again, Jack? Didn't you enjoy last night?" She was regarding me openly, her eyes bright, and when I didn't answer she shook her head in exasperation. "Having second thoughts, are we?" she whispered. "Well, well, that's a surprise...I thought you'd be ready for a second course by now." She regarded me a moment longer and shook her head again. "You're right, we do need to talk. I'll be in the stables at ten - meet me there." It sounded more like a demand than a request, and we ate our breakfast in silence. 

*

It was ten past ten by the time I arrived, and I climbed the wooden stairs to the upper level of the stables with some trepidation. I'd only been back home for a couple of days but I knew Amie well enough to know that she'd settle for nothing less than getting her own way. I could smell her perfume above the normal musty scent of dust and old leather and I knew that she would be waiting for me in the little office tucked away in the corner of the top floor. 

She was examining the photographs tacked to the wall and she turned and looked at me when I came in. "You're late," she said flatly. 

I shrugged. "I was helping Mum. What can I do for you, Amie?"

"I got the impression that you're having second thoughts about me, Jack. Tell me you're not. Tell me that everything's good."

I looked at her without responding and after a moment she nodded in understanding - a little bob of acknowledgement. She turned back to the photograph she'd been studying without saying anything. It was a family shot taken a dozen years ago of Mum and the kids - I was there, tall and skinny at 18, my hair stood on end like Kramer's. Donna was there too, grinning at the camera with the cheekiness of a 12 year old with her arm around Jim; and Amie was at the front. She would have been six then, as thin as a stick with a serious expression on her face, but somehow the camera had caught the strength of her personality to the extent that she dominated the photograph even though she was the smallest. 

Amie touched the image with the tip of one finger. "Do you remember when Dad took this?"

"Not really."

"No, you wouldn't. It would have been just another day to you...but it wasn't to me." She bent down and regarded the image more closely. "Look at it, Jack. Tell me what you can see."

I moved closer, my eyes on the little square of photographic paper. The fragrance of her perfume filled my senses and I was very aware of her proximity. "What do you expect me to see?" I asked. 

"Just look."

I regarded the image for a few moments and shrugged. "It's just a snapshot of the family."

"No. It's more than that. Look at me."

I examined the picture again. Amie was stood with her hands by her side and her face to the front, unsmiling. I shrugged again. "I don't see your point - you're just stood there."

"Next to you," she said softly. "I could have been next to the others, or with Mum - but I wasn't. I was always next to you." She waved her hand at the wall. "Look at any of the photographs, Jack. I loved you even then...I wanted to be with you all the time. Don't you remember?"

I nodded slowly, thinking back...little Amie, following me around like a shadow, and she was right about the pictures - in every one, she was next to me: smiling into my face, holding my hands or just pressing close. She had been so quiet that most of the time I didn't know she was there. I nodded. "I thought you were just curious - you know...following me because I was the only one who did stuff around the farm."

"You're wrong then. I followed you because wanted to be near you." She turned suddenly, her face close to mine. "Two years after that picture was taken you went away, and I thought I'd die. Can you imagine that? Eight years old and really not understanding why you'd gone or why you didn't take me." She shook her head. "I didn't even know how long you'd be gone, so for ages I waited every day at the gate, hoping you'd come back - but it took years." Her eyes were on my face - those amazing golden eyes, drawing me into her centre. "Ten years, Jack. That's a lifetime when you're only little."

"If you're trying to make me feel guilty it's not working. I had to go -"

"You're missing the point. I'm not putting you on a guilt trip...I want you to understand what happened last night was more than just a one night stand -"

I laughed. "Really? Are you saying that you've planned to be in my bed ever since you were little?"

"Christ - do you think I was some sort of Lolita?" She shook her head. "I was eight years old, Jack! It was nothing to do with getting you into bed - I was just a kid, but I had a crush on you, big time." She stared at me, pausing to read my expression before pressing on. "Actually it was more than a crush - I waited every day, hoping you'd come back, hoping you'd stay with me. That's a pretty heavy commitment for a kid."

"It was ten years ago, Amie...more than half your life." I reached forward and touched her gently, trying to lessen the impact of what I was going to say. "Things change - people change. You would have got on with your life just as I did."

She didn't reply but instead turned back to the photograph, her hair shining in the diffused, dusty light as she moved. I could see the strip of golden skin between her hair and the collar of her blouse, the same warm flesh that I had pressed my lips to as I fucked her in the long, silent hours of the night. For a few moments there was silence and then she spoke again, almost as if I'd said nothing. 

"You're right, Jack - after a while I stopped going down to the gate. Jim and Donna were still here and life did go on - but I never forgot." She reached forward and placed her hand on the photograph, her fingers slim and graceful. "I had pictures like this, and Mum used to tell us how you were getting on - how rich and successful you were. Sometimes - not very often - we'd get a letter from you, or perhaps there would be something in a magazine and we'd all read it, and then the others would go and do something else but I'd think about you."

I could sense the emotion she was feeling from the way she was holding herself - the set of her shoulders and the rigidity of her body. I reached forward to touch her, but stopped just in time - I knew I'd be lost if I did that. For the first time since I'd come home I realised the depth of her vulnerability and how lonely she was. The hard shell that she had developed was nothing more than an act. 

"So why are you telling me this?"

She turned back to look at me, her voice passionate. "When you came back I wasn't sure if I still felt the same way, but it didn't me take long to realise that I did. I wanted you then and I want you now, and there's nothing wrong with that. Why don't you want me?"

"I do, Amie. Last night was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"So why aren't you interested?" she asked miserably. She was staring at me with her eyes like pools in her face and I could feel myself being drawn into their golden depths like a swimmer struggling in a rip. 

"I am interested, Amie. I'd love to spend the rest of my life doing what we did last night, but it's wrong. We're brother and sister, and we can't -"

"Why not?" She seized my arm to emphasise her words. "Why the hell not, Jack? Who's going to complain?"

"Mum, for one. Can you imagine what it would do to her if she found out what we were doing? She's already lost Donna and Jim. You and I are all she has left."

Amie stared at me, her hand still on my sleeve. I could feel the warmth of her fingers though the material, sizzling hot against my skin. "Mum?" she said. The emphasis she put on the word was almost dismissive. "Oh, you don't have to worry about her, Jack. She's not part of this at all." 

"How can you say that? She's our mother - she'd be devastated."

Amie released my arm and stood back. "Sit down." She gestured to the little cot in the corner of the room. "You need to know something."

"I'd rather stand."

"Don't be silly - I'm not going to rape you." She smiled slightly at the thought and then picked up the wooden chair and swung it around, sitting backwards on it in a fluid motion. "Sit."

She'd hinted at some dark secret last night but wouldn't elaborate, but it seemed I was about to hear what it was, and so I sat gingerly on the thin mattress, waiting for her to tell me. She was straddling the chair in front of me and her skirt was bunched to reveal her legs - long and smooth and golden. I remembered how they had gripped me during the night, clasped over my back as I buried myself in her soft centre, and I struggled to take my eyes off them. 

"You remember I told you how Donna liked a little nooky?"

"Yes."

"Well, it was more than that, Jack. She was a raging nympho - she'd fuck anything wearing trousers, anywhere and any time - but her favourite was to bring guys back to the house every night and do them in the lounge."

"You told me. You liked to watch."

Amie nodded. "I'd hide in the little alcove just off the main room and watch as she did the deed. Donna was -" she pondered the word for a moment "- energetic."

"How old was she?"

"Twenty one or two, I guess. She was also pretty talented...but then she had a lot of experience." Amie smiled, remembering. "She always insisted that all their gear came off so they were stark naked...she liked to see herself being serviced."

"That would have been good for you, too."

"Oh yes. I'd crouch in my little hideaway and watch as she sucked and fucked every night - sometimes the same guy, sometimes a new one. I never knew that pricks came in such a variety of shapes and sizes." Amie's eyes were distant and I could see her remembering, her mind spinning back to those times. I imagined her crouching behind the curtain, her eyes bright and her fingers buried in her pussy. My eyes flicked down to her thighs, spread open by the back of the chair and her skirt bunched at her crotch - that same pussy now only a couple of feet in front of me, encased in her little silk knickers and oozing moisture from what we had done last night. My cock hardened rapidly at the thought. 

"She'd teach them too, Jack - showing them what she liked best and how to make it last. She particularly liked positions where she could see herself being penetrated...she loved to watch her...cunt being stretched open." She turned her eyes to my face, watching to see what effect her words were having on me, the pupils black against the soft gold irises. I could see the sexual energy in her expression, the open invitation to share in her memories, to experience what she had seen as the words dripped like warm honey from her lips. 

"I never counted the times I watched," she whispered. "Dozens, probably. Dozens of times, watching my sister fuck - watching their cocks pump into her, watching how she worked them: devoured them. She'd suck them dry and spit them out like orange pips." Amie laughed. "If they were any good, she'd keep them there for a second course, but mostly she'd tell them to leave and after they'd gone she'd lie on the sofa and play with herself. She kept a vibrator hidden behind the books in the cabinet, and she'd lie there and fuck herself with it: plunging it in and sucking the juices off it." Her tongue flicked over her lips leaving them moist and she dropped a hand from the back of the chair onto her lap, the fingers pressing against herself at the memory of what she had seen. 

"One night I was watching...the guy had gone and she was pleasuring herself, her eyes closed and the vibrator buried in her snatch, her fingers touching it where it entered her body." Amie laughed softly. "Donna was into juices, y'know? She'd catch them on her fingers and scoop them into her mouth. She loved the taste." Her voice trailed off and there was silence in the little room for a few moments as she remembered. Her fingers were moving at her crutch, pressing and releasing, moving over the bunched fabric of her skirt and she closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the sensation. My cock was rock hard, twitching as my little sister played with herself, imaging Donna as she fucked and sucked on the sofa. 

" Well, there she was," Amie continued. "The base of the dildo poking out of her body and the guy's sperm leaking around it. She was scooping it up in her fingers and licking them like a popsicle." Amie's hand vanished under her skirt, her wrist moving as she touched herself and her voice grew husky. "And then I saw a movement behind her, Jack...someone coming out of the shadows. It was Jim - he was in his jocks and a singlet, and his cock was sticking out against the material like a baseball bat and his eyes were on Donna." She let out a breath like a soft sigh. "God knows how long he'd been there, watching her - I was so engrossed that I hadn't seen him."




The Watching Game Ch. 02



I kept silent, watching Amie as she remembered that night...clearly it had been a turning point but to what extent wasn't yet clear. She'd rucked the hem of her dress up around her waist and I could see her hand rummaging in her little powder blue pants, the knuckles pressing against the thin material as her fingers danced on her pussy. She'd closed her eyes and I regarded her: her face framed by her hair and her mouth slightly open and her lips soft and wet. She was wearing a little pendant on a thin gold chain and it dangled just above the first button of her blouse, resting lightly against the smooth golden skin just at the point where her breasts began to swell. She was so beautiful, and I knew she was mine for the taking if I wanted. I could feel my resolve wavering - my determination not to fuck her at odds with a sudden wave of lust - an almost irrepressible need to press my lips to the soft, warm flesh of her neck and to immerse myself in her. It would be so easy...but I forced myself to sit still, to ignore the soft wet sound of her fingers in her cunt and the scent of her arousal. 

She was still silent and I prompted her gently. "So what happened, Amie?"

"What? Oh - yes. Well, he just stood there for a while, looking down at her. Donna had her eyes shut so she didn't realise he was there...at least, not at first. He was holding his cock, his fingers stroking the bell-end through his jocks, and his eyes were riveted on her body. I could hardly breathe, watching them - knowing that at any minute she'd open her eyes and see her brother...wondering what she'd do." Amie opened her eyes and looked at me. "I thought she'd be pissed off or embarrassed, Jack. I stood in that little alcove waiting for the explosion."

"So what did she do?"

Amie laughed. "She opened her eyes and saw him there and did absolutely nothing, Jack. She just kept going - her eyes on his face and her fingers scooping the goo from her pussy. I could hear the hum of the dildo inside her and the tick of the clock in the hallway, beating like a little drum as the seconds passed, and then she swiveled her hips around so she was sitting up and she reached up and touched him, running her fingers over the bulge in his pants. Jesus! I thought I'd cum there and then, watching my sister play with her brother's cock - and it just got better and better."

I imagined how Amie must have felt, watching from her secret hideway. Even at that age she must have known it was taboo. I could understand how Jim must have felt too - watching his sister offering herself ...I'd done the same with Amie last night. I wondered if he had felt guilty the next morning - or was he more pragmatic than me? I wondered if he had actually fucked her, or whether it had just been a mutual watching thing. 

"Did he fuck her, Amie?"

She regarded me for a moment with bright eyes, ignoring my question. "She reached up and drew out his cock, Jack, and she leaned forward and took it in her mouth. Just the tip, to begin with. Her fingers were around the shaft and she worked her mouth over the glans, back and forth. I could see how tightly her lips were clamped over it...it must have been like fucking a virgin. For a few minutes he simply watched her, and then with a little cry he grabbed her head and shoved his cock right into her face...buried himself into her throat. He was fucking her mouth with long, fast strokes, holding her so she couldn't escape. I could see her struggling to take it, tilting her head back...it must have been half way down her throat. There was spit and froth running down her lips, dripping off her chin. Jim didn't care...he was grunting with each stroke, fucking her face...and then he came." 

Amie paused for a moment, thinking back, remembering how it had happened. Her eyes flicked to my face and she continued. "He pushed it in as far as it would go and shouted he was cumming. Donna's cheeks sort of bulged out and I could see her throat bobbing as she tried to swallow." She giggled. "I thought she was going to choke - she pushed him back and was coughing up spit and lumps of cum...it was running over her chin and dribbling on her tits, shining in the light. I could see that she was upset, but he didn't care - he just laughed, and then he grabbed her legs and hoisted them up and plunged his cock into her."

So he had fucked her...on the sofa in the lounge, not far from where I'd spent the night with Amie. My mind reeled from the revelation...it wasn't just me and Amie, then - it ran in the family. Jim fucks Donna, Jack fucks Amie. So where did Mum fit into all of this? Amie had hinted that mother wasn't an issue for us, so she must have been involved too. With a sudden feeling of dread I understood that the story was far from over and by the end of this morning I'd have a completely different perspective about everyone I loved. 

And what about me and Amie? I could see now why she wasn't concerned about the relationship we had...she figured we were doing nothing more than the others had done. How did I feel about that? I could see her regarding me, her eyes shining and her lips open. She was looking at me expectantly and I realised that she must have said something I'd missed. 

"Did you hear me Jack?" she asked.

"Sorry, no. What did you say?"

"I wanted to know if you want me to continue...are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Tell me."

"Right." She gathered her thoughts for a moment. "He fucked her for about half an hour, Jack...right in front of me. Just about every way he could...and she loved it. She was holding him, pulling him in - begging him to do her more - harder, deeper. She was moving with him, writhing, drawing him in. There was none of the posing or the positioning that she did with the others...she was fucking because she loved it, taking him in deep. Every now and again she'd pull away and take him in her mouth, sucking the juices off, and then she'd put it in again and pump away." Amie's fingers were working at her own pussy again, sliding over the lips with soft sucking noises. I could smell her arousal, thick and tart in the small room. My cock was huge, pressing hard against my pants and I reached down and touched it. Amie noticed the movement and smiled. 

"It gets to you, doesn't it?" she said. "And you haven't seen Donna for a while, have you? She looked pretty much like that -" she indicated the photograph with a nod of her head "- last time you saw her - but not now. She's beautiful."

"She was just a kid when I left."

"As was I, Jack. How times change - both fucked by our brothers. She wasn't like that when I watched her."

"Tell me what Jim did."

Amie closed her eyes, remembering, and she leaned over the chair towards me. "Everything, Jack. I think even Donna was impressed, and she'd fucked half the village by then - God knows where he'd learned, but he certainly gave it to her that night."

"Tell me."

"Wait." She stood up quickly and moved towards me, her eyes on my face. I knew what she wanted and I knew I should resist, but I simply couldn't. I just lay there and looked at her as she deftly undid my belt and opened my jeans. Her fingers dug though the fly of my jocks and lifted me out, as stiff as a stick, and she giggled softly as she hefted it in her little white hands. 

"My, my, Jack," she whispered. "What have we here? She bent her head toward it. "Is this for me, or for Donna?" she asked. Her fingers gripped me and she squeezed the shaft with rhythmic contractions, watching as a bead of clear lubricant was squeezed out of its little eye. 

What could I do? I realised that the whole notion of not touching Amie again had been stupid. How could I not, with her mysterious golden eyes and that luscious body ready to take me inside her again? She was gazing at me with the same expression that she had had when I fucked her the first time, and I felt my heart twist at her beauty. 

She climbed on the cot and maneuvered herself above me, her dress rucked up around her waist and her little blue panties pressed against my thigh. Her hair swung forward in a golden curtain as she bent forward to peer down, one hand holding me and the other pulling aside her pants, rubbing me against the tight, wet lips of her pussy before she sank down. I watched the play of expressions on her face as my glans eased past her labia and slid into the warmth of her body. She held her position for a moment to prolong the intensity of that initial penetration before resuming her descent, watching with half closed eyes as my shaft slid into the smooth hairless cleft until it was completely swallowed. I could feel the heat of her body and the velvet grip of her cunt, squeezing me, and I saw the look of utter contentment on her face as she luxuriated in the sensation of fullness. 

She looked at me and smiled. "You seem to have regained your interest, Jack."

I groaned at the sensation: the incredible heat and tightness of her body seized my senses. She'd taken me in deeply too: the head of my cock was buried, up towards her belly. "How could I not, Amie?" I whispered. 

She worked me for a minute or two, easing up and down, her hands on my chest and her eyes on my face. The initial dryness was wearing off now as her juices began to flow and she settled into a steady rhythm, rising and falling, gripping me with her vulva with each downward stroke. 

"Jim fucked Donna like this," she announced. "They'd taken their clothes off by then, and she bounced on him with her tits banging on her chest and his hands on her ass -" 

She laughed. "I could see it all - his cock sliding into her and the other guy's juices seeping out around his balls and all over her twat." She grunted as she bottomed out on me. "He had his fingers on her ass - pressing into her. Do that to me, Jack -" she leaned forwards to give me better access. "Put your finger up my ass."

I gripped the warm globes of her buttocks, sliding my fingers under the gusset of her pants. There was a lot of moisture there already and her asshole was slick under my touch. I pressed a finger against her, feeling the sucking resistance before it sank into her up to the knuckle. 

Amie grunted again. "Ah, ah, that's good! Have you ever fucked someone in the ass, Jack?"

I nodded, my eyes on her face.

"What was it like?"

"Tight."

"We'll do it sometime," she said. "I think I'd like that."

"Tell me about Donna - and Mum."

She nodded. "Donna came twice while Jim was fucking her," she said, "crying and moaning, shouting out his name. I thought the crockery on the dresser was going to shatter, she was that loud. Usually she was quiet but she let rip with Jim...I was worried Mum would hear and come down, but they didn't seem to care. After her second cum he swiveled her round and fucked her doggie right in front of me. She was kneeling down with her head on the carpet and her ass in the air and he was between her thighs, sliding into her with long, long strokes. I could hear his balls slapping against her ass and see the shaft shining as he slid in and out...Christ, it was hot! I'd got one hand jammed in my pussy and the other in my mouth to stop myself moaning out loud - not that they would have heard, the amount of noise they were making." Amie laughed softly and her thought process switched suddenly. "We fucked doggie last night, Jack, didn't we?" she asked. "Did you like it? Guys seem to like it that way."

"It's the best position."

"Really?" Amie peered down at me. "Why is that?"

I shrugged. "I guess because you can see yourself going in...the lips clasping you. And there's something about a chick on her knees."

She laughed. "I liked all the positions we tried, Jack. How about this one?" She began to swivel her hips as she moved on me, her cunt making sucking noises as the smooth seal of our fucking was broken. 

"That's...pretty good."

Amie made a little moue of displeasure. "Only pretty good? How about this, then?" she leaned forward with her face against mine and she pumped herself on my cock. She'd clamped her vaginal muscles as tight as she could and I felt like I was fucking a velvet mangle. 

"Christ, Amie...you have no idea how good that feels...fuck, that's good!"

"Jesus, you guys are easy to please." She laughed and pushed herself upright again, her hands on my chest as she rode me. Her skirt was around her waist and I could see the root of my cock embedded in her, her juices leaking out to stain the front of my jeans. 

"So what happened, Amie?" I asked. "About Jim and Donna I mean." 

"He spurted into her," she said simply. "Right in front of my eyes...the grandstand seat. She'd just cum for the second time and his balls were drenched in her juice as he fucked her. I could see the froth around his shaft, and I could hear him...telling her how tight she was, and how he loved diddling his sister. Her tits were swinging with every stroke and he grabbed them, cradling their weight and rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. And then he told her he was cumming."

"Did he cum into her?" I imagined he would...with his cock embedded in her, deep into the hot wetness of her cunt. It would have been hard to pull out. 

"He sure did...for the last few strokes he started grunting, almost like he was in pain, and then he gave a final lunge and she shrieked. I could see his balls rammed against her, pulsing as he squirted into her. She was yelling out, telling him she could feel it...how hot it was and how much, and he was grunting with each spurt and holding her tits, squeezing them as he emptied into her. It was like they were welded together, Jack, with his dong speared up inside her and his juice splashing into her pussy." She laughed. "It must have been a lot because when he pulled out it dribbled out like a little river, puddling on the carpet. Donna bent down and licked it up, straight from the carpet, her tongue lapping like a cat with a bowl of cream."

In my mind I could see it - my brother and sister, rutting like dogs on the carpet. I could hear the animal grunts as he spurted, long ribbons of steaming sperm splattering into her, drenching her cervix and pooling like hot porridge deep inside her body. Amie must have been close enough to touch them - to smell the rank aroma of their fucking and the sharp smell of his sperm as it dribbled and splattered onto the carpet at her feet. And here I was embedded in her as she told me the story, my cock buried in her body just as Jim had been in Donna. The thought spurred me on, spinning me into a vortex of lust...Jim and Donna, fucking...just like we were. Sisters' cunts filled with their brothers' seed. In books this would only happen in a backwater hick town like Deliverance where the locals kept it in the family - but here we were in a little English village - a normal place with normal people...nothing ever happened here - or so I had thought. I remembered Amie telling me about another girl who had been run out of town because she was fucking her brother. Perhaps it was more common than I had thought.

My cock swelled as the images seized me and I reached up and grabbed her shoulders, straining upwards to get even deeper. Her tits jiggled under her blouse and her hips bounced on me, sucking me in, slurping and squishing as we fucked. Her eyes were on mine, deep pools of amber flecked with iridescent strands of gold and black and her mouth was open, lips slack and wet, and her voice was broken and gusty with pleasure. "Christ, Jack...that's - ugh! - good fucking. Can you cum, Jack? Can you...ugh...fill me up like Jim did?"

Her words rang in my ears as I shafted her...had she fucked Jim as well? Or was she drawing a parallel between us and Donna? I imagined Jim ploughing into Amie...her beautiful slim body under his, legs locked over his back and those luminous golden eyes flaring as she felt his seed spurting, spurting. My eyes fell on the photographs behind her: Amie on the fence in her bobby socks, waving goodbye as I drove away; Amie in the barn, watching me as I worked on the farm tractor, and Amie as a virginal teenager, with long coltish legs and budding breasts thrusting against her school blouse. It only seemed like yesterday - and now she was riding me with her tits banging on her chest and her mouth open... using her warm slippery cunt to fuck me, to draw my incestuous seed into her body. Her hands were clenched in fists of pleasure and her face was distorted with lust as she felt my shaft stretching her open. 

The images of yesterday and today tumbled through my brain in a kaleidoscope of colour and with a hoarse cry I came. There wasn't the usual build up. It came in a rush - a single, explosive release, scalding hot as it burst though the eye of my cock to hose into her in an apparently endless stream. From far away I could hear her screaming as she came too, her cunt kneading me like a masseur's hands...squeezing, sucking the jism out of my body with tight rhythmic undulations. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut and she was shaking her head, her hair swirling around her face in a golden cloud. My back was arched, my cock jammed into her as far as I could, the head buried deep inside as I sprayed. Everything around as had stopped...it was just me and her, joined together as I emptied into her body in long seconds of exquisite ecstasy. Amie, my little Amie. 

And then the spiral down, the return of awareness: of my sister smiling down at me, her hair plastered to her head and her body perched on me, still gripping my twitching cock. "Christ, Jack," she whispered. "Could it get any better than that?"

I stared up at her with my heart thudding in my chest, and I knew it could not. 

***

We walked back to the house together, holding hands like lovers. 

"So how long did the Donna and Jim thing go on for?" I asked her. 

"About a year."

"That long!"

She nodded. "Donna pretty much gave up the village boys - she'd got someone a lot closer to take care of her needs...and Jim was up to it, too." She laughed. "If you were wondering why the cot bed we just used is bent in the middle, you can blame them." She looked up towards the house. "They were at it every day - sometimes more...in the stables, in the house - even outside, sometimes -"

"So how did they keep it a secret?"

She glanced at me. "I wondered when you'd ask that question...it gets to the heart of the whole thing, doesn't it - why Donna and Jim left, and what Mum did." She looked away, and I could see her thinking, wondering whether she should tell me. We walked for a little while in silence and then she suddenly stopped and turned toward me again.

"Mum knew, Jack. Not at first, but after a while."

"So what did she do?"

She hesitated for a moment. "Would you mind if I didn't tell you?"

I stared at her in surprise. "What!? Why on earth wouldn't you, Amie?! Apart from being a major event in the family it might tell me why you think Mum's not an issue for us."

She smiled at my outrage. "You're right," she said gently, "but it was an act which she bitterly regrets now...it tore the heart out of the family and she lives with its consequences every day." She shook her head. "It's not something I can prattle about idly, Jack, or put my spin on it. She needs to tell you, not me. One day, if she's ready." She squeezed my hand and started walking again. 

"At least tell me why she's not an issue for us."

She strode a few more steps in silence before she answered, her voice low. "Because she told me she misses being able to watch them."

I stopped in my tracks as if I'd walked into a brick wall. "Mum was watching them?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

She shrugged. "About a year, I guess. Until she did what she did."

"Christ! Did they know?"

"I don't think so."

"And she misses it?"




The Watching Game Ch. 02



"Apparently. That's what she told me - at least, that's my interpretation of the conversation."

"Why would she tell you that?"

Amie sighed. "It was months after they'd gone, Jack. She told me because she was racked with guilt at what she had done to them. Because she was lonely and a bit drunk, and she knew that I knew what had been happening, and because I was the only one in the whole world she could tell."

I stood for a few moments, thinking. Jesus! Mum was a voyeur too - and on her own kids. Getting pleasure from watching them fuck each other. If Amie had told me black was white I'd have believed her - but not that. 

"I can't believe it, Amie. Not Mum -"

She gripped my hand. "Why the hell not, Jack! A week ago would you have believed that you'd fuck me?"

"No, but -"

"So stop being judgmental. Donna and Jim crossed a line, and so have you and I. Why shouldn't she? Mum's got needs and urges just like any of us. Why not that one?"

"Did she join in?"

"How the hell would I know!" she answered angrily.

"You used to watch as well. Did you ever see her join in?"

"No."

"Did you watch together?"

"Christ! No - we didn't, Jack. Did you think it was like a squash court or something, with a viewing gallery -"

"No, but I'm trying to figure out if you worked together at this." A thought struck me. "Does she know about us?"

"What are you saying, Jack? That I set this up? That you and I screwed for her enjoyment?" She stared at me for a moment, seeing the doubt and suspicion in my eyes. She released my hand and stood back, her face white with anger. "Well, fuck you!"

"Amie -"

"No! I knew I shouldn't have told you. I should have guessed at your reaction, Jack. Well - get this in your thick head, if you can. No, I didn't set it up. No, Mum didn't watch us and yes, I did it because I love you...or I did, you bigoted prick!" She stared at me for a moment or two and then spun on her heel and stomped up the track towards the house, her back stiff with anger. 

I stood and watched her go, my mind in a turmoil. I felt as if I'd just been run over by a truck...standing in the open road with a clear view of the way ahead one minute and smashed in the gutter the next... with everything I knew about my family scattered like broken garbage around me. I stood for a few minutes trying to get my thoughts in order, but I needed time to think so I turned back and headed to the little office in the stables. 

I sat on the cot in the corner and tried to collect my thoughts. The only illumination in the room came from the little window in the opposite corner - a hard, diffused light distorted by the streaks of dirt and dust on the glass panes so the room was cast in a sort of dappled radiance that accentuated shadows, like an old photograph. A scrap of material was lying on the floor at my feet and I picked it up: Amie's panties. I remembered how she had stripped them off and used them to clean herself up before we left the room, and I pressed them to my face to breathe in the scent of her body juxtaposed with the pungent smell of my semen. Her and me: our most intimate odours mingled together in the fine weave of the material, just as we were now interwoven in life. 

And so I sat in that little room, trying to make sense of what I'd learned and what it meant. Amie and me...so much more than just a quick fuck - and following in the footsteps of our siblings. I imagined Donna lying on this very bed with her legs around her brother and her pussy full of his cock...did it change anything? And what about Mum, hiding in the shadows...touching herself as she watched her children fucking? Dad had been long dead by then, and she was alone. Was voyeurism the extent of her sex life or had she actually joined in? And what did that mean to me - and to my relationship with Amie? What would the price of staying together be - to allow her to watch us? To let her to join in?

The questions piled up up in my brain like autumn leaves against a fence and there were no answers. And so after a while I stood up and clambered down the stairs, heading back towards the house. Just about the only thing I was sure of was that I loved Amie - but I didn't yet know the cost of keeping that love alive, or whether the price would be too high.

*****

Dinner was a dismal affair. Amie was disengaged and Mum was trying too hard to be cheerful. I tried my best to engage both of them, but images of each kept appearing in my mind: Amie in wild orgasm as I fucked her, and Mum crouching in the shadows with bright eyes, watching us. She looked so innocent - was she really into watching her kids? I realised that I knew nothing of her private life...why would I?

Amie excused herself after the meal and I did the washing up with Mum. As soon as we were alone she turned to me. 

"Is everything all right between you and your sister?" she asked. 

I smiled. "A brother and sister tiff, Mum. We'll be OK in the morning."

She nodded absently, her hands busy in the sink. "I'd hate for you not to get on, Jack. It's important to me that you like each other."

"We'll be fine."

She sighed. "You seemed to be doing so well - last night, and down at the stables this morning."

I wondered if she knew just how well we'd got on, but I let it pass. "Why don't you ask Donna to stay for a while, Mum?" I asked gently. "Just for a week or two. I know you don't see eye to eye but isn't it time to bury the hatchet? And Jim?"

"I've no idea where Jim is," she said. "And Donna - well...maybe one day."

"No. Tomorrow. Ring her in the morning. Use me as an excuse to invite her down."

She smiled. "It's not that simple, Jack...she'd refuse, and I don't want to handle another rejection."

"Won't she even visit to see me?"

"I doubt it - her husband's forbidden her to bring the baby, for one thing -"

I stared at her. "Baby? What baby?"

"Didn't you know?" she smiled. "You have a little nephew...he's two years old."

"Jesus, Mum! Wasn't anybody going to tell me?"

"You had your own life, Jack, in another country - and Donna's cut herself off from the family. She doesn't want anything to do with us."

"Why?"

"You'll have to ask her, son."

"I'm asking you."

She smiled sadly. "And I can't answer. You must speak to her, Jack." She pulled the plug out of the sink and stripped off her gloves. "By all means ring her tomorrow and invite her down - but don't be surprised if she doesn't want to talk to you. Now...can I get you a coffee?"

"No thanks, Mum. I think I'll just go up to my room and read."

She smiled. "Right. Don't forget to make up with Amie."

"I will." 

"And in the morning I'd like you to move to the end bedroom in the new wing. It's a much nicer room, and I've been thinking of redecorating yours anyway."

"No problem. Good night Mum."

She leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. "Good night, son." 

*

Amie had gone off to do her chores by the time I was up, so I used the morning to prepare my old bedroom for painting and to move my stuff into the new one. Mum was right - the new room was much nicer. It was down the corridor from Amie and shared a little ensuite bathroom. It also had full length wall-to-wall mirrors on the wardrobes to one side of the room, and a bigger bed.

Amie came in for lunch dressed in her working gear. "I hear we are to be neighbours," she said.

"Pardon?"

"Your new room - next to mine," she explained. I was relieved to see her smile. 

"Oh - yes. Mum wants to decorate the old one."

"She said that when she moved Donna into it three years ago. Still - it will be nice to have you close."

I touched her hand. "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I -"

"Forget it, Jack. I should have found another way to tell you that wasn't so confronting." She smiled and gripped my fingers. Would you like to go out for dinner tonight?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Sure. There's a nice little bistro in the village. Only if you want, though."

"I'd crawl there over broken glass to be with you."

She smiled. "Then that's a date....and could you help me this arvo?"

"Sure. What are we doing?"

"We're getting a new horse next week. I need to empty the tack room and make a new stable."

It was evident that the tack room hadn't been touched in years and had been used as a general storeroom for just about everything: old mowers, broken tools and the general bric-a-brac that collects over time. We spent the afternoon going through the piles of stuff and sorting it - rubbish to the skip behind the barn and the other items to the upstairs level. I resolved not to talk about any of the family issues, so we chatted about the farm and her university studies, and I told her more of what I had done in the States. The afternoon passed in a flash and by early evening it was done. 

She stood back and scrutinized the work with a keen eye. "This is great, Jack. I never thought we'd get it done today."

"Just the hinges on the gate to fix. I'll do that tomorrow."

"Thank you." There was a smear of dirt down one cheek and a few strands of hair had escaped from her pony-tail, giving her a slightly disheveled look. She looked young and incredibly beautiful.

"Do I get a reward?" I rolled my eyes upwards, towards the office with its little bed.

She shook her head. "Later. I smell like a horse, and I've got dust in places where it shouldn't be."

"I'm really good at dusting."

She laughed. "I bet. I can just see you in a pinafore with a feather duster...or did you have some other implement in mind?"

"How much dust are we talking about?"

"Lots," she said. "In every orifice."

"Not a problem," I said. 

*

The bistro was next to the village store, really not much more than a single room of a terraced house but the proprietor had done it out well and it was BYO, which kept the cost down. We sat in the table in the front window, and Amie told me about some of the other people in the room. 

"That's Mrs Treleven, the post mistress," she said. "In the blue dress, near the door? She's the village gossip - she knows everything about everyone, and what she doesn't know she'll find out." She smiled and waved at the florid faced woman who regarded her with distaste. "When she finds out you're my brother she'll tell everyone, so we'd better behave. No holding hands or gazing into each other's eyes."

"So I suppose a fuck on the table is out?"

Amie smiled "Probably a little bit of a giveaway."

"French kissing?"

"Nope."

I reached under the table and touched her thigh. "How about a little grope, then?"

"That's just fine, Jack, until I have an orgasm about the time main course arrives. That might be a giveaway too."

"I'm getting the impression you don't like the village much."

She shrugged. "It's a small community, Jack, and I've chosen not to become too involved. That makes me a stuck-up outsider in their view." She smiled. "If there's any gossip to be had they'll put a negative spin on it, that's for sure." 

"So how do you know them all?" I asked. 

Amie shrugged. "I occasionally go into the shops and the pub. They're always here. Most would never have left the village in their whole lives." She turned her eyes on me and changed the subject. "Did you speak to Mum last night?"

"I did. She was very concerned that you and I should get on."

"I bet. That's part of the reason she's given you the room next to me."

"And the other part?"

"She wants to paint your old room." She smiled. "What else could it be?"

"She can see both our rooms from hers. Maybe she's keeping an eye on our sleeping habits."

"Don't get paranoid, Jack. That's what curtains are for."

I opened my mouth to answer, but thought better of it. I'd decided that afternoon that the only way to deal with the situation was to roll with it, and see what happened. There wasn't anything more to say at this point, and I didn't want to upset Amie again.

"Mum also told me that Donna had a baby."

She picked up her wine and twirled the glass, watching the amber liquid sparkle in the candlelight. "So I hear."

"Whose is it?"

She smiled. "Her husband's, of course."

"But the dates suggest otherwise. It could be Jim's."

Amie set the glass on the table. "Yes it could, Jack. It could also belong to any one of a dozen guys in the village - but there's no point in speculating." Her tone made it clear that she didn't want to talk about it, but I could see she knew more than she was letting on. 

There were so many secrets in this family...like layers of paint on an old table, each hiding the crude brushstrokes of the one below. I wondered if one day somebody would research who had been up whom in the Harrison family: how Jim and Donna had become lovers, and Jack and Amie too; and how their mother loved to watch their children as they fornicated. We'd be judged harshly, no doubt - but they wouldn't ever have known Amie, with her mysterious golden eyes and smoldering sensuality. She was gazing at me and I could almost feel the sexual energy radiating from her, oozing from her skin like an aphrodisiac, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I realised that I could no more resist her than I could stop breathing, and no price was too high to take what she offered. 

The meal was hardly cordon bleu, but it was good and wholesome and afterwards we walked back along the same bridle path that had led me to Amie's bed. Was it only four days ago? There was no certainty then: I had wondered what might be in store for me on that night, but tonight was very different. Her arm was tucked under mine and even though we had already fucked twice there was that breathless excitement about us - knowing we were about to do it again...that nothing short of Armageddon would stop us from joining our bodies together. And this time it was pre-meditated - a deliberate act to seal our union and join together as lovers rather than simply to rut. After tonight we would never be able to pretend that we'd just got carried away in the heat of the moment. 

Mum had turned down the sheets on my bed and left a bedside light on, and for a few moments we held each other, both aware of the consequences of what we were about to do. Her head was cradled into my shoulder and her face was pressed against my jacket. I could smell the crisp freshness of her hair and feel the warmth of her body through my clothes. My cock was already hard - just the knowledge of what was about to happen was enough. She felt it pressing against her belly and looked up at me, her eyes shining in the dim light. 

"Is that for me?" she asked softly.

"You bet."

"Then I'll take it," she said simply. She broke from my embrace and dropped to her knees, her hands deftly unzipping me and drawing me out. My cock was as hard as it had ever been, the turgid flesh pulsing in her hand and the helmet fully exposed, a gleam of moisture at its eye. She bent her head to it, gently rubbing her lips over the tight purple flesh, her fingers small against the swollen shaft. She had positioned me carefully so she could see herself in the mirror: watching the image of the young girl crouching before her older brother, subjugating herself to his desires - his cock in her hand and her mouth touching it, drawing out a silver strand to string between them. Her lips were dry and she rubbed the bulbous head over the soft pink flesh, smearing his juices so they gleamed in the soft light, and she slipped his cockhead between them and took him in her mouth. 

I tried to be still but the sensation was just too good so I held her head and began to thrust into her, watching her mouth stretch around me, watching the gleam of her spit on the shaft as I slid in and out. I remembered her story of Jim fucking Donna's face and how he jammed it deep in her throat and came, spurting gouts of his cum so deeply in her neck that she almost choked. Perhaps I would try that one day, but for now I wanted her lips and tongue on the head of my cock: her lips to nuzzle and tease it, gripping one moment and soft and loose the next - and her tongue to flicker over the purple flesh to tease the rim. My cock was pulsing, each twitch delivering a trickle of my juice to her mouth, eel-slippery as it oozed down her throat. God, it was good! She was working me, her eyes watching her reflection as she bobbed onto my shaft, drawing it out one moment to see the strands of pre-cum stringing from her shiny lips and then plunging it into her mouth the next, rubbing the soft insides of her cheeks against the frenulum and curling her tongue over the great swollen head. 

I could have stood there for hours, letting her service my cock until it burst into her mouth like a fire hose - but I wanted to do so much else, and so after I while I drew her to her feet. Her lips were soft and wet and I kissed them, tasting myself on the shiny flesh, wincing as her sharp little teeth nibbled me. She helped pull off her clothes as we kissed: the blouse first and then the little lacy bra. Her breasts sprang free - firm and round, the nipples as hard as pebbles. She groaned as I pinched them, teasing them in my fingers to draw them out further, encompassing the firm roundness of each breast to acknowledge its shape and wondrous plasticity. Her fingers were at her skirt and she pulled it away, stepping out of it. In the mirror I could see she was only wearing her little white panties now - the delicate filigree lace hugging the delicious curves of her buttocks and clinging to her mons. The lips of her cunt were pressed against the fabric, each clearly defined, and I felt my cock twitch at the sight. She stepped back and slipped her fingers under the elastic, sliding them over the peachy flesh of her thighs and stepping out of them to stand before me naked. With trembling fingers I stripped off my clothes, tossing them aside until I was naked too; and for a few moments we stood and regarded each other. 

I had eaten Amie on our first night but it had been rushed - but now there was time to fully enjoy myself as I knelt at the altar of my sister's cunt. The lips of her pussy were shiny and pink, drawn apart with her excitement and with a gleam of pearly juice between them. I touched her lightly with the tip of my tongue, lapping at the portal to her body, curling the tip between the fragrant lips to scoop her discharge into my mouth. The flesh of her thighs touched my cheeks like velvet and her hands were in my hair to guide me, and I could hear her moaning as my tongue delved into her secret passage. She pressed hard against me, releasing a flow of fluid that bubbled over my lips and chin like the juice of a luscious fruit, sweet and fragrant, smearing over the smooth golden flesh of her thighs and staining the sheets below her crutch. 

I could smell her too: the essence of a young, healthy woman in full arousal, the aroma filling my mind and seizing my senses with the singular yearning to bury myself in her as deeply as I could, to be as one. Time ceased to have any meaning - there was only me and Amie, my tongue lapping at her cunt, shimmering over the trembling lips of her labia, delving into her steaming vulva and then spearing deeper to wriggle inside her as far as I could. 

I could have eaten her all night, I think: taken the main course she was offering and swallowed her for dessert as well, but she could take no more. I became aware of her pulling at my head, lifting me and her voice was soft and insistent. "Jesus, Jack. Stop...stop. No more." Her cheeks were flushed and her lips pouting, swollen from where she had bitten them in her passion, and she regarded me with heavy-lidded eyes. "Fuck me now," she said. "Fuck me all night."

The initial penetration was exquisite: the nudge of her labia against my glans... the first touch of our swollen flesh. I eased forward lightly and the head of my cock entered her body, easing aside the lips to slide into her tight wet flesh. She rolled languorously beneath me, her hips arching to suck my shaft deeper, to open the channel for the maximum depth. Her face was against mine and I heard her growling deep in her throat as she felt herself stretched open. 




The Watching Game Ch. 03



 Author's Note: Sometimes I go back and read my own stories and it struck me that the "Watching Game" series introduced characters that were somewhat more complex than my usual ones. I remembered how much fun I had writing about them and so I resolved to write another Chapter.

It would help if you read the previous two stories, but it's not essential - I'm sure you'll pick up the gist as there are only three characters: Jack and his two sisters, Donna and Amie. 

Unlike the previous two stories, this one is told from the perspective of Amie, the younger girl, and is mostly preoccupied with back door sex so if that turns you off then please move on! All characters are over the age of 18.

*****

The dialing tone purred softly in my ear as I waited for someone to answer, praying it would be my sister. I didn't want to speak to anyone else.

'Hello?' The timbre of her voice was soft - a little girl's voice, even though she was nine years older than me. 

'I fucked him, Donna. I fucked Jack.'

A pause. A few heartbeats only, and then I heard a little sigh as if somehow she had always known it would happen and was relieved the wait was over. 

'When?' Donna's voice was soft, as if there was someone else in the house that she didn't want to hear. 

'Last Friday. We went to the pub and he brought me back and we did it.'

'Was he your first?'

'Yep.'

'Was he good?'

I smiled at the question. My extended virginity had been the source of some amusement to her. At my age she'd been fucking for years and had probably forgotten that virgins didn't have much to compare anything with. But I knew what she really meant: tell me about it. 

'He was big.'

Donna laughed softly. 'They all feel big the first time. Did you like it?'

'I loved it.'

For a moment there was silence, and I imagined her standing there with her eyes half shut in that particular way she had. Was she remembering her first time or was she picturing her baby sister, rutting in the night with her brother? It had been years since she'd seen him: could she picture what he was like? 

'Tell me,' she whispered. 'Tell me everything.'

'He's gorgeous, Donna. He's - well, the years have changed him. His body is -' I struggled for the words. 'A man's. You know - hard...not like it was when he left home. And his skin is darker than mine, and those eyes -' I clutched the phone and struggled for the words to try and justify what I'd done. How could I explain how long I'd wanted Jack? That I'd loved him ever since she was little? Donna wouldn't understand that: she was a man-eater and the word love didn't feature in her vocabulary. No, leave emotion out of it. Just tell her the facts. 

'He came on my face first,' I continued. 'I wanted him to...I wanted to see it in the mirror - to watch as he spurted...to feel it and taste it -'

'You love watching, don't you Amie?' Donna cut in.

For a moment I wondered if she knew that I used to watch her too, screwing in the bushes and the car and in our lounge room. Night after night with her knickers pulled aside and her legs waving in the air, grunting as one cock after another plunged into her. The village bike, fucking the farm boys and working hands, sending them home to their wives and girlfriends with empty balls. Donna must have known I was there, and probably enjoyed it all the more. 

'God, yes!' I replied. 'I've watched a lot, whenever I could. I've seen it done so many times, Donna. But I'd never done it myself. It had to be the right one - not the locals.' 

'So tell me,' my sister demanded. 

'There was so much, that first time. I could see him in the mirror, standing over me, his cock twitching and jerking as it unloaded. Just like the others I'd seen...but this time it was different. This one was for me. This time I was the little tart in the mirror with my face turned upwards and my mouth wide open... it was me feeling the hot splashes on my cheeks and tasting it as it coated my tongue and oozed down my throat. And I could smell it, Donna - the raw odour of hot cum. I never knew it was -'

'And when he took you?' she interrupted, 'did it hurt?'

'A little. At first.' I remembered as he plunged into me: the sudden pain of my hymen tearing like the slice of a surgeon's knife, and then the dull ache inside as his knob pressed up towards my belly, stretching the reluctant flesh. He'd held it buried inside my body until the pain subsided, and then the first slow withdrawal, the shaft smeared with virgin blood. 'But I didn't care, Donna,' I continued. 'I - I wanted to give him everything, you know? I wanted to feel him cumming inside me...to immerse myself. I wanted to be bathed in it. I wanted him to be mine.'

'And did he? Cum into you, I mean.'

'God yes! We fucked all night, like animals...him going into me, over and over and over again, and when he came it was so deep I thought I could taste it. Pints of spunk pumping into me.' I laughed briefly, a throaty little sound. 'Afterwards it leaked out all night, dripping down the crack of my ass. The sheets were as stiff as boards the next morning with jism and cunt juice.'

Donna chuckled at the image. Her little virginal sister lying in a pool of hot cum. 'Well, little Amie,' she said at length. 'You did it. I envy you.' Her tone changed. 'You're on the pill, right?'

'No.'

'Christ! Are you on anything? Were you safe?'

'I - I didn't care, you know? I just wanted him. I couldn't stop -'

There was a long silence and I could hear only the hiss of the static. 'Well,' she said at last. 'That's - interesting. So do you care now?'

'I- I love him. I want his -'

'No! You don't want that. Amie. Trust me, you don't want that. Get yourself on the pill.'

'I can't take the pill, Donna.' 

There was another silence and I could almost feel her thinking, working out what was to be done. 'I'm coming down,' she said suddenly. 

'But -'

'No buts, Amie. I'll be there tomorrow. Try and stay out of his bed before then, but if you can't then make sure he doesn't cum in you again...at least, not in your pussy.' The line clicked abruptly and there was silence. 

For a few moments I sat there with the phone in her hand, thinking. Donna hadn't been home since busting up with Mum years ago and yet she was suddenly prepared to come back to give me advice. What the hell was she going to do - tell him to wear a condom when we fucked? Or perhaps she had something more practical in mind, like lending a helping hand. I smiled at the thought...beautiful Donna, the black sheep of the family, her hands slim and dexterous as she rolled the rubber onto Jack's cock before sitting back to offer words of gentle advice as he took his little sister. The image was so ridiculous that I laughed. Donna was a man-eater, and one of her conquests had been our younger brother, Jim. I remembered the expression on her face as he sprayed his seed into her body. She'd had a baby before she was married and although nothing was said, everyone thought it was Jim's. A son and a nephew, all rolled into one.

But Donna wouldn't care if I was up the duff, so why was she so keen to come here? Normally that question could be answered by one word: men - but there were plenty in London prepared to fuck her senseless, so why come all the way to Devon to find more?  

It didn't take much to figure it out. Donna had screwed Jim more than anyone else because he had the one thing the others didn't - he was her brother.  Coupling with him was so much more exciting because it broke so many taboos. It was the ultimate power trip, the proof that she could take any man she wanted. 

No, I thought, Donna wasn't coming down to help her at all - she was coming down to capture the thrill again, and as Jim had moved on it wasn't hard to figure who her target was. I remembered her words: 'I envy you. '

She was coming down for a piece of Jack, and I knew exactly which piece she had in mind. 

***

That night Jack screwed me again. 

We were in his king sized bed and he took me slowly, unlike the frantic coupling of our first encounters. He asked me to kneel above his face and he ate me, observing my bright little eyes as I watched the whole thing: the way my vulva changed as I became excited, the lips turning a dusky pink as they swelled; the sheen of moisture that bloomed between them, and the way my clitoris appeared at their juncture like a tiny seed grape. I saw how he teased the outer lips, his tongue brushing softly against them and the tip flicking back and forth over the moist flesh; and I watched as he moved to the centre, his tongue curling to reach inside my body. I was flowing freely, the cream oozing like syrup between my pussy lips, and I saw how it dribbled into his mouth and smeared over his cheeks and chin. 

And then he mounted me and I lay beneath him, my legs over his calves. I groaned as he entered...the first silken touch of his knob against my flesh, feather light, feeling its way forward, and then the pressure as my tightness resisted. I felt the head was too big - that my smallness would never accept it, and I heard herself crying out...just as I had the first time he took me. I leaned forward and regarded the tip lodged between my lips, shrouded in pink flesh; my opening gripping him in a vice, resisting as he tried to enter; and I imagined my vulva struggling to stretch over his thick purple knob despite the bubbling of my cream as it was forced from my body with the pressure. 

And then suddenly I gave way and he crowned into me. Christ, he was big! I felt my ring gripping him, quivering as tight as a garrote around the rim of his cock. And then the long shaft sliding, sliding; the pressure of his knob deep inside as if the flesh there was being expanded too. I lifted my legs to change the angle, my hips rotating up to meet his thrust. Ah, ah, take me, Jack. Fuck your little sister! I can't get enough of you. I want you deeper, deeper. I want to be possessed by you, to feel drowned. 

At last I felt the squish of his pubic bone against mine and the press of his scrotum against my anus. He was right inside me... encased in my quivering little cunt. I felt the head pressing against something deep and I groaned with the fullness of him. Like a great meat log inside my body, my pussy twitching, twitching as it tried to adjust, the lips tight around his shaft. Take me, Jack, fuck me now. Let me suck the seed from your brimming balls. Splatter it into my belly. 

The mirror to the right of the bed told the story: my brother, his body dark against the young girl under him and his buttocks clenching as he began to thrust back and forth. Her hair was spread on the pillow in a dark cloud and her face was pressed against his shoulder. She was rocking with him, her hips twisting up to receive each thrust, and her hands gripped his waist. The image of an older man having sex with a younger girl. No, so much more than that - an older brother fucking his little sister, feeling the illicit clasp of her cunt, groaning at her incredible tightness as his shaft rummaged back and forth into her incestuous, writhing body. 

My thoughts were broken by his voice. 'I'm inside you again,' he whispered, and there was a note of wonder in his voice. 'Jesus Amie, I'm inside you.'

'I know, I know.'

'You're so tight. I love your tightness.'

His strokes were easier now as I adjusted to his size... long, slippery strokes, angled downwards through the narrow pelvic girdle, so deep into my body. The house was quiet around us, with only the little gasps and moans and the rhythmic squeaking of the bed to disturb the silence. My brother, fucking in this quiet house with my legs around his back and my hips lifting to receive his thrusts. How could I have ever known it would come to this? What on earth had caused me to take such a risky path?

And in that moment I understood the power that Donna valued so much. It fizzled in my brain like a drug, bringing startling clarity to every sense. I felt my pulse accelerate and the blood flowing though my veins quicker, as if having my brother inside me somehow made me live just that little bit faster. I love it,  I thought to myself. I love the naughtiness of fucking my brother. 

His thrusts were faster now and I knew he was close, but I wanted something else. I held his hips to stop him. 'No, Jack. Not yet. Let me come on top. Let me ride you.'

He pulled free and rolled on his back and I squatted with my pussy hovering over his prick. Jesus, he was big. It lay across his belly like a snake and I took it in my hand and engaged the tip against me. Just the tip, buried between the thick, wet lips. A thin dribble of my juices oozed out to smear over the swollen head, slippery and translucent, easing the way forward as I impaled myself on his shaft.

'Ah, Amie...Amie,' he whispered. 'That's exquisite...ah, Jesus -' 

'I'm screwing you, Jack. It's my turn now.' I lifted myself slowly, seeing him appear again, the skin gleaming silver. 'Do you like your little sister fucking you?'

'Christ!... you have no idea.'

I looked down at his face. His eyes were glazed with pleasure and he was gasping as I raised and lowered myself on his shaft, and I laughed.

'Do you remember how I was trying to find out what made you tick in the pub the other night?' I watched him nod, his eyes on mine. 'Well -' I reached down and held the shaft of his cock. 'I've found it. This is the secret, right, Jack?' I moved my hand from side to side, stirring him like a spoon in a pot of warm honey. 'This is what it's all about, isn't it!'

He groaned again, a sort of contented purring noise, and I stirred him a little more. My cunt made wet slurping noises and I felt a fresh ooze of juice over my fingers. 'It's nothing more than this, is it Jack?' I asked again.

'Let me cum into you. I need to cum -' 

'What, into your little sister?' I teased, 'tut, tut, that's really nasty.'

'I don't care. I need to -' 

'I spoke to Donna today, Jack. I told her about us. Do you know what she said?'

Jack's eyes opened wide and he struggled to sit up. 'Christ, Amie...you shouldn't have done that.'

'Relax.' I pushed him back down and released his shaft so I could engulf the full length again to resume my pumping. 'Donna and I talk. I tell her things and she tells me.' I smiled. 'Did you know she's rooting half of Kensington now?'

'She can root the other half and die happy, for all I care.'

'Ah, but you should care, Jack. When I told her about us she got all excited. I guess she thinks having sex with brothers runs in the family. You know she was doing Jim, don't you?'

'You told me.' 

'She's never forgotten that...I think it was something special to her, and now she wants a piece of you. Another notch in her bedstead.' I laughed. 'I'm surprised her bed's still standing - the legs must be like raddled toothpicks.'

'I don't want her. I want you.' He reached up and cupped my breasts to squeeze them lightly. I could feel the warmth of his palms pressing against the hard nipples. 'I only want you,' he repeated. 

'Ah - well, that's the problem,' I said. 'You see, when Donna wants someone she has them. She's a beautiful woman, Jack, so how are you going to resist her? And she's a certainty, too - a one hundred percent chance. So aren't you tempted?'

He stared up at me. 'Jesus, Amie! You make it sound like I should. I thought that you and me - well, I thought that we -'

'Are doing this for love?' I laughed again, softly. 'Perhaps we are, Jack, but that won't stop Donna.' 

'Well, she's not here, and even if she was I wouldn't touch her.' He released my breasts and his hands grasped my waist, rocking me back and forward on this cock. My clit was pressed against the shaft and I was silent for a few moments as I savored the sensation. I could see he was close to cumming. 

'She's arriving tomorrow,' I told him. 'On the train.'

'Really?' He shook his head. 'I thought she was never going to set foot in this place again. You said -'

'I know what I said. Apparently she's changed her mind. She's going to give me some advice.'

I saw him digest the information. 'And how do you feel about that?' he asked. 

I shrugged. 'She'll do what she does.'

'And you don't mind?'

I thought about it. She'd be in his bed faster than a speeding bullet and she'd squeeze him between her golden thighs like an orange to suck the juice out of him. But there wasn't anything subtle about my sister - after she was done she'd get on the train and leave. They'd be no expectation of anything more. Jack would have a good time and I - well, I love to watch. 

'No, I don't mind.' In the back of my mind I wondered if that were true.

Jack stopped his thrusting for a few moments. 'You'd let me fuck her?'

'I don't think you'd have any choice. When Donna sets her sights on someone it's a foregone conclusion.'

He laughed. 'I think you underestimate me, Amie.' His hips began to thrust again and he reached up to fondle my tits. 'I'm sure she's got nothing that you haven't, and I'm happy with you.'

It was a nice thing to say, but it was naïve. It wasn't worth arguing over though, so I closed my eyes and rode the long waves of pleasure, and by and by I felt his cum splattering into my body again, and I wondered if there would soon be a little Jack filling my belly. 

*****

I'd last seen Donna two years ago, which isn't long in the grand order of things, but even I had trouble recognising her. Jack, who hadn't seen her in a dozen, would have walked right past her. 

She stood on the railway platform like the Queen of Sheba, dressed in an exquisite dress of the finest Italian silk that hugged her spectacular figure as if it had been painted on. It was a gun-barrel blue that exactly matched her eyes, and her shoes and handbag were just one shade lighter. On other women it might have looked plain, but on her it just seemed right. The glossy black hair was piled up on her head and fastened with a pin, and her eyes were as bright as a Magpie's. 

'Amie,' she breathed. Her lips brushed my cheek and I detected a scent of sandalwood, subtle and alluring. She turned to the figure by my side. 'And you must be my big brother.' She reached up and put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss his cheek, and I watched as her breasts pressed against him. Jack's body was rigid. They stood together for a few moments before she released him with a bright smile. 

'It's been too many years, Jack. You'll need to tell me all about it.'

'About what?'

Donna laughed and took his arm as she turned towards the car park, leaving me to carry her bag. 'Everything, Jack. It's been - what - twelve years. You must have had lots of adventures in that time... I mean, look at you!' She looked up into his face. 'Amie told me you were handsome but she didn't say how much - I bet you broke hearts wherever you went!' She tightened her grip on his arm, drawing him closer. 'And what about the coming home? I'm quite sure that's been so exciting too...getting to know all about Amie. I can't wait to hear about it.' 

'I - uh, well, there's really nothing to tell, Donna.'

'Oh phooey! You're just being modest, Jack - your life has been sooo much more exciting than mine!' Her lips formed a perfect 'O' as she articulated the word. I could see Jack looking at them as she spoke, as if mesmerized by their perfect shape and softness. Perhaps he was remembering what I'd told him Donna used to do with her lips, or perhaps the soft voice and the scent of her perfume was already drawing him into her spell. He moved beside her as she led him to the car, almost like a prisoner being led to the gallows. Poor Jack...he didn't understand she was already spinning the first silken threads of her web. He was like a fly with its feet caught, not yet realising its fate was sealed. 




The Watching Game Ch. 03



We threw Donna's bag in the back of the car and I offered the front seat to her but she slid in beside Jack, leaving me to drive like a chauffeur while she played her little game in the back. 

'I'm sure you'll want to tell me when we get to know each other a bit better.' She breathed. Her hand was on his arm and I could see him in the rearview mirror, looking at her face. 

'So how's your husband?' he asked pointedly. 'And the children. Two now, isn't it?'

'No, just the one. Little James.'

'I imagine he keeps you very busy. Hardly time to get out, I would think.'

Donna laughed, her teeth very white. 'The nanny looks after him mostly, Jack. I have plenty of time to do what I want.'

'And your husband?'

'He works hard. I don't see much of him.' She chuckled again, a throaty little sound. 'I suspect the nanny looks after him very well, too.'

'I see.' In the mirror I could see his eyes meeting hers for a moment. 'So how come it's taken you so long to come back here, Donna?'

She was silent for a moment. 'Ah, well, you know. A family quarrel. You were off having fun somewhere else, Jack, so you wouldn't understand. I heard you had family problems of your own.'

'I did. My wife was sleeping with half of my clients.'

'And that disturbed you?' She let surprise creep into her tone.

'I'm an old fashioned guy, Donna. Marriage means you don't fuck around - you know, for better and for worse, and all that stuff.' 

'But you're not married now.'

'Technically, I am. Cindy and I never divorced.'

'I see. So with your enviable morals you must be celibate, then.' Donna's eyes flicked to my mine in the mirror and I could see laughter in them.

'Well -'

'I'm teasing you, Jack. When you get to know me you'll find I don't make judgments about people. I find they get in the way, you know?' She looked into his face, her eyes button-bright. 'But you've made a judgment about me and now I have to try and dispel it.'

Jack stared at her, realizing he'd lost the initiative. She had this knack of making you feel inferior. 'Anyway, let's not talk about that now' she said brightly. 'Look! There's Ma Curney's old barn! Do you remember that, Jack? You and Sarah Foggety used to make out in there.'

'How did you -'

Donna chuckled. 'We used to hide up in the hayloft and watch. She had humungous breasts, as I remember, and she used to grunt a lot. We used to stuff cloths in our mouths to stop laughing.'

Jack smiled ruefully. 'I never knew I had an audience.'

'I'm not surprised. You had a whole lot on your mind, especially when she sat on your face.'

'She was a big girl,' he agreed. A vision of abundant flesh and pendulous breasts filled his mind. Sarah had been nothing if not enthusiastic, and she'd been good teacher in her own way. 'So what happened to her?'

'The usual,' Donna said. 'Married a local guy. Last I heard they had five kids and he's in the pub every night drinking to try and forget her.' She glanced at him mischievously. 'And the eldest looks just like you.'

Jack opened his mouth to respond but at that moment I turned into our driveway and the opportunity was past. 

*

'So where's mother?' Donna asked.

We were sat in the kitchen. I'd conducted a tour of the house and it was evident that the only occupants were the three of us. 

'She had business in Bristol - um, came up at short notice.' I chewed my bottom lip, a habit my friends told me I did when I was uncomfortable. 'Uh, she asked me to say she's sorry she couldn't be here.'

Donna shrugged. I could see her mind going back, perhaps remembering the night all those years ago when it had all gone terribly wrong: the betrayal and the shame and the anger. Even I could recall the words between them: hard words, as brutal as shards of glass thrust into each other's faces. Words that left no option but to leave home. It had taken years for her to come back and I could see she had hoped they might talk, but Mum's absence told her that nothing had changed. A pity, but perhaps some things were beyond redemption. 

'Tell her I'm sorry too.' She looked around the kitchen with its flagstone floor and old painted cupboards and her eyes strayed to the adjoining lounge, remembering how it had been. She got up and walked to the doorway, and I could see her remembering all the guys she'd shagged in there. 

And while she stood thinking I recalled the night Jim had taken her - there, on the carpet in front of the fireplace. He had laughed as he thrust into her mouth for the first time, and I remembered the pulsing of his cock as he unloaded down her throat, almost choking her. He'd fucked her then and for the first time she was powerless to resist. So what was so different about him? Was it Jim the man, or was it simply that he was her brother and sibling sex was forbidden fruit? 

Jack got up and moved behind her, as if drawn to the scene of her debauchery by some strange magnetic force. I could see her stir at the subtle fragrance of his skin: soap and leather and sweat; and beneath it, almost too faint to detect, the aroma of reluctant arousal. I'd sensed it as he sat beside me and I knew she would too, and she would work him like a marlin on a long line. The game was being played out right in front of my eyes: Donna and Jack, circling each other, each determined to win; and although it was early days yet I had no doubt of the outcome. 

'I think I'll go to bed,' I said. 'It's been a long day.' I smiled at the two of them, wondering if they could see the shadows in my eyes. 

'I'll come with you,' Jack said. 'I mean, I'll come up with you and go to my room.' He suddenly looked foolish. Donna knew we were fucking and there was no reason to try and hide it.

I stood up. 'There's no need, Jack, really. Stay and talk...you haven't seen each other in a long time, and probably won't again.' I smiled again. 'But don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

*

Jack sat at the kitchen table, looking at Donna: earlier in the evening she'd changed into a loose fitting smock that somehow managed to look stylish. Even the baggy shape accentuated the structure of her shoulders and the slim, creamy column of her neck. Her hair was tied in a pony tail and her face was scrubbed of make up, and not a mark or blemish stained the perfection of her skin. How old was she now? Twenty eight? She looked and sounded like a sixteen year old - no wonder men found her irresistible.  

There was a moment of awkward silence, almost as if they were on a first date. 

'Amie's a great kid,' Donna said, at length. There was subtle emphasis on the last word.

'Yes.'

'How old is she now? Eighteen?'

'Nineteen last August.'

'So she's nearly - what...twelve years younger than you.'

Jack nodded. 'That's right. And your point is?'

Donna took a sip of her drink and shrugged. 'Only that she's very young.'

'Amie can take care of herself, believe me. She's got a sharp mind and a sharp tongue, when she needs it.'

'Really? Did you know she's trying to get pregnant?'

Jack stared at her. 'No, I didn't.'

Donna smiled. 'Then you should. She's not on the pill or anything. She thinks having your baby would keep you together, somehow.' 

Jack felt a sudden lurch of guilt. He recalled his little sister's words on the first night: not in me, Jack, I'm not safe.  But he hadn't taken any notice and she'd never mentioned it again. He tried to remember how many times he'd spurted inside her...a lot over the last few days. Maybe she was in her fertile period. Maybe she was -

Donna's voice interrupted his thoughts. 'Did you discuss it with her?' 

'Uh - no, no, we didn't talk.'

'Well, she is very young.' There was a trace of patronisation in her voice. 

'What should I do?'

'Well, knowing Amie, once she's made her mind up you won't change it.' She touched the side of her face lightly as she considered the problem, the fingers long and slim. 'She says she can't take the pill. Is that right?'

'Search me.'

Donna shook her head in exasperation. 'So says the typical male. You know if she gets up the duff it will be your child as well as hers, right?'

'So what would you suggest?'

'Stop cumming inside her when she's fertile...do the withdrawal thing.'

Jack laughed. 'There's a billion Catholics in the world who will tell you that the withdrawal method doesn't work real well.'

'You're not a Catholic - so wear a condom.'

'I hate condoms.'

'Don't we all. Or you could do her somewhere else nice.'

'We've done the oral thing. It is nice, but no substitute.'

Donna smiled. 'I wasn't thinking of her mouth, Jack.'

Jack's eyes snapped to her face, surprised by the reference. He was old fashioned enough to think that anal sex was a deviation and he assumed Amie would feel the same. Donna met his gaze and for a moment they regarded at each other. He could feel himself losing the initiative again. 

'Uh - I'm not sure she would do that,' he said at last.

Donna laughed. 'She hasn't lived, then. If it's done properly it's mind blowing...you should teach her.' She stared at him. 'You have done it, right? With other women?'

'Sure. My ex and I tried it once but she didn't like it.'

'Your technique must have been shit.'

Jack thought it was an unfortunate choice of words. He recalled the event clearly and was aware of some of the mistakes they had made to give such a messy and embarrassing outcome. He'd been keen to try it again, but after the initial attempt Cindy had refused to entertain the idea ever again. A pity, as she'd had a fantastic set of buns and the little rosebud nestling between them had been a constant source of attraction to him. The thought triggered an image of Amie's tight little cheeks and he felt his cock stir. 

'Maybe.' Jack shrugged. 'It was a spur of the moment thing, and we didn't stop to read an instruction manual.' 

Donna shook her head. The single lamp on the nearby coffee table illuminated one side of her face accentuating the perfect bone structure, and her lips were apart: full and soft and inviting. 'Well, that's probably it then,' she agreed. 'Backdoor sex isn't something you just do spontaneously, Jack. Not if you both want to enjoy it.' She leaned toward him with an intense expression on her face, and her eyes were bold. 'With something like that, it would be better to get someone to show you,' she said. The words were heavy with innuendo. 

'Really? How do you think Amie would feel about that?'

'Amie loves watching, Jack. Trust me, she'll be there with her eyes glued to the action and her fingers in her pants, and she can learn too.' She saw the doubt in his eyes and smiled. 'Don't you think she wants this? Did you hear what she said when she walked away? Don't do anything I wouldn't do.  Trust me, Jack, she'll do anything for you and, what's more, she'll love it, once someone shows her how. You'd be doing her a favour.' 

'Amie's always been detached from the people she watches, Donna. She's never watched someone she loves fucking someone else.' 

Donna laughed dismissively. 'You're so wrong, Jack! Just about everyone she's watched has been someone she loves: Mum and Dad and me, not to mention Jim. I used to see her hiding behind the curtain with her eyes like saucers, watching Jim and I at it. Brother and sister, rutting like dogs on the floor at her feet. It turned her on more than anything else she'd ever seen...I could hear the squelch of her fingers even above what we were doing.' She shook her head. 'She's into that, and you shouldn't imagine for a moment her feelings for you would change it.'

'But -'

'No, Jack - no but's. Trust me, this is a little present she'll love. You need to get close and personal with someone who knows what they're doing, let her watch and then enjoy years of backdoor sex with your baby sister.' She smiled. 'And I promise she'll never get pregnant that way.'

Jack nodded. It was clear that she was making an offer but he wanted to play the game. 'Do you have anyone in mind who can teach me?' he asked innocently.

Donna glanced at his face to see if he was serious, and she smiled. 'Ah, well, that's another question,' she said. 'There's a number of criteria, you see.'

'Such as?'

'Well, it should be a woman, I think.'

'I agree.'

'And she needs to be attractive. I don't imagine little Amie would want to watch a dog.'

'Right.'

'And the teacher needs to be an expert in using her tight little tush, who doesn't mind an audience, who'll keep her mouth shut afterwards and who won't expect any sort of ongoing commitment. Oh - and if your little sister does decide to join in, teacher shouldn't be offended by a threesome.'

'That's a tall order. I don't suppose I'll ever find a person like that.'

Suddenly Donna tired of the game. She'd made the offer and Jack was either too stupid or two uptight to take her up on it. 'Well that's a real pity,' she said. 'But think about it, big brother, and if you come up with a name let me know and I'll see what I can do.' She drained the last of her drink and set the glass on the table, and her eyes met his. 'And I'd suggest you don't tell Amie what we said here,' she advised. 'It's between us, right?' and with that she stood up and walked from the room without another word. 

*

Of course, I didn't know anything of what they'd said. I'd waited in my room, expecting to hear the furtive tread of their footsteps along the corridor followed by the sound of fornication in his bed, but I didn't. Donna's light came on in the room across the courtyard and I perceived her looking through the window. It was too far to see her expression but the set of her shoulders was stiff and angry and for a few moments she stared into the darkness before turning away. So Jack had rejected her! Part of me was proud of him for resisting the temptation - but another part was disappointed...I'd told him she was irresistible and he'd proven me wrong. And if I was honest I guess I'd been curious, too, to find out how good she was compared to me.

A few minutes later there was a tap on the door and Jack appeared. He slipped into the room and we embraced before he held me at arms length to look into my face. 

'God,' he said. 'It's good to see you Amie. I feel like I've just escaped from Medusa.'

I put down the book I'd been reading. 'I'm surprised you're still standing, Jack. Did she put the word on you?'

He sat on the bed. 'Sort of. She wants to show me ways to have fun with you without risk of pregnancy.'

'Really? But we've already done that. I swallowed it.'

'Right.'

'So what was she on about?'

He smiled. 'I guess that's what she meant, Amie.'

But I could see it wasn't that. They'd discussed something else and he didn't want to tell me. I sat next to him and thought for a moment and then it came to me. Anal. She wanted him to pop my little rosebud cherry, and she'd offered to show him how to do it. The notion that he needed tuition was so preposterous that I almost laughed, but of course it wasn't about that. It was about Donna getting Jack to fuck her, and this was simply an excuse. 

'So what happens now?' I asked. 'With her, I mean.'

'She went to bed, so I guess that leaves you and me.' He leaned forward and his lips touched mine, soft and moist. I could feel myself responding, my pussy clenching and my heart beating a little faster. He reached up and put his arms around me, and we kissed.

His cock was as hard as a stick when he slid it into me. I could feel its warmth stretching upwards to my belly, and I lifted my legs to give him better access, my hips rolling upwards slightly and the angle of his thrusts changing. The friction of his cock rubbing against me changed too, the shaft no longer pressing on my clit but going deeper, touching something inside. I could feel his balls brushing against my rosebud, too: something I'd not paid much attention to before. Maybe it was the particular angle of his thrusts, or perhaps it was because Donna had sewn the seed in my mind. Whatever it was, the little crimping hole suddenly became the focus of my attention as his scrotum rubbed over it. 

'Can you lift your legs further?' he whispered. 'I want to be deeper.' He watched as I rolled my legs back and tucked my arms over my thighs to wedge them. I've never been particularly flexible but it worked and he had absolute and complete access to me. His cock burrowed even deeper and I felt the bloom of moisture at my cunt in response. 

'I'm in deep, Amie,' he whispered, and he seized my thighs and pushed them even further back. My torso rolled upwards and he sighed as his shaft slid into me another few millimetres. 'Can you see it?' he asked.

'Oh yes.' I watched as it withdrew, the shaft pink and shining with my juice and my pussy lips grasping, sliding over the greasy skin. At last the head appeared, the rim white with my cream and the head suffused a deep purple like a ripe plum. He held it there for a moment with the tip still lodged between my lips before pressing forward again. It disappeared inside my body, its heat and girth filling me as it reached deep inside, until at last he bottomed out with the root of his shaft barely visible. Once again I felt his balls pressing against my anus, and I crimped it spasmodically. 

Jack laughed. 'I can feel that. It's like it's grasping at me.'

'Maybe it is.' I teased the idea in my mind...Jack's cock in my ass. Another virginity to offer - but what would it be like?

'Have you ever done it?' I asked. 'Up the back, I mean.'

'Once. With Cindy, not long before we split.'

'Was it good?'

'It didn't do anything for her, so she stopped the process.' He smiled ruefully. 'I think she'd already found a way to have fun without putting herself out for me.'

'But what about you? Did you like it?'

He nodded. 'She had a pretty cute little butt and I'd wanted to do it for a long time.'

'What about my butt?'

He laughed. 'Even better than hers. Perfect, in fact.'

'So you'd like to do it? To me, I mean.'

His eyes met mine. 'Only if you wanted to, Amie.'

I thought about it. Jack's cock wasn't the largest I'd ever seen, but it sure looked big compared to the little hole in question. I'd had difficulty even pushing a finger up there, and I didn't relish the thought of anything much larger. 'It must hurt,' I said. 'I mean, it's pretty tight, and you're - well, you know, um - bigger.'

'It stretches, but you need to do it right - especially to begin with.'

'And Donna wants to show you?'

'Apparently.'

A familiar warmth suffused my belly at the thought that I might be able to watch her, just like old times. 'Would you let her? If I asked you to?'

He stared at me. 'Why would you want to do that? I'm sure we could figure it out -'

'Because she's right, Jack - if we do it wrong it will spoil the moment.' I didn't tell him I wanted to watch: to observe the instant his head popped through the reluctant little opening to bury itself in her rectum. I wanted to see how deep he could go, and see Donna's expression as her big brother violated her bottom. I imagined how tight her ring would look stretched around his rod, and how I would feel knowing that the very next ass it entered would be mine. The thought made my cunt contract and he laughed. 

'You're turned on by it, aren't you?' he said. 'I can feel you gripping me.' He pulled out suddenly and bent to observe my little rosebud, his face close to my most secret opening. 'You really want to try it, don't you?'

'Maybe - but not yet. Try it on Donna first.'

His eyes slid to my face and I saw him regarding me for a moment, reading my thoughts. 

'You want to watch,' he said softly. 'That's what this is about. You want to see me fuck her in the ass.' He waited for me to respond and then nodded, my silence confirming his words. 'You've never seen it and the thought turns you on.' He bent forward suddenly and his tongue touched my anus, the tip flicking over the crinkled flesh. The sensation was so exquisite that I gasped. 




The Watching Game Ch. 03



'Do you like that, Amie?' he asked. The tongue flickered again, the tip teasing me, pressing against the twitching opening. 'Would you like me to fuck you there, little sister, after you've watched me do Donna?'

'Ah! God, Jack...yes...but not - ah...not yet. Fuck, that's good!'

His hands grasped my hips and he pressed his face closer, warming to the task. I could feel the whisper of his breath on my flesh and then his tongue again, fluttering over the tight ring as lightly as a shadow. My pussy spasmed at the sensation and I felt a dribble of juice escape from between its twitching lips, and I heard his words.

'I can see it Amie,' he whispered. 'Nestling between your cheeks.' He dabbed it briefly with his tongue and I groaned. 'It's pink and clean and -' he pressed his mouth to me again and I felt the tip enter me like a little arrow '- tight.' His hands were on my buttocks, holding them open. 'It's a feast, really,' he said. 'Two little windows to your body, Amie. Your pussy -' he paused to plunge his tongue into it, catching the dribble of cream flowing from me, '-and your anus.' His mouth closed over the tight opening and I felt his lips nibbling, nibbling, and the tip of his tongue press through the narrow opening.

I remember my body jerking with the sensation like an epileptic...I'd never realised how sensitive that tight little circle of flesh was, nor the sheer fucking eroticism of having my brother's tongue pushing through it. I could feel the sphincter twitching, like a little mouth, trying to suck him into the burning heat of my bowels, and my cunt flowed like a river as his lips and tongue fluttered over the crinkled flesh.

'Do you like that, Amie?' he asked, and his voice was scratchy with excitement. 'Do you like having your tight little booty hole licked and sucked by your big brother?'

'You have no idea, Jack. I...God, that's...so -' 

Suddenly he pulled back. I could see his face looking up at me from between my opened thighs: my cream shining on his cheeks and lips. 'I'm going to fuck you now,' he said. 'But just imagine, Amie, what I'll be doing the next time.' And he plunged his cock into my pussy.

My cunt swallowed him - no, devoured him, and if I could have sucked his balls into my body as well I would have. He thrust up and down like a madman, his prick pounding into me like a jackhammer and the bulbous head of his rampant cock battering my cervix. I remember putting my legs on his shoulders and seizing his waist to ride out the storm; my body bent upwards, my pussy open and wet and vulnerable to his every thrust. The room was filled with the sound of our fucking: a wet, thumping rhythm interspersed by our moans and grunts. The bed was bashing against the wall and the mattress springs squeaked and rattled in protest and I was as helpless as a rag doll being shaken by a terrier. On and on and on it went: a wet, thumping, delicious coupling: my cunt and my brother's cock together, the flesh merging, rubbing, twitching; our cream mingling, churned to a white froth that bubbled at the lips of my opening as he plunged into me. 

And my mind was filled with the image of Donna, her face contorted with pain and pleasure as he took her. I perceived his cock buried between the tight curves of her buttocks, held by the grip of her sphincter, and I saw how its purple head appeared and disappeared through the tight, grasping ring. I imagined stretching out my hand and touching him, feeling the burning heat of his rod as it lanced into that beautiful golden body.

And suddenly a great wind filled my head and I shrieked as the climax took me. My pussy was throbbing, clasping at the slippery intruder within it and my brain felt it would explode in my skull from the intensity of my ecstasy. Somewhere in the myriad of bursting stars I was aware that he, too, was crying out, and I felt the sudden warmth of his seed as he sprayed into me. My sex was clasping, clasping, milking the throbbing rod buried inside it and my hands grasped him tightly to hold him in deep as my body twitched and wriggled under him. 

At last the storm-surge cleared and I perceived Jack above me, his face still contorted with pleasure; and to one side, in the soft light of the bedside lamp, I could see our reflection in the big wall mirror. My body was bent in a 'U' with my legs tucked under my arms and my hair spread over the pillow - and my brother was above me, his torso pressed against the cushion of my ass and his arms supporting his weight. I could see my fingers resting lightly on his back, slim and white against his darker flesh, and his buttocks twitching as he dribbled the last vestiges of his sperm into my soft and willing body. I imagined it inside me, coating the walls of my cunt in a milky curtain, dripping and drooling towards the entrance to my womb. Perhaps, in this instant, we were creating a new life. Perhaps -

'I love you, Amie.' His eyes were soft as they regarded me.

'I love you too, Jack.'

'We don't need her, you know. We have each other.'

'I know.' The sweat was cooling on my skin and the passion cooling with it, but it didn't stop the nagging image of my brother's cock penetrating my sister's tight little anal ring, and how much fun I would have watching. 

*

'I saw you last night,' Donna said. She was sat at the breakfast table, munching on a piece of toast and even this early in the morning she looked like a Vogue model. She might be a slut but as sure as hell she was a classy one. 'You should draw the curtains, or do it in the dark.'

I shrugged. 'It all happened quickly, Donna. The last thing I was thinking of was getting up to close the drapes. You should keep your eyes to yourself.'

Donna laughed. 'So says the biggest voyeur I know.' She swallowed her mouthful of toast and took a swig of coffee. 'I see you're still practicing unsafe sex,' she said. 'Trust me, Amie, you don't want a kid by him.'

'So what can I do? I can't take the pill and he doesn't like condoms and we enjoy screwing.'

'Why can't you take the pill?'

'I have side effects: vomiting and nausea, mainly. They've tried different types but it seems I'm one of the rare people who just can't take them.'

'I see.' She regarded me with her black, fathomless eyes. I could tell she didn't believe me, but that wasn't my concern. 'Well, trust me Amie. You really don't want to get pregnant by Jack.'

'Why not? Just because he's my brother -'

'And that's the point Amie! He is your brother, and that means there are certain risks that just aren't worth it, trust me.'

I stared at her, suddenly understanding. Little James, her son, who none of us had ever seen. Not even a photograph - and she never spoke of him either. Was he Jim's child? Had she named him after his father, or was it just wishful thinking? Perhaps he really was her brother's son and there was something wrong with him. That would account for her concern, at any rate. 

'Well, nothing's happened so far,' I said. 'Perhaps I'm not fertile - or he's not.'

Donna leaned forward. 'You just can't rely on that,' she said. 'It's not good enough.'

'So what can I do? Jack just isn't keen on - well, you know...external release.'

'You could stop fornicating with him.' 

Her hypocrisy took my breath away for a second, and I laughed. 'That's rich coming from you, Donna. How many guys have you fucked? Five hundred? A thousand? You must have a very understanding husband. And what about Jim? I don't remember you holding back when that brother wanted to play hide the sausage with his big sister.'

Donna stared at me, her eyes burning with anger. She opened her mouth to respond and then shut it again with an effort. There was silence at the table for a few moments whilst she controlled her temper and when she spoke her voice was calm. 

'Look, I didn't come here to fight with you, Amie. I just don't think you realise the risk, that's all. I'm here to help you...I want to help.'

'So what would you suggest?'

'I had a talk with Jack last night. I offered to help...to show him. I thought you wouldn't mind, being as you like to - well, observe.'

'And what little show did you offer to put on for my benefit?'

She hesitated. 'He didn't agree, so there's really no point in talking about it.'

'Perhaps I might agree.'

Donna peered into her cup to see how much coffee was left in it. 'I'm sure you would, but it really takes two of you, Amie. He's the one with hang-ups, so until he agrees there's nothing going to happen.' She set her cup down with a clatter. 'And then you'll get pregnant and ruin your life.'

I opened my mouth to tell her that her life was hardly ruined, but it wouldn't have served any purpose. Besides, I was trying to encourage her to have sex with Jack, not to get into an argument about semantics. 

'I see. Well, I'll have a little chat with Jack and tell him to listen to my big sister.'

She smiled. 'Thank you. You understand that I'm doing this for you, right?'

I almost laughed out loud. If Donna thought getting Jack to poke me in the tush was the answer to all my problems she wasn't on this planet, and besides, she could give him half a dozen hints and we'd do just fine without the benefit of her body. But I already knew that she wanted Jack inside her and I knew why, so it wasn't worth fighting over. Besides, I really wanted to watch them. 

'I do,' I said. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome.'

'I do have one condition.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Really?'

'Yep. If there's a demonstration involved, I want to be there.'

'I never thought you wouldn't be, little sister,' she said, 'and I really think it would be much better if you were right there in the room with us.'

'You don't mind? Some people are a little shy.'

Donna laughed. 'I'm not shy, Amie. It will be just like old times.'

'So you don't mind if I take pictures, too?'

Donna considered. 'You can't show my face.'

'I won't.'

'And I get to see them before you make any copies. I have editing rights.' 

'Agreed.'

And so that was it. All I had to figure out was how to get Jack to agree. 

*

In the event, it turned out much easier than I thought once he figured I wouldn't be pissed off with him.

'So when do you want me to do the deed?' he asked.

'You'd better speak to Donna.' I laughed. 'But she seems to be in a hurry, so make sure you're wearing clean undies when you ask.'

'And what will you do when I'm...well, you know, with her?'

'I'll be with you.'

'Really? Does she know?'

'Yep. She's happy for me to take photos, too.'

Jack stared at me. 'Photos? What the hell do you want photos for?'

'Because this is a tutorial and we may have to refer to them later.'

He laughed briefly. 'Yeah, like hell. You just want to perve on the pictures later.'

'No, I want us to perve on them, Jack. Wouldn't you like to cuddle up to me later and look at nice photos of you diddling your sister's ass? You never know where it might take us.'

He rubbed his hand over his face. 'Fuck, I don't know, Amie. I still can't get my head around this thing. I don't need this, honey. We don't need it. Let's forget the whole idea.'

'We've talked about this Jack. We've agreed, and you've said you'll do it.'

'But -' 

I felt the anger rising in me. 'No buts, Jack! Most guys would give their left nut for an hour or two with Donna and you're being handed it on a plate! I need this, buster, and so does she, and it isn't exactly a chore for you, either. So quit moaning and get used to the idea!'

'What if I can't get it up?' he persisted. 'Suppose we get our gear off and all I can produce is a limp noodle? Have you thought of that?'

'If that happens, and I bet it won't, we'll worry about it then.'

'I won't cum into her then,' he said, 'I'll save that for you.' He had a stubborn expression on his face. 

I almost laughed out loud, but stopped myself just in time. If that's what it took to ease his conscience then it was a small price, and besides, it would be interesting to see if he could actually restrain himself.

'All right, if that's what you want. Now, I have to go to the stables.'

I left him there, grumbling and bitching but I could see it was more about trying to impress me with notions of fidelity rather than any real complaint. Jack was nothing if not a realist and he knew I wanted it to happen, and he'd also figured that servicing Donna wasn't going to be much of a chore at all. He was, after all, just a guy, and free sex wasn't something you ever knocked back even if you weren't going to cum at the end.

*

'So how is this going to work?' Jack asked. The dinner plates were piled at the end of the table and the second bottle of wine had just given up its last few drops. 

'I'll go upstairs first,' Donna said. Her eyes were bright but whether it was with alcohol or excitement it was hard to tell. She turned to me. 'You should come with me, Amie. I'll show you how to prepare.'

Jack nodded. 'I'll come up a bit later then.' He clutched his drink and laughed briefly as we stood up. 'Don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

We left him there staring into his glass and I followed Donna up the stairs and along the corridor to the end bedroom. The thick carpet blanketed our footsteps and we did not speak, which suited me for my mind was full of what was about to happen. I remember thinking how surreal it was, that it was something you might only read about in a fantasy and I had to remind myself this time it was real...that Donna really was about to bend over the bed and take her brother in her bottom, and I was there to capture it all in living colour. I watched her as she moved, with her trim little body and little cup-case buttocks as round as a pair of oranges in a bag, and I felt a breathless anticipation that heightened the senses like a narcotic flowing through my veins. The sounds and colours and scents around me seemed brighter and fresher, somehow, almost as if time had slowed a little bit. Suddenly I could hardly wait to get started. 

Donna kicked off her shoes by the side of the bed and turned her dark eyes on me. 'The secret of backdoor sex is preparation,' she said. 'You can help me as soon as you get your camera set up.' She rummaged in her bag and extracted a package before walking though to the little ensuite. 

By the time I'd joined her she was naked. Her little red dress and matching underwear lay on the white tiled floor like a puddle of blood, and she stood before me. Her body was fuller than I remembered: the curve between her ribcage and the swell of her buttocks accentuating the narrowness of her waist, and her skin was flawless - a creamy, café au lait sheen that glowed with health and vitality. For a moment I was transported back in time, crouching in the alcove watching this same body. Her breasts were perhaps a little lower now, and her hips a little broader - but its voluptuousness enhanced rather than detracted from her beauty. 

'Have you ever used an enema kit, Amie?' she asked. 

'I - well, no.'

She smiled. 'You should, you know. Just now and again - but especially if you're going to let him have your bottom.'

'I don't even know what it is, Donna.'

'It's like this.' She drew the item from her bag and showed me. 'It's simple, really. You fill this bag with warm water, insert this tube into your anus and turn on this little tap when you're ready.'

'And then what?'

'Let the water stay in you for as long as you can and then sit on the loo to get rid of it.' She laughed at my expression. 'Really, it's easy - look, I'll show you.'

I watched as she filled the bag with water and hooked it over the towel rail. 'You must get rid of the air in the tube,' she said, 'and make sure the water isn't too hot or too cold. Here - can you hold this?' She handed me the tube. 'I'll kneel here and I want you to insert it into me...this end, where the hard nozzle is. It's best if you moisten me first...just a bit, then hold my cheeks apart and press it in. Just go gently, right?'

I watched as she laid a towel on the floor and crouched on it, her bottom pushed up and her shoulders on the tiles. Touching my sister's tush wasn't what I'd envisaged, but the whole thing was getting to me. 'Wet it first,' she reminded me. Just a bit of spit, and then put the tip in first. And when you push it you need to be very careful.'

It was easy, really. I grasped the cheeks and levered them apart and there, nestling between them was her little rosebud, as clean and tight as a newborn baby's. It twitched when I drooled saliva on to it, and she giggled. 'Touch it, Amie,' she murmured, 'gently, with your finger. Make sure it's wet.'

I brushed the tip of my fingers against the crinkled hole and she grunted softly. 'That's it...ah, that's nice. Just rub it gently - ah, ah, that's it!'

Donna's hands crept up to her buttocks to hold them open to give me better access, and I moved my face closer to the delicious curve of her ass to see better. There were bubbles of spittle caught in the tight wrinkles of her anus and they gleamed under the bright lights as my fingers moved. She grunted softly again. 'Press,' she said, 'a little harder.'

I pushed gently, delighting in the slippery roughness of it, watching as the tiny opening resisted me. I was suddenly seized by the desire to break through the rubbery seal of that tight little circle and touch the flesh of her rectum and so I pressed harder, feeling the muscle repelling the pressure. Suddenly the sphincter surrendered and the tip of my forefinger slid into her body, and she groaned again. 

'Ah, fuck! Gently... hold it.' The flesh gripped me firmly.

'Jesus, Donna. It's tight. How are you going to take him in there?'

'It - stretches.' She crimped her anus and I felt it sucking at my finger like a fish's mouth 'You just have to be patient. Push deeper.'

My finger slid in to the second knuckle, the flesh admitting me reluctantly. I was amazed how tight it was, and I told her.

'Yours will be the same,' she said. 'Tighter, probably, if you've never done it. You just have to take it easy until it stretches, and use some oil.' She laughed softly. 'Lots of oil, and you'll have no trouble taking him there.' She wriggled her bottom. 'Move your finger in and out.'

I obliged, watching as her anus gripped the knuckle. The sphincter was locked around it and despite what she'd said I couldn't imagine how Jack's cock was going to fit. It was going to be an interesting evening. 

'He'll be here soon, Amie,' Donna said. 'Take it out now...put the tube in.'

My finger broke free with a slight sucking noise and I applied the nozzle to the tiny opening, watching as it penetrated through the little hole I'd opened. 'Deeper,' she whispered. 'That's it...gently, gently.' The nozzle disappeared and Donna grunted as she felt it sliding towards her belly. 'All right. Now, turn it on.'

I turned the little tap and watched the fluid flowing through the clear plastic pipe into her body. 'How much will it take?' I asked.

'This bag is only a litre,' she said. 'If you do a deep enema you can take a lot more, but it can get uncomfortable. This one is...nice, and we'll flush it through a couple of times.' She looked up at the bag. 'Is it working?'

'Not really. It seems to have stopped.'

Donna shifted her position slightly and the flow continued. 'Sometimes it does that, and you have to move a bit. Some people like to be on their side but I find it drains quicker if I'm kneeling.' She laughed lightly. 'And there's something about being on your knees with your bottom in the air - it's like, well, you're subservient, waiting to be fucked.' She was silent for a few moments whilst the water dribbled into her bowels, and then she spoke again. 'Some people think this preparation is a chore, Amie, but it's not. It's an important part of the game, and it feels good too. I'm wet already, and I haven't even touched myself.'




The Watching Game



One part of the upper floor had been partitioned off – a more recent structure, and I entered it. The only furniture was a desk pushed against the window and a narrow bed on the opposite side with a small table next to it. One wall was covered with pictures: in frames, mostly, but interspersed with squares of photographic paper fastened to the rough wood with sewing pins stuck in at odd angles. Old pictures, to begin with: of family, mostly. Happy, smiling faces – me and Donna straddling the back of a skinny grey mare, and Mum at the beach on one of our rare holidays, sitting in a deckchair and laughing. Dad in front of the old ford, his moustache gleaming in the sun; and another of him under a tractor, peering up at the camera with a smear of grease on one cheek and the trademark cigarette butt protruding from one corner of his mouth. They'd killed him in the end, those little white cylinders. 

There was a group picture, too, taken much later - Donna and Jim and Mum and me standing in front of the house. There was a little girl in it too, smiling at the camera with her beautiful golden eyes that were so much wiser than her little face. Amie. I hadn't seen it at the time, but even then she seemed to have a presence about her, as if she was the subject in the picture and the rest of us were there simply as props. She was stood between Mum and me with each of us resting a hand on her shoulders. Little Amie. 

My thoughts were broken by a sudden commotion from the far end of the building: a series of heavy thuds that shook the old timbers, and a loud whinnying and snorting filled the air. The noise filled the stables, urgent and insistent: much louder and more strident than the normal sound of horses, and I turned and hurried towards it. I could see now that the top floor ended about two thirds of the way along the building – almost like a viewing area, set above some of the stalls below. My footsteps were concealed by the cacophony and I was hidden by the relative gloom of the upper floor so that I arrived at the loft undetected, leaning over the protective balustrade to see what the source of the noise was. 

A shaft of sunlight streamed from the skylight above my head to illuminate the scene beneath me, its light misted by the dust thrown up by the commotion below. In its beam I could see Amie, crouching slightly to peer through the railings into the first stall. From my vantage point I could see most of her face as she gazed forward: her eyes bright with excitement and her mouth slightly open, and the flash of white teeth between the softness of her lips. The flush of her skin and her furtive glances betrayed her agitation, and I wondered what she was doing and why she did nothing to stop the dreadful cacophony next to her: and then, as I watched, I understood. 

There were two horses in the stall - a black stallion, his coat gleaming with vitality and health, and a mare, wedged into the corner with her rump toward him. She had moved her tail to the side in preparation for the coupling and he was massively excited, dancing behind her, rearing up and then falling back in a frenzy of passion and his breath snorted and whinnied through his nose. Amie's eyes were fixed upon his organ – as black as coal and as thick and long as her forearm, the knob exposed like an apple and gleaming with moisture in anticipation of his penetration. He reared up once more, his forelegs straddling the creature beneath him and Amie pressed closer to the railing, watching closely as his head of his cock punched through the thick lips of the mare's sex, and how she arched her back to absorb the long slide of his shaft into her body. 

For a moment of time the two horses below me were still: the mare subservient, bearing the weight of the stallion whose loins were pushed hard against her rump - and then he began to hump into her, his back arching like a bow to drive himself forward with each thrust. The aroma of their coupling filled my nostrils: the odour of crushed straw and dust overlaid by the rank musk of their excitement, as sharp and primeval as the scent of people fucking, and I wondered for a fleeting moment if it was the horses I could smell or perhaps Amie's excitement. I imagined what was in her mind as she watched: the hot glow of lust at the base of her belly and the growing ache at the apex of her thighs, and the sensuousness of the moment burst in my brain like a supernova. I had been without a woman for months and now I was watching one: young and beautiful and aroused. I envisaged her sex pressed against the material of her knickers, her labia thickening with desire and opening slightly as she watched the gigantic cock thrusting before her; and I pictured the ooze of her juices seeping out of the warm, secret passage of her body to smear into her pants. 

My cock hardened rapidly at the image, and I leaned forward a little further to watch. She had pressed her face to the wooden railings, transfixed by the scene before her. One slender hand was against the dark stained wood of the pillar to her left and the other gripped the rails before her, knuckles white with excitement. Her body was pushed back, legs slightly apart and her buttocks were pressed against the tightness of her jodhpurs so that I could see each cheek clearly defined, their roundness curling under the pale material to the dark and mysterious shadow of her crotch. 

And as she watched the stallion shuddered and hosed himself into the subservient creature beneath him. For a few seconds he was still, his haunches twitching spasmodically, and then with a final snort of breath he disengaged and the thick black root of his cock drew clear, dribbling and dripping with his seed. 

Amie turned away, her eyes scanning left and right to ensure she was alone. She thrust her back against the railings and scrabbled with the buttons at her waist, pulling the thick material of her jodhpurs aside. For an instant I glimpsed her panties, vivid red against the pale flesh of her belly, and stained dark at the crotch where she had leaked into the fabric – and then her fingers were there, plunging under the elastic to press against herself, rubbing frantically. Her eyes were closed, her face turned toward the sun. She cupped one breast with her free hand, pinching the nipple through her shirt and rolling it in her fingers. Her face was contorted with pleasure, her lips soft and wet and they moved gently as she murmured something to herself. 

From my vantage point above I watched her pleasuring herself. She pulled her hand from her pants and lifted it to her face, her little pink tongue lapping between her fingers to draw the shining strands of her juices into her mouth before she plunged them back inside her. I fancied I could see her discharge shining on her lips and discern the soft wet suck of her vulva as her fingers shimmied over it. Sister or not, I imagined it was me crouching before her, my tongue plunging into her pussy and my cheeks coated with the slick oily wetness of her juice as it streamed from her. My hands were grasping the tightness of her little buttocks, pulling her against my face to better eat her, and I could feel her hands in my hair like fluttering sparrows as she spiraled towards her orgasm. 

My cock was bursting against my pants and I touched myself through my jeans, rubbing the long shaft, imagining how tight she would be as she lowered her body onto it. I envisaged her eyes on my face as I penetrated her, those serene golden eyes flaring as my shaft reached up towards her belly. I imagined the tight plasticity of her body and the warmth of her breasts filling my hands and the hardness of her nipples pressing against my palms like burning pebbles, and I delighted in the suck of her flesh as she rode me. 

With a thin cry Amie came. Her back arched and she rose on tip-toe, every muscle in her body stretched like a bowstring and her face contorted with pleasure. For long seconds she balanced there, her hand twitching spasmodically in her pants and her fingers buried inside her pussy to draw the long waves of pleasure from her body and then, at last, she sagged back against the railings and she opened her eyes, soft and unfocussed from the heights of her pleasure. 

I withdrew quietly into the shadows above her head, and like a thief in the night I crept back along the dusty floorboards to the little office where I lay on the narrow cot and waited for her to leave the building. I understood now why she hadn't wanted me to help this morning – she knew that the mare was in season and had been looking forward to a little session of premeditated sex, even if it was solo. I thought the whole lesbian argument had just been an excuse to send me away, and that perhaps she did like me a bit after all – or at least, she didn't dislike me. 

But most of all I thought about her - a jumbled collage of vivid images flickering my brain: Amie, her face filled with lust as she watched the horses fucking; Amie, leaning against the massive oak beam with her hand inside her pants; and, perhaps most disturbing of all – Amie, whispering my name as she played with the warm, wet folds of her cunt.

*

We were already sat down at the dinner table when Amie arrived. She had showered and was wearing a dress – a pale cream creation with brown edging, and a touch of make up. I could see Mum looking at her with some surprise. 

"Are you going out, Amie?" she asked.

"No."

"So why are you dressed up?"

A touch of colour crept into her face. "I'm not. I just thought it would be nice to wear something different for a change."

I smiled at her. "It looks lovely, Amie. I was thinking about walking down to the Pub after supper. Would you like to come with me? And you, too, Mum?"

My mother shook her head. "Not me. I've got a few things to finish off and I might get an early night. You two should go, though – it will be nice for you to catch up after you being away so long, Jack."

After the meal we cleared up together, with Amie washing the dishes and me drying them, and I could still sense a feeling of reserve as we worked. 

I regarded her as I hung the tea towel on the hook. "Are you still up for a drink?"

She shrugged. "If you like."

"Great! I'll get my coat and see you back here in a couple of minutes."

It was about a ten minute walk to the village and we used the Bridle Path to cut through the woods to the east of the farm. The bare branches of the trees were silhouetted against the deep indigo of the sky and a few stars were visible. We walked in silence for a while, not touching, the beam from my torch throwing a pool of light just ahead of our feet. 

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," I said at length, more to break the silence than from sincerity.

"I very nearly didn't." 

I turned to her in surprise. "Why?"

She looked at me, her face a pale blur in the reflected torchlight. "You've done a lot to upset everyone in the family, Jack," she said bluntly. "And there's other things that happened that you don't know about, which are more complicated now that you're here." She was quiet for a few moments and the only sound was our footsteps on the soft earth and then she stopped and put her hand on my arm. 

"Do you understand what I'm saying? You never stayed in contact and what we did hear was through the newspapers or an occasional magazine article...mostly about your lavish lifestyle and women and booze. And then you suddenly turn up, as if nothing had happened for the last eight years, expecting to slot back into everybody's lives." She removed her hand and started walking again, and I could feel the residual warmth of her touch through the material of my coat. "So don't expect us to welcome you with open arms, Jack. There's too many questions in the closet for that."

I smiled at her mixed metaphor. "Don't you mean skeletons?"

"Probably some of those as well – you know what I mean."

I considered her words as we walked together. It was true – I had expected to come home and just slot in, as she put it, but even in the few days I had been back I was aware of undercurrents in the house that were odd, to say the least. And Amie had shown herself to be more complex than I had first imagined, too: she wasn't just the dumb kid sister – she had a view, although I hadn't figured out what it was yet, and she spoke her mind. I had the feeling that it wouldn't be easy to change it, but it suddenly seemed important that I should. 

"You are right – about me, I mean."

"I know," she said. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"What would you suggest?"

"You could start by talking."

"About what?"

"About you. Not just the stuff we read about...I mean, about what you did, and why, and what went wrong." She walked a few steps. "I want to know what makes you tick, Jack," she explained, "and whether you and I have anything at all in common." She looked ahead. "Ah, here we are. Why don't you buy me a drink and I'll get a table."

There were only a couple of other people in the lounge bar and Amie seated herself not far from the fire that was crackling cheerfully in the grate. She looked up without smiling as I put down a bottle of wine and my beer and she sat silently for a while, thinking. When she spoke it was not the angle I was expecting.

"Living in a small village is difficult, sometimes," she said. "Everybody knows everybody else's business, and what they don't know they make up." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "That's Amanda Pascoe over by the bar – slim, long chestnut hair – a nice girl. Very friendly, if you know what I mean. She puts out, but she wouldn't like people to think that." She indicated another table with a nod of her head. "And that's Rose Treleven – a hard nut. She's a man-eater. The going joke is that her pussy has more teeth than a great white shark. Rumor has it that she led a vendetta against a woman here a few years back – they thought she'd been sleeping with her brother so she ran her out of town. Tarred and feathered her, from what I hear. Nasty -" 

I cut her short. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Human beings are all so different, Jack, in the way we behave and what we value and what we don't." She took a sip of her drink. "And you'd expect that, in a community – but not in the same family. Have you ever thought about it – how different we all are - Mum and me and Donna and Jim? I sometimes think we can't possibly be related." She regarded me for a moment, her eyes on mine. "But I've figured them out, Jack, over the years. I know all of their strengths and weaknesses. You, on the other hand -"

"There's not much to figure out."

She shook her head. "You know that's not true. Everyone has a cupboard full of secrets. What are yours Jack?"

I could feel myself getting annoyed with her presumption. "They wouldn't be secrets if I told you, Amie. Why don't you get to know me like normal people do – you know, talk, do things together, figure out what we like and what we don't -"

"I don't work like that. I don't have the time or the patience."

"What makes you think I care about how you work or what you think of me?"

She smiled. "Oh, you care, Jack," she said sweetly. "I've seen you looking at me. I think you'd like to know me a whole lot better."

"You flatter yourself, Amie. I've hardly seen you since I've been back."

"You got an eyeful in the stables this morning."

Her words were like a punch in the belly, robbing me for a moment of coherent thought. I gaped at her with my mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. She leaned forward, pressing her advantage. "And you seemed to be enjoying it, too. Isn't that right, Jack? Didn't you like watching your sister with her hands in her pants? From what I could see you were really enjoying it."

"I – well, I didn't mean -"

She laughed at my discomfort. "Sure you did – and that's OK Jack. I don't mind – I really don't. It sort of added to the moment, knowing that you were there. But now you know something about me and I want the favour returned."

I stared at her without saying anything. So much for tranquility and serenity – she was more like a leopard - with her aggressive, glittering golden eyes and her little white teeth ready to sink into someone's jugular. 

I watched her pour another drink from the bottle, her third glassful since we had arrived. "So tell me about your wife," she said. 

I gathered my thoughts, happy to move on from the subject of the stables. "Cindy? What can I say? She was a perfect partner – to begin with. She was well groomed and beautiful. She oozed charm and breeding, and was wonderful at helping my business and my career – you know, inviting the right people to dinner, making each of them feel they were the most special guest we'd ever had. She was the blueprint of a perfect hostess and a devoted wife -"

"So what went wrong?"

"I'd failed to spot the naked ambition - and the kinky sex drive." 

"Tell me."

"She wanted everything, and she took it. Behind the façade of a dutiful wife she was lining her pockets with Company money and filling her bed with Company clients."

"And you didn't notice?"

"Not at first – but as the Company got bigger she started to spend more time out on so called social events. I took her to task but she just laughed at me – said that I should be happy that she was out drumming up business. I couldn't prove she was sleeping around, but I suspected it."

Amie laughed. "If she was sleeping you would have had nothing to worry about. Don't you mean 'fucking around'?" 

I looked at her sharply. She had shifted the conversation to a sexual flavour very quickly and I could see she was enjoying herself. "So what did you do about it?" she asked.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. I suppose I knew that she needed more from me than I could give. I figured I could either accept that, or lose her. She still did everything I wanted and I was happy with that."

Amie sat back in her chair, her eyes still on my face. "So what was kinky about her?"

I took a swig of my beer, wondering why I was telling her, wondering if I should. The memories came flooding back to me like a flickering film in my head – things I had never spoken about, things that up to now had been locked in my soul. I looked at Amie, sitting on the edge of her chair half drunk with a hungry expression on her face. It was the same look she had had in the stables, when her face was suffused with lust as her fingers played in her pussy. She loved this, and I suddenly wanted very much to see where it would take us. If Amie wanted the juicy details, I would give them to her.

I shrugged. "Not much, at first, but then she started hinting about inviting others to watch, or to join in. Just little hints at first, testing me out to see if I was interested -"

"And were you?"

"No. I enjoyed what we had. She was great in the sack and I didn't feel the need to change things."

"Is that what you told her?"

"Yes."

Amie shook her head. "It sounds like you really didn't know very much about women, Jack – especially that one. So what did she do to change your mind?"

"I came home one day – it was mid afternoon. The house was quiet and I thought she was out doing one of her visits. I went to put my car keys in the little tray on the hall table - and there was a piece of paper in it, folded in half with my name on it. I remember thinking for a moment that it was a letter to say she'd left me, but when I opened it there was just one word on it. 'Bedroom'." 

"Bedroom?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I thought it might be a little game she was playing so I tip-toed up the stairs and along the hall, shedding my clothes as I went. She'd done this before – enticing me up to the bedroom where she would wait for me, decorated in some way...she liked to see the effect it had on me."




The Watching Game



"Decorated? How – in what way?"

I shrugged. "The first time it was whipped cream and cherries. Sometimes it was flowers – rose petals strewn over the sheets or forget-me-nots strategically placed on her bits. Once she had a bunch of daffodils stuck in her – well, you know...she was the vase."

Amie laughed. "I think she and I would have got on. So what was stuck in her this time?"

I shook my head, pretending to play hard to get. "If you think I'm going to sit in a pub and tell my baby sister about my sex life, think again. It's really none of your damn business."

She laughed again, a brittle sound without humour. "You don't get it, do you? This is the payback, Jack. This is the price for spying on me in the stables, for finding out about one of my little secrets." She reached over and touched my arm, and her voice softened. "Besides, you really want to tell me, don't you? You need to tell me. She rolled you big time and you're still hurting, and there's not been a soul you could talk to. Tell me, Jack. Tell me what you saw on that day." 

I stared at her, struck by her beauty. Those amazing eyes captivated me, drawing me into their luminescent depths, and her cheeks were stained by a touch of colour that betrayed her excitement at the game we were playing. I could see she was aroused: her eyes glittered and she was breathing through her mouth, her lips open and moist and inviting. I wondered what was going through her head. What in the hell made her tick? 

"Alright then – but tit for tat. I'll talk if you do too."

She nodded quickly. "Right. Now – tell me what you found on that day."

"I slipped though the open door into the bedroom, wearing only my Jocks. You couldn't see the bed from the doorway - you had to walk down a little corridor, and I could hear this moaning noise coming from up ahead. I – I thought she was in pain, and I hurried forward and turned the corner into the room – and suddenly, there she was, kneeling on the bed with her face away from me. I could see her ass and her thighs and the secret opening to her body -" 

Amie frowned slightly and shook her head. "Don't be coy, Jack. Use the right word – you could see her cunt." Her mouth curled around the word and she licked her lips, her little pink tongue flickering over the soft pink flesh to leave them as moist and shiny as the object she was describing. She looked at me for a moment. "Was she alone?"

I shook my head. "Oh, no. There was a girl with her. She was lying on her back and Cindy was crouched over her in the soixante-neuf position – 69ers to you. Cindy's bum was towards me and her legs were open as she knelt across the bed, and there was a pair of hands holding her cheeks open so I could see everything. The girl was licking up into her – big, wet strokes of her tongue, pushing right into her pussy and then curving up towards her ass, and with each stroke Cindy wriggled and moaned. 

"So what did you do?"

"I stopped like I'd been pole-axed. It wasn't at all what I was expecting, I can tell you...I must have stood there with my mouth open, feeling like a peeping Tom, wondering if I should go or stay - and then I saw what was happening – I mean, really saw....the girl's hands on my wife's cheeks, prising them open so she could eat her better...the cream on her tongue as it curled into her pussy...my wife bending down to lap at the girl's cunt, her breasts hanging down, swinging – the nipples hard, rubbing against the girl's belly as she moved. I'd seen things like that in blue movies, Amie, but never right in front of me. I could see the sweat on their skin and the ooze of their juices and I could hear them moaning and sighing. I could see the little wet hairs around Cindy's pussy, flattened by the girl's tongue. I could even smell their excitement, right in front of me." 

Amie reached forward and grasped my wrist, her fingers hot on my skin. "So what did you do, Jack?" she whispered, "did you watch for a while, or did you run away?"

I shook my head. "No. Your turn first, Sis". I regarded her for a moment. "Just before we got here you said there were things going on that I didn't know about. What things?"

She shook her head. "I can't tell you that – not yet, anyway. Ask me something else."

"Is it to do with me?"

"Not directly, but your being here could bring it back." I could see her thinking, wondering how much to say. "At least, it could remind everyone of what happened – and that wouldn't help."

"So it's a family issue then."

She smiled. "I'm not going to talk about it Jack. Ask something about me."

I nodded briefly. If things worked out there would be time to explore that mystery later. "You like to watch people doing it, don't you?"

She nodded, her eyes shining.

"So how did it start?"

Amie laughed. "Have you ever wondered why Donna is the black sheep of the family – and why Mum never likes to speak about her?" She watched me nod. "Didn't you guess?"

"No. I was away just about all of the time she was here."

"Well, Jack, not to put too fine a point on it, she liked to fuck – and she wasn't too fussed where and who with."

"Was that something to do with the family secret you won't tell me?" 

"No. Are you done?"

I shook my head. "So you used to watch her – Donna."

"Yep. Don't get me wrong, though – she didn't know I was there. It wasn't like she put on a show or anything."

"How old were you when that started?"

Amie thought for a moment. "About fourteen, I guess. I was up in my room on night. Mum was out and Donna must have figured I wasn't in either. Anyway, I heard a funny noise downstairs and I went down to see what it was. She was on the lounge floor with one of the local village boys, going at it hammer and tongs." 

"That must have been quite a shock."

She laughed. "Not really. I'd been raised on a farm, don't forget, so I knew all about the birds and the bees. I used to watch the animals mating and it always gave me a warm feeling where it counts." She looked at me sideways. "I still do, as you know. But it was the first time I'd seen people doing it."

"So you took it up as a hobby."

Amie shrugged. "I guess. Every Saturday Donna would come to this bar and pick up, and I'd be waiting outside. Sometimes I'd get lucky and they'd do it in the bushes across the road, or in the bus shelter – or if Mum was out they'd go to the house. That was always best, because I could see more." She paused for a moment. "And I used to watch Mum and Dad, as well... I could always tell when they were going to do it because Dad would go to bed early." 

I regarded her with surprise. "How the hell did you do that, Amie? I'm sure that she didn't do it in the bushes."

She looked at me slyly. "I found a way. You wouldn't think she was good in bed, would you?"

"I'd not given it much thought, really."

"She was, though. She'd fuck like a train...I'd get exhausted just watching her." She lapsed into silence and I could see her remembering.

"Do you only ever watch, or do you ever take it further?"

"You mean join in with Mum and Dad?"

"No, I mean with anyone. Weren't you ever tempted to join in – you must have got aroused."

Amie nodded. "Aroused - hell, yes!" She thought for a moment. "But I never felt I wanted to join in. It's difficult, in a small village...there's not much opportunity, and everyone knows everyone else's business. Anyway, there's no one that I fancied...the local boys have about as much finesse as a brass doorknob." 

"So you've tried a few of them?"

She looked into my face and I could see her deciding whether to tell me or not. "I played around, Jack," she said at last. "Who hasn't? But not in a threesome. I tried with one or two of the locals, but they were like Neanderthals...you know, the wham bam syndrome. All they wanted was to stick their dicks in me, without any of the build up I needed. It just didn't seem to measure up to what I saw when I was watching, you know?" She laughed softly. I didn't like their attitude, so I wouldn't let them and pretty soon I got a reputation as a frigid bitch. They didn't even bother to try after that...not that I minded. It took the pressure of me."

So - my sister was a frustrated voyeur, longing for the right people to join in with – and a virgin to boot, if I understood her correctly. 

"Would you do it? I asked her softly. "If you found the right person?" 

She smiled. "That would be telling, wouldn't it." She picked up her drink and twirled it in her fingers, watching the pale gold liquid moving inside. "Your turn now. Tell me what happened in the bedroom that day."

"Well – I watched, for a while, getting hornier than a stoat. After a few minutes Cindy saw me and she didn't miss a beat...just smiled and sat up a little. Her pussy was pushed against the girl's face and she swiveled her hips to grind it over her mouth. I moved around to face her – I could see the girl's body lying between Cindy's legs – her tits pressing against her thighs and her nipples like champagne corks. She had a lovely figure, I remember, and her skin was much darker than Cindy's. She had her legs apart so I could see her pussy – it was open where Cindy's tongue had been at it, and it was wet. She had a bush of dark hair there and the silver threads of her juice were smeared over it – soaking, sopping wet – and there was liquid coming out of her too, oozing out of her pussy and trickling down her ass. I could see it smeared over the insides of her legs, and Cindy's face was wet where she had been eating."

Amie grasped my arm again, leaning forward over the table with her face close to mine. I could feel the warmth of her breath against my cheek. Her voice was low, charged with excitement. "Did you fuck her?" she whispered. 

I leaned closer, feeling the touch of my sister's hair against my face and the heat of her excitement radiating like a furnace. I wondered again how far I could go, whether she would be receptive or disgusted. There was only one way to find out. 

"Oh, yes, Amie," I said. "But not right away. There were other things to do first." 

I put my hand on her neck and pulled her closer to me, my fingers brushing the soft white skin behind her ear. She made no effort to pull away and I could feel the soft whisper of her breath on my cheek and the warmth of her flesh touching me. Her sexual energy crackled like static under my fingertips and I could smell the musk of her arousal wafting up from under the table, thick and palpable, mixed with the crisp aroma of her hair and the subtle fragrance of her perfume. 

The touch of her skin and awareness of her arousal seized my senses, tilting them sharply - and in that second our relationship shifted. The energy in her body altered somehow and in a moment of perception I understood that she felt it too - the boundaries of brother and sister had been swept away. Perhaps it was the language we had been using, or perhaps it was because we'd never really had time to consider ourselves siblings: whatever it was, the shackles had suddenly been cast off and I knew that if I played the game right she would take me to places I had not even dreamed about. 

My voice thickened with lust and I pressed closer, ratcheting the game up another notch. "You should have been there, Amie," I whispered. "The three of us...there on the bed. Can you imagine it? The firm hot flesh and oozing juices – the moans and sighs of pleasure and then the fucking? So much fucking. So many holes to fill, Amie, stretched open by fingers and dildos and my cock: rubbing, rubbing, sliding in and out, switching and changing until we didn't know who was doing who." I pressed my lips against her ear. "You could have reached out and touched us, Amie, scooped up the juices and tasted them thick on your lips. Would you have liked that, Amie? Would you have joined in and been fucked as well?"

Her face was pressed against mine cheek to cheek, her lips close to my ear, and she growled softly in her throat. "God, yes," she whispered. "I could have watched...touched. " She pressed against me a little harder, and I felt her tongue flicker briefly over the lobe of my ear. "Tell me more, Jack," she whispered. "Tell me how you fucked them."

"I ate the girl first. I didn't know her name or where she was from or what she did, but I found out what she tasted like. The cream was oozing out of her like a little river and I lapped at it, scooping it up on my tongue and savored it. She must have thought it was still Cindy because she was mumbling her name but then Cindy got off her and she twigged it was someone else. She looked down at me and smiled and I felt her fingers in my hair, guiding me, holding me against her." I paused for a moment, remembering, the images like a collage of erotic snapshots flickering through my brain: the two women kneeling side by side, holding their cheeks open to give me access; my cock at the mouth of her pussy, and then the incredible heat as I slid into it, and the cream gathering around the lips of her cunt as I fucked her. 

"I took the girl first," I said. She was about your age, Amie, and she was as tight as a nun's nasty. She was kneeling on the bed with her legs apart and her pussy was thrust back, begging to be fucked. Can you picture it? Her lips wet and open and my cock as hard as an iron bar?" I suddenly remembered the expression on Amie's face as she watched the stallion's thick black cock punch into the mare's sex, and I changed my whispered words to enhance that image. "You could have stood close and watched the head of my prick punch into her, Amie, forcing aside the lips of her cunt and driving up into her body. You could have watched me fucking her – the wet suck of her flesh as I worked my shaft into her." I moved my fingers from her neck, sliding down over the satin gloss of her skin to her cheek, pressing her face against mine. "Tell me you would have liked that, Amie."

Her voice was a low growl. "Oh, yes – oh, God yes!"

"Tell me you would have joined in – kneeling on the bed with the others, feeling that thick cock punching into you."

She squirmed on the seat and a low moan escaped from her lips. "Yes! Fucking all night long."

"A woman's tongue on your clit and your brother's cock inside you." 

"Oh, yes!" A tremor passed through her almost as if she had come, and I wondered if she was masturbating, her fingers busy in the folds of her vulva. I thought she might explore the idea of sex with me, but when she spoke again it was still about the story. "Did you fuck them both, Jack?" she whispered. 

"Yes, yes. Both of them, stretched out on the bed, switching from one to another, comparing their tightness and how they moved underneath me. I told them I couldn't decide which one to spurt into, and that it was up to them to suck my seed out. A contest – who could make me cum inside her -"

She groaned, a low sound in my ear filled with lust and longing. "Christ, Jack. I need to cum too." 

"Not here, Amie", I whispered. "Come home and I'll tell you about it. In exquisite detail."

She pulled away and looked at me, reading what was in my eyes. Her face was flushed and her eyes were very bright. "Tell me here."

I shook my head. "They're watching us, Amie. You don't want to be run out of town like the other girl, do you?"

She shook her head. "Why should they? I haven't fucked my brother." 

Yet,  I thought. But you probably will before the night is out.  I reached over and gently pulled her up. "She might think you have, Amie. Come on. We can talk better at home."

It was cool outside and we walked back through the woods in silence, nurturing the sexual tension like a fragile flame that neither of us wanted to extinguish. The glow of the torch created a little pool of intimacy in the darkness and she held my arm tightly. We both knew we had crossed an invisible threshold and all we had to do to experience something momentous was to let it happen. For the first time in years I could feel a tightness in my belly and the warm glow of anticipation you feel when you have a chance of fucking somebody new. The smell of her arousal filled my head and the vision of her underneath me, arching her back as I sank into her liquid heat, left room for nothing else. I needed to possess her, to plunge into her hot, compliant body, and the fact that she was my sister made it all the more delicious. 

The house was in darkness when we entered it, and I went to turn on the light but she stopped me. "No, Jack. Come and sit by the fire and talk." She slipped off her coat and scarf and hung them on the hook by the door, and she moved to the drinks cabinet and poured two whiskeys - holding one out to me with slender fingers, acknowledging my lingering touch with a smile. She proffered her glass and we touched them. "Cheers." 

"Won't we disturb Mum?"

She shook her head. "We could get the 12-bores out and shoot the place up and she wouldn't hear it." She sipped her drink. "I used to wait until she and Dad were asleep and then creep out of the wardrobe in their room and they never woke up." 

"Wasn't that risky?"

She shrugged. "Not as much as when I used to watch Donna." She laughed softly. "This sofa could tell you a few stories about what she got up to."

"And I bet you could, too."

"I guess." She looked around the room. "I'd wait until she was fully occupied and then I'd creep around the back of the room, along there – she gestured with her glass. "Her routine was always the same - she'd start with a session of necking, when I could move around without too much difficulty." She laughed again. "She always kissed with her eyes shut so I could move around, if I was careful. I'd wedge myself in the little alcove there – before Mum put the bookcase in it there was a curtain. I'd watch whilst she got get naked and do the routine. She liked to do it by firelight, or candlelight in the warmer weather, but there was always enough light to see."

"And what did you see, Amie?"

"Everything. She'd fuck the same guy for a few weeks until she was tired of him and then bring in a new one. She learned a lot, and quickly, and she'd practice all of her tricks on the next one." She giggled. "They must have thought their dreams had all come true."

"And which of her tricks did you like the best?"

She stared into her drink for a moment, swirling the glass so the firelight flared in the pale amber fluid, and then she downed it and held out her glass for another. I filled it and she looked into my eyes as she spoke, her voice tight with excitement. "I liked it when she could see herself being penetrated, Jack. She'd hold herself open so she could watch the long, slow slide of his prick into her body. She loved the sight of her pussy being stretched open, and the gleam of their juices glistening on his cock. She'd talk about it, how much she loved seeing it, egging him on. I used to watch her as she watched herself, and I'd put my fingers in my pants and ease my fingers in, and I would wonder if we were experiencing the same thing or whether she had a different sensation."

"Of course she did. Fingers are great but there's nothing like the real thing. Surely you must know that from your own experience."

"I don't know, Jack. My experiences weren't great...sweaty little gropes in back of a car or in the bushes. Like as not the guy would cum before I was even excited, on the upholstery or across my clothes. After a while I began to believe that I could never do it like Donna or Jim – or even Mum. They loved it. So I'd just watch them, and get my rocks off that way." She took another mouthful of her drink. "And that's OK too – well, it was when they were here. Now, I don't have anyone to watch." She turned away and put her glass on the cabinet and then she looked at me and she laughed self-consciously. "Christ, Jack, this is turning into a confession. Is that what you had in mind? The secret diary of a virgin sister?"




The Watching Game



I stared at her, seeing the firelight catching the glints of gold and red in her hair. Her skin was painted bronze in its light and her mouth was slightly open, the lips soft and wet and her teeth were white behind them. Despite her sharp tongue and abrupt manner I suddenly realised how lonely she was, and how desperate for someone to be close to. She was staring at me, almost pleading for understanding, and I leaned forward slowly. I expected her to pull back but she did not, and a moment later I pressed my lips on hers. 

For a moment she did nothing and then her arms came up and held me, and she opened her mouth. I could taste the liquor on her breath and my mind registered how soft her lips were, and the crisp smell of her hair and the aroma of her skin. Her body was pressed against me, long and lean, and she moved one hand and traced her fingers lightly down one side of my face, her nails rasping lightly against my unshaven skin. My cock reared up, tight against my jeans and I felt her hips move forward to press against it. 

After a few moments she broke free from my kiss long enough to talk. "So what do you have in mind, Jack?" she whispered.

I nuzzled her neck, feeling her arch her back and hearing her groan softly. Her breasts pressed against me, soft and warm, and I could feel the nipples like hard little nubs against my chest. My heart was hammering in my chest, beating like a tattoo... she was so delicious – folded in my arms like liquid fire with her breath on my cheek and her body pressed against me. I wondered if she realised how hard I was and how much I wanted her, and I wondered how far she would go.

I traced my tongue over the smooth buttery skin below her ear, delighting in the warm puppy smell of her. "I could tell you more about my story," I murmured, "or I could show you, Amie, if you wanted." I paused for a second, praying that I hadn't read the signs wrong. She didn't say a word and I pressed on, my voice as soft as the whisper of silk. "You don't need to spy on anyone else, Amie...you can watch us in the mirror – you and me, together, doing all the things you love to see." 

She said nothing for a moment but her fingers moved over my chest, sliding over the material to my neck. I could feel their heat on my skin and I fancied I could feel her energy, like the crackle of static electricity between us. She growled softly, almost like a low moan, and her voice was soft in my ear. "So you want to fuck me, Jack." A statement, not a question. 

My cock grew even harder at her words, straining against my jeans. 

"In your bed, Jack. Fucking your little sister all night long...so bad." Her voice was charged with excitement, and it swept away the last of my doubts. I realised that she wanted it as much as me, and we had the rest of the night to play the game. My heart was beating like a jackhammer at the thought of taking her. She probably thought she was wise in the way of fucking, that watching others had taught her all she needed to know: but she had never experienced that shattering, exquisite moment of being penetrated for the first time and it was me who would take her on that journey. I had a sudden image of her naked underneath me, her legs wide open and her face contorted as I took her virginity. God, I wanted her – she was so beautiful.

"Will you teach me, Jack? Stay with me all night and cum into me where I want?" Little whispered words, falling from her lips and painting pictures of what she wanted. 

"Yes. Do you want me to cum into you?"

"Not inside me – I'm not...safe. And I want to be able to see it spurting."

"You will, Amie – pumping thick and hot, spraying over your skin, into your mouth."

She groaned again, a low animal sound and she ground her hips against me, the heat of her body against mine. "All night long, Jack. Do what you want to me."

I took her hand and led her up the stairs, the hallway light casting our shadows on the walls - juxtaposed one on the other in a delicious parody of what we were about to do. I could feel her hand in mine, sweaty with anticipation, and I realised that my mouth was dry with excitement. Taking little Amie up to my room to fuck her. How had it come to this? 

The room was in darkness and she released my hand and turned on the light beside the bed, regarding herself in the full-length mirrors on the wardrobe doors for a few seconds. In one fluid movement she reached up and undid the clasp of her dress and let it fall, the material slipping off her arms and sliding off her hips to pool at her feet. She was naked underneath it except for a tiny pair of blue silk panties, held by laces either side of her hips, and I could see the material was stained at the front – almost translucent from the juices she had released. Her breasts were full and round and a light creamy colour, capped by thick, dark nipples already swollen with desire. No wonder I had been able to smell her excitement in the pub – there had been so little to keep it in. 

She kicked off her shoes and undid the slim gold watch, putting it on the bedside table, and then she turned back to the mirror and looked at my reflection, her eyes on my face. "How do you want me, Jack?"

I wanted her every way and I stripped quickly, tearing off the shirt and unzipping my jeans, shucking them off and then standing for a moment to look at her – the curve of her waist and the tight, round cupcakes of her buttocks. She was holding one leg slightly in advance of the other – a classic nude pose, thrusting one hip forward slightly and in the mirror I could see a few wisps of golden hair escaping from the elastic of her panties. She was watching me, her eyes still and steady, but I could see her excitement in the flush of colour in her cheeks. 

"Stay there, Amie." I slid my jocks over my hips and pulled them down and my cock leaped free. Her eyes moved to it, seeing the thick purple glans and the swollen shaft, bobbing as I moved towards her. 

I stood behind her and put my arms around her waist. My shaft was wedged in the crack between her buttocks and I moved my hands to her breasts. "Look in the mirror," I whispered. 

She watched as I lifted them, my hands much darker than the pale creamy flesh they caressed. They were surprisingly large, each filling my hand and their weight and plasticity caused a spurt of moisture to leak from my cock, dribbling between us. She leaned her head against my shoulder and she watched as I massaged them, my fingers teasing her nipples, pinching them lightly so they thickened even more and turned a darker hue as the blood coursed through them. My rod was jammed between us, wedged in the warm and delicious crack between her ass cheeks, and she felt the heat of my breath as I leaned down to kiss her neck. 

"You are so beautiful," I whispered between the kisses. The golden cloud of her hair was tickling my face, shutting out her reflection but my senses were filled by the scent of her desire and the taste of her skin. I felt her moving against me, pushing her hips back against my shaft, rotating them slightly so my cock moved against her, the tip sliding over the wetness I had dribbled there. She put her hands over mine, holding them against her tits, pressing them down so the globes of flesh were compressed under my palms. So hot, so hot. 

"Look at us, Jack," she said. 

I looked in the mirror and saw what she saw – a young girl with a body as smooth as alabaster, the flowing curves of her hips and the long, delicious spread of her legs. Her head was back, leaning against the figure behind her and her hair was in disarray. A figure stood behind her, almost hidden, and his hands grasped her breasts with the nipples peeping from between his fingers. Her legs were apart and the front of her pants was wet with excitement, the thin material shining with her juices. She moved her torso slightly, thrusting lightly back and forth and she had an expression of rapture on her face as she gazed into the mirror.

I reached down and adjusted my prick, sliding it horizontally between her legs. I could feel the damp folds of her panty gusset touching me and I began to thrust lightly. In the mirror the purple head of my cock appeared and disappeared between the top of her thighs as it rubbed against her. I could see her eyes on it, hooded with excitement as she watched, and I could hear the panting of her breath as she became more aroused. She reached down and pulled aside under the slick wet material of her knickers, grunting with satisfaction at the visual image presented. 

"Jesus, Jack!" she whispered. "Look at that...look at the cream."

Both of us were making juices and it gleamed in the soft light. A string of it dribbled from the eye of my cock, a single strand that oozed down until it dripped on one golden thigh. Her juice was gathered at the lips of her cunt like cream in an éclair and the movement of my cock caused it to ooze onto my swollen flesh, painting the shaft in silver. 

I released her breasts and held her waist. Both of us were thrusting now, our hips moving in sequence and my rod rubbed back and forth against her thighs and we could hear the soft slurping of wet flesh as we churned her juices to a froth. 

"Is this what Donna used to do?" I asked. 

Amie shook her head. "She liked it inside her...but it looks good, doesn't it." She regarded the image for a few moments, her eyes fastened on the head of my cock as it appeared and disappeared between her legs. "It reminds me of a site on the net where a girl put little cameras in her pussy and then fucks," she whispered. "You can see the man's cock, pushing back and forth inside her and the walls of her cunt gripping it, oozing moisture...and then he cums and you can see the jets of spunk filling her up." She gripped her thighs together, gripping me more tightly as I thrust back and forth. "Do you want to cum into me, Jack?"

The friction between her thighs was delicious, gripping me as I moved back and forth. "God yes," I groaned. "I haven't cum into a woman in months."

She giggled. "You must have heaps inside you then. How much can you cum, Jack?"

"Enough to fill you right up."

"All of me?"

"Every orifice, Amie. We should do it, then watch it dribble out."

She hissed softly – a slight indrawing of breath as she pictured the image: my cream leaking out of her holes – dribbling thick and white against her skin. I gripped her hips and thrust harder at the thought of what it would be like to spurt inside her delicious golden body, and to see it seeping out again. I remembered she wasn't on the pill. Not in her pussy, then, which left her mouth or her ass -"

She must have been thinking the same. "Fuck my mouth, Jack."

She knelt on the floor and looked up at me, her eyes hungry as I placed my cock at her lips, rubbing the slippery head against the soft pink flesh, the head thick and dark against her skin. In the mirror we could see the silver smears of lubrication around her mouth as I sought entry. I pressed harder and the head suddenly popped into her mouth and her teeth scraped lightly over my skin before the soft clamp of her lips engulfed me. I groaned with the sensation and she opened her mouth and drew back, watching the long strands of spit and cum juice stringing between us. 

Her eyes flickered to my face. "Tell me what to do, Jack," she said. "Teach me how to give good head."

And so I taught her, my little sister kneeling at my feet with her hands on my thighs and my cock in her mouth. I showed her how to turn her head to vary the angle and how to adjust the tightness of her lips to draw out the pleasure. She watched herself in the mirror, her mouth full and her throat moving as she tried to take me deeper and she moved her tongue to curl over the sensitive skin of my glans as it slid, slippery smooth, against the inside of her cheeks. My hands were in her hair, guiding her, holding her as I worked my cock ever deeper, until her lips were pressed hard against my belly as the full length skewered into her throat. So delicious, the head of my cock jammed in her windpipe, so tight. I held it there for a moment until she grunted and pushed me back, my cock bobbing free and spit and pre-cum drooling from her mouth as she caught her breath. 

Deep in my balls I could feel the tingling of my first cum, triggered by the softness of her lips and her complicity, and I plunged back into her mouth, thrusting my hips back and forth and holding her head as I fucked her. Her breasts were bobbing with the force of my thrusts, the nipples swollen with pleasure. She was grunting, egging me on, her hands clasping my thighs and her mouth working at me, sucking me in, her tongue wriggling in her mouth to curl under the exquisitely tender flesh of my frenulum – lapping, lapping, lapping at her brother's cock, taking me deep into her throat, moving her hand to press a fingertip through the tight ring of my anus and into my body. 

In that instant the dam burst in a sudden rush of hot, grainy light and I felt the scalding heat of my cum racing along my shaft. I seized my cock and pulled free of her mouth, holding it at her lips as she watched herself in the mirror. Her mouth was open and her eyes were bright with lust as I spurted. My rod jerked seven or eight times and with each jerk a long jet of burning jism splattered over her face, filling her eyes with pools of whiteness and spraying over her nose and cheeks. It trickled into her mouth in shiny white rivulets, dulling the shiny whiteness of her teeth and coating her tongue, and it hung in globules in her hair and in long slippery ropes from her chin. 

And gradually the storm subsided and at last I stood back, my cock softening slightly. She regarded her image in the mirror and she laughed. My sperm was thick on her face and she touched with her fingers, watching as it dribbled onto her tongue and pooled around her teeth. "Jesus, Jack," she murmured. "There's gallons of it. And I never thought it would taste this strong."

I reached down and pulled her to her feet. "Now your turn." 

She was subservient under my hands and I arranged her so she was kneeling on the bed over my body, the satin skin of her thighs either side of my head and her pussy above my face. I could not see the mirror, but I reckoned I had the better view: the shadow of her crotch a few inches above my face with the wrinkled gusset of her little blue panties wedged tightly in her crack. She pulled the soaking material aside and looked over her shoulder at the reflection and moaned softly as I ate her: watching my tongue teasing the lips of her pussy, flickering around the edges and then dipping into her body. She tasted incredible, and her juices dribbled from her cunt and ran over my face and into my mouth and I drank her. 

"You taste good, Amie." My voice sticky, her juices filling my mouth. 

She was gasping with pleasure. "Mmmm. Lick more...down a bit. There. There!" Directing me, moving her body over my face to put my tongue into her most sensitive spot. The tip darting into her, flickering against her clit and scooping cream into my mouth. Her voice gusty with pleasure. "Ah, Ah...just there, Jack. Lick it, lick it."

My cock was rock hard again, desperate to be inside her. I pushed her off, my hands on the firm round cheeks of her ass and I slithered around the bed to lie on my back with my feet towards the mirror. She knelt beside me waiting to be told what to do, her eyes filled with lust. I wondered if she realised this was the last few seconds of her virginity. 

"Face the mirror and lower yourself on me," I instructed her, "you'll see it, Amie. My shaft going into you -"

She squatted over me and held my cock with her slender fingers, engaging it against the tight wet entrance to her body before releasing it. My cock-head was wedged in her vulva, the swollen lips of her labia holding it there with just the tip inside her. She regarded herself in the mirror: her breasts full and firm with the nipples thick with desire; her body crouching, legs bent. The curve of her hips and the slight bulge of her belly and the shaft poised beneath her, ready to spear up through her pelvic girdle into her centre. 

And as we both watched she lowered herself onto me. The head of my clock slid into her, disappearing smoothly before it encountered her obstruction. She pressed down harder, her body straining as I sought to enter more deeply, and she moaned.

"Jesus, that's tight...so fucking tight. Break into me, Jack. Ah, ah!"

I held her waist to steady her and I watched as my rod struggled to enter. For a moment it seemed that it would not, but then the membrane inside her suddenly ruptured and I slid into her fully. She let out a little cry of pain and her hands grasped my thighs. "Fuck! Christ, that hurt!....Wait, wait. Let me adjust." She was gasping, her fingers digging into my skin and she eased herself up a little so I was only half buried inside her. I could see her panting, her face distorted with pain and pleasure. 

For a few moments we were still. It was a sight I'll never forget, I can tell you – my little sister crouched over me, impaled on my cock with her thighs straining and her hands gripping my legs and virgin blood oozing from her cunt and trickling down my shaft. And then she began to move...tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as her pain was replaced with pleasure. Little strokes with her tits jiggling as she moved, my shaft half in her and her pussy gripping it as hard as a woodworking vice, and then longer strokes with my cock sliding deep into her slender body whilst she grunted and moaned above me. She was so tight – gripping the entire length of my rod from the tip to the base: a sort of rippling motion as she wriggled on me. Sometimes she leaned back to better watch as we fucked, and other times she crouched forward and I could see the firm globes of her ass rotating on me, and the tight ring of her vulva stretched around my shaft. 

My hands were on her waist, the firm flesh moving under them as she pumped me, her eyes in the mirror liquid with lust as she watched her brother's cock entering and leaving her body. There was no pain now – only pleasure: waves of it, like the breakers in an ocean rolling for a thousand miles across the windswept wastes, rolling towards the shore. She knew I would cum in her and she accepted it and she worked her cunt on me, sucking me in and rippling along my length, my balls soaked in her juices and the sheets stained. 

I could see her eyes fixed on mine, willing me to fill her and I could see she was holding her own climax to ride alongside mine. "Cum for me, Jack," she whispered. "Fill me up. Let me feel how it is."

"I will, baby," I told her. 

From a distant place I could feel the wave take me, lifting me upwards to rush forward, the power building, building, the crest curling as it raced towards the shore. My heart was hammering so fast I could hardly breathe and I heard her calling to me as she raced beside me, both of us caught in its power. Climbing, climbing, the excitement building like a tsunami, spinning us upwards to the very pinnacle of pleasure and holding us there, our bodies thrumming together...balanced on the edge of the universe in the half darkness shot through with bright sparklets of light – holding, holding, quivering on the edge: and then in a single blinding moment of indescribable ecstasy the wave broke and I spurted massively in a maelstrom of white, churning power. Exploding inside her – scalding jets of sperm bursting into her virgin pussy, spraying over her cervix and splattering in the tight, undulating tube of her grasping cunt. I heard her shrieks as she came with me, her pussy gripping me tightly as it milked me with hard, tight contractions to vacuum my seed deep into her golden body. 




The Watching Game



And then, after a million years, the storm subsided. My cock twitched inside her, dribbling the last vestiges of my sperm and she slowed her gyrations and we became still. I could feel her cunt trembling around me and she was moaning softly in wonder, her hands gripping my legs and her eyes glazed with pleasure.

And after a while she lifted herself up and my cock slipped free. She regarded herself in the mirror, eyeing her pussy to see if my cream was oozing out, but it was too far inside her body. And so she lay next to me with her face close to mine, the strands of her hair tickling my cheek and she pressed her mouth to mine for little kisses, like hot honey drizzled on my lips. I smoothed back the damp hair from her forehead and looked into her eyes that were soft with love.

"God, Jack." Her voice was gusty and tremulous. "Christ! I never knew...I didn't -"

My fingers touched her skin, sliding over her shoulder and upper arm, feeling the goose-bumps on her smooth flesh and her love juices drying on my skin. 

"I've wasted so much time," she whispered. "If I had known it was that good -"

I held her close. "We have time, Amie. You and me. This is just the start."

Her fingers brushed my lips as softly as a sleeping breath. "Oh, I know, Jack," she whispered, "and we're going to make use of every second of it."

****

(c) Copyright Hot Sister. Not to be reproduced in whole or in part without the express permission of the author.