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True (Forbidden) Love

By: BenevolentDCC



All persons in this story are fictional and 18 or older. Any resemblance to real life parties is coincidental. This story contains elements of foot fetish, squirting, incest, and romance. It is slow to begin but I truly hope you enjoy reading it. I put a lot of time into this so please leave a comment.

You never really know what it is that is responsible for your desires. You cannot find the sculpting factor that determines whether you prefer small breasts or large ones, whether you have a fetish or particular fantasy, or even, if you like petite women or curvier ones. For reasons unknown to the wisest of all, there are certain things men and women find attractive about one another, this is the story of a young man who is awakening to the fact that there is a world of pleasures he has as of yet, been unaware.

It starts with, as most life changing events do, a girl. Really, at this point in her life, she has finished the delicate transitions which have widened her hips, elongated her legs, and left her with all the captivating power of a goddess. She was never crass, always dressing conservatively enough to preserve the "innocent" look with just enough skin to stimulate the imagination. 

A few days out of her 18th birthday but she was still oblivious to the effect she had on the men, and yes a few women, who she happened to walk by, or heaven forbid, smile at and wave. Her hair fell in heavy red tresses that framed her face and amplified the sea green with flecks of blue which colored her eyes. Oh, her eyes...of all the features of this goddess, this angelic apparition, this muse of divine proportions, of all of her features, her eyes were the most captivating. Seemingly larger than the eyes of the normal girl, but in an attractive otherworldly fashion, her eyes had left many a hopeful young man, and again women too, speechless. 

It wasn't only the nature of her eyes but also the hopeful completely engaged manner with which she focused them. To her, there was no such thing as a pointless conversation. She maintained eye-contact, her smile never wavering, completely wrapped up in whatever the other person may be saying, she gave the vibe that she was hanging on your ever word, that your story was her life or her death, her pain or her ecstasy. Her laugh, nothing more infectious, a giggle to full-blown laugh which melted the heart. 

She was truly a goddess. From her head, her high B cup breasts, flat stomach, to her toned legs, and perfectly manicured feet she was a dream to most.

To Jericho, her brother, she was the world. He would honestly do anything for his sister without hesitation or thought of his own safety. Jericho carried within himself a burden. Being raised in a religious household, and being of strong faith in his own right, Jericho found himself wanting to worship only one being in existence. His heart, his soul yearned to bow before his sister and confess his love. 

He knew that it could never be and as such he dedicated himself to her in the only manner he thought she could accept; her big, strong, guardian of a brother. All too often Jericho had fallen prey to those captivating eyes. He, unlike others, was not stricken silent by those eyes but he had vowed to himself that as much as was humanly possible, he would be responsible for the twinkle of joy reflecting in her twinkling eyes. To date, he had performed to an exceptional degree. 

The problem which Jericho had seen coming, the problem he had tried to avoid for as long as possible was now staring him right in the eyes. He knew what he wanted to do, he knew how she would react if he did it, and therefore when the doorbell rand, and the high-school quarter-back asked if Samantha was home, Jericho swallowed the urge to kick his ass and instead allowed him into the house.

"Howzit going, my man?"

Try to be civil. "It. Goes." Jericho clenched his teeth.

"My name is Mark." The jock held out his hand. Jericho did not shake. "Uh, alright then." Mark said.

"My sister should be down in just a few minutes, before she comes down, I want you to be aware of something." Jericho began.

"Alright, shoot." Mark said.

"My sister is a wonderful woman, she is beautiful and pure. If you try anything she doesn't like. I will find you." Jericho threatened.

"Look man, I know how it is to want to protect your sister but let me tell you that she will enjoy everything I do. Furthermore, even if you found me you couldn't do anything to me with that puny-ass body of yours. Have you ever even seen weights?" 

Jericho felt his body coil, ready to spring into action. It was true that he was, in appearance, tiny. What others didn't know about him, except for those in special circles, was that Jericho only looked tiny. Just as the anger was beginning to color his field of vision, he could feel her enter. The atmosphere swirled around her, seemed to lift with her, as if the breeze only moved so that it could brush against her skin, tickle her neck, or swirl in her hair. Jericho did not blame these mischievous winds, if he could, he would join them in their celebration of her. He understood, just as the wind must, that the world turned for her. The jealous constellations, even the moon and the stars (Sun included) could not decide whom should get to shine upon her for all of eternity and therefore the Earth spins so that they may all dote upon her.

She descended the stairs, heels in hand, her bare feet gliding over the carpeted landing. She stilled the breath in his lungs. Jericho wished only to capture the perfection of her in his mind. Barefoot, fully clad, it did not matter. Every fabric that touched her skin seemed fashioned specifically for her. His eyes followed her as she took Mark's hand and stepped from the house, her dress swishing delicately behind her. 

His heart fell for one moment. Then the door was thrown open and there she was again. 

"Almost forgot the most important thing." she said.

"Wha..." he started but her lips on his cheek silenced him. One kiss and he knew he would always be hers and hers alone. Just as quickly as the kiss, she was bouncing from the house once more. 

Samantha stepped outside and immediately wished she had worn some leggings, or maybe just stayed home all-together. She had been in the mindset that something in her life would change at some point. Something had to give. She woke up every day and painted a smile on her face but it seemed more and more that the only person who seemed to make her truly happy were the members of her family. Her mother was her best friend, her father was her inspiration, and her brother...well, he was a complicated issue for her. 

She shook her head trying to get the image of him out of her mind. More and more he was the standard by which she judged the guys who wanted to date her. Not surprisingly, none of them matched up. When Mark had asked her out, she had contemplated saying no out of hopelessness but had decided that an evening away from home might actually help her get Jericho off her mind. That plan, so far, was an epic failure.

Other than his work out schedule and the football plays he planned to run, or had run, she hadn't really been paying attention, Mark was a dull and uninteresting specimen of human life. Not only did he fail to keep her attention, he also failed to keep Jericho from returning to her mind. She found herself thinking of the kiss she had given him as she left the house, how she had meant to run back in, throw herself into his arms, and kiss him full on the lips. She had chickened out at the last minute and because of that she felt that she had left a part of herself behind; with him. 

She often felt this way and though she did not admit it to herself, not even to her diary in which she confessed almost everything, she knew that she loved him far more than a sister should love a brother. She knew that what she wanted, the life that she dreamed of when she looked into his eyes, was something that she should not want, something which should disgust her. For far too long her brother had been the man of her dreams, she had tried dating and to no avail. She had even tried kissing a few times but no matter the lips she tasted, she dreamed of his. The feelings she got from the kisses were mere shadows of the tingling shock she received just from kissing his cheek, or feeling his rock-hard abs beneath his shirt. 

She unconsciously bit her lip and the pain brought her back to reality just in time to hear the details of another mind numbing anecdote about "taking a knee to save the game." This was going to be a long night.

This was going to be a long night. A long, long, loooooonnnnnnngggggg night. Jericho had spent the first century (15 minutes to be exact) pacing the room allowing his emotions to run free. First he felt anger, anger at himself for not taking her in his arms, then happiness returned as he thought of her lips on his cheek, then desire as he thought of those plump, delicate, blood-flushed lips on other, more private parts of his body. By the time 20 minutes had passed, Jericho felt as if he would lose his sanity, grow old, and die before he saw her face again. Time and time again his feet carried him to the counter where his keys and wallet lay, taunting him. They seemed to say, go get her, go get her, you won't go get her, you aren't man enough, I bet he is getting her he he he he he he .. . .. . .

His next conscious feeling was the ache of sore muscles and the lightning fast punches and kicks he launched into the punching bag in his basement. Sweat was pouring from his body, his muscles flexing and rolling as he dodged an invisible haymaker, only to snap tight as he launched himself into a hard uppercut. Ding Ding Ding, match over. The heavy canvass split in a straight line from his impact to the top of the bag. Sand poured from the destroyed enemy and Jericho fell to the ground, exhausted. 

He could barely lift his hands, and yet, still Samantha danced, bare-foot and care-free through his mind. He consulted the clock on the wall, and found to his amazement that another 40 minutes had passed. He tried to rise, but his muscles refused. His anger resurged at being disobeyed by his own body and he forced them to comply. He rose to his full 6'2" height, his lean muscles belying the power he held, the power he had been trained to release when needed. Breathing heavily, he climbed the stairs to his room where he dropped his sweat soaked clothes and proceeded, naked, to the shower. He started the water running and set the heat to the highest setting. He loved watching the steam flow from the shower as he waited for it to get hot. 

He studied himself in the mirror but he did not see the creature others saw, to him he was merely a guardian for his sister. To others, he was a thing to be worshipped in his own regard. 

He stepped into the water, relishing the way the water burned at his skin while soothing his muscles. He stretched beneath the falling water, touching his toes, craning his neck from side to side, and in the fog of his super-heated shower, she danced in his mind. But now, she danced for him. She danced with him in her eyes, knowing the effect she was having on him, wanting to have that effect, commanding her power over him while moving her body to the sound of their hearts beating. 

The heavy length hanging between his legs began to stir with signs of life. He groaned as the tingle intensified. He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help himself as his fingers began to caress the hardening appendage. He moaned out loud when he closed his hand around his shaft, pretending it was her skin on him. He breathed out, hissing through clenched teeth as the feeling of his hand, combined with the images in his mind, combined to form a heavenly elixir of pleasure. He spent some time, thinking and stroking, but each time his orgasm approached, he denied the release. He wanted to have her as long as he possibly could. He did manage to tear himself away from thinking of her long enough to get showered and dried off. He brushed and flossed his teeth, and then, walking with his towel hanging from his hips, he swaggered into his room. He dropped the towel from his body and laid atop the blankets on his bed. 

Here he lay and once more his mind turned to her. In his writhing thoughts of his true love, he lost himself in the joy he thought, surely, could never be his.

There are some benefits, Samantha thought, to going out on a date with a popular guy; he seemed to have no problem getting alcohol. She was half-way through her third strawberry margarita, deliciously fruity on her tongue, when she felt the urge to go to the bathroom. The pressure building in her kidneys now demanded release and she rose, unsteadily to her feet.

"Escuse me, I think, I think, hehehehehehe, imma go to the, hic, little girl's room." She grabbed up her purse and heels, and found her way to the bathroom. Once inside she allowed herself to walk normally again. The alcohol had not yet hit her as hard as she was letting on but being new to drinking at all she expected to be relatively out of it as the night progressed. This was her chance, she thought, to make a clean escape while she could still think at all. As she dropped her panties and lifted her skirt she hoped with all she had that her brother was not still awake waiting for her. She did not want him to see her like this.

Sitting bare in the tiny room made her feel the tingle she so often got right before she peed. She couldn't explain it, but for some reason, feeling the flow from between her legs left her feeling warm and breathing heavier than normal. This, naturally, turned her thoughts to Jericho but before those thoughts could get out of control she was finished. Wiping herself almost always brought him back to her mind but tonight, maybe because of the alcohol, he was not there. 

She felt kind of bad about what she planned to do but she had already made it this far so turning back wasn't really an option any longer; at least that's what her inebriated mind told her. With one last thought about Mark the boring quarterback, she hauled herself out of the bathroom window, landed solidly on her bare feet in the grass, and flagged down a cab.

Mark was certain that tonight was his night. So many of his friends had tried to date the "Ice" princess before and had gotten nothing for their troubles. Though they made their jokes to preserve their egos, they all knew she wasn't a lesbian, so no one could figure out what her deal was. Mark had watched so many crash and burn and decided it was time that the little virgin be taken from her shell and shown a world where she actually has a purpose. He expected her to come willingly enough, but if he had to use force he would just enjoy it more. He had learned none-too-long ago that despite what his dad said about using power tools, sometimes forcing it was so much better.

He had spent the night, thus far, regaling her with his tales of heroism on the football field and knew that if she had any brains in her head at all, her panties were sticking to her by now. That probably explained her little bathroom visit. Well, that and all the alcohol laced with something special procured from a seedy friend, he had been giving her. He didn't need her to remember what happened, he would prefer if she did, but he would gain satisfaction from her waking up sore and having no memory of what happened the night before. 

He scanned the room. Normally this local hotspot had all sorts of fine women walking around in short skirts and "do-me" tops, but tonight it was surprisingly dead. Could be the release of some new movie or a school function, Mark didn't really care. Since there was nothing else to occupy his mind, his attention turned to his watch. She had been in the bathroom a long time now. He wasn't an idiot, he knew girls had to poop as well, but you'd think if the girl had any manners she would do that on her own time. Oh, well, she would pay for making him wait. She just didn't know it yet.

The cab smelled of old popcorn, stale cigarette smoke, and rancid sweat. Still, it was a better scent to her than the over-powering cologne Mark had been wearing. Drakkar for Douches, she thought it must have been called. Her joke drew a drunken chortle from her throat and the driver looked at her skeptically in his rear-view mirror. Still, he minded his business and took her to the address she had given him. She could feel the world spinning around her and colors swam in a dizzyingly beautiful rainbow before her eyes. She traced the colors with her hands laughing to herself in a goofy manner. 

The driver had seen this behavior before, often in the case of women who were stoned out of their minds. This girl didn't look the type but nowadays you couldn't really tell. He dropped her off at the curb in front of a nice suburban looking ranch house and after counting the money she had given him, pulled off and into the darkness.

Samantha could feel her cares slipping away. Her anxiety, her stress, even the knots in her muscles seemed to melt taking her into a world of care-free bliss. She pulled her keys from her purse, dropped them, picked them up, dropped them again, stomped her feet and then laughed as the world tilted around her. She didn't fall. Stooping to grab her keys once more she managed, with a bit of work and a fair amount of concentration, to get the door open. Once inside, she dropped her keys on the floor (thinking she dropped them on the entryway table) along with her shoes and purse. Barefoot, she climbed the stairs and danced the hallways to her room. She crawled into her bed, softer than it had ever been before, and tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. 

It happened, as it always seems to, that the moment she found a comfortable position, she realized she had to pee. Sighing in mock frustration, she rose from her bed and danced to the bathroom between her room and her brother's.

Being at home brought a level of comfort to her that she never experienced anywhere else. Being drunk and at home made her comfortable and a bit daring. When she entered the shared bathroom, she decided that instead of being the good girl she always was, that she would do something she always wanted to instead. Looking into the mirror, she lifted her dress and tossed it to the floor. She shook her hair until it had, what she thought, was a "bedroom" mussed look. 

She bit her lip seductively and slowly slid her bra to the floor. Her hands cupped her breasts, the nipples responding enthusiastically. She became flush, her blood rushing through her, pounding through her vascular system in a race to reach all the tingling parts of her anatomy. Standing before the mirror, she admired her toned body. Yoga every morning and cardio in the evening had melted the fat from her midsection leaving only toned tight muscle in its place. The panties she had worn, panties she had hoped to tease her brother with one day, were black, and lacey. Practically see through in all the right places. She sat on the toilet with the garment firmly in place. She didn't understand why it appealed to her and she didn't need to, she only needed to know that the idea made her unbelievably hot and that was enough. She released her muscles, allowing the feeling of need to run unabashed through her. 

The first spurt was hot and barely enough to soak the light material of her panties. The second release was much stronger and she could feel the hot liquid splashing against the dark black lace back onto her skin as more and more poured from her. She could feel it dripping from her panties, feel it flowing to the back of the garment around her tight little star before dripping from there as well. The delicious sensations caused her to bite her lip and lightly moan as she gave in to a desire she had held for as long as she could remember. It was over far to soon but the memory remained. 


True (Forbidden) Love Ch. 02



Hot. Sticky. Sweaty. Samantha awoke to the blankets clinging to her skin as she tried to move. Immediately she became aware of the presence beside her on the bed. Her heart hammered within her chest. Who was this in her bed? What had she done the night before.

She slowly moved her arm up the body beside her, feeling the sharp edges of solid muscle in the abs of her bed time partner. She tried to remember the events of the night but nothing came to her beyond the kiss she gave her brother before going on her date with Mark. 

Her eyes should have adjusted to the dark of the room but a pounding ache within her head made focusing difficult. She closed her eyes and used her other senses to paint a picture of her guest. His body was lean but formed of hard, chiseled muscle. His neck was cleanly shaved but his chin was covered with short coarse hair which extended along his jawline in either direction. Mark didn't have facial hair. She began to smile at the picture forming in her mind. The only guy she was close to who had facial hair was her brother. She leaned in close and breathed him in, smelling the familiar scent of Zest body soap, sandalwood shampoo, and his sweat.

She stretched, reveling in the best night's sleep she had experienced in a while. As her back popped and the tension left her body, she realized from the feel of the sheets on her skin, that she was naked. Her heart fluttered within her chest and butterflies filled her stomach. She could not remember what had happened which had lead to this glorious moment, but she thanked God for this gift.

She watched him sleep. The even fall and rise of his chest making her sigh contentedly. She slipped from the bed, not knowing what to think of the situation she had found herself in, but the feel of something cool on her skin caught her attention. She touched the slick pool on her skin and realized with a tingle what she had found. She didn't know if it meant they had done anything but she could not shake the feeling that her brother's cum was on her skin. Shivering with excitement, she massaged the fluid into her skin, wanting, if only for a moment, to keep this gift upon her. 

Her head and her body ached, she felt as if someone had poured sand into her joints. Thinking that a shower might help her feel better, and possibly restore some of her memory, she stepped into the hallway and ran naked into the bathroom.

The tile of the bathroom floor was like ice on the soles of her feet. The cold air licked devilishly at her body and goosebumps covered her skin. She shivered lightly as her nipples hardened. She smiled at herself in the mirror, the memory of waking up next to her brother filling her with joy. She still wondered about the details behind the delicious wet spot on her skin but she felt a shower was due before she tried to process that information. 

She turned on the water, fighting with the dial until she found a suitable temperature. She often felt that the shower dial should be named "Hoth" for cold and "Mordor" for hot; a joke she had read on Pinterest. She stepped gracefully into the shower, moaning audibly as the hot water cascaded down her body and caressed her soft, freckle dotted flesh.

The water consumed her, flowing over her skin in a crystal clear ripple which danced upon her skin. From her shoulders it flowed down over and between her breasts, dripping from her nipples or shimmering across her flat stomach. The heat of the water tinged her skin a bright pink, and chased the cold from the room. 

Her mind began to clear as the water, so much like a baptism, washed away bits of the lingering miasma she had felt upon waking. She stretched again, extending her body beneath the water, not caring as the spray fell upon her face. Flashes of the previous night were coming back to her; drinking with Mark, kissing her brother on the cheek, climbing out a window. She couldn't quite make sense of them but felt certain the alcohol was to blame. 

Tilting her head back into the water she worked her fingers through her hair, combing through the thick mess of bed head as the water worked its magic herein. She liberally applied shampoo to the red stack upon her head and this act brought up a memory of her as a girl. A time when she and Jericho were still young enough to bathe together. He was 5 and she was 4. An innocent time, Jericho had scooped up some of the bubbles from the shared bath and placed them on top of her hair. "Now you have cool whip on top of you, Strawberry!" they both giggled at the joke and that was that. 

The memory enhanced the smile on her face. She had so many good memories with her brother, sure they fought like any siblings, but he was fiercely loyal to her and at her saddest moments he would do some of the most romantic things to make her smile.

Too soon the shower had ended. She felt fresh and clean but still could not fathom how she had ended up in her brother's bed. She didn't know for certain if anything had happened. She hoped something had but the only way to know was to ask him. She bit her lip nervously and that was when she felt his arms slide around her waist. 

Jericho had meant to rise from bed, carry his sister to her room, tuck her in, and return to his own room. Really, he had, but..... But the smell of her body, the natural scent of her skin, her sweat, her glorious arousal filled his nostrils with every breath and this sweet perfume soothed his spirit. The feeling of his sister's body next to his own assured him that, at least for this one night, all was right with the world. He lay there, listening to her deep, even breathing, feeling her chest rise and fall against his own. It was humid, sweaty, and her hair kept getting all over his face; he wouldn't have traded a second for anything.

He tightened his arm around her, silently vowing to her, to the universe, to anyone who could hear, that he would protect her, treasure her, and love her to the sacrifice of all else. He expected nothing in return for his vow, she would always be the center of his world. Despite the heat and discomfort (his arm had fallen asleep long ago) he felt himself drifting to sleep. 

When he awoke he was slightly cooler, well-rested, and alone. This last element caused his anxiety to sky-rocket. What had she thought when she had awakened, naked, in his arms, with his cum on her side? Sure it had been her who had climbed into his bed, but he should have woken her, should have taken her to her room, something, anything. Instead he had been selfish, had spent the night enjoying what he had long dreamed of having and now he would have to pay. His mind spiraled into a panic, fear filled him.

He rose from the bed, put on his boxers and some light running gear. Opening his door he heard the shower begin to run, Samantha must just have woken up. He thought about going to her, thought about apologizing and begging for her forgiveness. He also thought that throwing the door open to apologize for letting her sleep naked by him, and catching her naked in the process might undermine the apology. The rhythmic landing of his feet on the dirt path focused his thoughts in the moment. Breathe in, breathe out, jump over the log, watch out for stones. 

Sweat covered his body and his muscles were beginning to scream from the abuse. He had set out with the intention of clearing his head and what had ensued could be classified as nothing other than punishment. He had been running for 20 minutes, pushing himself harder every time his muscles begged to stop. His breath rushed in and out of his lungs as quickly as he could breathe and his hair lay heavy on his brow.

When he could go no further, he collapsed in a clearing. His body hummed with pain and exhaustion, he had nearly completed the 5 mile cycle around his house. He figured that Samantha would be in the shower for at least an hour and resolved that when he could move once more he would start back to the house. The light of the morning sun shone through the trees, the rays becoming almost tangible in the sea of forest pollen and dust. He felt the warmth shining on him and for some unknowable reason, his spirits began to lift. 

In his mind he saw Samantha, dancing with him, laughing with him, he thought of all the times he had told her he loved her. He smiled. For so long he had wanted her as more than a sister that he had neglected to realize, he already had her in his life. True he wanted more but that should be reason for joy, not for sadness. He had let the prospect of never having her as anything more, cloud the good times they already had together. 

The light continued to shine on him. His muscles seemed to drink the light in, utilizing the solar power to repair themselves. His smile grew larger. He had already spent a night with her in his arms, he had dedicated his very soul to her, and she deserved to know the truth. He resolved to tell her, to make her see, that there would never be anyone else for him. His love for her could never be trumped or overshadowed by another. If she said no, it would hurt, but he would understand. 

Jumping to his feet he ran faster than previously. He seemed fueled by some otherworldly source, and though he should have been upset about the prospect of Samantha turning him away, he was overjoyed that he had an opportunity to tell her, to confess his love for her. For some reason, he looked forward to this moment.

He opened the front door of the house, took the stairs two at a time, and arrived at the top landing just in time to hear the shower shut off. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, to catch his breath, and then opened the door slowly.

Her long red hair hung in thick tresses down her back, a canary yellow towel wrapped tightly above her breasts covered her modesty to well below her knees. At 5'3" there wasn't much that didn't swallow her up, but to him she was a goddess. He didn't know how a woman as short as her could have such long legs. She was a mystery, and he hoped one day she would be his. 

Her back was too him, she was focusing on some aspect of herself in the mirror as he slipped his arms around her waist. This was the moment, all or nothing. 

"Samantha," he started, but her lips upon his own stopped the words in his throat.

She stopped kissing long enough to tell him, "I love you, Jericho. I love you, truly. I have been hoping you would see but I don't want to wait any longer. I want you, I love you more than I should but I don't want to love you any less." He looked into her eyes, stunned.

Her eyes began to tear up, thinking the worst, thinking she had done something to destroy their relationship. When he smiled, she wanted to scream.

"I love you too, Strawberry." he said, using his childhood nickname for her. "I have loved you for so long. I'm sorry I never told you, I was just so frightened of losing you that I couldn't bring myself to say it." He took her in his arms and kissed her. 

Years of passion were poured into the kiss and by the end they were out of breath, flushed, and giggling like school kids. She looked into his eyes, and bit her lip in that oh-so-seductive way before she allowed her towel to drop from her body. His eyes were riveted to her body.

Her hair, a much darker red due to still being damp, the freckles on the bridge of her nose just beneath her all-consuming eyes, the full pouty look of her lips, the dimples on her cheeks. His eyes drank in her beauty. The sheer perfection of her features as she looked, shyly up at him, hoping silently that he finds her attractive. 

He reaches out tentatively, hoping he isn't hallucinating. The instant his finger made contact with her skin, the both reacted as if an electric charge had been unleashed upon them. His eyes closed at the contact and when they opened she saw not the love once radiating there, instead she saw hunger in its most pure form. His desire had consumed him and it reflected in his eyes as he looked at the only person whom could satiate his urges. Her body responded immediately.

His hand lingered for a moment on her cheek before slowly sliding down to her neck. The feeling of his fingers on her skin caused her breathing to become more rapid, her blood rushed through her veins, and she could feel herself getting wet. His hand had reached her breasts and he gently caressed her small nipples before allowing his hand to slide lower. As he made contact with her abs, he felt her stomach muscles roll against his touch. He smiled and leaned in closer to her, his mouth mere inches from her ear. She could feel his every breath and it made her burn hotter for him. 

"So....soft." he whispered to her as his fingers got closer and closer to her clean shaven mound. 

She had never been touched there by anyone other than herself and her body ached for the sensation of his fingers upon her. She could feel her lips parting like a flower in bloom. She didn't know if she could wait much longer, the expectation was killing her, driving her wild. Still his hand moved slowly onward, getting closer and closer.

The moment his hand touched her slick, swollen lips, he nibbled on her ear. The result was instantaneous. Her juices exploded on his hand and her knees buckled. 

He caught her without much effort, chuckling lightly to himself at her reaction. She blushed shyly but smiled at him as he licked his fingers. The desire she had witnessed in his eyes before burned so much darker upon him. If there had been a point when he could have turned away from her (not that he ever would) there existed no such time now. He would have her, he would take her, and she could not wait! He, however, had a different idea to how long she would wait. True, he wanted her beyond anything he had ever experienced. But he wanted things to go a certain way, he wanted it to be special for her. He leaned in and kissed her, his tongue dancing with her own. Lifting her into his arms as one carries a bride, he took her into her room.

His strong arms held her securely and her eyes never left his except when they kissed. Gently, he laid her on her bed, and her first thought was to cover herself but the look in his eyes as he drank her in, left her breathless. He pulled his shirt over his head and she bit her lip once more. His abs rippled and rolled as he moved. She could see each tight coil of muscle beneath his skin and it left her wanting to taste each inch of him. 

Tearing her eyes from his abs, Samantha looked at her brother and absorbed all of the details of this moment. His shaggy dark hair hanging heavily, still damp from his run. His high cheekbones, distinguished nose, and a smirk on his kiss-reddened lips. She rubbed her thighs together but stopped when he shook his head at her. 

His hand found the back of her head, wrapping tightly in the long strands, he melted into the bed kissing her as they fell together. He kissed her with all the passion and hunger he had kept within himself. Her hands caressed his sides, her nails lightly scratching at his skin hinting at her own deep hunger. He moaned into her mouth. He managed to separate from her and smiled at her. 

"I have wanted this so long, I have wanted only you. Now that I have you, I know what I want to do but you will have to stay perfectly still for me, ok?" She eagerly nodded her head and lay back. 

He kissed her lips lightly, her cheek, her chin, her neck, working inexorably down her body. His lips upon her breasts stole her breath and she struggled to keep her hands and legs under her control. More kisses across her upper abs, then around her belly-button, and finally her lower stomach just above her pubic mound. Her toes curled and uncurled, the anticipation driving her wild. He moved lower, his breath caressing her delicate untouched slit, and then she almost screamed as he continued to move lower, kissing her thighs, leaving her soaking wet pussy, untouched and wanting. 

Jericho smiled to himself, he knew teasing her was not very nice but he wanted her to experience every moment of pleasure he could give her. Teasing was a part of that. Reaching her feet he sat back on his heels and lifted one leg running his fingers of the pads and sole of her foot. Lifting her leg had caused her lips to spread and he could see her juices flowing from within her. He lifted her foot to his mouth and licked the pads of her toes. 

She expected the action to tickle, she had not expected the flutter inside of her, she had not expected the muscles within her vagina to clench, nor had she expected the flood she felt. It intensified as he lightly bit on her toe. The pressure of his teeth on her delicate skin left her feeling completely at his mercy. The feeling of his tongue flashing across her tiny digits made her want to giggle, scream, and beg for more all at the same time.

He lowered her foot, she took a breath in thinking it was over, her eyes opened wider as he lifted her other foot. Again she was tortured by the sensations. He had a power over her body and seemed to revel in using it. She could smell her own scent in the room and blushed even as his tongue made her wetter.

He rested her foot back on the bed and began to kiss his way back up her body, letting his tongue lick slow soft geometric shapes as he moved up. Again, she could feel his breath on her pussy. The heat and moisture causing her to twitch uncontrollably beneath him. 

"Uh-uh-uh," he said. "No moving." She could hear the smile on his face and it just made her ache all the more. 

The first feeling of his presence was the pressure of his nose just at the top of her slit. Then the electric spark of his tongue on her between her delicate lips. He didn't go for her clit, but instead licked slowly across her lips. He gently pulled her lips into his mouth, licking her juices from them. The sensation of his tongue was driving her wild and she was bucking against his mouth. He never expected her to be able to hold still the whole time but knew telling her not to move would make her hotter.

He licked deep into her, curling his tongue inside her as she moaned and whimpered for him. She moved her hips harder, trying to get more friction on her clit but he evaded her at every turn. When she could stand it no longer she grabbed his hair with her hands and pulled his face deeper into her. As she did this he locked on to her clit and licked her long and slow as she continued to grind against him. Soon however, the scent of her nectar had driven him wild and he was furiously flicking her clit with his tongue to the pleasing sounds of her moans and screams for him.

"Yes, Jericho, mmmmm, oh! That's it, don't stop, don't stop licking your sweet sister's pussy." Hearing her dirty talk only made him harder, he throbbed against the bed. 

"More, more, don't stop, oh God, don't stop." Her hands were locked in his hair as her orgasm tore through her. 

She arched her back, squirming, bucking against him as her juices exploded into his mouth. Her moans filled the room and he held on for dear life. He loved hearing her crying out for him, and he thanked God that their parents were out of town. 

As she came down, she shuddered and twisted in his arms. He kissed his way up her body, tasting the salty sweat on her skin. She kissed him, tasting her cum on his tongue and groaning at the feelings coursing through her. Her clit was sensitive but still her juices flowed within her. She wanted to feel him deep inside her, she wanted him to make love to her.

She rolled him onto his back and broke off the kiss. Breathless, she tugged off his shoes and socks and yanked his pants off. He could tell by her fevered actions that she was not satiated, neither was he. 

Once free of his pants, his member stood proudly. Had she remembered her dream she would have been amazed at how accurate it had been. He stood 8 inches long and as thick and fat as three of her fingers combined. She marveled at the size and felt deja vu as she wondered how it would fit inside her. 




True (Forbidden) Love Ch. 02



She leaned closer, the scent of his body pulling her in, feeding the fire within her. She opened her mouth and let her tongue touch the tip of him. It tasted no different than the skin on his chest so she licked once more, this time catching a bit of pre-cum as it beaded from his excitement. The flavor was an explosion upon her tongue. She moaned and ground her slit against him as many dirty thoughts flooded her mind. She wanted to have more of him, more of that flavor, but that would only delay things further. 

She climbed up his body, straddling his legs with her slit poised just above his dick. She looked at him, her eyes consuming him, her hair swooped over one shoulder, and her lip bit delicately between her teeth. He growled at her, low in his throat before rolling her over onto her back and holding himself firmly at her opening. She spread like a flower in full-bloom. It looked so inviting. He moved forward a little and she could feel the heat of his dick pressed against her opening. 

"Go slow." she said. "I've never,..." she trailed off.

He nodded his head at her, began to move his hips, then stopped. "I love you, Samantha. You are a goddess to me, and I want this to be perfect for you. You are my world." He kissed her deeply as he slowly pushed forward.

He met resistance within her as the head of his dick pressed against her hymen. She yelped at the pain. He looked into her eyes and said, "Don't stop kissing me, it will be over quickly." She nodded her head, bit her lip, and kissed him. 

The pain was brief but terrible, she could feel the tearing sensation but beneath it, a fullness she had never experienced before. She had wondered how he would fit inside her, and now she stared down, seeing the place where he ended and she began. Somehow he had fit completely. 

He started to move and she cried out in pain. She pressed against him, trying to stop his movements but before she had put too much effort into it, things started to feel different, started to feel . . . better.

Before her next conscious thought could form, her nails were digging into his back as her legs wrapped around his waist. The feelings were amazing. He made her body sing, she cried out for him, screamed his name, and the muscles of her pussy were going crazy. 

He could feel them squeeze and release, pulsing, trying to pull him in or push him out. He saw a bit of drool at the corner of her mouth as she moaned for him, eyes closed. The velvety warmth of her pussy was too much to take. She squeezed him tighter with every orgasm, and a string of dirty words were flowing from her mouth.

"Fuck me, oh, yes! Take your sister, oh you're so dirty, making me cum all over your dick over and over. God! Don't stop, harder, harder, I'm so close, so close, I'm going to cuuuuummmm!" And he would be rewarded with another burst of her cum spraying wildly from her pussy. He pushed himself as far as he could go, taking her higher until her words were a jumble of non-sensical sounds and that is where he lost it. 

At some point in her delirium she had gained the foresight to sit up, bite firmly on the side of his neck, and let her tongue lick sloppily just above his collar bone. 

He screamed her name. Loud.

And as he screamed she could feel, like a great wave of energy as his dick pulsed, stopped, pulsed, stopped, pulsed, and exploded. Rope after rope spraying heavily into her virgin womb. She could feel the heat, the pressure of each spurt as it collided against the sides of her pussy. She moaned into his neck and bit harder, squeezing her thighs tightly around him, doing everything she could think to make this moment last an eternity. 

When she no longer felt the pulsing within her, she opened her mouth. A string of saliva connected her to him as she lifted away. Her teeth marks shone on his skin and she thought for a moment she had hurt him. Looking into his eyes to ask him she saw a look of pure bliss upon his face. He had loved every minute of it.

They laid down wrapped in one another's arms. Even after his dick had softened and slipped from her noisily. They had laughed, she had blushed a little, but neither let go of the other. She could feel his cum leaking from her, the feeling was different but it made her just want more. Still they held one another. They made an unspoken vow to one another to never let go, ever again.

Her phone beeped. The first noise in the room aside from their breathing and contented conversation. Smiling, Samantha turned and picked her phone up. Jericho could read over her shoulder but as the screen lit up, her stomach fell.

"You fucking bitch, think you can ditch me. No one does that to me. No one. You will pay slut, you will pay. - MARK." The screen showed.

Samantha felt fear flood through her. Still the pact existed, they would never let each other go so there was nothing to worry about. 

Jericho took his hands off of her, for what was to happen next he had to, if only temporarily, let her go.



True (Forbidden) Love Ch. 03



For those of you interested in a quick sex scene, I apologize as it takes some time to get there. This is the end of the story so there is quite a bit of "story" to get through. If you insist on skipping to the sex scene it is in the last two or three pages (depending on how this site processes this work). For those of you who have enjoyed the story so far, your comments, votes, and views have been an amazing experience for me. I have put a lot of time in to this story and I encourage feedback from any who have any to offer. I hope you enjoy the last installment.

- BenevolentDCC



Alexander Drummel had known from an early age that his son had a terrible darkness growing within him. He was quick tempered, often putting the need for action miles ahead of any kind of planning. 

As an officer of the law, Alexander had made it a point to try and eliminate that darkness, the rage and intensity surging just behind the surface of his son's actions. When eliminating did not work, he turned to focusing his son's attentions into competitive sports. The more control the sport required, the more planning, the more timing, the better his son interacted with those around him. 

These thoughts buzzed in his mind as he analyzed the suspect sitting across from him in the interrogation room. Sweat beaded on his impetuous face, his hair clung in a sopping mess atop his head. His eyes twitched, like a cornered animal he considered all elements of his surroundings hoping with all he had to find something with which he could gain leverage over his captor. 

Alexander could smell the fear on this perp, could feel the environment becoming tainted by the palpable stink of desperation; his mouth shifted in disgust.

"Look, I didn't do nothing, motherfucker!" the kid shouted, his spit spraying with every word.

Alexander paused for a moment, his eyes focused solidly. 

"You will watch your mouth when addressing me. Is that understood, kid?" Alexander spoke slowly, making certain his every word conveyed the underlying meaning, or else. 

"I didn't do anything." The kid spoke in a submissive manner. He refused to make eye-contact with the behemoth sitting across from him. 

"Look kid, we removed the drugs from your person, after chasing you three blocks AND through an abandoned building. We don't need a confession from you, frankly your goose is cooked. The only reason we are even in this room is because we feel you may have some information we need. See in this case, I'm the fisherman, and you, depending on what you choose next, are either dinner or you're going to be tossed back. So, what is it going to be, kid?" 

Alexander knew he had the perp's attention, could feel the wheels turning as he considered the choices he had been given. 

The kid let his head fall against the table in defeat.

Alexander smiled, his white teeth shining in the fluorescent light.



The Day Before

Samantha could feel her brother's cum within her, a heavy, warm pool coating the inside of her pussy. She smiled to herself and cuddled back into his arms. It had taken some time, and creative thinking, to get him to relax after the text message from Mark. For the first few hours he wouldn't even touch her, his body just shook in anger at the threat. However, their night together had been magical. 

Now, the golden rays of the Sun were streaming through her bedroom windows, warming the cuddling pair. Her brother's arms were draped protectively around her. She smiled sleepily and snuggled back into him. The warmth of his body infused her more than the rising sun while the feeling of his dick, hard and thick, pressed against her ass gave her excitingly impure thoughts. She looked at the clock; Mon 7:30 flashed at her. She flashed from the bed, her bare bottom flashing through the door as her brother opened his eyes. 

The shower felt amazing on her "exercise" sore muscles and the sloshing of her brother's cum reminded her of the wonderful stretches he had shown her. Though she could not wait to be back in his arms, school beckoned. After dressing hastily, pulling her hair into a messy bun, and giving her brother a deep, soulful, promising kiss, she was on her way praying that the traffic lights would be in her favor.

As a Senior with a 4.0 GPA, Samantha usually enjoyed attending classes, being engaged by her teachers, and making sure she could absorb all the information presented in class. Today, she could care less about what was going on in the room. Her mind was filled with images and thoughts of what waited for her when she returned home, she unconsciously licked her lips.

Even her friends had sensed an unexpected difference in her. She was bubbly by nature but today she seemed to glow. Her hair bounced as she walked, she swung her hips more, and her smile nearly split her face as she gossiped and joked with them. Having known about her impending date with Mark, they all assumed she had had sex. However, when they questioned her for details about the date they were given a different story.

"Come on girl, spill!" Rachel, a blonde Junior, gushed.

"There isn't much to tell." Samantha returned.

"Don't be like that, give us the details." Jody, another Junior who could pass for Rachel's twin piped up.

"Ok, look. Mark may be pleasing to the eye but in reality he is very dull. I need something more stimulating..."

"Ohhh, I bet!" They laughed.

"Not that way!" She scowled at them, smiled, and continued. "I dunno, I mean, I know what he wanted, but he just didn't do anything for me. He did get my drunk for the first time but the hangover was killer. I couldn't even remember half of the night. Heck, I could barely remember leaving my house!" 

The girl's exchanged curious looks but didn't say anything further. Just as Samantha opened her mouth to continue her story, the "Tardy" bell rang and the would be twins skipped away. She let out a sigh and turned to gather her books from her locker. As she closed the small square door a petite brunette appeared, standing right in her path. 

"We need to talk." And with that declaration, she grabbed Samantha's arm, gently, and lead her away.



Sergeant Alexander Drummel had never seen someone actually run the way the perp was currently going at it. He defied gravity with his jumps, slides, wall-runs, and re-directs. It was almost artistic the way he turned his body to avoid a painful collision with environmental obstacles. The term "Parkour" was not unfamiliar to the Sergeant, but he had never seen it in person, and never to this degree. 

He, on the other hand, ran more like a wrecking ball. Obliterating things in his path or narrowly missing them in his adrenaline rush of a chase. They turned the corner, the labored breathing of his partner giving him the comfort of knowing he wasn't alone (though he was certain he soon would be by the sound of things), and continued the run into a long abandoned, shell of a factory. The sounds of their footsteps echoing in the wide-open dust filled area.

The perp - a small time drug dealer who specialized in narcotics, hallucinogens, and date-rape substances - had broken into an all out run, taking advantage of the open spaces to really let his speed show.

Alexander's partner had fallen behind, hands over his head attempting to work out a stitch that had taken root in his side.

The kid was fast, far faster than any drug dealer had a right to be, and his obvious advantage pissed the Sergeant off more. He had only seen this kind of speed in one other person, but thoughts of his son would do nothing but distract him here.

He thought about drawing his weapon, maybe giving the kid a nice piece of lead in the ass, but dismissed the idea because of the bureau-cratical nightmare it would cause. 

Instead he focused his attention and poured his soul into the chase. Just when his muscles felt they could do no more, and the thought that the kid might escape crossed his mind, fate took control in the form of a loose stone the kid failed to see. His ankle twisted and he crashed to the gravel just outside the large bay door of the factory. 

Now Alexander drew his gun. 

"Freeze, Asshole! Make one move and I swear I'll put a bullet in you!" His voice boomed.

The kid twisted as if to attempt another run, but the bullet smashing in to the ground just to his right made him think twice. He held up his hands in surrender.



Jericho had watched his sister leave for school. The taste of her kiss still lingered on his lips and her scent was all around him. He lay in her bed, breathing her in, listening to the silence of the house, and enjoying a new-found peace that radiated within him. 

He had once thought that his love for Samantha had been a passing fancy, then as it persisted he had called it love. Now, he felt that love was not a strong enough word for the feelings he held for this beautiful woman, this goddess, this enchantress.

Just the touch of her fingers against his skin had soothed his anger when all he could see was red. Her kiss had cleared his mind of all hatred. Her body against his . . . okay, well that had caused some localized tension but it was the "good" kind. He smiled and it came easily.

He rose from her bed when his stomach began to complain at him. With his parents away at work he didn't worry about getting dressed. Instead he enjoyed the breeze of being naked, and the naughty thrill of being naked where he shouldn't. 

After his small, but filling breakfast. He made his way to the shower and ruminated on how so much had changed in his life in just a matter of days. A smile came to his lips when he thought of the last time he had showered and the mild fantasies which had come to him then. While his sister had seemed innocent, she was up for whatever he wanted. 

He washed himself, letting the heat of the water ease his muscles. Enjoying the cascade over his face as it cleansed him of all his worries. He stretched, popping his joints and rolling his muscles to shake out the tension. 

Today would be the first time that Jericho stepped into the ring with another amateur fighter for placement in an upcoming tournament. Normally he would have felt anxious about the upcoming battle, but in light of recent events, the prospect of getting pinned (or knocked out) was low on his list of priorities. 

His opponent was fast, his jabs and kicks leaving stinging spots on Jericho's body. What he lacked in power he more than made up for in speed, landing four more body shots and one haymaker that left Jericho's ears ringing before Jericho had managed a single clench. He shook his head and ducked, barely missing a kick that would have sent the world spinning. 

His opponent, now off-balance by the unexpected miss, stumbled and tried to get his balance. Jericho, who was not lacking in power, took advantage of this opening to land a solid right upper cut into the lower abs of his target. The fighter stumbled back, swung wildly at Jericho who hooked his right arm and dragged the smaller man to the mat. In a series of turns and twists, Jericho secured his opponent in a pin that threatened to snap the other man's back. He tapped out.

He felt his spirits soar when he thought of telling his sister about his victory. Today had been the best day for him. He had gotten to wake up with his soul mate in his arms and had earned placement in a regional tournament. He felt that the smile on his face would never fade, then he saw Mark.



Mark had carried his anger with him through the weekend. When that little dyke had skipped out on him it had been a slap in the face. He had, till that night, never had a girl turn him down successfully. This little bitch had ruined his perfect record of always sealing the deal. And to top it all off, he was still out on the money he had spent on the drugs. He had still gotten his rocks off with the help of a "Jock chaser" but it wasn't the same. Hell, he hadn't even risen fully to the cause.

Today Mark's anger was doubled because he hadn't heard from his dealer about their upcoming meeting. Mark needed to replenish his stash and this slippery little bastard was the only game in town. He also guessed that he was being overcharged but again, only game in town. Now that the school day was over his mind was focused on things other than football. Things he would rather not think.

He decided that some company would take his mind off these ego bruising issues so he called up some other guys from the team and informed them that they needed to be ready to go eat in town by the time he got to their houses. 

He suspected that most of the guys secretly disliked him, but he knew that they would bend to his will because he was the talent. Also because his father was in a position to cause a lot of trouble for them if they didn't align with him. 

All was going well while they ate. They joked about the people they knew, talked shit about one another (no one said anything about Mark), and gave graphic accounts of the girls they had "made scream" or "super-soaked" or even "left her scratching at the bed posts all night long (Mark's)." 

Mark's thoughts were blissfully free of Samantha until Rick, a Sophomore on the team had piped up.

"So Mark, how was your weekend?" He smiled toothily at the quarter-back but he was unaware of the nerve he had hit.

He didn't let his anger show, for all these assholes knew he had been as successful as always. He launched into a detailed account of how he had used her in every demeaning way possible. How he had left her gaping, covered in cum, and begging for more. 

They absorbed every word of his tale and he had saved face for the time being. Though his story was not yet true, he had every intention of making it true very soon.

He rose from the table, dumped his tray and said, "Let's go assholes" and without waiting for them, he stepped into the bright light of day letting the door swing closed behind him. He heard tires screeching, saw the only-slightly-familiar face of Samantha's brother step from the truck, and then, "Hey! Yeah you, motherfucker!" Mark wasn't afraid, he had sized this guy up in one look. Tall, gangly, no threat at all. He smiled, this was going to be fun.



"Hey! Yeah you, motherfucker!" Jericho shouted as his feet slammed against the pavement. He rushed toward Mark, the lines of text delivered to his sister's phone blazing in his mind's eye. Mark lunged at him but Jericho's experience in fighting allowed him to easily dodge the punch. He countered with a solid hit to the sternum which stole Mark's breath from his chest.

Mark fell to his knees surprised by the power in Jericho. It looked like things would be a lot more complicated than he originally thought. Jericho towered over him, anger pouring off him in an oppressive wave. Mark closed his eyes expecting pain but the tinkling of the diner's door bell caught Jericho's attention. Seizing the moment, Mark tackled Jericho to the ground and began to lay in to him with everything he could muster.

The muscles beneath the thin fabric of the shirt were hard as stone. Mark couldn't be certain he was making a dent in this guy but he didn't stop swinging. Jericho focused on blocking his face from attack and waiting for the right moment to topple Mark off of him. 

Mark drew back for a powerful blow but this action left him momentarily defenseless. Jericho delivered a short fast attack to Mark's nose; hearing and feeling the small bone break beneath the assault. 

Back on their feet with some distance between them, Mark got a chance to look around and find his group of "friends" behind him. 

"What are you fuckers doing?! Get in here and teach this faggot a lesson!" They shared uncertain looks with one another. None of them wanted to get involved. They could see the blood gushing from Mark's nose and the fact that this seemingly unimpressive guy had gotten in such a good hit left them worried for their own well-being.

Jericho could feel his energy waning. The adrenaline had given him great reserves of focus and power during his first fight of the day, Mark had drained what was left. Now he was staring at five people in total, all football players by the looks of them. He didn't like his odds.

"What are you waiting for ya bunch of pussies!? Get him!" Seeing the anger in his eyes and fearing what would happen if he told his father to make them pay, they advanced on the lone fighter.

Jericho took his best stance. He didn't speak, he focused his breathing and grounded himself in the moment. It didn't help.

They attacked at once. The training they received on the football field, the training which allowed them to move as a unified front had become second nature. They attacked him together. Jericho managed one solid contact before he was forced to his hands and knees. The resulting kicks of the group forced him to his side as he curled into a fetal position attempting to protect as much of himself as possible. 

Suddenly, they stopped. Jericho felt strong hands, two on each arm as he was pulled from the ground. He raised his face and met Mark's eyes. Mark drew in a deep breath of air, made a loud scraping noise in his sinuses and spit a mouthful of blood and mucus onto Jericho's face.

"You seriously thought you could take me, you little cunt? I am the embodiment of power! You never had a chance." Mark sneered at him.

Jericho's throat was dry, he could taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. He was focused on breathing through the pain which wracked his body so he said nothing in return.

"Do you know what I'm going to do next, motherfucker?" He kicked Jericho in the face. "After I finish with you, I'm going to go to your house, and I'm going to force your frigid bitch of a sister to her knees and make her gag on my nice hard dick! Then, when her tears have soaked her face, I'm going to rip off her clothes and fuck her till she begs for more!"

Jericho heard the words as explosions in his ears. The pain died down, his breathing slowed, and his vision started to clear. He could feel the heat building within him, could feel the anger, no, the rage swelling up threatening to take over. He didn't try to fight it, he welcomed it for the first time in his life, he welcomed the loss of control which was imminent.

"What do you think of that little guy? I'm going to make your sister my slut and then I'm going to drop her as a worthless cunt. It's just a shame that I wasted those drugs on her. Oh well, I'll make sure I get my money's worth out of her skin." Mark had turned his back on the subdued Jericho, he was certain that there was nothing which would change the outcome of this moment. 

Jericho had checked out. Mark head the exclamations slightly before the bodies hit the ground. He spun on his heels to see a free, and shirtless, Jericho standing over the bodies of the two who had held him down. His muscles were unreal. Not an ounce of fat could be seen on him and his eyes held and intensity within them, a focus which was totally aimed at Mark. 

Mark felt confident that with the help of his friends this dog could be put down once more, but as he looked to his left and right he realized he was alone. Now his heart began to race. He started to turn to run but Jericho, or whoever this was, was much faster. His hand locked on Mark's shirt and forced him to turn around. Mark wanted freedom, Jericho wanted to cause pain.

Mark swung heavily at Jericho's head but Jericho went to his knee, ducking the blow, and brought his fist full-force into the side of Mark's knee. The resulting crack sound assured Jericho that Mark would never again play football. The pain flooded Mark's body and the jock went down, hard. Light's out.

Jericho felt his anger ease, felt the tension slide from his body. As the blue and red lights began to flash in his vision, weariness overtook him and he slept.




True (Forbidden) Love Ch. 03



The girl's bathroom smelled of floral scent floor cleaner, ammonia, and the nauseating fumes of Scrubbing Bubbles. After a quick check to make certain that no one else was utilizing the space, the brunette turned to look at Samantha. She bit her lip gently suddenly self-conscious as she shared this room with one of the most beautiful girl's in the school. 

Samantha cleared her throat, nervously ran her fingers through her hair, and looked around. This was the first time she had ever skipped class and she was certain that at any moment a teacher would burst in and give her detention. 

She looked at her . . . she guessed the word was abductor but that felt wrong. The girl had a look in her eyes that was almost pleading with Samantha, asking for understanding, acceptance . . . patience. So Samantha waited.

"M, m, My name is Jessica. You and I don't really know one another but we have something in common. You see, I dated Mark as well." The petite brunette stated.

Samantha was speechless. She didn't know where this conversation was going but something in Jessica's demeanor demanded attention. 

"For the longest time, I thought I was crazy. I thought maybe the alcohol had robbed me of my memories. I felt so much shame at having been that reckless. Then I found Am. . .then I found another person who shared a similar story." Jessica searched Samantha's eyes for understanding, for some sign that showed she had made the connection.

"What are you saying?" Samantha asked. She felt she already knew the answer, felt it in the sinking of her stomach and the tremors in her legs. But she needed to hear the words out loud.

"He drugs us!" Jessica almost screamed. "That's why so many of us can't remember the date, can't remember anything after the date. Why we," tears filled her eyes, "why we can't remember losing our virginities." Jessica hung her head as her tears fell down her cheeks.

"He and I never had sex." Samantha said.

"You mean you don't remember." Jessica said through her sniffles.

"No, I mean, we didn't have sex. I may not remember the night but my brother was there when I came home. I hadn't been gone long enough to have sex." Samantha explained.

"That still doesn't prove..." Jessica started but was interrupted by Samantha flipping her phone open to the text message from Mark.

Jessica's eyes widened as she accepted the fact that Samantha had escaped the same trauma she had not. Jessica hugged her with joy in her eyes. Then her eyes fell again.

"That means you can't help us." Jessica said.

"I was still drugged by him. I will help you and any others in any way I can. Should we go to the police?" Samantha asked.

"We have gone to the police. Only one there would listen to us, the rest turned us away. They didn't want to get involved." 

Samantha hugged the girl. If Jericho knew the truth about who Mark was, what he had done, Jericho would probably kill him. She shuddered, though from excitement or fear she couldn't tell.



Alexander Drummel sat down in his favorite chair in the parlor of his modest suburban home. The TV was on broadcasting the day's news which just so happened to feature two stories about members of the local community.

He smiled at the details of the first story. Apparently a police officer sharing his name had tracked down and caught a prominent drug dealer. This drug dealer had turned State's Witness in exchange for a reduced sentence. The second story was much more intriguing. 

"Earlier today Cherry County High School's own Mark Romans was charged with multiple counts of drug trafficking and date rape. It has also been confirmed that Mark was witnessed assaulting another person in broad daylight and view of many community members who were enjoying an evening meal at a local diner. The assault charge has been dropped in exchange for a plea of guilty to the rape charges." 

Alexander turned off the TV. He smiled as the memory of forcing the Mayor to back down resurfaced in his mind. 

"Sergeant Drummel! Do you want to explain to me why my son is in custody!" Spit sprayed from the Mayor's mouth but Alexander payed it no mind.

"Mr. Mayor, your son faces very serious charges. VERY serious charges. We have a mountain of evidence against him. He is going down, your career is over. How fast depends on what you say next." Alexander smiled in the Mayor's face.

"What, what do you mean?"

Alexander reached out and grasped the Mayors hand in a firm hand shake. "I have dirt on your too, Mr. Mayor." And that was that, another case closed and a promotion in the very near future. Alexander smiled and took a sip of the Cranberry juice in his glass.

Above him, he could hear the repetitive movements of weight shifting in a bed. He didn't understand what had pulled them together, but he knew from the way they smiled at one another, from the peace he had sensed in his son when he had opened his eyes after his fight, that there was something more than sex. 

He had never seen his daughter so happy, she glowed. He didn't know if he was supposed to do something about it. As a father, he just wanted the best for his kids, wanted them to be happy, and with someone they truly loved.

He felt they had found all that and more in one another.

Whether there was more to be done about it was a matter for a more well-rested individual. Alexander Drummel felt he had done enough good in the world for one day. He did know one thing for certain; judging from the state of that Mark kid, he knew that Jericho's dark side had found a cause and for that he was supremely happy.

He turned off the lights, tried to remain as quiet as possible as he headed off to his bedroom to curl up with his wife. Thanks to his daughter bringing those girls by and the testimony from the drug dealer, Mark Romans was a done deal. Thanks to his son, Mark would never run again.



Jericho had told his sister the truth about the day, where his bruises had come from, where the rest of his bruises had come from, and mostly, that he loved her. She had been there to see the look on Mark's face when he was confronted with the statements made by his dealer, the girl's he had raped, and the shock on his face when his "friends" had turned on him. 

She had been angry at the marks which lined his body. Every wince from pain drew worried lines on her face and he longed to kiss her worry away. 

"It was you." He said as she lay against him, breathing gently.

"What?" She asked.

"They had beaten me to a point where I couldn't move. I could barely breathe. But when Mark told me what he planned to do to you, when he told me he had drugged you, I lost all concern for myself and thought only of you." He finished.

She didn't know what to say. His had not only spoken to her, his words had sank into her heart. She snuggled closer to him being careful not to hurt him further.

"So, in the end, it was you that saved me. You were the reason I won." He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

The thought that he could have lost, that she could have lost him, made her want to pull him closer, to be with him on a completely different level. She pressed her hand against his shoulder and after a moment he understood what she wanted. He lay on his back expecting her to cuddle closer. He was in for a surprise.

He closed his eyes as her breath caressed his ear. Her tongue snaking out, tracing his ear and sending shivers through his body. He moved his hand to touch her, to pull her onto him, but she slapped his hand away, and whispered an echo of words he had once used on her.

"Nuh-uh, you don't get to touch." she whispered in what she hoped was a seductive, breathless tone. What ever tone she used it clearly worked on him as his dick bounced within his boxers.

They had lain in peace beside one another, her naked, him only in the one garment, but now the environment sparked with sexual tension. Her hands lovingly caressed his chest as her lips met his. Passion erupted between them as the kiss developed a life of its own. He could feel her breasts against his chest and the heat that radiated from between her legs warmed them both. 

She pulled back from his kiss, breathless, flushed, and hungry. Hungry for something she knew only he could give. She gently raked her nails down his torso leaving tingling red lines across his skin. He growled in his throat. He wanted to beg for more but he knew she wouldn't give in until she was ready. This prospect excited him beyond measure. He loved strong women.

Her tongue danced across his neck and the exquisite feelings had him raising his hips off the bed, his cock begging to be inside her. She giggled at the effect she had on him. He growled again. 

Slowly she kissed her way down his body, taking her time, enjoying every hill and valley from his chest to his lower abs. Her tongue in his navel had his hands scraping at the sheet, but he was a good boy, he didn't touch her.

She slid his boxers down, kissing new skin as it was uncovered. He tossed and turned, moaned, and clenched his teeth. She was loving every moment. She could feel her wetness, was almost certain a puddle had formed beneath her, but she didn't care.

"Samantha." He whispered her name beseechingly. "Tell me your fantasies."

Images flooded her mind. In one she was tied up, in another she had a collar on in public while he commanded her to do any and everything he could think of, in still another she was on her knees with his manhood bouncing in front of her just before a golden stream splashed across her breasts. She shook her head clearing the images from her mind, for now.

"In due time, Lover." She said, flashing him a smile that made him groan in delight.

Her tongue teased the slit at the tip of his cock, sliding along the little gash, brining him an odd mixture of pleasure and pain. Then he felt her lips against the swollen head. A gentle, chaste kiss from her could be so erotic in the right situation. Then, thought was washed from his mind by a flood of her saliva as it coated his erection. Into her mouth he went. A little at first, then, deeper and deeper until her throat pulsed around him. He could feel her gagging and immediately felt bad.

"You don't have to take me so deep." He said gently.

She didn't reply, she took a deep breath through her nose and tried once more. The feelings were sublime. She suppressed her gag reflex and suddenly he was in her throat. She swallowed around him, using her throat to caress this firm invader and he nearly lost his control. Thankfully she pulled back a little and focused on the pleasure she could bring him just by using her tongue and teeth.

She had a knack of brining him to the brink of orgasm only to stop just before he exploded. His dick coated thickly in her spit she began to work him with her hands.

"Do you like that, Big Brother? Do you like your slutty sister choking on your massive cock? Do you like seeing me bobbing up and down on your perfect, beautiful dick? I bet I know what you want to do with this. I bet you want to shove this hot, steel rod of yours in my tight little pussy don't you?"

He nodded feverishly. Her dirty talk and the feeling of her hands on him were driving him crazy.

"Do you know how wet you make me? I can feel it, I'm dripping on the bed right now. My little pussy wants your dick really badly. I want to feel you inside of me, pumping, pulsing. . . cumming." With that one word she had pushed him beyond the point of no return.

His hips started moving faster, she knew she couldn't hold him back anymore so she started working him faster with her hands, keeping her face close to the head of his cock all the while. 

"Come on Big Brother, cum for your dirty little sister. Cum on her pretty little face, get it in my hair, make an absolute mess of me. Once you cum, Lover, I'm going to ride your long, hard dick until my pussy is dry. I'm going to make you fuck me until you can't cum any more. Cum for me, let me feel it."

On and on she went, talking to him, working him up, and the whole time her pretty little face was inches from his dick. It was too much to take. His hands found their way to her hair and he moaned her name as his orgasm ripped through him.

Mere moments from exploding, he felt her tiny hand squeeze tightly around the base of his cock. He could feel the pressure building and his fingers curled in her hair. 

When she released he erupted harder than he ever had before. Rope after stringy, sticky rope splashed audibly against her face. Lines of his cum sparkled in her hair, the contrast of the white fluid on the red locks was beautiful beyond compare. A smile split her face as his orgasm died down. 

"I bet I look a mess don't I? You practically soaked me in it!" She licked the head of his cock causing him to hiss from sensitivity. "You're delicious!"

He looked down at her and saw the mess he had created. He began to laugh. His laughter built more and more until his abs hurt just as much from laughing as they did from injuries.

"And what is soooo funny, Mister?" She asked.

"Nothing at all . . . Strawberry!" He said, a sly smile on his face.

Confusion showed in her eyes until she looked at the cum on the head of his member. Shiny and bright white. Then the image of them as children and the bubbles on her head; also white. She smiled and laughed with him. 

Her laughter made his heart swell. He loved her as he had never before thought he could love anyone. He pulled her to him, the smell of his cum in her hair and on her skin did not deter him, his lips found hers. She tasted of strawberries and happiness. As if her laugh had left an after taste of pure joy on her tongue. He lost himself in that kiss.

Her legs wrapped around him, trying to force him to his back but this time he would not be subdued. She had her fun with him and now it was his turn to pay her back. He felt feral around her, like she had awakened some beast within him that vowed to love her with everything it had. If this was true, he loved that beast. 

Sitting atop her he couldn't stop the growl from escaping his mouth. 

"I want you." He said.

"I'm all yours." She replied, accentuating her words by spreading her legs wide.

He could see her arousal shining on her lips, on her thighs. Her delicate flower was in full bloom and her scent wafted around him fueling his fantasies. His cock hummed with life once more. 

Grabbing her wrists in one of his he pulled her arms above her head. 

"You are mine now. My beautiful, innocent little sex-slave. I'm going to take you any way I want." He licked his lips. "Do you understand?" 

"Yes, Master." Her immediate reply caught him off guard. He smiled as her submissive response made his dick pulse. 

He leaned down to her, his lips kissing her delicate skin, his teeth gently scraping. He used his tongue to taste the salt of her sweat as he made his way down her body. The passion was too much for him to hold back, he could not take his time with her. His need for her was too great. 

His tongue dove deep into her pussy, he wanted to drown in her juices. She hadn't expected such a ferocious assault and the intensity of his need washed over her. He devoured her, greedily drinking her in and demanding more. Her moans were the ambrosia that filled his dreams, her scent was the particle which tied reality together, and the taste within his mouth was Nirvana.

She squirted multiple times on his face. He begged for more over and over. Until his dick began to ache.

He nibble his way up her body, his hands squeezing her breasts, his fingers scraping her skin. She had never been so hot for him. 

"I need you!" He hissed.

"I need you!" She echoed.

He pressed his dick firmly against her opening.

"What do you need?" He asked, sliding the head of his cock against her clit.

"I need you. I need your dick inside me. Fuck me. Please, Master, please fuck me! Take me, I'm yours. Do whatever you want to me. Just fuck me, please, please please." She begged him, her pussy grinding against him with every word.

"Good girl." He purred. Then without another word he began to slide in to her.

The feeling of her lips spreading to accommodate his girth was absolute heaven. He closed his eyes trying to absorb every feeling. They moaned in unison as his cock bottomed out in her. 

For this one instant they were one person, connected in the most intimate way possible. Not only connected by flesh, but connected as well by their shared desires for one another.

He began to move within her, allowing his dick to slide almost all the way out of her before slamming it back home. This was not making love. She had begged him to fuck her and that was just what he planned to do.

Soon his hand had wrapped lightly around her throat and their moans filled the room. He watched as her breasts bounced lewdly in response to his thrusts. She moaned for him and he gave her more. 

Every time she squirted around his cock he had to grit his teeth not to fill her up. Still they came together over and over. Her bed was soaked, a sheen of sweat covered their bodies, but their eyes remained locked on one another. 

He was nearing the end of his discipline. He knew he couldn't hold out much more. She seemed to sense it.

"Don't stop, Master. Fuck me harder! Keep going, cum deep inside me. Let me feel it splash within me. Fill me up! Please!!!!" She screamed as her orgasm ripped through her and continued to scream as his dick swelled within her. 

She could feel each spray of his cum splashing against the walls of her pussy. Her pussy convulsed around his cock, milking him for more of his wonderful cum. Her nails dug into his back as she scratched her way down. 

In the aftermath they lay together enjoying the warmth of one another's skin. She could feel his cum inside of her, some of it had already begun to leak from her deliciously sore slit. She purred lightly in her throat and snuggled closer to him.

"I love you." She said, after a sleepy yawn.

"I love you, too. Sweet dreams, Strawberry." He kissed her lips, pulled her close, and listened to her breathing as she slept. He lay there listening to her until sleep overtook him as well. 

His dreams have been peaceful since.





THE END.



True (Forbidden) Love



She washed her hands, brushed her teeth, and turned out the light. The disorientation of going from a brightly lit room to a dark hallway is bad enough, when you are drunk (and drugged) it is a whole other level. Still, she was care-free and dancing to the tunes that sang in her head. It meant nothing to her when she stumbled into her room and almost tripped over a pair of sneakers she had not remembered leaving in her floor. She didn't even notice the still damp towel lying beside the bed. Her attention was entirely captivated by trying to find the bed and she almost got into it, still wearing her pee soaked panties. 

She giggled lightly to herself before removing the damp garment and then climbed fully naked into her bed. Again, she marveled at how soft the mattress was, how big and enveloping the covers were, and oddly, how much it smelled like her brother. Her brother mixed with something more pungent, something ammonia-esque in essence. She shrugged the thought from her mind and wrapped her arms around the giant, if slightly stiff, body pillow she could have sworn she threw out last year. With no thoughts left in her conscious mind, and her nose full of her brother's soothing scent, she drifted off to sleep; naked, warm, and happy.

Jericho awoke to the sound of someone in his room. It sounded like someone was tripping over his things, he went into survival mode all the muscles in his body coiling for action. Just as he was about to spring he heard her giggle. His muscles relaxed. He didn't know the reason but he knew that Samantha was in his room. The thought of her in his room did not frighten or worry him. 

Since she had been a little girl, Samantha had been terrified of storms and had always gone to her brother (three years older and therefore more formidable against storms, she had confessed to him later) so that she could sleep. He figured that she was probably coming to him to escape the thunder or some such event and therefore he began to close his eyes once more. Two things caused his eyes to open once more, though he was careful not to move. The first was the absolute absence of thunder or high-wind activity which would typically indicate a storm in the area. The second was the feeling of Samantha's scorching hot, and unbelievably naked body pressing firmly to his own naked skin. 

He tensed, not knowing what to expect. Surely there had to be some mistake. She made no move to do anything to him and soon her soft snores, and a slight bit of drool, told him she was sleeping. Then it hit him, just beneath the smell of her toothpaste, the scent of alcohol. His anger at Mark for getting his sister drunk was tempered by the feeling of her slim body against his own, the sound of her breathing, the scent of her hair, and the feel of her heart beating against his chest. He would remember this, he would remember her like this, this night and all of his feelings, for the rest of his life. He also planned to seriously maim Mark, but that could wait for another time. 

Jericho, for the first time since realizing his feelings for his sister, was at peace and truly happy. He fell asleep with her wrapped tightly in his arms surrounded by her scent, her warmth, and happiness. 

Samantha dreamed. She would not remember what she dreamed, but the vivid images, emotions, and sensations which coursed through her body were not dependent upon her memory. She could see, hear, taste, smell, and touch everything around her and the only thing around her was him. Jericho was in her arms, his skin hot against her own. He smiled at her, walking toward her gloriously naked, lavishly moving closer and closer. 

Her mouth went dry at the same time other parts of her got wet. He held out his hands to her and as they made contact with one another he pulled her into his arms and smiled at her. The top of her head came to his chest and she could feel the hot length of him pulsing against her thigh. She wanted him, wanted him more than ever before. She needed him within her, had to have him. She couldn't control the desire within her, the desire moistening her thighs, the desire parting her lips as his fingers brushed her cheek. 

As if he could read her mind, he bent his head closing the distance between their mouths. She could feel his strong arms supporting her and it was a good thing too because the moment their lips met stars exploded behind her closed eyes and her knees gave out. She swooned from this simple chaste kiss. When he pulled his lips from hers, the delicate feeling of their skin sticking seductively together re-kindled the fire stoked by years of fantasies and dedication. She pulled him deeper into her, her nails digging hand-holds into his back as she pulled his body into hers. She could feel that part of him rising, thickening, and it made her want him even more. She was feverish in her need of him, but still the kiss remained chaste. 

Even with her bare flesh against his, he would not give in to her demanding needs. Instead he gently pulled away from her, looked deep into her eyes, his dark browns staring deeply into her after the storm green-blues. The calm before the storm, she thought. One of his hands moved from her back, slowly up across her shoulder-blade to the back of her head, the other, just as gently, pressed against her cheek. His eyes opened a little wider, beseechingly, as if asking her permission; to ask are you certain? She nodded her head, giving him a smile despite the flutter of wings within her stomach. Slowly he moved in, his lips parted ever so slightly. She could feel the moisture of his breath on her lips and in the instant they came together, all thought, all time, all movement, stopped. 

If I could spend one moment for all eternity, this would be it, she thought. Then like a great cosmic inhale, he was within her. His tongue dancing languidly with her own. They breathed each other in, exhaled, and came back for more. The kiss existed outside of time, outside of life and reason, it was a kiss that had always been, would always be. The kiss they shared was so much more than daily squabbles and debates on religion. This kiss, this one singular act of pure unadulterated true love, was destiny incarnate. Her heart swelled and a single tear dropped from her eyes. 

He looked at her, questioningly. I'm just so happy that I have had this time with you, and so sad that it can never be in real life. He shook his head and tried to whisper to her, but she could not make out the words. It was unimportant at the moment. She had decided that if this was the only time she could have him, she would make the most of that time.

She laid him down, her hands trembled before her. She had never seen a man naked before, never thought about what she would do with one when she had the chance. She only knew that she wanted to be perfect for him. In every way. Looking at the 6'2'' man before her, she was beginning to feel overwhelmed. 

What part of herself did she use to please what part of him? Should she start at his feet or at his head? How did this sex thing work? She put her hand on his shin, he shifted beneath her, his chest rising and falling normally. Biting her lip, a sexy nervous habit, she moved her hand up a little. Immediately his hips rose. She gasped in surprise. Eyes widening as he moaned lightly. 

Feeling more confident, she put both hands on his legs and giggled lightly when the hard part of him pulsed hard, standing straight up in the air. He looked down at her, she blushed because her breasts were hanging down and her butt was in the air, but the look in his eyes, that "I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down" look, was electric between her legs. She could feel herself spreading open for him. She moved slowly up his body. Kissing any part of him she wanted to and enjoying his reactions to her. She had contemplated moving hurriedly up his body to get him inside of her but eye-to-eye with his erection, she was suddenly a lot more curious about it and a lot less concerned about rushing to the end. She reached out carefully and touched the swollen tip. It pulsed, moving against her finger seemingly on its own. She giggled again and this time reached out with her whole hand. 

She wrapped her fingers around the thick length of him and marveled at how much remained uncovered. He had to be 8 or 9 inches total and her fingers could barely wrap around him. Suddenly she was concerned that he may not even fit inside her, but she pushed that thought aside and continued to explore him. She leaned in closer, smelling the scent of his skin as her mouth got closer to his steel rod of a dick. She stuck her tongue out and gently licked the head cringing preemptively in case the taste was displeasing. The flavor filled her mouth like an explosion, sweet and light and delicious. 

She giggled once more when she saw the strand of spit stretching from her outstretched tongue to the tip of his demanding dick. She opened her mouth and took the first couple inches of him into her mouth. She worked him lovingly. Her tongue flicking over him gently, lightly licking the slit at the tip, caressing the underside, the sides and top. She was not shy with him any longer. Her spit coated him thickly and she used it as lubricant to help while she pumped her fist up and down his shaft. She could feel herself getting wetter by the moment, the demanding sensations between her legs driving her wild. 

She lowered one hand to her slit, hoping to stifle the desire long enough to sate her hunger of his flavor, to her shock her hand came away soaked with her juices. Had she not known better she would have believed she had peed herself. She sat back, his hips thrusting, begging for her attention once more. She moved up his body, her slit sliding against his skin, she grabbed his length and positioned it at her entrance. No more waiting, she thought.

Jericho awoke to a new sound. The room was dark, no light pouring over the horizon, but he had the distinct feeling that some time had passed. He listened again for the noise and when it once more sounded he realized that it was emanating from his sister. He couldn't believe his ears but if he were hearing correctly then the sound coming from his perfect angelic sister, were moans. Immediately his dick stood straight up. 

Behind the sounds of her moans were a light squishing sound, and beneath that, the feeling of the bed shaking lightly. His eyes widened in surprise as he realized what all this meant. His sister, his perfect, wonderful, naked sister, was currently masturbating in bed beside him. He looked over at her, her eyes were tightly closed so she must still be asleep. But from the way she was going at it, she may not be asleep for much longer. 

He made a move to vacate the bed before she woke up and died from embarrassment at being naked in the room with her brother while playing with herself. As he went to move, she rolled toward him and threw her arm over his chest. Still her hand played and she moaned. He could feel her breath on his neck, goosebumps spreading over his skin. He stifled his own moan as her leg brushed his erection.

"Oh." she moaned, her hips thrusting, her lips parted seductively in the dark of the room. "Mmmmm." she purred. 

"Oh, fu . . . " he started before realizing he could wake her. The smell, he could literally smell the scent of her pussy filling the room. He probably should wake her, but the feelings of her so close to him, of knowing what she was doing were driving him crazy. 

Suddenly, she was moving, her hands on his skin, one sweaty and the other gloriously sticky with her juices. God, she was wet, her hand sliding gloriously up his arm. But nothing, nothing at all could have prepared him for what was coming next.

In the midst of her dream (a wild dream it must be, he thought) she had pulled herself closer to him, her thigh on his erection, and her scorching slit against his thigh. Her breasts pressed fully into him, her hard nipples rubbing against his skin. Her face was inches from his neck and every moan reverberated in his skin. Then she began to move.

He could feel her against him. He didn't know women could even get that wet but her slit was like a wonderful faucet pouring sweet nectar onto his leg.

"More, more." She begged as her hip movements became more suggestive. "Almost there, oh, I have never felt this good before!" She was getting louder, faster, Jericho was afraid that she would wake their parents so he did the only thing he could think. He raise up and pressed his lips to hers just as her climax hit. She moaned into his mouth as her body convulsed against his own. He could feel her pussy squirting against his leg forcefully and the sensation nearly sent him over the edge. He held it back.

As her hip motions calmed, he pulled him mouth slowly from hers. Their mixed saliva connected them until the strand snapped. He laid back down with her in his arms and tried to slow his breathing.

Her eyes still closed she breathed out, "Oh, Jericho!" smiled and went back to sleep. His body tensed up at her words, even though she still seemed asleep. He lifted the sheet and looked down to see what he dreaded. His cum glistening on her body in thick pools. Her words had ripped his orgasm from him with such force there was no way to fight against it.

"Shit." Was all he could say.