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Revelation Ch. 01

By: darkgoddess2478



"Goddamnit, Jenna, children should be seen and not heard. Just shut up! Shut up!" 

Arguments always ended up like this. Children should be seen and not heard. Basically what Anna was screaming at her was to stop telling her things that didn't fit into her nice neat, practical little box she lived in. Everyone in the world should get married, have a little white house with a white picket fence and have two point five kids and a minivan in the driveway. Thinking outside the box was never really Jenna's mother's strong suit. Maybe that was part of the problem. This thought brought a small, smug smile; one Jenna caught too late. 

"Oh, so I suppose you think this is funny? All fun and games, right?" Jenna's father had a gift for stating the obvious. He was obviously delusional. Yes, getting caught in the act with someone was fun and games. Sure it was. Sometimes Jenna really wished she could have shut her mouth. 

"Yea, and all this shit I am going through having to listen to you guys bitch when I have company..." She knew she had said the wrong thing this time. Tom rounded the couch where Jenna was sitting and pressed his face in on hers, dangerously close, within a few centimeters from her nose. 

"Watch your goddamned mouth."

"Yea, that's a good example, dad. Just use language to correct mine. That's going to get through to me." Jenna thought slyly. She laughed out loud at this thought. Sometimes she really wished she could just keep her goddamned mouth shut. 

Her father grabbed her arm and shoved her back toward the basement stairs. "Go down there and tell whoever that is to go home. Right now." 

Now it was Jenna's mother's turn to chime in. "Don't you care about what we will have to deal with at work if this ever got out? Our daughter..." Anna's voice broke. Jenna would have felt bad for her if she could only just see what the problem was. Her parents had never been upset at letting friends sleep over before this, so why was now any different? Jenna yanked her arm away from Tom and walked down the steps. 

"I'll get right on that, dad. I'll tell..."

"Just cut the bullshit, Jenna. Right now." Mother had spoken. Her eyes were even making those little crosses they made when she was really furious. Anna pissed off was NOT Jenna's idea of a good time. Jenna bit her lip and walked half down the stairs. 

"You might want to call your folks and tell them they need to come pick you up. Mom and dad say we can't play anymore." Neither Tom nor Anna found that remark funny. Tom rounded on her again menacingly. 

"We never said anything about your clothing choices or your hairstyle choices or anything else so far, Jenna. But this is most definitely overstepping your bounds. I don't care if you ARE eighteen, you are in my house, you will follow my rules. Now let's go." 

How the hell is my sex life part of their decisions now? I could do whatever I wanted with the body except something natural. 

Her friend gathered everything up, stuffed it in a duffel bag and marched up the stairs, Tom close behind and dragging Jenna behind him, her arm a leash. He acted like if his eyes moved from his target for just a split second, poof!, gone, in a puff of smoke. Then he couldn't have the pleasure of telling someone's parents how bad Jenna was, what a bad child she was. Always getting into trouble and never showing respect for parents who didn't realize that someone with dyed hair and who liked way too much jewelry for her own good was not automatically a bad person. Jenna would never dream of ruining his fun. "Get your coats." His eyes never left the auburn head in front of him. Both grabbed their coats and stuffed their arms through them like they were old laundry. Tom hauled them both out the door but not before Anna could chime in. 

"Tell that little bitch she had better never come back here again."

~*~*~*~

The car rolled down the driveway and into the street, braking rather roughly at stops. Jenna turned and watched Miranda's eyes in the passenger side mirror. They were staring out the window, watching the pavement shimmer by. Jenna had never wanted this to happen. Why tonight? Why did this have to happen to her when she had finally... Her thoughts trailed off as the car slammed to a stop at the stoplight. Jenna kept her eyes locked on the mirror on the side of the car, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of Miranda's eyes. She had to know what she was thinking, how she was feeling. Mostly she didn't want to lose a friend over all of this. She never wanted anyone to know. Their secret, damnit. It was supposed to be their secret. No one was supposed to know. God, what a mess. Why the hell couldn't she have fallen for some girl she didn't care about? Why did it have to be her best friend? 

Miranda's eyes glanced back to where Jenna was watching. She jumped slightly and moved her eyes to look out the windshield. 

Great. This is what she had feared all along. Jenna slid down into the seat and closed her eyes, trying to tune out the dull ache in her chest. 

The car pulled up in front of the house. Jenna unfastened her seatbelt and reached for the door handle. 

"Oh, no. You just sit right there, missy. I will be back to deal with you later. Sit right here in this car and don't you go anywhere." He turned to Miranda. "I'll walk you to your door. I need to talk to your parents, anyway."

~*~*~*~

"Miranda, don't you understand how this can affect us?"

Miranda sat against the arm of the couch, her chin rested on her hand. "No, mom, I can't see why my sex life is any of your concern. I'm eighteen years old. I am graduating this spring. I'm not a child anymore!" 

Her father stepped up to bat. "As long as you live under this roof, everything you do is my business."

"Jerry, please." Miriam soothed. Jerry sank back into his arm chair with a grunt. "Miranda. I know you are curious about sex. But honestly..." she trailed off. There was a long silence. Miranda played rather absently with her hair. 

"Your mother and I could tell you what you need to know about sex, Miranda."

"So just how comfortable are you talking about sex with women, dad? Would you be comfortable talking to your teen daughter and telling her what it feels like to have sex with a woman. And, honestly, dad," she paused, looking for a polite way to answer, "what would you know about lesbian sex anyway?"

"Miranda, do not use that word in my house."

"What word, dad?" Miranda leaned forward, hissing, "Lesbian?" 

"Miranda, please!" Miriam jumped. Her hand flew to her throat and rested there. Miranda could see her heart start again. "We don't seem to be getting anywhere. Miranda, why don't you head to bed, honey. We can talk about all this again after school tomorrow." Miranda stood and headed to the kitchen. Backpack slung over her shoulder, she climbed halfway up the stairs. 

"Jerry, I'm sure this is just a phase she's going through. She'll get it out of her system, I'm sure."

"Yea, mom." Miranda thought. "Keep telling yourself that. You don't know what it feels like to be with her. It's my body. My life. My preference." The thought stuck oddly in her head. It really was a preference. 

"No more friends over. Ever. You can't tell which ones she is... well... and which she's not."

Miranda was glad she wasn't downstairs. Otherwise she might have an off-color remark about guy friends staying over. There would be no threat of her doing anything with them since she was a lesbian. 

"I just wish we had found out sooner. Or another way instead of from Tom and Anna. I wonder what they must be thinking about Miranda. And us."

"Tom seemed to think it was Jenna."

"Jerry, they always think everything is Jenna's fault. That girl has always been an angel when she's been here."

"She is a good kid." Jerry agreed. 

Miranda sighed in relief. At least someone was taking Jenna's side in all this. God knows Jenna's parents had nearly killed her when they had found them. Judging by what her father had said when he walked Miranda to the door, Jenna wouldn't be at school tomorrow. Jenna would be pleased that someone had her back in all this. 

"Besides, Jerry. Can you think of a better girlfriend for Miranda? There are worse girls I can think of."

Miranda almost choked. Was her mother actually going along with all this? If she hadn't already been sitting at the top of the stairs, she would have fallen down them. "And think about it, Jerry. Think of where I was when I was in college. Until I met you..." her voice dropped off in a knowing manner. 

"Yea." Jerry agreed. 

Miranda held her breath. 

"And I have yet to hear you complain. So why should it be any different for our daughter?"

It took a moment for the statement to sink in. Miranda slipped up the stairs and closed the door silently. Too shocked to think, she climbed into bed still dressed, pulled the covers to her chin and lulled off to sleep as her mother's words chanted in her head, "Can you think of a better girlfriend for Miranda? There are worse girls I can think of."

~*~*~*~

"Have you ever wished that you could just lay someone down, cover them in chocolate and lick them until they passed out?"

"Oh, hell yea..." Sarah smiled, glancing across the street as they crossed. "That hot ass football player on the team this year. The freshmen. Oh, God, yes."

Miranda blinked. "Oh. I wasn't talking about men."

Sarah stopped dead in the street. "What?" 

"I wasn't talking about men." Miranda stated matter-of-factly. She turned back to Sarah who was still standing, dumbfounded in the middle of the street. "You'd better cross the street before you get hit."

"You swing that way?" Sarah asked incredulously. "You have to be kidding me." She darted across the street and eyed Miranda from a comfortable distance. "So, are you, like, a lesbian, or what?"

"Or what." Miranda sighed. "Does it bother you?" She was more making a statement than asking a question. Sarah stepped up her pace and skipped up beside Miranda. 

"It doesn't bother me. I just had no idea that you would do that sort of thing."

"You make it sound like I eat slugs for breakfast or something." Miranda stopped and turned on Sarah. "Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like?" Her voice had an edge to it, almost like she was daring Sarah to disagree with her.

"Well, yea. But it is a passing thought." Sarah stammered. 

Miranda's brow furrowed as she stared at Sarah. She turned again and marched off. "Are we getting coffee or not?"

"What's your problem, anyway?" Sarah egged, following Miranda down the street. "You've had a burr up your butt all day long. What's eating you anyway?"

"Maybe it's what hasn't eaten me." Miranda mumbled. 

"What did you say?"

"Nothing." They entered the coffee shop and headed through the shelves and shelves of books to the back counter. Miranda fingered a package of chocolate covered java beans, pondered them for a moment and then tossed them lightly on the counter. "One regular mocha and a chai to go, please." 

"So when did you know, anyway?" Sarah asked, looking with feigned interest at the chocolate beans on the counter. 

"Well, I wasn't too sure until last night." Miranda answered absent-mindedly. 

"So, what, you just suddenly happened upon this grand realization last night when you were..." Sarah stopped in mid-sarcasm and her eyes bulged slightly. "Where the hell is Jenna, anyway?"

"I don't know that I will be seeing her. Ever."

"What are you talking about? What the hell went on last night?"

"Nothing." Miranda answered truthfully, although she wished she really were lying. She looked up over the counter and out the back window behind the girl making her coffee. Her eyes suddenly brightened. "Hey, can we add another chai to this order, please?" Miranda shelled another two fifty over the counter as Jenna strolled into the coffeehouse and pulled her usual chocolate covered java beans from the rack beside the cash register. She stopped as she saw a duplicate package sitting on the counter with the cash thrown haphazardly on the counter. 

Jenna looked up into Miranda's smiling eyes and noticed how pretty she was when she blushed in that baby pink that now stained her cheeks. The same blush that had given them away the night before. Jenna's smile faded and she stared down at her shoes, red streak of hair falling down over her cheek. Miranda tucked it safely back behind Jenna's ear and trailed a finger to her chin. Jenna turned to meet those beautiful brown eyes staring back into her own blue, holding her in an embrace just as real as anything physical ever could have been. It was a look that held the same bittersweet desire as she was sure was showing from behind the short blonde spikes pulled low across her forehead. Miranda still wanted her: still cared for her. The good news was Jenna didn't have to hide what she felt; pretend that nothing had ever happened between them. Miranda felt the same way. The thought hit her hard like someone had planted their fist against the center of her chest.

She felt the same way.

Revelation Ch. 02



I couldn't control my tears. I had shamelessly given in to Robert. I was shaken by a sudden tremor, because I thought I was going to lose my brother. I adored him as my kid brother. 

Papa, on his deathbed, made me promise to take care of Robert until he's old enough to take the responsibility of his life. That solemn oath had formed a deeper bond between us and kindled in me a passionate maternal feel for him. Until now, Robert had been my guide and company in difficult times. Now in this trouble, which concerned him, I had none to talk with. I thought of William. He was the most useless person in this dilemma.

Disheveled and sprawled, I lay on my back. My tears had waned. My t-shirt rode up, showing my curvy midriffs. The white-pleated skirt I wore for the evening rolled up on my thighs. My big, conical breasts were brooding with twisted anticipation. 

After an hour or two, Robert entered my room. He switched on the light. My morose, piercing look failed to diminish his spirit. Sitting at my feet, facing me, he held my right foot and put it on his lap. My handsome brother gazed at me lustfully. 

I was not decent at all. My brother's shameless eyes were making me sexier every moment. He had been staring at my panties. This evening I put the best pair from my generous wardrobe. They were pink, shiny, and silky. They didn't have a lace. But they're a nicely-cut pair of undergarments. They didn't make much contrast with the tone of my thigh muscles. That's why I wore them this evening. 

I, of course, hadn't thought I would open my legs in front of my brother. But the sheer desire he expressed in his diary had made me feel sexy all over. And I couldn't but wore my best panties and best, matching bra, just to feel erotic. 

The panties felt good, especially on my ass, because of their satiny smoothness. My clitoris became extra sensitive under their silky friction and it was almost oppression for my love-bud as I was being aroused. The crotch was still dry, but hot and humid. 

Under the stroke of my brother's gentle hands on my feet, my entire body was radiating the heat of desire. I felt it in my armpits. I felt the heat of my breaths on my cheeks. 

I was most aware of my genitals: their sweet throbbing under my brother's lustful eyes. Yes, the mark of the first patch of my secretion was there, on my silk panties. 

A wicked spirit enticed me to behave wickedly. I wanted to shed shyness. I wanted to act like an erotic goddess and took my brother along the course of my perversion. I wanted to give him the best of my sisterly and maternal self, the tenderest erotic pleasure I could muster. I would dance naked if it pleased him. I'd talk dirty. I'd be bitchy. Because he would give me his virginity. 

Aha. The thought of his virginity, my pussy tunnel around his virgin cock, made me hotter. I gave mine to William who had given his to a distant aunt who had raped him when he was 13. I wished I had been a virgin myself, for my brother: his touch on my virgin nipples, on my virgin sex. 

It was not possible. What could I do? I would compensate for the lack of my virginity with my experience. The young poet wouldn't want to fuck a shy girl. He needed an experienced one. The boy who had red Odyssey and Iliad and all the novels by D. H. Lawrence and Iris Murdoch and who dreamed Lady Lamb's pubic hair in Lord Byron's tiffin box mustn't have had his life's first hug from a banal virgin. Yes, he'd get what he deserved. "Has William ever told how beautiful are you, Anja?" My brother said. His agile fingers crawled on my feet and spiraled across my toes. "See," he said, "how soft and shapely your heel is." 

"This is not decent, baby. To invite your sister's heel to embrace your penis," I smirked and pressed my heel onto his growing manhood which agitated from across his jeans. His concealed organ seems to have no limit. 

We were making the same effort. Trying to see inside of each other's. I knew what he was thinking was not much different from my thoughts. We were thinking of a life-long relationship, of forming a domestic couple, we were considering marriage, children, society. As if we were old lovers. I couldn't but laugh that this new course of our relation was sparked off by the sight of a pair of my panties. 

The solid muscles on my brother's chest and arms were pushing against his shirt. I'd never seen my brother happier. He's looking at the naked parts of my body. He was not trying to hide the blush of his anticipation as he was gazing at my breasts. 

I fell prey to a sudden temptation to uncover my breasts. I was positively troubled that my personality was sexually responding to Robert's overture. My nipples straightened as a reaction to his stare. The hollow of my navel cringed and the soft muscles around it quivered. A whispering air wafted on my naked thighs. I was no less happy than my brother.

"Sis, I have never thought I would get you," Robert said, stroking my calf muscles. "The night outside is serenading my love for you. Don't fidget on it, Anja. I understand how troubled you are. I am taking -- from now on until my death -- the responsibility of all your troubles, including the present one, on my shoulders." 

Robert's shoulders were broad and strong. He flexed them fatherly. He had achieved this easy way of synchronizing all his words with his body. In the past I had been protective of him and never thought of my own protection. Now Robert was making my worries disappear with his knightly presence. He was reviving -- or just giving life to the hidden woman in me -- the feminine self which was hidden under my sisterly and motherly responsibilities as an older sibling. 

William had never kindled this kind of feel in me. It's a shame that I had to compare Robert with William, who could, at best, be a dream-groom to only an ambitious careerist woman whose entire tenderness was squandered for the favor of the superior people, leaving nothing for her man except her disused womanhood. Robert surpassed every young man in our little town in every way: personality, physical structure, health, education, and maturity. My father entertained himself with Wordsworth. Robert could recite half of Keats' and Shelley's poetry from memory. Robert's world was without limit or horizon. It's pity that he was craving me as his woman. 

'What if someday he finds me unworthy of him, like other girls, with no depth, no inclination to finer things like poetry.' I sudden fear jolted my feminine soul. 

William would come to me only to fuck, because he'd not learned to masturbate. Now it was clear that he was after me only to take care of his groins, to calm his hard penis with whatever provisions my impromptu womanhood could produce. The rest of his body had no want, no response, so it could not satisfy my need for love. Now Robert, my brother, was here, ready to satisfy my need for love. The doors to the hidden caves in the depth of my heart were opening. I was afraid to expose them to Robert. 

"Robert," I retorted. "What made you think that you have got me? You have got me, but only as your sister. You may also take note of the fact that you have got your mother in me. That's the way I have been taking care of you. I am not much older than you, yet I have a deep maternal feel for you. But how come have you thought that you have got me as your lover only because that you have sucked on a pair of my discarded panties and taken custody of a strand of my pubic hair?" 

I gasped for air after this polemic. Robert was agitated. I hurt him. 

"Anja," he whined. "Do you know how you have been behaving since the afternoon? You have been behaving like a confused teenager. By now you should know that we are predestined to be lovers. I am younger, so you should lead me. What you are doing is unbecoming of a mature lady who claims to be protective of me with maternal consciousness. I didn't expect you to read my diary. Now that you have read, now that you know my infatuation, you can't escape me. You don't know how I felt when I was out this evening. Aha, sis. This is love. No matter this love is for my sister, an utterly wrong person. But this is love which commands this world, which burns in heaven and freezes in hell. If only you knew how I felt about everything, how the streets slid under my feet, how the crackle of leaves in the trees levitated me, how my heart became liquid of an ocean in my chest. I shed some drops of tears for those who do not have what I have: a sister like you. Yes, this is how I got you. I got you in my love and it is eternal. You don't have the right to dismiss me, Anja. The ecstatic feel I had outside this evening is worth my life: now either that feel is nourished or I lose my life. There is only one way that feel can be nourished and that way is your requital of my love. Otherwise, I'll kill myself. The only thing I don't know how many people will I kill, how much life and property will I destroy, before I destroy myself. Your calm, temperate brother has died. He will revive if only you reciprocate his love." 

My brother was an orator. I had always been a strong girl. He now made me a mess of jelly with his soliloquy. I had never seen him in such a tumultuous state. He was torn between his craving for me and fear of unattainability of his craving. He, therefore, wanted to attain it be sheer force of expressing his feel for me. 

I was scared. It was love, I thought, that made me brood so much. I could easily deal with this unforeseen trouble in my life. I could threw my garments, opened my legs, pour a bottle of olive-oil in my cunt, and ask Robert to satisfy his need as many times as he could. Then when he needed me no more, he could forget the whole drama. But I knew Robert. It would have been as much an insult to him to fuck his sister like a whore or use her cunt one or two times as it was to me to be a one-time whore for my brother. Like Robert, I had valued love above everything. Now defying all bitterness, my body and mind was awaiting a fuck with love by my brother. I could not deny the response of my body. 

Robert resumed stroking my foot. His treatment was mature and affectionate. The response of my body to my brother's touch was fast and severe. My hips quivered. I had no more strength or will to dispel him. My heart accepted the fact without disgrace that the imminent need of my brother's love for me was my sex. I must say that my sex had been throbbing since the beginning of this confrontation. At this point, seeing my brother's need for it, my sex began to agitate like it had never done. My toes, with red nail-polish, beckoned at him. As he drew my foot further on, a hollow formed at my thighs, through which he had a glimpse of my panties. My pink panties, richly glossy, and silky, were now patched like the shadows of mountain-clouds with the secretion of my submission. 

"I'm the virgin, not you, Elder Sister," Robert mocked, gathering confidence from my blushes. 

"I'm the street whore, not you, Robert," I simpered. 

Contrary to my assumption, my statement kicked my brother erotically. His distending manhood became semi-hard. He splayed my feet gently, to get a better view of my panties. When the entire crotch came to his view, he gathered my feet and slid my heel, up and down, along his cock. He adroitly squeezed his manhood with my heel. 

My breasts throbbed and swelled and the cups of my tight bra squeezed my gourds of pleasure. My nipples got extra-thick. I looked at him meekly, and pushed my other foot on his lap. I slid my ankle on his jeans and felt the strength of his muscle. 

He'd seen his sister's wet crotch. His nose flared because he's getting the aroma of my arousal. I closed my thighs, as if I was trying to hide a treasure. The movement of my sisterly limbs charged Robert with heightened wantonness. His eyes grew more lustful. He drove his hands until the naked parts of my thighs. He was not yet touching the softest parts of my thigh muscles. Yet his touch felt heavenly on my naked flesh. 

Staring at him coquettishly, I hiked my skirt to the root of my legs. I gathered my skirt in a mess and covered my wet panties. 'Enjoy boy, enjoy the smooth skin of your sister's legs,' I muttered in my chest. My breasts were distended with my suppressed whisper. 

He stroked my thighs. He didn't try to encroach on one millimeter more than what I had exposed for him. I liked the gentle way of his kneading my smooth skin. 

I wanted to control the beginning of our degeneration. I raised my left leg. I crawled my feet over his belly, onto his chest. I touched his chin with my toes. I drew my toes, gently, along his lips. I poked his mouth with my big toe. It entered his receptive mouth. The pad of my toe pushed against his hot tongue.

"You boys are like dogs, bro. Suck on my toe and show me how much you love me." I smirked. 

Robert's mouth was hot and wet against my toe. His eyes became narrow. I was rejuvenated by his humiliation. This was what I wanted. I took my foot out of his mouth but not before I again caressed his lips with it. 

Laughing loud, I jumped onto him. I lay on him, covering him as much as I could. With careful movement, I gathered my skirt on my waist and pushed my wet, pantied crotch onto his groins. A button of his shirt poked my naked navel. I squeezed my breasts into his chest so that he could feel them to the maximum. 

I took his one hand and pushed it into my t-shirt until his fingers touched the fuzz on my left armpit. I took his other hand and pushed it onto my right armpit. 

"You like my pubic hair." I whispered. "The hair under my arms are softer."

His fingers raked the hair in my armpits. A thousand kinky things came to my mind. But I listened to my instinct and decided to go slowly. 

Robert looked grimly at me as if I was going to fuck him immediately. I raised my head and gazed at him lovingly. It was good for me that I was in control of the situation. 

"If you are to be my lover, my dear brother, you have to fulfill all my wishes. I'm a naughty girl, but William has never allowed me anything. You have to be naughty with me. If you don't think you have the spirit for it, it's better we give up here. But if you want me to continue to be your girl, I will be very demanding. Promise me, brother, promise to satisfy your sister's kinky mind." 

Robert responded positively to my urge, by lurching erotically, and pulling my wisps. I overwhelmed him with my lithe, feminine body. The big boy Robert, he was six feet, became meek and accommodative. His eyes shone with gentle submission. 

My maternal feel had never been tenderer for him. "You have never kissed baby, have you?" I asked, because I knew Robert had never kissed any girl. "Believe me, brother, I have never kissed with love. I have stopped kissing William for a long time." 

Robert's lips trembled. He had fine, red lips, not as full as mine, but they were delicate and sexy. My lips were dark pink while his were red. 

I wetted my lips with my tongue. "Do as I do, baby. Wet these sexy lips," I said, touching his lips with my index finger. "Your sister will kiss you." 

When he went to comply, I stopped him. "I'll do it myself, baby bro," I said. 

Leaning lovingly, adoringly, I set my lips along my brother's. His breathing was shallow and hot like vapor which wafted on my nose and face. I flexed gently my full lips and pressed on him gently, letting him have his time to feel my softness. 

The young poet's body quivered under my feminine torso. His happy moans stiffened my already hard nipples. My pussy walls released warm nectar which seeped through my panties onto the crotch of his jeans. 

He tried to kiss me back. But I outmaneuvered him. I took his lower lip between mine and kissed it with abandon. I slid my crotch up and down to give his hard manhood a taste of my soft groin. 

My brother's lip was fresh, smooth, and spongy. I had never kissed a guy so passionately. As my body was arousing with my sloppy kiss on my brother's lip, the residue of inhibition about incest died out and I forgot that the heavenly debauchery had began only today, instigated by a literature the sight of a pair of my panties had inspired in my younger sibling in the morning after I had left for work. 

"I'm in heaven, Sis. I can't tell you how good you feel on me or your lips against mine. I don't know of a woman to compare with you: lithe, lively, fresh, and fragrant." Robert breathed in my neck and into the hair on my neck. "I'm achingly hard, sis. Please don't hump anymore." 

I felt his hardness and I knew what he meant. My brother could discharge any time. 

I sloppily kissed his right ear. "Am I too hot for you, baby bro?" I whispered, probing my tongue into his ear, wetting the interior with my hot saliva. "If I'm too hot for you, why don't you kiss me?" 

I tilted over him and offered him my lips, grinning coquettishly. My brother drew my head over him and took both my lips with his. He kissed them, first gently, as if I'd be hurt. But as moments passed, his kiss became more demanding. He took both my lips inside. I felt his teeth against my lips, which touched his gums, which felt very good against my receptive lips. With sloppy, swiveling movement of his boyish lips, my brother began to savor my juicy oral labia. 

My brother's cock prodded onto my crotch, defying three barriers that separated us: his underwear and jeans and my panties. I had never been kissed like this as I had never kissed anybody with such passion. 

I died for penetration into my pussy by his cock. With sheer willpower I stopped my beastly desire from tearing our clothes for a wild fuck. I decided against it, because I wanted Robert to kiss me with all the attention he could muster. He nibbled at my lips from both sides as if they were the sweetest candies in the town. I was so hot that my pussy lips opened and closed against my panties like the mouth of a fish out of water. 

Robert's kissing was as much special to him as it was to mine, for the same reason: mine were the first pair of lips my brother was kissing. He did not seem to finish with them for next one hundred years. He was savoring their soft, moist texture, drawing sexual feel from all the art and poetry he had learned, nibbling, pushing, pulling, probing, wetting them with his tongue, suppressing whimpers and moans of appreciation of the feminine taste of my lips in his mouth. Every second he was infusing me with new excitement as he was devouring my soft, full lips. The joy of being kissed like this exposed me to some discreet humane feel and I wished for all the sexy sisters of the world such pleasure by their horny brothers. 

"Will you be this demanding all your life, Robert?" I asked, disengaging my well-treated lips, in an attempt to express my love for him and my satisfaction to his adulation. 

My brother stared at me adoringly, as if I was his goddess mother. The poet in him was searching for some suitable response but his whole being became dumbfounded with the beauty and charm of his sister's arousal which washed over my face, my whole body, with a red, constant blush. I fell in love with him at the sight of his two adorable, grateful eyes. At the same moment, I pledged to become the lifelong beloved of my sexy brother; my body, my sex, my breasts, my feminine heart all would belong to him. As a gesture of my pledge, I slid my crotch over his -- to give him another spell of taste of my soft, wet groin -- and attacked him with a wild, feminine kiss. 

This time I gave him my tongue, steadily probing between his teeth into his receptive mouth. The first thing I tasted inside my brother's mouth was the mint of his banana-flavored chewing-gum. I snaked my agile tongue round his. His tongue was bigger, stronger; I found it extremely hot and sexy. 




Revelation Ch. 02



In a few minutes my brother lashed at the flat of my tongue with his, as if he needed the taste of my taste buds, which opened and released copious juices for my brother, who hungrily, sloppily drank my fluid like a thirsty dog. I kept humping on his crotch with appreciation. My brother reciprocated with sexy, suppressed moans, which took the degree of my arousal to the next level. 

Inspired by my brother's languid exploration of my oral orifice, I invented a generous way of giving him my tongue for his enjoyment. I loosened my tongue inside his mouth, relaxed it, made my oral digit extremely soft -- despite the state of that ecstatic thrill -- and embraced his tongue with all my softness like a baby octopus. It was my brother's first taste of a girl's tongue, and I wanted him to find it sweet and sexy. 

At every point, my brother proved that he was gentle, idyllic, and persistent in enjoying the taste of anything I offered from my feminine bounties; he would go for a piece of my feminine flesh forever, without expecting the next, while I had so much to give him. An orgasm began to flap its wings inside the different parts of my body, especially inside my pussy, around my clitoris and g-spot, inside my breasts, along my thickened nipples, in the fluttering of my anus. I increased the friction of my pantied cunt against his crotch and moved my breasts to and fro on his chest. In response, he increased his suction on my supple tongue. His sucking was eager, but not brutal, although I would not have minded a little brutality at that height of my arousal. 

Soon my brother made a guttural sound, his whole body jerked under me, he clasped me around my back, crashing my smothered breasts on his chest. He was sucking my juicy tongue and drinking from it like a wayward camel which had got an oasis after long wandering. 

It was too much for my over-sexed brother. Hot wetness seeped through his jeans and touched my naked thighs. At first I thought it was my own secretion. Robert had relaxed his grip on my mouth and slumped his head languidly on my neck. A few seconds had elapsed when he gazed at me timidly; his sex on which I was vigorously sawing my loins dumped a little. I needed time to understand that my brother had an orgasm, while still fully clothed, only sucking his sister's sexy tongue and drinking its juices. 

My brother's sunken face was cute and boyish. He must've had thought he'd fuck my brains out and brought me five or six orgasms before he enjoyed his virgin life's first climax. His crestfallen eyes rekindled my maternal feel for him. If in such a moment he ever called me mother, or mom, I'd have an orgasm. Only thinking of him calling me mom opened the new gates in the well in my nether parts which held my pussy juices, whose new waves seeped through my sodden panties. Raising my head, looking at him admiringly, I smiled at him protectively. My aim was to inject some spirit into him. He grinned heartily. I fell in love with him once again. 

"Thank you, Sis," he said. 

"For what?" I quipped. 

I sat in front of his adoring eyes and took off my t-shirt. In an attempt to bind my hair in a ball, I showed him my armpits. I had been dying to show him the red wisps under my arms since the beginning of this debauchery when I knew how much had he been thrilled by a strand of my pubic hair. I was by now covered in a thin sheet of perspiration. My brother was greedily breathing in my air. The atmosphere was hot, humid, and sexy. 

"For what?" I asked again, sexily thrusting out my heavy, bra-covered breasts. 

"For a very un-sisterly kiss," he said. 

"What kind of kiss was it, Stud?" I said, beckoning my brother's lust-filled eyes with my delicate arms. 

"Grand-motherly." 

I stuck out my tongue in mock indignation. My intention was to show him my tongue, all of it, which he'd so ravenously loved. I opened my legs and showed him how sodden my panties were. I tilted my head and kissed him sloppily. 

"A brief sisterly kiss," I said, releasing his lips. 

I began to undress my brother. He had an orgasm. I had none. My impatience to take my brother's cock into my pussy was killing me. "Be a man, little bro," I said. "Your sister will undress you." 

I took off my brother's shirt. Two tiny, red nipples stuck out through netted black hair from his chest. I touched them with the tip of my finger. I wetted my finger in my mouth and touched his left nipple with it. I twisted his nipple, swiveling my finger across his areole. My brother moaned in pleasure. He gazed at me with a lustful smile. 

"Thank you sis," he said. "Everything you do is perfect. It was beyond my imagination that you will do all these for me?" 

"What am I doing, Mister?" I said, pinching his nipple. I flushed my bra-covered breasts at him, and looked at him raising my sex-laden eyes. My brother was enjoying his elder sister's naughty action and I couldn't but opened my thighs and showed him the wetness on my panties, which beckoned at him with my obscene movement. 

"You are bringing me hundred dreams, sis. I'm dreaming this moment, but this dream is more than reality. I can savor your scent, I'm getting your touch. I can look at you. Ah, Anja, if only you knew, how beautiful you are." 

My eyes filled in tears hearing my brother's sentiment. We had never been this intimate It came over to me that love in arousal is the deepest of all love. I jumped onto Robert and kissed him, full mouth, wetting his face, eyes, and temple with the saliva of my aroused body, searching for sensation in the corners of his lips, in the grooves of his eyes. "You are a very, very bad brother, Robert." I sobbed. "To make your sister cry like this." 

Robert took my face in his hands and gazed at my tearful eyes. "Such sparkling eyes none have ever seen," he said, and kissed my eyes. My body shook with an inside tremor as Robert drank my hot tears, searching more on the lids and corners of my closed eyes with his burning tongue. It was an unbelievably mature act. My brother was rapidly turning into an experienced lover without even experiencing his cock inside a girl's vagina. 

I was shaking visibly. With love and lust, my brother made me so hot that I could hardly wait to take his cock in my aching girlhood. I unbuckled his belt and slid down his jeans with his underwear along his robust thighs. In front my hungry, aroused eyes was my brother's naked body. In his nakedness, my brother was the most handsome man I could ever imagine; his muscles were toned like a shiny steal-wall against sunlight. I had no patience to look at the rest of his handsome feature since my eyes were glued to the sight of the sexiest cock in our entire white race. 

It was not yet very fully hard. A glob of his semen was losing shape through a sieve made by a bunch of his pubic hair at the upper base of his large sack. I had never tasted a man's semen. Yet new supply of fluid welled up in my mouth at the site of the white cream of my brother's discharge. Throbbing against gravity, against the shame of being naked in front of his sex-hungry sister, his cock was steadily raising its bulbous head, the size of a ripe peach. My nipples, my clitoris, the lips of my pussy flapped, as I hungrily stared at his rising manhood. 

"Your dazzling eyes," my brother explained the cause of stir in his manhood. 

My fingers trembled as I went to hold it with my right hand. I feared it'd be no more there if my wicked hand touched it. That moment it was the most precious thing in my world. It agitated with some spasmic jolts as my hand surrounded it and my girlish palm lodged on the rear side. The wet patches of his orgasm felt soothing under my burning palm. 

Robert gazed at his sister's loving hand encircling his agitated organ as I tried and failed to touch the longer of my fingers with my thumb around it. His face got new hues of pleasure as I tightened my grip around his fuck-organ. 

The feel inside my body was beyond description. I felt like falling on him and eating his angry organ raw, cutting the hard meat with my sharp teeth. I became a wicked, sex-crazed woman at the touch of my brother's virile sex. I could no more endure my bra and panties on me. I wanted to show him how every moment my nipples and my clitoris and my cunt-lips were lurching and churning as his cock kept distending in my fist. 

I unhooked my bra with my left hand and threw it away. My encaged breasts dived into freedom with a few jiggles. 

Robert was not ready to see his sister's breasts so early. He was dumbfounded at their liveliness and beauty. My nipples had a tapered shape. They stood hard and were pointed toward him. 

"See baby, look at your sister's naked breasts to your heart's content." I encouraged Robert. 

A clear pool of pre-cum dropped on my index finger from the opening of his penis which stood up inside my caressing fist. I gathered the rest of the oozing pre-cum from his cock-head with my thumb and smeared it around his cock's sensitive underside. 

"Anja baby," Robert said. "I can't wait any more?" 

"So can't I," I said. "Very soon you will fuck your sister." 

"No, sis. I didn't mean it. I said I can't wait to touch your breasts. I have never seen anything so beautiful. I can't tell you how much it thrills me to know that these heavenly orbs belong to my own sister, who cares about me."

Robert didn't wait for my permission. He leaned toward me and took each of my breasts in his each hand. My toes curled in electric shock at the confident touch of my brother around my globes of pleasure. I tightened my grip around his cock and my torso convulsively tilted toward him. I kissed Robert as he adroitly dabbed my nipples into my areoles with his thumbs. 

"You sexy man," I cooed into his right ear and took his ear inside my mouth and sucked on it. 

"You made me sexy, Anja," Robert said. "I knew nothing about sex. I never thought I could be so confident with it. If it were another girl, I would slump with naivety. But with my sister, I feel at home. I feel spirited. It seems so natural to explore sex with you, Sis." 

"You are welcome, Baby," I said. 

Robert was exploring my breasts like two hills of precious treasure inside a mysterious cave under the sea. He was measuring them against his hands, weighing them up again and again, and pulling them down to see how they defy the gravity. I made a mistake not having let him fuck me for my orgasm. Had I done it, I could have savored his exploring ministration of my sensitive gourds for long time. Every time he clasped them for his pleasure, my breasts sent electric shocks to the door of my passion inside which a blind, protracted orgasm was trying to detonate itself. 

The state of my clitoris was miserable. From so much friction against my silken panties, it was almost sore. I could no more wait for the final act, the long craved fuck, the forbidden act between siblings. Yet his adoration of my body was so good and tempting that I could not ask him to abandon the heavenly foreplay for penetrating my pussy tearing my panties with his formidable boy-cock, which was by now as hard as a polished ramrod. My brother was taking advantage of his orgasm while I was facing a too-pleasant dilemma. 

"Baby, I need to cum," I said, huskily, into my brother's ear. The bastard seemed content with my breasts. I had never known a boy's hands could be so agile, so artistic while touching a woman's tits. Every millimeter of my breasts got at least one bout of adoring rubdown from my brother's hands and fingers, now shaking them to and fro, now pressing inward, then squeezing them onto one another, then pulling the entire globes, then pulling only the nipples, then twisting them, then pinching them. Any man would have put his mouth on them by now. I wondered why he hadn't done it yet. Later on, he said that he craved to suck them and he had to fight with himself not to do so, because he was so charmed with their beauty that his desire to enjoy their sight was much stronger. 

Unfortunately for him, I did not allow him to manipulate my large breasts for a long time. I wouldn't have said what I said, pulling his face holding his hair with my free hand, if I had known his mind: "You bastard, a woman's breasts are not meant only to be kneaded like a baker's dough but also to be sucked, as a child does his mother's when she suckles him. You must kiss her nipples, chew them like chocolate candies, or she will kick your butts and never again you will be allowed near her naked self."  

My outburst was not as much from anger as it was from frustration. A woman is supposed to be enduring in a game of sex. But I failed my natural temperament because I was so much in happiness that I could endure it no more without bursting off with a clitoral climax. 

"It's sexy hearing you call me bastard," my brother said and laughed heartily. 

I felt good, but slightly repentant, for being unnecessarily harsh. I forced a smile which ultimately turned into convulsive hilarity. Still holding a fistful of his lush black hair, I drew his face onto my one breast. The bridge of his nose crashed my nipple. 

My brother did not need any more encouragement. Half of my left breast was inside his devouring mouth. God gifted me two large orbs; otherwise he would have swallowed the entire of it. He was mauling the other breast very unkindly as he kept sucking on the one inside his mouth. So powerful was his suction that a thin vapor seemed to be milked from my aroused nipple. 

"Suck, brother, suck your sister's breasts. Suck them as if you are sucking your mother's tits." 

My brother's mouth became more possessive. I knew I would cum soon. I did what I thought I'd do in the future, not in our first copulation. I took his free hand and drove it inside my sodden panties. I wanted him to finger-fuck me before the suppressed orgasm barking inside my body erupted shattering my sexual entity. 

My brother attacked my other breast with his mouth with wilder fervor. This time he ravished my entire breast for several minutes and then concentrated on my nipple. The bastard's -- as it was with my brother, the word 'bastard' kicked my sexual nerves every time I thought or pronounced it -- lips had not appeared so strong when he kissed my lips. My fragile nipple was crashed between his lips which he tightened into two miniature cocks in arousal; at least it seemed so to my brazen nerves. 

Knowing how much he'd like my thicket, I moved his wide palm on my entire garden, making him feel every strand separately, pushing his fingers against the ringlets of my curly pubic bush. I enjoyed his manly palm and fingers raking my orchard and guided his two fingers so that they held my entire clitoral dune between them. With my other hand I re-took in my grip his hard penis which had slipped out of my hand in the beginning of euphoria brought by his slobbery suckling of my breasts. 

Pairing both the acts like a solemn harmony, his cock in my fist and my clitoris between his fingers, I said hotly in his ear, "Honey, you must know that what you have taken between your fingers is your sister's clitoris. It is my feminine replica of your manhood but unlike your manhood which stands for your power and strength, my clitoris is tiny and weak, but it surpasses everything, even your mighty king-cock, in passion. You must understand your sister's clitoris before you wish to fuck her." 

My brother snapped at the tip of my clitoris with the tip of his finger, generating electric shocks in my body that seemed to set fire on the wisps in my armpits. He was still chewing on my nipple, now gently, as if trying to cure the soreness engendered by his previous mad attack on it. I left his hand inside my panties to explore my femininity at his own will. 

I drowned my free right hand in the mass of his black hair and stroked it, raking and combing, with maternal tenderness, as I enjoyed his lips' and tongue's worship of my sensitive nipple, wet with his hot saliva. "I'm yours, Robert," I whispered into his ear. "I'm yours to love and fuck."

My brother's hand inside my panties palmed my pussy and clitoris, groping the entire cunt-mound with his fist. The entire region was sloppy and slippery like the surface of a swamp, so much wet was I with my hot secretion. He was enjoying the soft feel of my labia against his palm. 

"Put a finger along the slit," I urged into his ear. 

My brother was an obedient lover. His finger did not stay along my long slit for long, but dumped a few millimeters across my unfurled labia. I knew how soft I felt against his finger. He invited more fingers to worship the soft touch of my pussy. I groaned as one finger found its way along the tunnel of my love hole. 

Scared, my brother withdrew, disheartening me. But I was consoled soon as he began to separate my lips with his fingers. "Incredible, Sis," he said releasing my nipple from his mouth. "I have never known this thing could be so soft. I have seen it in print, but never any pussy seemed to be capable of so soft." 

"This usually is not," I said, pushing simultaneously my cunt against his hand and my other breast into his open mouth. "Even mine was never so soft, baby. It's only because of you. It's soft because it's got your loving touch. A girl wants his man's adoration. The more worshipping are your touches, the softer is her pussy for you. I'm soft because I'm as horny as no girl has ever thought of. I myself have never thought a girl's arousal could be this intense, this ecstatic. Now shove one finger inside and explore the passage with it as you would like to do with your cock when in good time it will take place of your finger. I'll be in heaven." 

My brother began to finger-fuck my over-aroused pussy. After several minutes, he was fucking me with three fingers. He was sucking my breasts, one at a time, toggling from one to another at right moments. I was nearing the gate of heaven. The long-suppressed orgasm will erupt. It'll not burn Pompei. It'll baptize my brother's fingers. Aha, how happy I was.



Revelation Ch. 03



(Robert and Anja's first bout of bodily love continues.)

*

It was, perhaps, my life's first real orgasm. In many fucks by William, I had, of course, some orgasms, although I had not as many as he did, because William's cock often slumped after premature discharge, leaving me at the threshold; often my body did not respond at all to his insensitive thrusts which brought him quick relief. 

Only my ravaged pussy had any concern in making an orgasm with William's cock. Now, with Robert, with my heart-throb brother, my entire body -- I was gifted with a lush body, not fat but luxuriant and healthy, with sensual curves and tones -- had been engaged in producing the thunderous climax. 

In the wake of my post-orgasmic bliss, I dragged my body along my brother's, caressing his masculine organization with my soft, sweaty skin. As I maneuvered upon him, my sisterly breasts grazed along his ribcage. My nipples, aroused to their full tapered shape, bathed in his perspiration. My sweat-soaked erect nipples sucked up intense pleasure from my brother's body, grazing along his hairy chest. 

Robert wiggled to the distinct feel of my aroused nipples. His raging manhood pricked the dimple of my navel, which I thrust into him provocatively. Hovering upon Robert, I grinned wickedly. I attacked his mouth with a feverish, grateful kiss, for bringing me the blissful orgasm. 

My brother reciprocated with a devilish smile. He touched all over my back. I shivered as he stroked my wet skin. He left traces of my cum on my skin from his fingers, which had fucked my pussy. 

"Baby, you seem to have won a kingdom." I snickered. "What happened to you?" 

"Something very bad happened to me," he said. "I touched my sister's pussy." 

"You think you have only touched her pussy, you haven't fucked her yet?" 

I hit his hairy chest and pinched his nipples. He wiggled at my feminine touch on his equally sensitive nipples. I had the urge to smash his tiny nipples between my pouted lips. Robert's movement stirred my breasts pleasantly and stirred my latent arousal. With my free hand, I held his cum-soaked hand and drew it between our eyes. 

Robert's three middle fingers were coated with my essence. I could smell myself on his fingers. I asked him how his fingers were coated with my cream until their last knuckles if he had only touched my pussy with them. 

"You have fucked your sister with your tall, sexy fingers," I said, lightly kissing them. 

The fingers left some trace of my own cum on my lips. 

My brother breathed deeply. I was not sure if he was hesitant about my perfume. He was trying to be acquainted with his sister's scent, but I was not sure if he liked it. 

"Breathe in deeply, Honey," I urged, pushing the cum-soaked fingers across his nostrils. "Fill up the chambers of your lungs with the air of your sister's pussy. Try to feel it as the scent diffuses in your blood and runs from limb to limb. If you like it, you will like no other scent. If you like it, you will dip your fingers in my honey-pot and sprinkle my perfume on your earlobes as you do now with Bvlgari scents. If you don't like it, you will hate it most. If you hate the female scent, your life will be doomed. You will be condemned to living your life without the touch of a woman. The good thing is that you can learn to like it. Another good thing is that my juices are aromatic. If you start liking it, if the aroma registers in your senses, you will not only love me more, you will love life better. If you don't like it, you will never enjoy sex. But, Honey, you are enjoying sex with me, aren't you? See, how you squirm as my breasts massage your muscles. Don't you see how your cock lurches in search of your sister's nest?" 

I wanted to turn Robert into a sexual demon. I rolled every word out of my tongue distinctly, tantalizing him. My brother was under the charms of my maternal tenderness. 

Robert gazed at my slutty face and listened to me with rapt attention, all the time inhaling deeply. It was obvious that he started liking my scent. I pushed his fingers across his nostrils. 

I was thrilled, because at last, my brother was bequeathing his sense of smell with the perfume of my sex. I didn't want to rush with my kinky charms. I knew that my brother was still a virgin, was new to the feminine world. I wanted to make sure that he was ready to explore the hedonistic pleasure in his sister's mental and sexual backyard. I shared my scent with my brother, took each aromatic puff with deep, distinct inhalation, showing my brother how to savor the scent of female sex. 

"Do you like it, honey, as much as I do?" I asked protectively, sawing one cum-soaked finger across his nostrils, looking deeply into his eyes. 

Robert gazed at my face. His emerald eyes sparkled. It was exhilarating to see my brother enjoying my feminine countenance in my aroused state. His enjoyment of my beauty affected his entire face; his eyes radiated a halo that hovered about him. 

"I'm not sure if I like it," he said. "You know I have brilliant imagination, but practically I'm a novice. I need time. What I like most of all is your being so tender with me. If an angel comes here and shows me God's paradise, I will still prefer the one that is shading me head to toe; that paradise is my sister's soft, feminine body. I crave to be covered and embraced by you like this all the nights that I will live. My sister, please never ever leave me alone or hurt my feel. I have this feel that I need to worship you at sunrise and sunset to live a meaningful life." 

Robert's eyes were moistened. His passion penetrated my heart and choked my voice. Any girl would have been turned into his slave forever had he expressed such love to her. He was more concerned about my love and protection than he was about my sex. The heartfelt expression of his need for me as his life-long woman pervaded my heart and made me feel my worth as a person. This feel was much more sublime than if he had liked my scent firsthand. 

Had I been moved the half by William's or anybody else's love, I would have been a faithful mistress to that guy for life. Robert was not William, nor any other person; Robert was superior in human and mental capacities to any other man or boy I had known. The only problem was that Robert was my brother and I was his chaperon. This fact brought so many worries to my mortal psyche while it rendered my love for him incredibly heavenly. 

I couldn't wait to show him my appreciation of his love and adoration. Like an automated machine, I took one cum-soaked finger of my brother inside my mouth. I was not sure if I had done it for just teaching him to like my scent or to show him my appreciation of his love. 

Robert's finger tasted exotic. I had never had an opportunity to suck a man's finger which had dipped in my pussy. I was enjoying the impromptu kinkiness with all my senses. The taste of his finger coated with my feminine secretion was sweeter than any natural honey. I sucked the digit sexily, using my tongue, and wetting it with my saliva, then slurping, all the time looking into his eyes. It was amazingly indulging to lie naked except for my panties over my brother's athletic body and explore new avenues of my sexuality. My brother released a soft whimper in stimulated bliss at the touch of my sexy tongue and the soft inside of my cheeks against his finger. 

"You liked, Baby?" I asked, releasing the finger from my mouth. 

"You are incredible, sis," he said.

"Why, bro?" I said, dabbing the well-sucked finger on the softness of my lips. "Is it because I have done your task?" 

"What's my task?" he retorted.

"When a girl is kind to cum on your fingers, you must be kind to suck those fingers clean, so that she knows you love her. But the problem with you is that you still don't know whether you like the flavor and taste of your sister's oil. So I demonstrated it for you. I will also suck the love-stick that is poking my sexy underbelly. You don't need to be scared. Your sister will make everything spicy for you." 

My statement encouraged my brother. 

"I like the smell of your holiness, Sis. It's like banana," he said. 

"My holiness!" Robert broke through stalemate of our foreplay. My heart leaped like a NASA rocket hearing my brother appreciate my scent. I was a neat woman, was always careful with my food. My health was impeccable. My sense of cleanliness was an arduous achievement of my superior instinct. Robert was right. My pussy and my pussy oil, even my skin, had the flavor of banana. There was still a subtle difference between the scent of my skin and my pussy. My skin had the flavor of jasmine and my pussy had the flavor of a mixer of banana and jasmine. It was rewarding to know that my pussy had the flavor of banana. Robert was very fond of banana. He ate banana a lot. Event the gum which he chewed to remain fresh had the flavor of banana. 

My eyes were filled in tears as it sank in me that my brother had discerned my scent, which was so known to me. The few curtains standing between us barring us from an all-encompassing enjoyment of the taste of our flesh and the flavor of our sex were being blown one after another. 

I could no more wait to make Robert taste the delicacy of my sex. He had still two fingers baptized by my holiness which I decided to make him taste. "My child," I exhorted into his ear. "Try now." I was gentle with his fingers as I put them between his lips. 

Robert chewed on the cum-coated fingers gingerly. "Honey," I implored. "Your liking it will make me a proud sister. Please, Honey." 

I kept exhorting him as he savored the banana-taste of my pussy and the jasmine oil of my orgasm. He now actively sucked his fingers. I regretted that they were not my fingers. If they had been mine, my pleasure would have been double. 

After sucking my pussy juices from his fingers, my brother penetrated my eyes with his look. He caressed my face with his hands. His right hand combed the locks that fell on my cheek and arranged them neatly on the other side of my ear. My heart jumped at the sheer gentleness of his touch. 

No artist on heaven or earth could have expressed a better way what I wanted to know from my brother. Still my heart ached to hear it from his mouth. "Say it, honey. Say it expressly that you liked?" I implored. 

"Yes, I liked, Sis," he said, stroking my cheeks. 

"You liked what, Baby? I want to hear it from your mouth." 

"I liked the taste of your pussy," he whispered bashfully, kissing my earlobe. 

"If you like the taste of my juices, you will have the opportunity to taste it all your life. My pussy and my pussy juices are only for you, Robert. I will have to offer it to William a few times, but it will be only to make him to forget me. I'm yours, little brother. Love me like you said and tender juices will flow in my pussy canal for you. Tender love will sprinkle out of my heart, only for you, baby bro. Now, before you start fucking your sister, you must confess it again. Baby, my obedient brother, say one more time that you liked the taste of your sister's pussy." 

He said. I asked him to repeat. He repeated. 

During the five minutes that followed, I made him admit again and again that he liked the taste of the content of my feminine spring and in the course of his confession he gave many sexy names to my feminine fluid, of which two I would remember until my last breath: one name was God's saliva and another was mobil. Those names were sexy and had special meaning for me. 

The fact that Robert liked my dirty talks was proved by his deed that followed. He hugged me tightly and rolled me over so that he covered me as I had done him previously. 

I felt good as I lay on my back. Unlike me, my brother maneuvered with his knees so that he exerted as less weight upon me as he could, without losing contact of my skin. 

Covered by my brother, my womanly sense of insecurity vanished away. I discovered myself extremely feminine and tender as my brother began to kiss me. 

It was as much a physical kiss as it was psychological. The fact that Robert had just tasted my pussy juice in his mouth filled my heart with tenderness for him. I offered him my mouth with utmost passivity. 

My pliability boosted Robert's ego. He explored my mouth ravishingly. He was sincere when he'd said he liked my essence. After sucking it from his fingers, he was now searching for a drop of his sister's honey on her tongue, which he was sucking like a mad dog. 

His kiss was authoritative. With the overwhelming kiss, he was claiming his sister as his own. He was taking his rightful share of his sister's sexuality. My beautiful feminine mouth -- along with their full, adorning lips -- was brewed inside his devouring orifice. He was savoring my feminine charms like a man possessed. 

I was perfectly hot and wet for him when he released my mouth from the breathtaking kiss. "Baby bro," I said. "You've claimed your sister with that wonderful kiss. Now fulfill your dream by fucking her like a sister should be fucked." 

I sat up and grasped for air. My tits bounced freely under arousal and I invited Robert to enjoy their beauty. It was hilarious to pose my breasts for my brother. Robert's eyes had already been glued to my puffy nipples and goose-bumped areolae. Under his ferocious gaze, my love gourds throbbed with thickened eroticism. I behaved wantonly for his pleasure. In disguise of doing my disheveled hair, I tossed my breasts. I posed them in the air for the sheer pleasure of being gawked at by him. 

Not only Robert was ogling my beauty. I was doing my part of satisfying my eyes with his nakedness. Robert was a Herculean young man. He had high cheekbones, flat temple, erect nose, emerald eyes, and lush black hair. He was a perfect Don Juan. He was already a black-belt in karate. The smooth strips of muscles on his chest under thin chest-hair felt extremely sexy against my breasts. 

My brother had an extremely beautiful cock. Like my nipples and legs, his cock was tapered toward the front. The color of his love-flesh in his arousal was dark pink; along the powerful shaft blue veins flowed in a beautiful pattern. The big, bulbous head crowned the cock in an aesthetic fashion. The entire beam of glossy manhood was ready for action like a fierce Pharaonic spear. 

When his lust-filled eyes devoured my tits for quite some time, I leaned to hold his cock in my hands. It seemed that holding my brother's raging manhood was one of the most arduous tasks in our debauchery. My hands trembled as they approached the crowned cockhead. I had never had the opportunity to play with my lover William's cock, because William didn't have time to satisfy my prolonged need for sexual enjoyment. I must say that William's penis was admirable. But my brother's cock was most perfect in the world, in look, texture, and length. 

When I managed to hold his manhood in my right hand, I felt that I had found within my reach all the treasures accumulated in the mountain cave by the forty thieves of Arabian Nights. I was afraid to lose the hold of the love-organ. The thrill of its velvety feel spread from my palms to all over my body. The thrill made me extremely aware of my breasts, nipples, and cunt, all of which cried to salute my brother's regal organ. It seemed that if I hadn't held the blessed organ with my both hands, it would've slipped out of my grip. 

"Promise me brother," I cried, holding the cock with both my hands. "Promise that your cock is mine, it belongs to your sister only." 

As I cried, it seemed that I was holding the entire world, all its riches, all its holiness. I didn't want to lose it to anybody. "I know you are virgin," I said. "I can't gift this pristine bird a virgin nest which it deserves. But I will be tender. I will touch every pore of it with my experienced nest. I will bestow upon it the deepest worship it deserves. You only promise that you will never ever profane this beautiful cock with any dirty cunt. This holy treasure is mine, your sister's, baby bro, your sister's only." 

I couldn't blabber anymore. My tears dropped on my brother's powerful thigh. My head leaned with a heartfelt worshipping gesture. Like prostrating before a god, I stooped toward my brother's throbbing cock, until my soft lips touched the bulging head. 

I drank the small pool of pre-cum from the opening. The touch of the velvety head against my lips was magical. I brushed the cockhead from one corner to another corner of my soft lips. It seeped life and spirit into my lips. Pride swelled my breasts as I felt that I could possess the wonderful organ. My sisterly pussy released new waves of pleasure in anticipation. 

It was an ecstatic feel of possessing my brother's cock which would change my life forever by fucking my incestuous cunt. Not only my pussy and clitoris, not only my anus or nipples, every pore of my body desired to be baptized with its sanctity: my armpits, every millimeter of my large breasts, my ears, the crack of my ass, my toes, my eyelids. I would rub my silky hair around it. I would hold it all day and suck it all night long. 

As my lips played with my brother's cockhead, saliva welled up in my mouth, ran along his shaft, and soaked my slender fingers along the way. My grips slid down and the velvety rod entered my mouth. 

When my mouth was full with the heavenly sausage, I concentrated all my senses to savor its taste. I tasted the magical cock with my tongue, my palate and the walls of my mouth. 

The feel of my brother's cock in my mouth was out of the world. I closed my eyes and deeply breathed in the air of his groin. I filled my lungs with the sexy incense. I was in heaven with the double taste of my brother's loins, its velvety flesh inside my mouth and its masculine aroma in the passage of my nose and lungs. I can swear upon God, there is nothing more palatable to a woman than the taste of her man's cock. That moment, my brother's cock, locked snugly along my feminine orifice, was feeding my spirit, my soul, my heart. I preferred it to any good food because unlike food-stuff it was not loading my stomach. It was diffusing purity into my soul. 

My brother moaned in pleasure as the soft walls of my mouth compressed against his resilient girth. The swelled head reached the opening of my throat. I tried to hold both his balls in my left hand but I failed. I held one ball at a time and squeezed them gently, extracting rewarding whimpers from my brother. I drew my mouth in reverse, exerting the softness against the sensitive shaft more indulgingly until the head reached my lips. Then again, with one single but gentle stroke, I shoved the cock into my mouth. 

I took my time when it reached my throat. When the muscles in my throat relaxed, I pushed down, shoving the cockhead along my throat. I stopped only when my lips reached my brother's hairy balls. 

My brother's hot, shallow breaths fall upon my tender earlobes as I deep-throated him with cherishing abandon. I could do it the whole night. But I did not want my brother to cum in my mouth. He could cum a thousand times in my willing mouth later on. For the first time, I wanted him to cum inside my vagina. I released the sweet organ from my mouth with utmost reluctance. 

I invented many new things about sexuality and the power of incestuous love. I discovered that -- like in music, like in art and literature -- there is no limit of pleasure in human sexuality. You only need the right person to explore the creative world of pleasure. I discovered the hackneyed axiom 'the kinkier the better' as if it was my own invention. I was the luckiest girl of the world because I had Robert, my passionate brother, to incite the perpetuity of my hitherto repressed sexuality. 

All my previous enjoyment, all the foreplay, became a blurred memory as Robert's slender fingers held the waistband of my panties to denude me for the first fuck of his life. He sat on his knees between my spread legs; his youthful, strong cock almost reached his chest in its aroused state, in anticipation of his sister's forbidden pussy. I was wondering how the anticipation of his life's first fuck was to him while it was so much thrilling to me who had already been fucked many times, albeit by a perfunctory lover. 




Revelation Ch. 03



My brother had not yet seen the labyrinthine world of a girl's womanhood. I pictured in my mind to ask him later on to tell me how he felt about it, sitting between my legs, holding the waistband of my panties, waiting to see the first pussy of his life. How it made difference that the pussy he was going to see belonged to his sister. I couldn't forget for one second how he had been thrilled by a strand of my pubic hair. It was a matter of pure joy in my heart that it's only a moment my brother was going to see my succulent cunt, the naked flesh of my feminine glory, my aroused clitoris, my trimmed but well-nurtured pubic bush. 

Aha, my pussy was profusely leaking honey as I contemplated my brother's pleasure. His cock throbbed frantically. The mighty organ of pleasure became the image of a depraved saint who had gone mad for some forbidden indulgence. As more of my mound was exposed, as more hairs came to his view along with the feminine scent hidden in their roots, my brother's breaths became deeper. At some point he was inhaling as if an angel spread out a big, beautiful rose from heaven for him to relish its scent. Thanks God, I had already taught him how to relish a woman's fragrance. 

Robert pulled the satin panties off my hipbone. I raised my ass to foster my brother's endeavor to slide down my panties. The waistband grazed the tip of my clitoris as it stopped on my clitoral hood with a scalding pleasure. The entirety of my red bush came to his view. 

"How do you feel now that the whole garden of your sister's pubic hair is revealed before your eyes?" I asked, referring to what he wrote about a strand of my pubic hair in his diary. 

No, my brother's eyes did not come out of their sockets. Rather they attained a freezing depth, with which he penetrated my fiery cunt. It was so sweet to see again and again how the hued light reflected by my loins mesmerized my brother. He gazed at my sacred garden of feminine depravity and was lost in its erotic vision. 

"Fuck, sis," he exclaimed huskily. "I can't express how beautiful your panoramic loins are. Your pussy, embellished by the fiery thicket, resembles a hot spring under a burgundy flower-hedge, in a dreamland under the setting sun." 

Fuck. The word hit all the nerves that ended in my cunt and tits. "Fuck," I said. My profanity was a resonance of my brother's sexy utterance. His appreciation made me a mythical witch of debauchery in our solitary world of incestuous love. I raised my hands above my head as if I was going to raise the roof. In this position my delicate armpits beckoned my brother as my feminine flesh bulged out in two delicate convex pads, upon which golden wisps of my glowing beauty were planted like two thin orchards. Arranging my legs in a circular position, I thrust out my groin, posing my red bush for my brother. My breasts tossed on their own volley. It transpired that my globes of pleasure would fly off my feminine chest and lodge on my brother's palms so that he could have the pleasure of squeezing the silky flesh. 

"Look at me, Lover," I said. "Drink in your sister's beauty. I feel sexy when you ogle my naked body. My wet pussy is for you. My tits are for you to squeeze and suck. When you are tired of fucking me, I will hold you motherly in my arms. I will massage your masculine skin with my soft pubic hair. My armpits are for you to play with when you are tired of the rest of my body. You must learn to value the three gardens in three delicate parts of a woman's body. Except for these three places, the rest of a woman's body is silky-smooth without any hair. We shave if there grows any hair in any other part of our body. We do it to satisfy a man's need for a hot body. A woman's body without any hair except in these three places is very, very hot, because you like it hot, hot and silky against your touch." 

"I understand, Sis," my brother said, as my profanity sank in his twisted mind. He was watching me like a hawk. 

"Anja," he called out my name. "You have opened my eyes, my wicked sister. I would not have known so much feminine charms had I read all the literature of classical world. I don't believe there is a second woman in the world who could demonstrate her beauty in a better way. From now on, you are not only my sister; you are my Goddess of Love." 

As if he was consumed by a swoon, Robert fell in the circle I made with my legs to show him my charms. His nose got buried in my wet vulva. My toes supported his belly while his jet black hair touched my pubic hair. The state of my arousal was veiled by the purity of my brother's worship of my feminine being. To say that Robert imitated my fall on his cock some time back would belie my brother's sublime feels. I had fallen on my brother's cock with mostly my carnal desire. But my brother's worship was dedicated to pure beauty of a woman and was thus far more sublime than my carnal prostration. 

I couldn't hold my tears. I couldn't think of another man capable of so much passion. I wouldn't have wondered if someday my brother would try to eat my raw flesh thinking me a blossomed gardenia or enter my poor pussy with his head to see with his eyes what was inside his sister's womb. I wept profusely, following the path of each big drop of my tears, falling on my brother's hair, while his head remained prostrate, dabbing his Aryan nose into my feminine core. 

Robert raised his head with utmost humiliation. I couldn't believe that he had really gone into a trance during his prostration of half-an-hour or so. He blushed like a seven years old boy who had committed a serious wrong. But he also observed my crying face and noted how much his adoration affected me. He'd surely regain his confident self very soon, but I couldn't stand his mortified countenance. I jumped onto him and smashed his face against my breasts. My eyes poured down tears. I couldn't help rubbing my tear-soaked cheeks against his. I kissed his face inch by inch, millimeter by millimeter, leaving my sisterly saliva all over his face, as if my hot saliva was the most congenial soap to wash my brother's ignominy. I forgot that his neck and his hair was exerting pressure of arousal on my breasts. I forgot the rest of the world. I lapped my own saliva on my brother's cheeks and forehead, eyes and chin, lips and nose, in an attempt to suck the millions of traces of humiliation marked on his countenance. 

We laughed heartily, looking into each other's eyes. "You are a very tender woman, Anja," Robert said with his former confidence. "No other woman can excel better than you in showering a man with tenderness. I can't imagine how lucky I am to have you as my sister." 

"No less fortunate am I to have you as my brother" I said. 

"Sis, you know the story of phoenix, the mythical bird, the pet of Sun God. It is clad in feathers of red and gold, the color of the rising sun. It lives one thousand years. It has a melodious voice that becomes mournful before death. When it feels that death is approaching, it builds itself a pyre of wild cinnamon and dies in the flames. From its ashes arises a new phoenix, which tenderly encases its parent's remains in an egg of myrrh and flows with them to the Egyptian city of Heliopolis, where it puts them on the Altar of the Sun. The ashes bring a dead man back to life." 

Robert told the fable in on breath. "Yes Bro," I said. "I know the legend. But why do you mention it.?" 

Robert looked askance. His emerald eyes sparkled. 

"Can you pose like that again, Sis?" he exclaimed. "In the position in which you arranged yourself and cast spell on me with those fiery hedges under your arms and the fiery bush between your legs." 

I was hypnotized by Robert's pleading. I raised my heads upon my head as if I was going to raise the roof. The red wisp in my armpits and my pubic bush again beckoned him. 

"Yes, this is the perfect pose," my brother said. "Just look at your breasts. They are full of life. They're so big, yet they don't bend their heads. Look at your nipples. They are like two long ripe grapes. Your breasts make 150 degrees angles with your body. There is not a second site on this whole world as beautiful as your breasts. They are the perfect image of two F16 fighter planes, side by side, ready to fly to the first whistle." 

I frowned at my mesmerized brother, not leaving my pose. I was enjoying his adoration. But I wished he had compared my breasts with something live. I, nevertheless, liked the imagery. The planes described at least the firmness of my breasts, specially the angles they made with my belly, perfectly.

"Forgive me, Sis. I am a brainless child. Your breasts can't be compared with anything live or dead of this world. They are heavenly. They are two erect crowns on the holy chest of a libertine goddess."

"But, Brother," I interrupted. "Did you need to make me pose like this to tell me how you like my tits?" 

My brother regained his sense and resumed the story of phoenix. 

"Yes, Sis. I must tell you why I told you about the phoenix. If you hadn't posed like this raising your arms, which have the regal look of our Nordic ancestry, I would've never known that the wisps under a blonde woman's arms and her pubic hair form such a mesmerizing trio of bonfire. When you posed like this, your charms blocked my normal senses. I saw you turned into a phoenix. But this phoenix was not a mere bird, but a mythical goddess of feminine beauty. The pyre set fire under your arms, between your legs. The flames flared, they began to consume you. The scent of your sex that you have been emanating for a long time turned into the sweet smell of myrrh, of burning cinnamon. That sweet smell consumed my senses as the trio-fire consumed your body. I could stand it no more as the three fires converged toward your breasts, those voluptuous breasts, which at that moment invoked those fucking F16 planes, but would soon be consumed by the mythical fire of my reverie. The phoenix regains its life. But it seemed that my sister would never regain hers. I wanted to worship my sister, before angels take her to heaven. As I fell in prostrate, the more that sweet smell whiffed my nasal canal, the more my nose searched for it. This is how my nose dabbed into that holy flower when I swooned over you." 

Hearing my brother, I became so hot that my pussy secretion increased manifold. The incense of my secretion provoked the swoon and it dragged his nose to the source of the heady aroma that invoked the sweet smell of the mythical myrrh. I had been daydreaming as Robert told me about his trance. Robert was an unparalleled romantic boy. Only he could swoon over a woman like that. I was so thrilled by his infatuation that again and again I felt I was the most fortunate woman on heaven and earth. But the infatuation scared me even the more. What would I do when the infatuation died out? He made me a queen. What if he treated me like a cheap whore someday? But until then, I consoled myself, I would let him fuck me like the queen that he had turned me into. Taken by my feminine instinct, I asked Robert to come close so that I could comfort him. 

Robert lied on my lap. I held him with my arms. His hair felt good on my pubic hair. I held him in a tight embrace, just to demonstrate that I was not the mythical phoenix but the very sister of his, his chaperon, and I was not going to leave him, not for this world or that. I recalled a dozen women, of factual and fictional world: Cleopatra, Josephine, Juliet, Anna Karenina, Wallis Simpson, Eleanor, Marie Curie, Sita, Nefertiti, Layla, Penelope, Jane Eyre, Scarlett O'Hara, Guinevere. I couldn't believe that any of the women had loved her man as much as I loved my brother in my arms, especially when I got him as my lover. I also knew that my brother, at least that moment, loved me more than a Majnu, a Romeo, a Napoleon, or a King Edward VIII had loved his woman. 

I had no doubt that my brother's first fuck would be my life's best fuck. I had never had an opportunity to be so tender to a man, and to be fucked with so much love. My body was aroused again; in fact, I was more aroused than ever. But I needed to comfort my brother first. 

"Lover," I said, tightening my grip around him, "instead of a consuming fire, you can think of the trio embellishments of my body as three cooling shrubberies. You can compare my organization with a hot desert. But a desert without oases is arid, is tasteless. So we aesthetic women favor to adorn the desert with cool oases, by nurturing the thickets that grow on our pubic mound and on our armpits, so that you men can enjoy some semblance of greenery in a hot, weary wasteland. Unlike you boys, who thirst for a hot feminine body, we women thirst for a hairy male body, as desert-woman thirsts for greenery. That's why you don't need to shave the hair on your chest, thighs, and arms. My sexy brother, you are cute and rejuvenating for me with all this black hair on your chest and thighs. They made you hundred times sexier than my mechanical lover William, who has only a little grove on his chest. Now, my darling brother, tell me you will never be scared of my armpit-hedges or my pubic bush. They are breezing oases for you, not bonfires." 

My cunt secreted copiously as my talks to enwrap my brother with tenderness soared. Wetness ran down my thighs and touched the hot flesh of my naked ass. If my pussy had secreted at this rate, my body would've soon been drained of hydration. 

"Rob," I urged, when he was comforted enough to fuck me. "Bring water for me before you start fucking me. I want to be all slippery and slimy for you, Honey." 

My brother got up reluctantly. His eyes didn't lose contact of my red bush as long as it was possible as he left the room. I felt like a horny queen as I waited -- stark naked and radiating the aroma of sex -- for my brother to bring me water from the kitchen. I was waiting for his cock to touch my pussy lips. My labia unfurled as if they were on tenterhooks. I had a killing temptation to touch them but my desire to have the touch of my brother's cock on them was more intense. It came over me that never again would I be able to masturbate, now that I had my brother's cock to fuck me every time I was horny. 

When he entered the room with a glass of water, the first thing Robert searched for was my pubic thatch. My girlish instinct took over and I closed my legs and hid my dripping labia. But I was supposed to do the opposite. I took the glass from my brother and drank its content leisurely, looking at my brother and smiling wickedly with my eyes. Now it was the ultimate time for me to show my brother my cunt. Having taken by the whirlwind of passion, I had failed to offer my brother a glimpse of the drenched pussy. 

"Little brother, you want to see what is between your sister's legs? What a pity you haven't seen it yet although you have dipped your nose into it." 

I teased him and splayed my legs slowly, taking my time, so that it impacted upon my virgin brother and he remembered his life's first pussy for a long time. 

Robert's eyes were glued to whatever was being exposed. Following his mesmerized gaze, I exposed the beginning of the groove at my clitoral base, the long dune of my clitoris, the clitoral hood, and the most sensitive part, the peanut-tip of my aroused clitoris. I distracted my brother waving at him and when he looked at me I shot a hot look back. Soon I smiled coquettishly and splayed my legs a little further. My hued labia, glittered by secretion, gaped like a ripe fruit that had been cracked by a snap with sharp knife. 

The look on my brother's face demonstrated how much he liked what he saw. When he had seen my firm breasts, it was romance that was marked on his face. Now I saw in his look the raw desire for my sex. My labia unfurled convulsively. Yet I couldn't help splitting it further with my slender fingers so that my brother could have an unhindered view of my aroused pussy. 

"How is it, Lover?" I asked when the site registered on his face.

"A piece of broken peach," my brother said. 

I maintained a neat garden on my pubic mound, but I shaved my pussy lips every morning, a habit I had grown since I was 19, which gave me an opportunity not only to nurture my delicate labia but also to maintain the beauty of my pubic hair. My brother had, therefore, not exaggerated when he said that my pussy was a piece of ripe peach. 

I knew how he got the idea. He was a keen observer of feminine beauty since his puberty but he had not had the opportunity to see the inner beauty of a woman until I opened my legs for him. With the artful movement of my slender fingers, I showed him the oval curve, the red texture of the outer lips and the light-pink texture of the inner lips, and the luscious flesh inside. Thus my fleshy pussy registered on my brother as a piece of ripe peach. But what boosted my ego that moment was not the beauty of my pussy but the pleasure of showing it to my brother, splitting the tender flesh with my own fingers. 

I smeared the bloated lips with oozing honey and my brother licked his lips with his beautiful tongue. As I opened the lips further, the bump at the beginning of the vulva seemed a fragment of pulp in the crack of a severed peach which was crumbling into juices and flowing down. My succulent cunt, with its oozing honey, resembled a gilded juice-machine in the breakfast restaurant of a seven-star hotel. 

"This peach of your imagination is for you, baby bro," I said passionately, as my exposed cunt beckoned him. "Look at it well. Memorize it. See, how it is leaking honey, only for you, Baby. If you don't do something very soon; bees, ants, and wasps from forest will enter our house following the scent. They will eat your peach and will not leave even a morsel for you." 

No, I had no intention to tempt my brother to eat my pussy. He had got ridden of his inhibition. If I had asked, he would have jumped into it and lapped my juices like a thirsty kitten. But at this stage what I wanted was not my brother's mouth but his virile cock, to claim its rightful share of his sister's mature cunt. The conflagration that my own coquetry had set in my body couldn't have been extinguished if even all the men in our small town came in one after another and gnawed my cunt as if it was a chunk of Amazonian sugarcane. There was something deeply psychological behind my arousal and that arousal could only be satisfied by a night of disgruntled hammering by my brother. 

Pushing two pillows under my head, I lied down, splaying my legs so that my pussy was in the right pose for the most craved fuck of my life. I had been drained of the last drop of power to prolong our foreplay. My nipples were bloated so much so that they ached. My pussy had gone mad. What I needed was my brother's cock in my pussy and his mouth on my nipples. "Come, my holy brother. Come to your sister's nest," I issued the inevitable invitation and my brother, who had not sat since he brought me water, took position between my legs. I signaled and he brought his mouth near me, without touching my breasts. I held his neck and gave him a deep, motherly kiss. I would have liked it more if he had lied over to kiss me so that I could've taken his cock in my hands to push it into my womanhood. But I wanted my brother to see with his own eyes how his cock enters his sister's pussy and loses its virginity. 

I pushed Robert away gently to my groin. I rose to a semi-lying position with the support of the pillows. "Come to mommy," I spoke, not to my brother but to his cock. I took the ever-raging cock in my right hand. It burned my palm. I poised my brother's erect penis a millimeter off my gashing cunt and gazed into his eyes. 

"Honey, do you regret that I'm not a virgin?" I asked. 

My brother was visibly shaking by the rage of his arousal. He was so horny that he would have shoved it into even a street whore. But I wanted to make sure that it was okay for him to fuck a girl who had already been fucked many times in her life. "If you have any doubt, we still have time to right the wrong. You are the most handsome boy in this little town. I can easily find a virgin girl for you so that you can have the pleasure of popping her cherry." 




Revelation Ch. 03



"Sis, is this the time for such nonsense?" Robert cried. He glared at me with such rage it seemed that either he would start raping me then and there or he'd abandon me with an irrecoverable hatred, leaving me to wallow for the rest of my life upon my aroused pussy. This would have been such a loss that my entire body jerked in fear and the prized penis almost slipped out of my hand. I couldn't afford to let it happen. Out of foreboding, I tightened my grip around my brother's penis and smashed my erect clitoris with the bulbous head. 

Robert had followed the eventuality. Otherwise, his cock could have been torn from its root; only I knew how forcefully I snapped it to hit my disgruntled clitoris. 

It was a debauched act. But it was also an act of sheer eroticism. The fact that I had battered my knotted clitoris with my brother's aroused cock multiplied my pleasure. My eyes closed themselves to withstand the electric shock that my smashed clitoris sent to the distant parts of my body. The pleasure in my clitoris was out of the world when the shock diffused itself in my nervous system. The more I savored that pleasure the more tightly I squeezed my pampered clitoris with the bulbous head; the more the cockhead squeezed my clitoris the more pleasure it produced. I hit my clitoris with my brother's cockhead maddeningly and it brought me a series of mini climaxes. 

It was an endless cycle of pleasure. Yet it was not the pleasure of a hot fuck. Besides, I didn't want to have the principal orgasm without my brother fucking my pussy. 

Robert was smiling naughtily as I looked at him opening my eyes. I was a shameless girl. I smiled back at him. No word could have communicated the love between us more lucidly than those tender smiles on me and my brother's face. I loosened my grip around his cock but didn't let its head leave the touch of my clitoris. I needed my brother's assurance that he was enjoying as much as I did. 

"My Clit," I said, looking into his eyes wantonly, "is the most sensitive part of my body. What I did is not a mere act of madness. I gave my clitoris to my brother by marrying it to his cock." I lightly brushed the clitoral hood with the cockhead, with an air which demonstrated that a marriage had really been registered between my clitoris and my brother's cockhead. 

A series of whimpers escaped my brother's reticent mouth as I brushed his cockhead along my clitoral mound. It was obvious that he liked these light touches more than he liked smashing frictions. I wondered how he was enduring so much teasing. 

"Baby," I said, "it's surprising that you can hold it for such a long time. I heard that a virgin boy discharges to the first touch of a girl's pussy." 

"I am surprised too, Sis," Robert said. "It seems that I am aroused not only in my cock but in my whole body. My whole being seems to extend one thousand invisible hands to hold my penis erect. The same invisible hands tapped the source of my orgasm. They are adamant to prolong my pleasure. It seems I will be able to hold it forever if you are this sexy for me." 

"I've somewhere read about such arousal," I said. "But I heard that only saints are capable of such arousal." 

It was an incompatible coincidence of knowledge and memory. My brother was, in fact, a saint. One night, after papa had died, he cried in my breasts seeing on television the skeleton body of a group of children who were dying of hunger in a Sub-Saharan country. One day he rescued a two years old girl from the Rhine. He was only twelve then. Papa, I, and Robert were picnicking on the bank of the river. None of the dozen of men that gathered by the wail of the distressed mother dared to jump into the tide to rescue the child. Only 12 years old Robert had the courage to do the act of humanity although his life was at stake. Papa -- who had been far off -- came running and ultimately rescued both the child and Robert. But if Robert had not pulled the child by her frock reaching out to her diving into the water, the girl would have been flown to the sea by the time Papa had noticed the accident. Not only these two. Robert had done many other works of charity. It was a false impression that I had fallen in love with him this afternoon when I knew the affect of my panties on him. I had fallen in love with him the day he jumped into the Rhine to save the child when he was only 12 and I was an innocent woman of 19. 

"You are a saint, Brother," I said. Tears welled up in my eyes. Only Robert did not know why. 

Leaving my clitoris, I brushed my downy mound with Robert's cock. I was committing the sin of foreplay for the pleasure of my brother, although I was being equally rewarded by my depravity. Robert's face was woven with the hued pleasure as the silkiness of my pubic hair caressed the sensitive head and the thin skin of his penis. Along the zigzag course, the cockhead left puddles of pre-cum on my dry garden. 

The kinky foreplay raised my arousal to the seventh sky. I was not a saint like my brother. My arousal was, therefore, not as enduring as his. If I had prolonged my depraved act much long, I would've climaxed without the penetrative fuck that I was craving. 

I rubbed my wet labia against Robert's cock. I wanted him to enjoy this last spell of my depravity before we fucked. "Look at it to your heart's content, Lover," I said. "See, how my pussy-lips caress your lovely sausage." 

The pleasure on my brother's face was worth a million dollar to see. The fact that my silky pussy lips were wet made the intimate touches incredibly sexy. Short gasps shot out of my brother's cupid mouth as he watched his sister's long pussy lips mow over the sensitive cockhead. 

"Sis, you are a fairy of erotic art," my brother whimpered.

I felt extremely adored when he said it. I grabbed his nearest hand with my free hand and shove it on my nearest breast. "Fairies have breasts of wools. Does it feel like a breast made of wool," I complained naughtily. My brother's hand squeezed the silky flesh of my breast. 

"I'm a master of erotic art, not a fairy, Baby brother," I boasted. "I'm for your pleasure only." 

"Sex is either slavery or pleasure," I lectured. "It's pleasure to those who love and it's slavery to those who don't. Sex is slavery between William and me because I don't love him, or at least, I don't love him anymore. This slavery brings hundreds of millions of man-woman pairs close every night for a bout of bestial copulation which relieves them for a couple of days or so through the discharges by their sex organs. These pairs copulate regularly even though each of the pair hates the other more than anything else." 

Robert was another talented boy in our little town. He, in fact, scored higher grades in high school than William. But unlike William, Robert had the right mind to enjoy sex. He understood what I said. 

"Isn't it different with us, Sis? Here you are playing with your brother's cock on your private part. At the same time you're discussing social matters. Could you do it with any other guy?" 

"No, I couldn't," I admitted. "The world around us is an automated machine. Their turning into an automated machine has made it possible for them to give in to the slavery of sex. But brother, you will not let your sister submit to that slavery, will you?" I asked pathetically, pressing Robert's cockhead on my inner labia. 

I knew Robert would not let me submit to the slavery of sex. I managed to touch not only the cockhead, but a considerable part of his cock-skin with the lips along my pussy slit. Wherever my brother's penis touched in my pussy, the feel was out of the world. But as I was the greediest sister of the world for my brother's cock, I wanted to feel him all over my pussy tunnel, across my g-spot, across a half-a-dozen sensitive parts in my pussy, and also in the mouth of my womb. I knew Robert was within reach with his love-rod at full mast. Any time I'd shove his cock into my hungry pussy. The long awaited fuck was at the portal of my paradise. 

Consumed by anticipant, I lost not only any power for more foreplay but also lost the grip around my brother's cock. Sanity took better of my brother who came to rescue our bungled love-play. Through the smoky screen of my eyes, I saw my brother hold his penis. What followed was beyond description. I could only follow the rise and fall of the hoarse sound of 'GRR, GRR, GR..RR' that came from my throat as the rock-hard cock-shaft steadily entered my pussy, pushing through my inner labia, hitting the first batch of nerves that ended below, stretching my g-spot to the size of a my areola, battering the heads of one after another bunch of the thousands of nerves that ended in my pussy meat, stretching my poor little and mostly unused pussy tunnel to a limit that I had never thought would be possible, increasing the hoarse "GRR, GRR" eruption of my esophagus, leaving waves of pin-pricking pleasure along the long course of the thick cock-shaft. The cock passed through the sea-dark passage of my sisterly cunt, until the swollen head pushed ajar the sophisticated door of my womb, which had remained closed since the day I was born, except on those days when I had God's punishment of menstrual flow for being born with the sex of Mother Eve, who had enticed Father Adam to eat the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. A cataclysmic orgasm shook the very root of my soul and blew me off into seven million pieces of pure bliss which flew into the seventh sky. 

I regained consciousness to the sweet friction of my brother's pounding along the passage of my vagina. He was fucking me with new vigor when I gained consciousness. The hot content of my orgasm had turned my pussy well into a tropical swamp. Yet, thanks to the Herculean girth of Robert's prick, the friction in my pussy walls was fabulous. I had heard that the bliss of a real orgasm takes a girl's consciousness along its way to heaven. But I had never experienced it. I had also heard that 98% women of the world, since the day of Mother Eve, had died without experiencing the bliss of a real orgasm. I thanked God for gifting me one at the age of 26. I thanked my brother even the more who had brought me the rare bliss of heaven. "Fuck me, Kid," I hissed. "Fuck your sister's brains out." But Robert didn't open his eyes. He continued his depraved action into my pleasure box as if I even didn't exist. Before I closed my own eyes, I only saw large drops of perspiration gathered on his chin and fell on my navel. 

I slumped lazily as my brother fucked me, holding my stretched knees, jabbing into my cunt rhythmically. I closed my eyes for dual purpose: to enjoy the friction of my brother's cock along my pussy and to allow him some time to fuck me without distraction. I decided thus because Robert's whole being was enwrapped by pleasure of fucking his sister. I knew my brother would cum only once, may be toward the end of the night. I would cum many more times in the meantime. I needed time to think of new chimeras, new coquetry, new depravity, and new wantonness, to make his first fuck as memorable as the verses of Aeneid and Iliad.