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Inappropriate Ch. 01

By: WFEATHER



I was in a good position in life. As an Adjunct Instructor at the university, I was able to teach, which I truly enjoyed, but fortunately I was not burdened with academic research. The four classes I taught gave me plenty of time to myself, including short breaks throughout the day when I could get my errands done or take a leisurely lunch break. While there were often quizzes to grade, I could dispense with those rather quickly; midterms and finals clearly took longer to grade, but that only occurred a few times per semester. And since most of my students were in their first or second year of study, their youth helped to keep me youthful and energetic despite my thirty-six years of age. 

The beginning of a new semester was always a time of slightly-nervous anticipation. With the advanced courses, there was almost no anticipation, both because the students already had a strong background in media studies and because I had already taught most of the students in previous classes. With the introductory courses, however, I never really knew what to expect – each group of students has its own collective personality which affects how a class is taught, but that is also part of what makes teaching itself such a fun challenge. 

Another "fun" aspect of teaching in such an environment was the juxtaposition of youth and sudden adulthood. Watching and listening to my students interact with each other showed their relative naïveté interlaced with "older" attitudes and experiences and desires. I sometimes needed to hide a smile when I heard something, or watched discreetly as one student attempted (usually rather badly) to hit on another. 

As New Student Orientation progressed, I enjoyed spending time walking across campus or meandering in the adjacent area of student-oriented shops and eateries. I especially enjoyed admiring the short skirts, tight shorts, and cleavage-revealing tops worn by the myriad of young women coming to or returning to the university. From behind my sunglasses, I was able to sit at a table and read Idoru while occasionally averting my eyes from the page to admire the collective female body passing by the restaurant's patio. 

"He's cute!" I heard softly from my left. I pretended not to hear as I took another sip of the Coke, glancing to my left. A trio of young women sat two tables away, looking in my direction. But then the noise of the lunchtime crowd came to a natural crescendo, so I could no longer hear their conversation. 

While I could not hear them, I could definitely discretely see them: two brunettes and a redhead. The redhead particularly attracted my eyes, with long eyelashes which captured my attention as I saw her in profile. She wore an adjustable silvery ring, and from the distance I was not entirely certain of the form of the ring. The tight tank top revealed that she was not wearing a bra, her nipples not erect but still just barely discernable against the taut fabric. Of the group, she looked toward me much more often than the others, her pinkish eyes truly riveting me. 

In time, I finished the remnants of my lunch slipped the book back into my backpack. With a final sip of the Coke, I discretely admired the redhead one final time. 

*****

To my pleasant surprise, that had not been the final time to discretely admire the redhead, for on the first day of classes, she was the third student to walk into the large lecture hall. 

It was a large class: 250 students and 5 Teaching Assistants, including me. I hoped, as I admired her from across the large auditorium, that she would be in one of my Sections. 

"Earth to Robert," one of the other Teaching Assistants chided me. "Eyes off the juveniles!" 

Eric and I shared a knowing grin. I had taught with him in the Spring semester as well, and knew that he had his own ranking system for the women in his Sections, not dissimilar to the film 10. 

At that point, Dr. Langley approached us, with several other Teaching Assistants in tow, for a quick impromptu meeting, and I lost track of her as the auditorium began to fill with students. But soon enough, the class was beginning, and as I stood with the other Teaching Assistants at the front of the auditorium, I saw her out of the corner of my eye. 

Again, she wore a tight tank top, but she at least wore a bra this time, which was probably good since the air conditioning was indeed on its "Iceberg" setting and her nipples would then have definitely been impossible to miss. Her eyes this time were lavender, and I could only assume that she was wearing colored contacts to achieve that effect. She also wore a rather short denim skirt, short enough that if she were to inadvertently part her legs, everyone at the front of the auditorium would have been able to accurately report what color underwear she was wearing. 

...if any. 

That thought percolated in my mind throughout the introductions and the opening lecture. I may have been laughing at the appropriate times at the many jokes and funny film and television clips Dr. Langley showed to the young throng, but my mind was reeling with thoughts of the redhead's potential lack of underwear. 

...and I could conspicuously feel her eyes upon me. 

*****

The first of my Sections immediately followed the lecture portion of the course for the week. Fortunately, I did not have far to go – just down the corridor to the last classroom on the left, and when I arrived, it appeared that virtually all the students in that Section had already arrived. 

I was not at all surprised to see that the captivating redhead was already sitting at the table at the center of the front row, pointedly ignoring the Oriental-looking student sitting next to her. 

To be honest, I do not know how I made it through that first Section without constantly having my eyes fixated upon her, and without sprouting an erection. 

The good thing about the usually-mundane roll call was that I finally learned her name: Rose Black. Almost certainly, she had been named Rose for her red hair, but it also provided a nice and colorful counterpoint to her last name. 

At the end of Section, most students left the classroom immediately. A few students came up to me with questions about the course. Rose, however, waited until everyone else had stepped away from me before she asked an unexpected question: 


"When are your office hours?" 

It took me a brief second to collect myself. "Fridays from 11AM to Noon, and Wednesdays from Noon to 2PM. It says so in the syllabus." 

"Oh," she replied. "I'm sorry. I must've overlooked it. Thank you, Dr. Stephenson." 

"Whoa!" I uttered with a laugh. "I'm just 'Mr. Stephenson.' I don't have a Ph.D." 

Rose smiled. "That's okay. You clearly know more about media than I do." 

*****

That night, I dreamed of Rose. I dreamed of holding her tightly in the center of main campus as students and professors hurried past en route to their classes and labs and offices. I dreamed of teaching her Section and suddenly, in the blink of an eye, finding her completely naked yet utterly unashamed. I dreamed of grading her exam and finding she did not score well at all, then calling her into my office and pulling her over my thighs to spank her for her poor performance. I dreamed of awakening in the darkness to find her mouth slowly descending my hardened desire. 

In the morning, Rose filled my mind as I showered the wall of the shower. 

*****

11:00AM came slowly. Typically, I did not really look forward to office hours, but this time, I truly wanted to be there. 

I officially shared an office with a Junior Professor, but since she was on medical leave for the semester so she could give birth and care for her newborn, I had the small office to myself. I was very thankful for that fact when I arrived at the office and found Rose awaiting me. 

"Good morning, Dr. Stephenson." 

I smiled, gently shaking my head. "Remember, I don't have a terminal degree." 

"Remember, you know more about media than I do." 

Clearly, this was going to be a private joke between us. 

Never be alone in a room with a single student, especially with a single student of the opposite sex, unless you have a door open so that others can easily see and hear anything that may happen. That line from the mandatory Sexual Harassment course kept resonating in my mind as we sat and chatted. The door was indeed open, but since the office was located in a rarely-used part of the building, there was virtually no chance that anyone would come by unless it was specifically to see me, since the professors with nearby offices were all teaching according to the department's Master Schedule. 

I do not recall the conversation Rose and I had that day in the office. I only recall that she sat in a very unladylike manner, her super-short skirt spread obscenely, providing a nice view of the crotch of her pink panty. Suddenly, the bell rang, signaling that my office hour was at an end, and Rose slowly stood, stretching her arms over her head as she arched her back, her breasts straining against the tight-fitting blouse. 

"Tease" was the only word which came to mind. 

"Perhaps I am," she admitted quietly. 

Only then did I realize that I had actually said what I had thought, and I froze for a moment, uncertain what to do. Yet with perfect fluidity, Rose pressed herself against me, hugging me, and only by instinct did my arms wrap around her, a deep, quiet area of my mind protesting the situation. 

It had been several years since I had last held someone. She was also about the same height as my previous girlfriend. Perhaps it was those two facts combined which caused me to do something which I had often done with my previous girlfriend in such situations: 

I kissed her forehead. 

Rose whimpered softly, happily, a sound reminiscent of a contented puppy. Time seemed to lengthen before she finally stepped out of my grasp and retrieved her backpack from the floor. 

"I'll be sure to watch that movie over the weekend," she said softly with a smile. "Thanks for the suggestion!" 

And then, as if absolutely nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the previous few heartbeats, Rose left the office, leaving me standing there alone, confused yet aroused. 

*****

That night, one of my neighbors was having a barbeque and had invited me. There is something about the combination of barbeque sauce and alcohol which is just perfect. Add some great neighbors and a large pool to the mix and it was a wonderful Friday night. 

However, instead of waking up with a hangover in the morning, I awoke to an emptiness. For the first time in years, I truly lamented the fact that there was not anyone beside me as I awoke. 

Specifically, I truly lamented that fact that Rose was not beside me as I awoke. 

That was when I knew for certain: I was falling for a student. 

It was perhaps the only thing besides plagiarism which could instantly ruin an academic career. It would certainly ruin my Adjunct Instructor status if I were to act on this and be discovered. 

Only then did I realize just how dangerous it was to have hugged Rose the previous morning with the door wide open. I had known at the time that it was not right, but the potential gravity of the simple act suddenly felt like a pair of anvil upon my shoulders. 

I spent Saturday morning in somewhat of a stupor. While the aftereffects of the alcohol slowly drifted away into the ether, my mind was awash in images and thoughts of Rose, and that truly baffled me, for I had never fallen so hard for anyone, not even for my late fiancée. 

Yet, by lunchtime, I was biking toward campus, secretly hoping to catch just a simple glimpse of Rose from a distance. I must have ridden all across campus in various meandering routes for over an hour, but I never saw her, and I finally returned, dejected, to an empty house. 

As evening approached, something urged me to go to the shopping and restaurants area next to main campus, so I did. I walked amongst the throng of students, admiring the plentitude of female flesh but not really able to think of anyone or anything unless it was related to Rose. 

"Mr. Stephenson!" 

A pair of students from one of my classes in the Spring semester came up to me from behind. It was good to see Charlotte and Anthony again, and I was not particularly surprised to see a small diamond ring on Charlotte's hand. We chatted briefly, and while they were planning on getting married shortly after graduation, no arrangements had been made yet other than the fact that Charlotte would wear the wedding dress worn by both her bother and her grandmother. I was truly happy for them, and as they continued on their way to one of the nearby restaurants for a late dinner, I felt a bit happier myself. After all, happiness is usually contagious. 

A few footsteps later, I heard a rapping on a nearby window. I glanced in that direction, and was pleasantly surprised to see Rose at the window of a video store, beaming at me. I waved at her and smiled, thankful to finally have been graced with a glimpse of her, but content to continue meandering through the area. 

However, she waved me inside the store. Without a moment of hesitation, I changed my plan. 

"Hello again, Dr. Stephenson!" Rose greeted me, her pink eyes sparkling. This time, I let the inappropriate honorific stand without comment. 

"Planning on a mini-marathon tonight or tomorrow?" I asked, noting the small stack of DVDs in her hands. 

She laughed, a melodic sound reminiscent of a siren. "I got Amélie, which you recommended, and a few friends who've seen it agreed that it's a really great film. But it's primarily just some Hollywood chick flicks to watch over the coming week." 

We chatted for a long time before finally making our way to the register. I stood aside as Rose applied for a rental card and paid for her selections, then walked with her back toward main campus. Once inside the main gate, however, our walk took strange patterns, never really with a goal in mind, until I heard the university's tall clocktower chime the hour. 

Midnight. 

"Wow..." I said. "I didn't realize it was this late." 

"Me neither," Rose agreed quietly. There was something in her voice which indicated that she wished it was not quite so late, that she wanted to spend more time walking and talking with me. 

I wanted the same thing. 

The warm summer night sparkled upon us as we stood alone in the middle of a wide expanse of grass. During the day, this section of lawn would likely be filled with students – primarily women – tanning between classes. At night, with no one nearby, this place was romantic. 

...and to the dismay of what remained of my logical mind, I was in this place with a student. 

"I suppose you should start thinking about heading back to your dorm room," I finally suggested, breaking the silence between us. 

Rose shook her head. "I actually have an apartment to myself, thanks to my parents," she replied. It made sense, because due to the housing crunch, the university had lifted its insistence that first-year students live in the dorms. "But I'd rather not go there quite yet." 

"I see..." 

Another pregnant pause. 

"Where do you wanna go?" she asked. 

I simply shrugged. 

As another comfortable silence befell us, it was clear that something was drawing us closer together. I knew that I was dooming myself by being in Rose's presence in such a romantic location in clear view of anyone passing by the large starlit lawn. Yet, I felt powerless to do anything to bring this moment to an end. I longed to reach for her hand, to pull her to me and feel her lips parting for me. I wanted to hold her close, long into the night, and watch the sky brighten for us as dawn slowly illuminated the city. 

"You know," she finally whispered, even though no one else was near enough to hear her, "I like you." 

My mind reeled, trying to find an appropriate response which would not further doom me yet still leave open the possibility for more. 

"I'm flattered," I replied with a smiling whisper. 

She giggled quietly. "You should be, Dr. Stephenson. You should be." 

Eventually, we continued to walk. We did not touch each other, but we were clearly close enough to violate each other's personal space. As we passed one of the many dorms on campus, we heard the unmistakable sounds of sexual pleasure coming from an open second-floor window, and I hoped the darkness was enough to hide my growing arousal. 

"I could listen to that all night," she said softly, "imagining that it was me being fucked to nicely." 

I could listen to that all night and imagine that it was me fucking you so nicely, I thought, trying to keep myself from smiling at her comment and my inappropriate thought. 

We were both silent as we listened intently to the sounds of sex until we were out of earshot. The entire time, I imagined I was taking Rose from behind, reaching under her with one hand to roughly seize a breast while pulling her long mane with my other hand, thrusting hard into her as sounds of delight spilled from her dainty lips. 

"Would you fuck me like that?" she asked, snapping me from my reverie. 

Smartly, I hesitated before answering. "That would be... inappropriate," I answered, hoping it was a diplomatic response. 

"True," Rose acknowledged, sounding somewhat disappointed, "it would be..." 

In time, we arrived at the edge of main campus. Even for the late hour, there was plenty of traffic on the street, and I noticed a significant police presence – likely on the lookout for drunk drivers, especially on the first weekend of the Fall semester. 

"Do you live far from here?" I asked innocently, knowing that eventually Rose would need to return to her apartment. 

"No," she replied, fatigue finally creeping into her voice. "Just two blocks away from here." 

"Okay." 

A few minutes later, we approached one of the many apartment buildings filled with students. Given her young age, I could only assume that this was Rose's first time living on her own, away from her family, and she clearly had a nice place. All but a few spaces in the parking lot were carports, and the shrubs and flowers were definitely tended with love. It was an old three-story building, the white paint clearly fresh in the lamplights. Most of the tenants were either asleep or away, given the few illuminated windows. And most telling of all was that this was an interior-entry building, which was probably just perfect for a beautiful young woman living on her own for the first time. 

"Nice place," I commented truthfully. "Much better than my first apartment." 

"I got lucky to get a place here," Rose admitted. "The inheritance came at just the right time." 

That response intrigued me, but I did not press the issue. 

I accompanied her to the front door of the building, fully planning to say goodbye here and walk away once she was safely inside. But before I knew what was happening, she leaned into me, her hand against my heart, her head upon my shoulder, and my arms instinctively enveloped her. 

I am so, so doomed, I thought sadly, but my heart ignored my mind. 

*****

After having spent Saturday night and early Sunday morning with her, Rose did not preoccupy my mind quite so much. It was not because I was any less interested in her. Rather, it was because my need to be in her presence had to some extent been sated. 

Yet while I wanted to see her again, I also dreaded the Tuesday screening for the course. Granted, I would be sitting with the other Teaching Associates as everyone watched the opening film for the course, Citizen Kane, but just knowing that I would likely see Rose again meant that I would need to hide my growing interest in her. 


Inappropriate Ch. 01



"So, what's the deal with you and your sister?"

The question caught me by surprise, enough so that what promised to be a perfectly executed headshot ended with my character being fragged by a tank instead.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I hadn't the faintest clue what Nick was talking about.

"I dunno," Nick replied. "You guys seem really...close, that's all."

"Well, we are twins," I said sarcastically, annoyed that this seemingly inane line of questioning had cost me the lead.

"I mean really close. Like, freaky close," Nick continued.

"Yeah, no idea what you're talking about dude." Nick was a good friend, but he could be a little thick sometimes, especially when it came to the opposite sex. My sister was no exception.

Speak of the devil and she shall appear. My eminently more studious twin entered our apartment, carrying an armful of books. What possessed her to take eighteen hours in one semester was beyond me, but she seemed to be balancing her course load effectively, although her social life was virtually non-existent, outside of hanging out with me.

"Hey Jack," Jennifer greeted me breathlessly.

"Hey Jen. Care to join us?" I asked, gesturing towards the TV with my controller.

"Can't. Mid-term tomorrow. Some of us actually have to study once in a while," my sister replied with mock criticism.

"That's your fault for setting the bar too high. Some of us know how to manage parental expectations," I retorted.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Mom and Dad would be so proud. Well, I'll let you two get back to killing aliens or Nazis or whatever it is your killing today. Love you," she said, leaning over the back of the sofa to hug me from behind and kiss my cheek.

"Ditto," I replied. It was something of an inside joke between the two of us, a reference to an old Patrick Swayze movie our mother was particularly fond of. With that, Jennifer picked up her books and made her way to her bedroom, closing the door to block out the sounds of electronic gunfire.

"You good to go?" I asked Nick, eager to return to our digital mayhem. 

Nick just stared at me instead. " You see! That, right there!" he shouted. "What?" I asked. What the hell was his problem?

"You live together. You hang out all the time. You're all lovey-dovey with each other. You act like you're, you know, together," Nick explained.

I was starting to get annoyed. "Look, me and Jen are tight, ok? We've been each other's best friend our whole lives. It doesn't mean anything weird is going on between us."

"I'm just saying, when people see you in public together, people that don't know you, they think you're a couple. And that's pretty fuckin' weird," Nick insisted.

My patience finally ran out. "Whatever dude," I said dismissively. "As much as I appreciate your incestuous implications, I too have a mid-term in the morning and I intend to at least show up for it."

He took the hint. "Later man," he said as he made his way to the door.

"Later."

-

I continued to play for another hour or so alone after Nick left, but I was still distracted by our earlier conversation. Nick wasn't exactly a social butterfly or anything, so if he was picking some kind of weird vibe between me and my twin, there was a good chance other people were as well. Eventually I called it quits and went to bed.

Sleep eluded me for the next several hours. Nick's words kept echoing my head, and hard as I tried to ignore the implications, there was a cold logic behind his words. Perception is everything and even if nothing inappropriate was going on between me and my sister, the mere appearance of it could have lasting implications. It would explain my non-existent dating streak.

I didn't open my eyes when I heard my bedroom door creak open. Jennifer would sneak into my room all the time when we were kids, a habit that continued to manifest into adulthood. I thought nothing of it before, happily enjoying the warmth and intimacy of the ritual. But as I felt the bed shift as Jennifer sat down on her side, I realized that this was exactly the sort of thing Nick was talking about.

"Move over," she ordered, poking me in the back.

"You do you realize that you have your own bed, right?" I asked rhetorically.

"Yours is more comfortable," Jennifer replied.

"They're exactly the same."

"Well, I like sleeping with you," she said. As if to stress the point, Jennifer reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers. At that point, I gave up on sleep entirely.

"Jen, do you ever think that maybe we're a little too...comfortable with each other?" I asked slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"Like this," I said, squeezing her hand for emphasis. "What we're doing right now."

"We've shared a bed ever since we were kids," my sister replied, a little defensively.

"Uh huh. But we're not kids anymore. Isn't it a little weird now?" I asked.

"I don't know," Jennifer said thoughtfully. "I never really thought about it."

"I'm just saying. I think our relationship might be a lot more...intimate than most. Like, inappropriately intimate," I explained.

"Well, most siblings fight like cats and dogs over stupid shit. We've been best friends our whole lives. I'd say we're ahead of the curve when it comes to brother/sister relationships," Jennifer declared authoritatively. "Where us this coming from anyway?"

"Something Nick said earlier."

Jennifer snorted derisively. "Nick's just jealous. He's had a thing for me ever since high school and he won't accept that I'm not interested."

"You mean he's jealous of me?" I asked.

"I guess."

"See, isn't a little weird that he'd be jealous of me? I'm your brother for Christ's sake." I said incredulously.

"I don't know. All I know is that I love you and you love me. Isn't that the only thing that matters?" Jennifer asked anxiously.

She had a point. We were close. Why should I give a crap what anyone else thinks? "I guess you're right," I said, suddenly eager to let the subject drop.

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right," Jennifer said, sounding somewhat relieved.

"What about when you thought the Russians invaded Atlanta?" I teased.

" I didn't know Georgia was a country at the time," my sister muttered.

"Still, it didn't strike you as a little odd? Did you think Red Dawn was a documentary?"

" You're never going to let that go, are you?" Jennifer asked crossly.

"I'll only bring it up when the time is right," I smirked. "Classes. School functions. Parties, assuming we're ever invited to one.

"Fuck you."

"Love you too."

-

It's never fun waking up with morning wood. It's a cruel and thoroughly useless erection, and particularly insidious when you realize it's nestled firmly against your sister's ass. To make matters worse, our nocturnal big spoon/little spoon reversal also resulted in my right hand gently cupping Jennifer's right breast.

The one thing I had going for me was that Jennifer was still fast asleep. I quickly and quietly withdrew from the quasi-incestuous embrace and made my way to the bathroom to take care of business, cursing the fact that I'd accidentally gotten to second base with my twin sister. Talk about inappropriate.

When I emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, I was greeted by a yawning stretching Jennifer, dressed in her usual sleep attire, which consisted of panties and one of my old t-shirts. Apparently this particular shirt had shrunk considerably in the laundry, because as my sister stretched, the fabric of the shirt slid up her legs, exposing she sheer material of her underwear.

Yep. Definitely inappropriate.



Inappropriate Ch. 02



Hand-in-hand, Rose and I walked along the beach. Lake Bathem looked beautiful at sunset, with the western sky filled with warm colors and the last of the boats slowly making their way toward the docks. There were still a few people enjoying the swimming area, as well as a few dogs playing with their owners and a few couples venturing out of the forest. 

While most people were heading toward their cars, Rose and I continued to walk a path along the edge of the lake. The small waves broke just a few feet away from us, and more than a few times, we stopped briefly to admire the scenery, and to hold each other. 

Eventually, however, it was definitely time for us to return to the hotel. With my arm around her shoulders, I slowly lead the way back to the car, and was not at all surprised to find that there were only five other vehicles besides mine in the parking lot. 

"I'm ready," Rose announced softly as I started the engine. 

"Ready for what?" I asked, genuinely uncertain what she had meant. 

"I'm ready to give myself to you," she confirmed. 

I put my hand upon her thigh, well below the hem of her short skirt. "You don't have to, you know," I said honestly. "I love you already. You don't need to 'prove' anything by..." 

She put up a hand to stop me in mid-sentence. "I want to," she affirmed with conviction in her voice. "For the first time, I truly want someone to slide inside me, make me a true woman." 

One of the lights at the edge of the parking lot cast its yellow-orange glow upon her in such a way as to highlight the curves of her chest. I had thought of Rose already as a true woman, but at this particular angle, in this particular lighting, I thought consciously for the first time that she did somewhat look like just a "girl" with her smallish breasts, but that definitely did not detract from her in any way. 

What it did make me consider, however, was that she was truly significantly younger than me. 

...and that she was one of my students. 

Placing a hand upon mine, Rose smiled at me. "I'm yours," she whispered. "I want to be with you, both physically and especially romantically. But tonight, I definitely want to be yours... physically." 

Somewhat testing her, I squeezed Rose's thigh, and her smile deepened. 

I gently scratched the inside of her thigh, and her eyes sparkled. 

I slowly moved my fingertips underneath the hem of her skirt, and my student leaned toward me, resting her head upon my shoulder. 

"I want you," I admitted. "I've wanted you for some time." 

"Since the first day of class?" 

I felt myself blush slightly. "Before." 

Rose moved her hand to my thigh, scratching me gently through my jeans. "Tonight, I'm yours. Any way you want, so long as it doesn't involve knives or needles." 

I chuckled. "You must be a bit kinky to make that type of clarification." 

Her silence and lack of response spoke volumes, but I decided not to pursue it. Instead, I turned my attention to getting us back to the hotel. 

*****

I closed the door to the hotel room behind us, then stepped into Rose's embrace. She sighed contentedly into my chest. 

"Bathe with me?" she suggested after a few moments. "I have a bubble bath solution we can use." 

I had not had a bubble bath since I was probably 5 years old, and had never even considered it for as long as I could remember. But suddenly, probably because I would not be alone, a bubble bath sounded like an excellent idea. 

"That would be nice," I admitted, giving Rose a gentle squeeze. 

A few minutes later, I joined the young woman in the bathroom. After she had removed her contacts, as the bathtub filled with water and bubbles, I kissed her anew, my hand directly over her heart and enjoying its steady, loving rhythm. 

She made the first move, stepping back just enough so that she could unbutton my shirt. We took our time in undressing each other, pausing only to allow a garment to flutter to the floor, plus an additional pause to turn off the water so the tub would not overflow. And as I knelt before her, I could see and smell her desire upon the crotch of her thong, and I leaned forward to sniff her natural musk briefly before I rendered her naked in my presence for the very first time. 

She was definitely not shy. Rose made no attempt to cover herself. Once she had stepped out of her thong, she cradled my head and pulled my face to her bare mound, where I placed a kiss directly above her clitoris while gently kneading her lower cheeks. 

Slowly, I kissed and caressed my way up my student's youthful body, pausing briefly to nibble a nipple, until I stood before her, when she started her kiss and caress her way down my body, ultimately kneeling before me. She lowered my briefs and rendered me naked, and smiled appreciatively as she took my growing length into her hands, fondling me with care as she looked up at me with smiling lips and eyes. 

Her hands suddenly looked small and obscene as they touched me intimately. Her red-tipped fingers kneaded my genitalia carefully, and it was clear that she had done at least this much before. The clear desire leaking from my manhood was the proof that she was pleasing me, and when she leaned forward and used her tongue to bring that desire into her mouth, I was indeed a very happy person. 

Rose treated my bulbous tip as if it was a lollipop. She licked tentatively several times, drawing more of my clear desire from within me, then finally took me into her mouth for the first time. Gently, slowly, she suckled me, drawing me deeper and deeper into her while her fingers stimulated my testicles and my lengthy shaft with care. My breathing was increasing, becoming subtly louder and heavier, as I brushed her red strands away from her face as that I could watch with great rapture as she eagerly accepted me further and further into her mouth. I was becoming warmer, hotter, and not just from the steam rising from the steaming bubble bath beside us. 

"Oh, Rose..." I uttered despite myself, my hands starting to guide the movements of her red-maned head. 

...and that was when she leaned back and escaped the grip of my hands, looking up at me with a mischievous grin. "Not quite yet," she chided me playfully. With a quick kiss to my leaking tip, Rose slowly stood and stepped toward the bubble-topped bathtub. 

With my desire clearly apparent, I sat in the hot water first, wincing at the high temperature for several seconds until I had leaned back against the sloped back of the bathtub. Rose joined me, and I appreciated the view before she was finally settled with her back against my chest. She sighed, leaning the back of her head upon my shoulder and placing her hands upon my knees as she sat between my bent legs. My arms around her middle, Rose and I spent a long time in silence, simply soaking in the hot water and in the growing love. 

In time, however, it was my turn to tease her. 

My hands slowly moved up her stomach, my fingertips tracing along her lower ribs. I could practically hear her lips slowly curling upward, and she shifted subtly against me, a sign that she definitely wanted me to continue, and I was all too happy to oblige her. Slowly upward my fingers slithered like nearly a dozen tiny snakes until, at last, they brushed the base of her breasts. 

She gasped softly, squeezing my knees, and I chuckled into her ear. "I think you like that," I whispered, and she nodded against my shoulder. 

My fingers alighted upon her soft swells, only occasionally encountering the engorged nipples. Sweet sounds of happiness spilled from between her lips, and she interlaced her fingers behind my neck, the new position inherently thrusting her chest slightly forward, fully exposing her breasts to my touches. 

Touching her so intimately was also having an effect upon me, my arousal growing anew between us. Rose shifted against my lengthening manhood, creating a renewed stirring within me as her fingernails scratched gently at the back of my neck. 

My own fingernails scratched her as well, and she shuddered against me as a quiet cat-like mew poured from her lips. As I flicked a nipple, I also roughly seized the opposite breast, and she stiffened against me with yet another gasp. 

As the water slowly cooled, I continued to tease my young girlfriend, my efforts focused almost solely upon her chest. Her pleasure was very much audible, and it was sweet music to my ears. I fondled and caressed and squeezed and scratched her breasts. I flicked and plucked her nipples. I sucked her ear just above her small studded earring. 

She rocked against me, against my solid erection. I so wanted to slide into her, but I was definitely enjoying this teasing, savoring her body's reactions to my ministrations. I also wanted to determine at what point she would remove her hands from the back of my neck and place them between her legs. 

Rose did in time remove her hands from the back of my neck, but to my surprise, she gripped my knees. Clearly, she wanted me to tease her, and I was more than happy to oblige such an unspoken wish. 

I escalated the situation, whispering into her ear... 

"Just think of how it will feel when I lay you down on the bed and slowly slide into you. Just think of me sliding into you, prying you open, watching your face as your body yields to me." 

"Oh God..." she whispered, and I was certain that she was indeed imagining that very situation. 

"Slowly moving inside you. Grinding against your clit whenever I'm fully buried inside you. Twitching inside you as your body clamps down upon me..." 

"Please..." she pleaded, then she squealed as I roughly tugged at both of her nipples. 

"Please what?" 

"Please... I need..." 

"What do you need, Rose? Tell me." 

Her hands were gripping my knees rather tightly as she squirmed against me. "I need... Nnngh!" I pinched her nipples even harder, and I knew that it was at least a little painful for her, but to her tremendous credit, she did not complain at all, and in fact arched her back even more, truly offering her nipples to be tortured by my fingertips. 

"Tell me what you need." I applied even more force, my fingertips curling inward, my fingernails pressing into the base of each plump nipple. 

"My clit!" Rose exclaimed. 

"What about your clit?" I challenged. 

"Rub it! Please!!!" 

I released her tortured nipples and cupped her breasts briefly before sliding my dominant hand down her slim torso. My fingernails gently scratched her smooth skin en route to her clitoris, and when my hand finally arrived at its destination, I cupped her hot sex and squeezed. 

Her moan was exquisite. 

She moved against my chest, my hand, my manhood. She was a siren, drawing me ever closer to her with her sweet, seductive sounds. 

I escalated the situation, moving my left hand down between Rose's legs as well. Gently, I rubbed small circles over her clitoris while gently thrusting just a few fingertips into her body. From her reactions, it was almost enough. 

"Oh, please!" she pleaded, kneading her breasts. Her breaths were heavy, her body undulating against me. 

"Pinch your nipples," I instructed, and she did, pinching them hard, grunting as she winced from her self-inflicted pain. For my part, I kept my fingertips inert within her while my right hand furiously attacked her clitoris. 

Her release was accompanied by an explosion of sound. Although it was entirely her pleasure, I felt rather warm inside from having witnessed her wonderful moment, from having granted her this climax. 

As Rose slowly descended from her orgasmic peak, I held her tightly in my arms, kissing her cheek and her neck. Yet I remained hard, and I yearned to slide into her young body, to fill her with my essence. 

"I want you," I whispered. "I want to make love to you. I want to fill you and pour my seed into you." 

She whimpered, stroking my forearms, still breathing a little quickly from her release. 

"I want you, Rose," I reiterated, punctuating the heartfelt statement with a kiss to her neck. "I so desperately want to be inside you..." 

"I want you in me..." she breathed, her voice barely audible. "I need you in me..." 

Yet, I was torn. I definitely wanted to make love to this young beauty, but where? I could not really make love to her in the bathtub unless it was from behind, but I also did not want Rose's face to be plunged into water if her arms gave out. The bathroom floor was an option, but not particularly comfortable. The floor of the main part of the hotel room was an option, but unless Rose and I dried off first, the carpet would get soaked... and the bed presented the same dilemma. 

Logic reigned. 

"Let's get out of the water," I suggested as politely as possible, and Rose nodded her agreement. Carefully, she stood before me, turning to face me and providing me a most wonderful view of her multiple feminine curves. Instinctively, I reached forward to run my fingertips along her wet folds, and I both saw and felt her slight shudder at my careful touch. 

Rose stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel as I stood as well. Seemingly a heartbeat later, I stood behind her, my hands upon her waist as she began to dry herself. When she was finished, my student turned around in my arms and began to dry me, ending in a kneeling position at my feet. 

Setting the towel aside, she stroked my legs for a moment, her hazel eyes fixated upon my erect manhood. For just an instant, I envisioned myself suddenly seizing her head and when she opened her mouth in surprise, forcing my length inside her, into her throat, not caring if she could breathe and simply using her head for my pleasure until I unleashed my seed directly into her stomach. 

Instead, I cradled her head, slowly drawing her face closer to my throbbing desire. Her lips parted with the rapidity of a snail as her fingernails gently stroked my testicles in teasing ways. 

The sudden lunge of Rose's head took me completely by surprise, and instantly I was groaning aloud, knocking at the top of her throat as I held her head firmly in place between my stiffened hands. Clearly, she could still breathe through her nose, for Rose did not try to push me away. Instead, she moaned seductively as I invaded her mouth, her sensual sound both heard and especially felt. I groaned once again despite myself, punctuating my primal sound by twitching inside her warm mouth. 

For the briefest of moments, my realistic subconscious mind loomed ominously. For the briefest of moments, I did not see kneeling before me a beautiful young woman who was clearly eager to give me pleasure. For the briefest of moments, I saw kneeling before me a student – one of my students – who represented the destruction of the life and the reputation I had built for myself at the university. For the briefest of moments, I saw kneeling before me a threat – a beautiful threat, similar to a fabled siren, but a threat nonetheless... a threat with unfabled consequences which would utterly ruin me. 

Yet I was too far gone to care. 

Nudging Rose's head away, I knelt before her, and as she gulped as much oxygen as her lungs could handle, I took her into my arms, seizing her with the desperation of a half-drowned victim on a vast storm-choppy ocean. For a moment, she pumped me with her hands, but then I shifted her into a new position and slowly rose to my feet with Rose in my arms. 

Carefully, I carried the young woman out of the bathroom, and a moment later deposited her upon the large bed. My lust had simmered enough that I could stand back and simply admire her as she lay upon the bed, her arms spread in an inviting manner, her legs parted just enough to display her bare, moistened sex. For the first time, I noticed just how prominent the freckles were upon the majority of her body. The small stud earring in her left ear caught the light just right to truly shine, and that seemed to cause her face to radiate. 

Indeed, I was in the presence of a beautiful angel. 

I sat on the edge of the large bed and bent over her. Our eyes locked, speaking words which our lips could never form. My hand reached for hers, our fingers intertwining with the ease of longtime lovers. Clearly, we both recognized that this was indeed a special moment, that this would certainly change each of us forever. 

Rose tugged at my hand, urging me to lay upon her. Carefully, I settled my weight upon her, and she smiled sweetly, wrapping her arms around me. My hands cradling her head, our lips joined anew as I shifted position so that my long shaft was balanced upon her thigh. 

The kiss lingered, extended, deepened, intensified. Tongues dueled. Teeth clashed. Soft grunts were prominent yet barely heard. Hands roamed and groped. The scent of our growing passion was filling the hotel room. 

Slowly, I moved down her body, kissing and licking and even biting Rose's soft pale skin. I spent considerable time at her chest, fondling each breast, sucking and biting each nipple, and her squeals were electrifying, her fingernails curling against my scalp as she moved my head only to direct the attentions of my mouth to each nipple. She writhed beneath me, her legs continually moving against me. Clearly, she was enjoying our foreplay, and although at the moment the pleasure was entirely hers, I was definitely enjoying pleasuring her. 

And somehow, inexplicably, the inappropriate nature of our relationship only heightened the moment for me... and perhaps even for my young student as well. 

I took a nipple between my teeth and laved it with my tongue, and my angel cried out gloriously. Biting harder at the base of her taut bud, I moved my tongue even faster as my fingers toyed with her clitoris. 

Unintelligible sounds were suddenly being flung from her mouth as ecstasy overwhelmed her body. Even after I had relinquished my grip upon her nipple, she rode the waves of pleasure which were surging through her being, and even when she was finally stilled upon the bed, her half-closed eyes begged me for more. 

Specifically, her eyes pleaded for me to finally enter her. 

I was more than ready to oblige her, but first, I wanted to taste her. 

I continued the lips-to-skin exploration of this young woman's body, moving slowly ever downward, nibbling upon her lower ribs, licking around and inside her navel, kissing all around but never quite upon her clitoris... 

At last, with my head perched between her spread well-toned thighs, my fingertips parted her feminine folds to reveal the dewy pinkness within. Her natural musk was strong, testifying to her desire for me, and her wetness was mesmerizing. 

I glanced up Rose's body to find her head tipped back upon a pillow, her lips parted and her hands kneading her breasts. With a smile of appreciation, I turned my attention back toward the moistened sex before me and dipped my head... 

Rose's moan was soft and long as my tongue slithered between her parted labia, collecting her dripping desire and spreading it upward toward her clitoris. In short order, she was rocking gently against my tongue and my lips as I repeated the intimate act, savoring her tangy nectar and reveling in her wonderful taste. Her legs began to flex anew, and soon I felt her thighs pressing against the sides of my head as I kept exposed the entrance to her vagina and continued to tongue her sweet sex repeatedly, pausing only to draw her liquid passion into me to further fuel my desire for her. 

She was moaning, panting, attempting to thrust herself into my mouth while clamping my head into place with her thighs. My hands slithered up her sides and onto her chest, my hands replacing hers upon her quivering breasts, my fingers tweaking her erect nipples and causing her to groan with need. 

My need was evident in that I was slowly humping the bed, sliding my solid arousal upon the thick bedspread. While I was indeed savoring Rose's natural taste, my need was growing, becoming more desperate with each heartbeat. 




Inappropriate Ch. 02



Luckily, Jennifer either had no recollection of our awkward morning embrace or had simply decided not to mention it. Either way, I was spared considerable embarrassment. I mulled over my predicament as I sat in class that morning, eager to find a way to mitigate my unnatural desires without hurting my sister's feelings.

To be honest, this probably wasn't the first time I'd reacted to my sister's body, but I was never as cognizant of it as I was now. Both of us were woefully inexperienced when it came to sex, a consequence of a certain degree of social ineptitude, as well as our lifelong emotional intimacy. I'd always found her attractive, but I never found myself dwelling on her body so intently before. It occurred to me that I had seen more of her than anyone else on the planet.

And just like that, I was once again punished by the gods of inconvenient and painful erections, the kind that used to strike without warning during puberty. Thus, I has the privilege of spending the rest of the lecture trying desperately to think about anything other than what my sister looked like naked. 

What I needed was a distraction. Someone other than my twin sister to dwell on. Someone that was actually an option. That last part was the most difficult. I still hadn't quite mastered the art of talking to a woman that wasn't related to me. Too many video games, not enough football I assumed.

I took a mental count of eligible female classmates I actually knew by name. It was a short list. Vicky and Michelle. I'd actually gotten to know Michelle fairly well over the last several weeks, thanks to a series of shared classes and interests. Nick, Jen, Michelle, and I had formed a mini nerd club, which met regularly at her dorm room to play video games and discuss all things geek chic. Unfortunately, Michelle had the sex drive and appeal of a turnip, so our relationship was destined to remain platonic indefinitely.

Vicky was Michelle's roommate, which was about the extent of what I knew about her. She kept to herself for the most part, although she would interject occasionally whenever classic film happened to be the topic of discussion. She was pleasant enough, even if she was a little aloof. It seemed like Vicky would be my best option. She was cute, not jaw-dropping beautiful or anything, but certainly attractive. She didn't seem overtly interested in me, but then again she didn't seem particularly interested in anyone, so I decided to risk it. A bruised ego wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

-

I decided to run the idea by Jennifer first. This was uncharted territory after all, and in spite of recent awkward developments, she was still my best friend and confidant. Best of all, she was a woman, so I imagined that if nothing else, her feminine insight might come in handy.

"So, I've been thinking about asking Vicky out," I announced casually as I tuned my guitar. I rarely needed to find a decent transition or establish context when beginning a conversation with my sister, an advantage to having similar thought processes.

"Oh? And why would you want to do a thing like that?" she asked with slightly narrowed eyes. Weird. I'd expected her to tease me a little, but her tone sounded almost catty. 

"I don't know. She's cute. Seems kind of interesting." I didn't expect to have to defend myself.

"Was she cute and interesting last week?" Yep. Definitely catty.

"I suppose so. Why do you ask?" I inquired carefully.

"She just doesn't seem like your type, that's all," Jennifer said noncommittally.

"I have a type?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Everyone has a type. Didn't think you went for frigid and pretentious, but who am I to judge?"

What the hell was her problem? "Look, are you going to help me or not?" I asked crossly. 

Jen sighed. "Fine. But I'm doing this under protest."

"Your objection is noted. So, what do you know?"

"Well, she's pale. Not elegantly fair skinned like your beautiful sister. More like a freaky, dead pale. She might be a vampire."

I wasn't amused. "You're not helping."

"Fine. Well, she thinks you're cute, in a geeky 'Dungeons and Dragons' sort of way," Jennifer explained.

"We don't play Dungeons and Dragons. We don't even play Magic the..."

"Yeah, she's not going to be able to make that distinction, and I'd advise against trying to do it for her," my sister replied irritably. "Now may I finish?"

"Sorry."

"That's ok. Anyway, she's really into old movies, especially Alfred Hitchcock. If you bring up Vertigo, she'll talk about it for at least an hour." Interesting. I already knew the part about classic movies, but the Hitchcock thing was new information.

"I've never seen it."

Jennifer shook her head. "Don't bother. Just bring it up once and you'll know everything you ever wanted to know about it and then some. Let's see. Loves the Stones, the Boss, Zepplin, all the classics, so I can't fault her taste in music."

"Should I break out the guitar?" I asked, idly strumming a few chords. Jennifer was not pleased.

"No. Do not be that guy. You and I jam together and it's awesome and fun and we have a great time. But if you use your guitar to try to get into some girl's pants like every other asshole with a faux hawk on this campus, you will have a head injury and a broken guitar. Are we clear?"

"Fine, fine," I said as I put my hands up in mock surrender. "Anything else."

"That's about it. Try not to over-think it. Just talk to her like you talk to me and you'll be fine." She paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Look, you're a great guy. I'm not just saying that because I'm your sister and I have to love you." She paused again, and her voice grew softer. "You make me laugh. You always know exactly what to say and do to make me feel better when I'm sad, or scared, or angry. I never have to hide anything when I'm with you. I can come to you with anything, anything at all and I never have to worry that you'll think it's stupid or petty. When I'm with you, I'm just...happy. I guess what I'm saying is, don't sell yourself short. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

I didn't know how to respond to that. The air seemed hot and thick and uncomfortable and Jennifer just kept staring at me, waiting for me to say something. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I stammered shakily.

"Anytime."

-

Jen's advice was pure gold and within the week I had a girlfriend. Vicky's assimilation into our little band included an extra, her best friend from high school, Ryan. I was surprised to learn that Ryan was gay, a fact that made me uncomfortable at first, a consequence of growing up in the bible belt. As it turned out, reports of the predatory nature of our nation's homosexuals were greatly exaggerated and I chucked that piece of trivia into the pile of stupid things I learned living in a small town.

That being said, I didn't particularly like the guy. He was kind of like a male Vicky, although slightly less effeminate and exponentially more morose. Dude needed to get laid, or high, or something.

Sadly I'd been rather unsuccessful in my sexual escapades as well. Vicky and I indulged each other in the occasional door room make out session, much to Michelle's annoyance, but the physical aspect of our relationship progressed at an infuriatingly sluggish pace. The best I'd managed was a little clumsy, "under the shirt, over the bra," action, which was more frustrating than arousing.

My physical relationship with Vicky was similar to fishing. It took a lot of effort to get started, the process itself wasn't all that interesting, and I never really accomplished anything. It felt like I was constantly auditioning for a role I didn't really want. Jennifer wasn't wrong about Vicky being frigid, but there was plenty of blame to go around. When it came down to it, every time I kissed Vicky, I felt like I was kissing a stranger. which kind of defeated the entire purpose of the relationship.

Nonetheless, I persevered. Vicky still had one distinct advantage over Jennifer; she wasn't a blood relative. And that, apparently, made her worth settling for.

I briefly considered consulting Jennifer on the subject, but it was obvious that to do so would be worse than useless. Jen had become increasingly...aggressive in asserting her position as sister/best friend/most important woman in my life. She was almost territorially affectionate, even in public, to the point of making it slightly uncomfortable for everyone in the vicinity, especially Vicky. She might not have been the most warm or affectionate woman in the world, but she had jealousy down pat.

In spite of these setbacks, our little gang began to solidify, friendships coalescing around shared hobbies, interests, and personalities. Video games and stoner humor continued to be the bedrock of my friendship with Nick. Michelle and I bonded over anime, one of the few interests my twin and I did not share; Nick and Vicky discussed science in general, and biology specifically at length. Jen even made a point of inviting Ryan over to our apartment for the occasional jam session, and I admitted, a bit begrudgingly, that having a drummer was a vast improvement.

Still, we weren't exactly one big happy family. Michelle seemed to simply tolerate the presence of anyone other than Vicky or myself. Nick began making fumbling, half-hearted attempts to flirt with my sister, who remained steadfastly and deliberately oblivious to it. Ryan and I could never come up with a damn thing to say to one another other than "One, two, three four," and Vicky and Jennifer's relationship quickly soured to the point where they were just shy of openly hostile toward one another.

The biggest challenge was the fact that for some reason, I became the de facto leader of our modest crowd, mainly because I was the only one that had at least one positive association with each of its members. Naturally, I got to hear all of the bitching.

"Why do you two insist on fornicating in my dorm room? Don't you have an apartment?" Michelle grumbled.

"Do you have to do that here? In our apartment. On our couch? Can't you guys exchange fluids at her place?" Jennifer protested.

"I don't know what her problem is. I've never been anything but nice to her, but she acts like I'm not good enough for you or something. She really needs to get her own life." Vicky whined.

"You ever noticed how he just...stays, even when your make it ridiculously obvious that you're trying to get him to go home? It's kind of creepy, right?" Nick muttered.

Ok, almost everyone. Ryan didn't complain, at least not to me. He just kind of stared at people, as if he was trying very hard to read their minds and enjoying a moderate degree of success. And in fairness to Nick, it was pretty creepy.

-

The hardest part was balancing competing demands on my time. My classes, homework, friends, girlfriend, and sister all fought for increasingly small shares of my finite time. I rarely spent any time hanging out with Nick one-on-one anymore, dating was suddenly becoming a full-time job, and my time with Jen always carried an air of tension to it, as if she assumed I'd be happier elsewhere.

One night as I was working on homework, Jennifer took to working out the kinks to "King of Anything" on her piano as I struggled through an English essay. The topic was easy, but I hadn't found the time to actually read the source material. When I finally came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to be able to bullshit my way through this assignment, I realized the music had stopped and my twin had vanished. A second later, a pair of thin, but deceptively strong arms were pulling me to the ground.

Apparently Jen was bored. Eh, what the hell. I needed a break anyway. I counterattacked, reaching below my sister's ribs to tickle her, one of my go-to moves during our wrestling matches. Overpowering her wasn't a problem, but I preferred to subdue her by more tortuous means.

"Stop it!," she squealed, giggling profusely. "You rat bastard, you can't open with that!"

"Strike first. Strike hard. No mercy," I retorted, continuing my assault.

"I don't think this is what the Cobra Kai dojo had in mind," Jennifer whined.

"You rack disciprine," I mocked in horribly exaggerated Engrish.

"Rape! Rape!" Jen yelled through hiccups and giggles.

"Shhh! Someone might actually hear you, you know? Plus, I thought you were supposed to yell 'Fire?'" I admonished.

"Won't they just think the building's on fire?"

"Yeah, they kind of gloss over that part, don't they?"

It was at the precise moment that I realized what a precarious position we were in. Jennifer was on the floor, her legs wrapped around my pelvis in a vain attempt to keep me at bay. She wasn't trying to now. Our faces were only inches apart.

Jennifer stared at me intently, like she was waiting for something. She reached up, gently running her fingertips over my temple. I started to lean in. She closed her eyes.

Jennifer and I were thirteen the first time we kissed, just two young teenagers eager to find out what all the fuss was about. And like everything else, we did it together. We loved each other, trusted each other. Every experience we had up until that point that was worth having, we did together. It made sense, at the time. We were young. We never considered the possibility that what we were doing was wrong.

Five years later and here we were again. Only this time, I knew damn well it was wrong. I just couldn't bring myself to care. Jennifer inhaled deeply as my lips met hers. She tilted her head, cupping my face with her hand as she returned the pressure. I could taste her lips, her tongue, her warmth.

A faint buzzing sounds brings us both crashing back to earth, and I curse the man who invented cell phones. I couldn't answer it even if I wanted to. Both it and I were trapped between my sister's legs, but it doesn't matter. I knew that it was Vicky and I knew that all of this is impossible and that I'd wake up any second.

Only it wasn't and Jennifer just kept staring at me. "Jen, what are we doing?" I asked hoarsely.

"I don't know," she whispered, and I realized that she's just as desperate and confused as I am. "We didn't do anything wrong," she says tentatively, as if she's trying to convince the both of us. "It's not like we're hurting anyone. We should be able to have...moments like this."

Vicky would probably disagree, but Vicky's the furthest thing from my mind right now. We untangled ourselves from one another and sat up against the wall, staring at nothing in particular.

"Jennifer, this is," I stammered as I looked down at the carpet, unable to say the word, "people have a word for this."

"I know that," she gritted, suddenly angry. "That's not...that's not what this is." Her shoulders sank and she closed her eyes. "I don't know what this is. All I know right now is that I love you."

She sat there quietly, waiting for me to say something, anything. I'd never seen her look so vulnerable. I wanted to say, "I love you too," but I knew what would follow if I did, and as much as I wanted it I was terrified of what it would mean. It didn't help that my damn phone kept on ringing, beckoning me to make a choice.

So I answered it, and my beautiful, loving twin, sensing that she'd been rebuffed, fled the room, slamming the door behind her. I knew that I was letting go of an opportunity, and I doubted it would present itself again. I just hoped that by doing so, I was saving both of our lives and that my sister would forgive me.



Inappropriate Ch. 02



Nearly two years had passed since the incident with Susan's mom. For the first few weeks after it happened, the incident fueled my lust and my fantasies, but after that it soon faded into a distant memory. As weeks turned into months, it all became a blur and there were times that I asked myself if it had really happened at all. Chrystal had gone back to being a complete bitch within minutes after what happened and had remained that way ever since. I had made no further attempt to be alone with her or make any moves on her. 

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Bill and Chrystal invited us to join them in their brand new summer vacation villa to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Susan and I had planned a small party with some friends, but her parents decided that the party would just have to wait until we'd spent some time at their luxurious mansion. Susan agreed off course and jumped at the opportunity to revel in the ridiculous luxury I was unable to provide. The mansion housed six bathrooms, fourteen bedrooms, five dining rooms, a pool, a billiards room and several sitting areas that did not have any clear function, other than to flaunt some obscure art. After looking over the pictures, I realized that it wouldn't be too difficult to avoid mys in that big of an environment. I played hard-ball with my wife however and feigned severe reluctance to increase her gratitude when I eventually did say yes, and it worked: as a token of her gratitude she spent the next twenty minutes on her knees sucking the cum out of my balls. 

And so, immediately after my blowjob, Susan started calling our friends to postpone the party, while I began contacting my fellow physicians to see if any of them could handle my patients for a week. Afterwards we packed for three hours straight, so that we could leave the very next morning. After a six hours drive, we were greeted by Susan's parents and their staff of two. I didn't care so much about the muscular black butler, but the young gorgeous chambermaid with red hair, however, really caught my attention. This did not go unnoticed by my wife, who poked me in the ribs and shot me an angry, irritated look.

Bill was wearing... well, who cares. Chrystal was wearing a red, two piece bathing suit, with a see-through white, crochet jacket, barely concealing anything. A typical sunhat and sunglasses gave her that up-classy bitch look. On top of that, she went out of her way to ignore me; not only did she not speak to me - not a single word - but she also turned her back towards me every chance she got. I'd be lying if I said her attitude wasn't giving me a massive boner.

During the grand tour of the house - which took about thirty minutes and only covered the sections which were completely ready and fully decorated - Susan, along with her parents, walked several meters in front of me. I deliberately dragged my feet, so that I could stare at my mother's ass and legs. I had to be careful though, I was already in the doghouse with my wife because of the staring-at-the-hot-maid thing. I could only imagine how much trouble I'd be in if she were to catch me lusting after her own mother. But the three of them were so wrapped up in admiring the mansion and chitchatting about every piece of art they came across, that I didn't have too much to worry about. As a result, my erection never quite went down. 

Eventually we arrived at the pool - the most interesting part of the mansion as far as I was concerned - and were served some champagne. Because I kept leering at the maid and Chrystal every chance I got, my cock still didn't go soft. I desperately needed some relief!

When Bill asked if we wanted to see the vineyards, I realized that this was my chance. I declined politely, stating that I wanted to go and freshen up. Sharing her father's passion for wine, Susan eagerly accepted, as expected, hopefully giving me ample time to have a good wank.

"Do you know how to get to your room?" Bill inquired.

"Yes, I'll manage," I replied.

While father and daughter headed out to the vineyard, Chrystal laid herself down on one of the tanning beds as I started my expedition to find our room. As I hadn't been paying much attention during the tour, I was completely unfamiliar with the layout and needed almost ten minutes to find it. After locking the door from the inside, I took off my clothes, whipped out my cock and had a good, long wank. Needless to say, I thought of Chrystal the entire time and even grunted her name as I shot my fat load on the floor.

Unfortunately, that was the most interesting part of the first day. Afterwards, there was off course the inescapable fight with my wife - who was still obsessing over the whole maid thing. After apologizing about half a dozen times, I finally managed to change the subject, but I had a feeling I wouldn't be getting sex any time soon. I spent the rest of the day relaxing by the pool, reading my book and talking to either Bill or my wife. Chrystal still hadn't said a word to me. Her arrogance, not to mention the way she looked, aroused me significantly and continually.

The second day didn't go any better; except for taking a walk through the vineyards with my wife, it was pretty much a carbon copy of the day before; leering at the maid and at Chrystal, jerking off alone in our room, sitting by the pool, eating, swimming and generally being ignored all day long by my mother.

Although day three started off exactly the same way, in the afternoon, everything changed. After lunch, Bill invited Susan and me to accompany him into town. There was some sort of wine related happening and he was looking to network, because he didn't know the first thing about winemaking. Chrystal had no interest in wine - except for drinking lots of it - and therefor opted to stay home. Figuring a change of scenery would break the monotony, I accepted and so the three of us started walking to town. It was only a couple of kilometers and it was a beautiful, sunny day.

Barely twenty minutes after leaving however, Bill and I got into a big fight, after he had felt the need to once again belittle my career. He made it abundantly clear - yet again - that being married to a mere physician was not good enough for his daughter. It got so bad that I told him to go and fuck himself, turned around and started walking back to the mansion. Although Susan was inclined to take my side, she didn't really have the courage to stand up to her father. She rushed after me and tried to change my mind, but I had just had about enough of his crap. I stopped, turned towards her and told her in a calm and composed tone to go ahead and spend the afternoon with her father, as we would be driving home the next morning. To my surprise, she didn't object and simply nodded, probably realizing that her father had once again crossed the line.

And so, we parted ways. I walked back to the mansion and headed straight to our room to begin packing. In an uncanny case of impeccable timing, Chrystal suddenly showed up in the doorway, leaning against the door post, dressed in her bathing suit with her sunglasses clipped in her hair. As I was still pissed off, I ignored her and continued packing, figuring she would leave soon enough. Next time I glanced in her general direction, however, she quickly reached for her bikini top and pulled it over her tits, exposing them. Without pause, she reached for the little knot that was keeping her bikini bottoms up and undid it. I couldn't believe my eyes as she threw both pieces of clothing to the ground. 

Here I was, staring at her big tits and neatly trimmed bush again, after all that time. The seemingly lost memories all came rushing back and while my lingering anger vanished, my cock rose to attention. All right, I had time to play, I figured. I walked up to her, took out my hard cock and stroked it a couple of times. When I was right in front of her, I reached out to cup one of her tits, but she slapped my hand away. No touching, okay, I can do that, I thought. To be honest, getting my hand slapped away only made my cock harder and thicker, so I tried it again a couple of times. First, one of her tits again, then her arm and finally I tried to touch her pussy, only to get slapped away harder each time. 

I sank to my knees and looked up at her as I furiously jacked off my throbbing fat cock. I may have been able to misinterpret her heavy breathing or the horny look in her eyes, but when she seductively bit her lower lip, there was no longer any doubt. The fucking bitch was actually enjoying this! She squatted down, opening her legs as wide as she could in the process and slowly reached for my crotch, briefly brushing her hand against the purple tip of my cock. As I felt her hand wrapping around my shaft, I stopped what I was doing and let go, thinking - hoping - she was going to give me a handjob. But then she moved her hand down to my balls and grabbed them, firmly, but without actually hurting me - yet. I felt like kicking myself for making such an obvious tactical mistake; even with her limited strength, she could have easily crippled me right then and there. Fearing this had all been a ruse to trick me into this vulnerable position, I was preparing for a world of hurt. She grinned, recognizing the fear in my eyes and enjoyed the absolute power she had over me.

But then, after fifteen seconds of wondering if I'd be able to walk again anytime soon, Chrystal suddenly released her grip on my balls and locked both hands behind her head, opening her mouth as wide as she could and sticking her tongue out invitingly. It was one of the most submissive acts I had ever seen! Without knowing how I was going to react, she just gave up all control, submitting to my possibly harsh revenge. I got up, gave my cock a few pumps - quickly restoring it to its former hardness - and then crammed my tip in her mouth, roughly. With her hands still locked behind her head, she looked up at me and started bobbing her head up and down my hard shaft. After every few sucks, she took my erection a little deeper until she actually started gagging during each bob of the head. 

The gagging noises she was producing drove me crazy and pushed me over the edge in three minutes flat. Figuring she wouldn't mind a facial - seeing how she was blatantly submitting herself to me - I waited till the last possible moment to pull my cock out of her mouth and jack off in her face. Instead of objecting or even getting upset, she simply closed her eyes and took my goo in her stupid face like a real pro. When I was empty, I smacked my half-hard cock against her face a couple of times before stepping back and admiring the mess I had made. Chrystal picked up her bikini and stumbled out of the room, my fresh cum stinging in her eyes. So, there I was, on my knees, having just unloaded my balls, in front of my mother, the most annoying, stuck-up, egotistical bitch I knew. I hated her guts and the feeling was probably mutual, but even after two years, I still clearly lusted after her. I used some toilet paper from a nearby bathroom to clean up whatever cum I had spilled on the floor and then laid down on the bed, mulling things over.

I wondered if I was doing the right thing by leaving; after all, if I decided to stay, my wife would be very, very grateful and with my mother apparently putting out as well, I had a unique opportunity here. But before I could make that decision I had to know if this had been a onetime thing or if Chrystal was up for some more unemotional, meaningless sex. I finished packing - figuring that would make for a stronger case with my wife - and put on some loose shorts, exploring the mansion for a while until my cock was ready to go again. 

I found Chrystal by the pool, topless, working on her tan. She glanced over her mystery novel as she saw me walking towards her. There was no time for subtlety, I had to make sure she'd be a willing slut if I was going to stay and put up with her jerk of a husband. I walked over to her sun tanning bed, sat down beside her and immediately put a hand on her tit, cupping it. She glanced at me briefly, but didn't object. I wobbled her tit up and down, slowly and gently at first, but in the end quite roughly and obscenely. Still she kept reading, so far so good. I reached out with both hands and mauled her tits for a second, then grabbed both nipples between my fingers and tugged at them mildly. I felt them become erect as I pulled harder and harder. Although her face contorted with discomfort and lust - while she idly stared at her book - she still didn't object; this was looking good!

I let go of her tits and slid one hand down to her crotch, worked my middle and index fingers into her bikini bottoms and wriggled them inside of her, fingering her wet pussy while she pretended to read. After fingering her quite roughly for a while without getting as much as a sign of acknowledgement - aside from some involuntary whimpers and moans - I smiled to myself and decided then and there that I was going to stay. I gently pulled my fingers out of her and got off the bed, undoing the knot that was holding up my shorts. As I was trying to decide which end I wanted to fuck, Chrystal surprised me by simply reaching up and sliding her hand up the right leg of my shorts, grabbing my half-hard cock and gently tugging at it. She didn't even look up from her book; she just pulled the foreskin of my cock back and used her index finger to stimulate my exposed cock head, getting me hard in no time at all. 

Once my cock was fully erect and throbbing, she pulled my shorts down and started jacking it loosely in her fist - still not taking her eyes off her book. When she had to flip a page, she put the book down on her lap, flipped the page and picked up her book again, all with her free hand. It was the most detached handjob I had ever seen. At first, I didn't think she'd be able to finish me off, but she was surprisingly skilled! When I realized I was going to cum, I decided not to say anything; if she wanted to give me the silent treatment, I would do the same to her, I figured. Alas, she seemed to know exactly when I was cumming. Although I didn't grunt, moan or move in any way, she moved her book up to my cock just as my cum was rushing up my fat shaft. 

As she stared at my cock, she furiously jacked out my load, getting it all over the open pages of her book. To my surprise, she closed it as soon as she had squeezed out the last of my cum and got up, putting on her bikini top. As I watched her leave, I caught myself looking at her ass sashaying away from me. I stuffed my cock back into my shorts and laid down on one of the sun beds, several meters away from where she'd been sitting. With my balls drained twice in the last two hours, I drifted off to sleep very quickly.

When I woke up, I looked at my watch. It was past 6pm and there was no sign of either Bill nor my wife; just Chrystal, sitting at the outdoor dinner table. Figuring Susan and her dad had decided to have dinner in town, I got up and stumbled over to the table. As my eyes focused for the first time on the dinner setting, I suddenly realized two things: one, Chrystal had already finished eating - she hadn't even had the decency to wait for me. And two, which made me forget all about the first thing, she wasn't wearing her bikini top anymore. Her perfect globes stared at me from across the table. I knew there was no point in trying to make conversation, so I just started filling my plate with some grilled meat and vegetables. She simply looked at me and sipped from her glass of red wine.

Suddenly, before I had even taken a bite, Chrystal got up, pulled down her bikini bottoms and walked over to my side of the table. She put her left foot on the edge of it, inches from my plate so that her trimmed cunt was now staring me in the face. I didn't hesitate and bent my head down, pressing my face against her pussy and started licking her. The first ten to twenty seconds, all I could smell were scented oils, but once she started getting wet and her juices started flowing, her own scent started to overpower the flowery smell and my nostrils filled themselves with her pheromones. This caused me to really dive in and eat her out with even greater zeal. I licked, lapped and tongue-fucked her cunt for what seemed like ten minutes or more. Without warning, she suddenly put her foot down and walked back to her seat, pouring herself another glass of wine, clearly frustrated and in desperate need of a sexual climax. After briefly sipping from her glass, she put it down and ran both hands through her hair, clearly very horny!

After playing with her hair for a little while, her hands began to descend; first to her shoulders, then to her breasts, her tummy and finally towards her crotch. Seeing her hands caress and play with her body like that, right in front of me, aroused me immensely and gave me another huge erection. After teasing herself - and me - for several more minutes, Chrystal stuck two fingers up her twat and started fingering herself passionately, her free hand still wandering over her sensitive skin, caressing herself anywhere and everywhere. About three or four minutes later, she climbed onto the table, getting on her knees, without taking her fingers out of her pussy. Using her free hand and both knees, she cleared a path across the table, pushing a salad bowl, a bread basket, my plate, my glass and some cutlery onto the floor. 

As she sat there, right on the edge of the table, as close to my seat as possible, she started masturbating feverishly, without any sign of shyness. The lust radiating from her, as well as her self-confidence - bordering on arrogance - were driving me crazy and made me eager to submit myself to her. I slid off my chair onto my knees and presented my face as close to her pussy as I could. As she looked down at me with contempt - feigned or not - I whipped out my hard cock and started jacking off in anticipation of what I was going to let her do to me. She diddled her clit and fingered her cunt for another minute or five, before convulsing and squirting right in my face, multiple times, over and over again. I am a bit ashamed to admit that this vile act made me cum harder than I had cum in a very long time. I shot several large ropes of thick cum across the terrace tiles as Chrystal soaked a large part of my face. 

Because of our relative positions and the fact that I hadn't moaned or grunted during my own climax, there was no way for her to know whether I had cum or not. Yet, as soon as her orgasm was over, she just hopped off the table, grabbed both parts of her bikini and walked off, heading inside. She just left me there, not caring whether I had derived any pleasure or relief from her little performance. After zipping up and taking my seat again, I used Chrystal's plate and glass - after licking her twat and getting sprayed in the face by her, it seemed like a small step - as mine lay shattered on the terrace floor. It felt strange, but not unpleasant, to have dinner by myself; it was very relaxing. After finishing whatever was left of the wine and leaving everything exactly where it was - the broken glass and plate, the shattered bowl, the bread basket, the food and my cum - I got up and headed for my room, assuming one of their servants would take care of our mess.

I figured I'd talk to Susan when she got back, but apparently shooting my load three times had taken more energy out of me than I had anticipated. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head touched my pillow. When I opened my eyes the following morning, I was nearly 10am. Susan's side of the bed had been slept in, but was empty, except for a note, saying that she was going down for breakfast and that she loved me. I smiled down at my cock, realizing this was going to be a great day. I put on some shorts and a t-shirt and headed down the endless hallways and corridors to find my wife or the breakfast table, whichever I would come across first.




Inappropriate Ch. 02



As I approached the kitchen, I noticed Chrystal standing at the kitchen island waiting for her toast to pop. She was wearing a purple bikini set and a white, vintage, crochet bolero jacket. Glancing through one of the windows in the hallway, leading up to the kitchen, I noticed Susan and her father sitting outside, having breakfast. Apparently I was the last one to wake up. When she saw me heading towards the kitchen, Chrystal quickly put her plate down and walked around the island towards me. Just before I was about to step into view of Susan and her father, the bitch cupped my crotch as she passed me by.

"Good morning," I whispered, pleasantly surprised.

She didn't say a word and simply headed for the stairs at the end of the hallway. I hesitated for just a second before turning and following her. As she climbed the stairs, she took off her white bolero and let it slide off her arms; it landed half on the top step of the stairs, half on the first floor landing. I then followed her down the west corridor, where she unhooked her bikini top and threw it against a painting she passed by. At the end of that corridor, she took a left and headed down another, more narrow corridor. There she stepped out of her bikini bottoms and continued her route, which only took another three seconds. Our destination was apparently a remote seating area, snobbishly and exclusively decorated with furniture far too expensive to ever use. Some of it was still covered with sheets. 

As I gawked around, looking at all the extravagant cabinets, chairs and paintings, Chrystal walked towards the far corner of the room and picked up a large painting, not much smaller than herself. It was an oil painting of her husband, Bill - a pretty accurate one too - looking straight in front of him, with a typical aristocratic look on his face. I could see why she hadn't hung it up yet. She grabbed the golden frame, encompassing the painting, with both hands and carried it to the center of the room, where she laid it down on the thick Eastern carpet, facing upwards. With her back to me, she kicked off her slippers and kneeled down on the painting, getting on all fours, hanging her head submissively down right above Bill's face.

"What the fuck?" I thought to myself. This was some freaky shit, but my huge erection would not be denied. I quickly took off my shorts and boxers and got on my knees behind her, my knees just outside the golden frame. As I got into position, stroking my fat cock a few times, Chrystal hovered her face even closer to the painting, staring her husband in his painted eyes as she reached back with her right hand between her legs and blocked her cunt with it. Realizing what she wanted, I put the tip of my cock against her asshole and leaned forward, softly stretching her asshole until it could accommodate me. As I entered her, she pulled her hand away from her cunt and placed it next to her husband's head.

"You fucking cunt," I whispered as I began to fuck her. Without any lube, it was tough and probably rather uncomfortable for her; but hey, if this was what she wanted - to get buggered in her overpriced living room, on top of a painting of her husband, by her son who hated her guts - then that's exactly what she was going to get. I took me nearly a whole minute to stuff enough of my dick up her ass to be able to bang her properly, but she took it like a real pro - screaming and squealing at the painting. I couldn't believe what a whore she was, and for me of all people! I tried to hold back for as long as I could, believe me, I wanted nothing more than to keep fucking that stuck-up bitch up her ass, but after just three minutes, it was all over. I convulsed violently as I pumped my sperm up her ass. She squealed extra hard during my final thrusts and laid down flat on her stomach, her face right on top of Bill's once I had pulled out of her. I got on my back on the carpet and relaxed, enjoying the aftermath of my fantastic orgasm. After a minute or so, I said, "After breakfast, I want you to take your husband for a walk so I can fuck the shit out of my wife, understood?"

She didn't reply, took her slippers and walked out, probably retracing her steps and putting her clothes - she had shedded so slutty and casually - back on. As I wanted to give her a head start of a few minutes, I took my time looking at the painting we had just defiled; her clammy hands and knees had left some minor smudges and there were several droplets of cum at the bottom, probably from when I pulled out of her. I smiled and headed down, finally reaching the breakfast table. I gave my wife a kiss on the cheek and started eating, I was positively famished. As now both Chrystal and Bill ignored me and Susan didn't want to talk to either one of them in my presence - it was her way of supporting me - all conversation grinded to an awkward halt in a matter of seconds. I didn't care one little bit, on the contrary; this suited my purpose perfectly!

When everyone had finished eating, Chrystal asked her husband to take a stroll through the vines, as I had ordered her to. A tad reluctant he agreed and so, after putting on her ridiculous hat and her sunglasses, Chrystal and Bill walked off, heading towards the vines. As soon as her parents were out of sight, Susan looked over at me and whispered, "I missed you last night... and this morning."

I looked at her and said, "I know how much this trip means to you, so... how grateful would you be if I decided to stay till the end of the week, just as a favor to you?"

"Really?" she asked, her eyes lighting up.

"I'll even apologize to your father, if you make it worth my while," I smiled.

She smiled back, slowly reached into my boxers and asked, "Are you serious?"

"That depends on your offer," I grinned.

"Well mister, if you're serious about apologizing to my father although he was clearly in the wrong, that would prove to me that you're the bigger man... and you know how much I like big men," she giggled as she fished out my growing erection.

"I suppose I would have to be a complete slut for you," she said as she lowered her head towards my cock. 

"Susan wait," I tried to stop her, remembering where my cock had been not forty minutes ago, "I haven't washed down there yet."

"I don't care," she whispered as she continued lowering her head and sniffed my cock and balls, making sure she knew what she was getting herself into.

"Hmmm," she said, appraising the situation for a second or two. Then, still not sure, she engulfed my small dick with her eager mouth and swirled her tongue around it for about five seconds.

Then, she lifted her head, still looking down and said, "Interesting smell, the taste is not that bad!" and with that, she engulfed my cock again and started sucking it for real this time.

The fact that she was cleaning her mother's ass juices off my cock gave me huge, fucking boner. She moaned enthusiastically as she felt my cock grow in her mouth until she could hardly fit in there anymore. After going down on me like a hoover for a couple of minutes, she poked her head up and said, as she energetically stroked my cock, "Tell me what to do and I'll do it!"

"I wanna fuck you up the ass... in your parents bed," I blurted out.

For a few seconds, she didn't speak or move - not even to jack me off. For a moment, I was afraid she was going to jump up angry and leave me there with my massive boner. Which wouldn't have been the end of the world, as her slut of a mother would gladly haven taken her place upon her return.

But then my wife surprised me somewhat by saying, "Fine, let's go."

I got up and grabbed her hand, letting her lead me inside, up the stairs to the first floor and down several corridors. 

Suddenly she stopped and said, "I'll go get the lube, you go on ahead: take a left here and it's the third door on the right." 

As Susan ran off, presumably to our bedroom to find some lube, I followed her instructions and entered her parents' bedroom. It was all I expected: big and full of grotesque, antique crap. The bed - although also antique - was fortunately pretty standard. 

About a minute later, Susan walked in, closed the door and took off all her clothes in just a few seconds.

"You want me to suck it some more or are you good to go?" she asked bluntly.

"I am good to go," I said, jacking my cock and taking the lube from her. As she climbed onto the bed and waited for me on all fours, I stepped out of my clothes, rubbed some lube on my cock and got on the bed, positioning myself behind her. As I shoved it into her, she squealed and lowered her head into one of the pillows. With her muffled squealing filling the room and my cock plunging in and out of her slutty ass, I couldn't help but be astonished how much my wife acted, sounded and fucked like her mother. 

Pretty soon her hands were going berserk over her clit, stimulating herself, desperate for a good orgasm. As always, getting fucked on all fours - especially up her ass - made her extremely nasty and slutty and so she molested her cunt and clit up to the point where she couldn't stand it any longer before allowing herself to cum. She convulsed so violently, bucking against her own fingers - lodged deep inside of her - that my lubed up cock slipped out of her asshole. She immediately turned onto her back and continued fingering herself as she was trying to prolong her tremendous orgasm for as long as possible. In the midst of her climax, I said, "I am going to cum on your face!" I wasn't asking permission, I was informing her!

Now Susan wasn't a big fan of ass-fucking - she would only let me do once or twice a year - but she passionately hated the whole concept of a facial. She was perfectly fine with getting cum on any other part of her body, but her face had always been off limits. For her, it was the ultimate humiliation a woman could endure. However, in this instant, she surprised me by not even trying to object. I quickly got into position next to her face and continued whacking my fat cock. 

As her fingers were pistoning in and out of her sopping wet cunt, she looked at me and groaned, "I hope it's a big load [grunt]... I never let [grunt] you do this... [grunt] so make it count [grunt]... come on, give it to me [grunt]... right between my eyes [grunt]!"

After confirming my aim with a last glance, I exploded and shot a big, fat rope clear across her face; an uninterrupted ribbon of gooey cum from her left cheek to her right eye. As soon as my cum splattered against her skin, the little slut convulsed and started cumming. The first ribbon was immediately followed by another one, this one starting at her left eye - creaming it shut - and ending way up in her hair. After that, it was just a bunch of droplets flying everywhere.

As she felt my cum raining down on her, she reached the peak of her orgasm - trashing and shuddering - and shrieked, "Oh god, this is so disgusting... oooooooo... I am such a degenerate whore!"

"Yes, you are," I said as I squeezed out the last speck of cum, wiping it on the tip of her nose. 

I laid down next to her as she continued sloppily fingering herself for another couple of minutes, my cum drying on her face. With her fingers still in her wet, little twat, she turned her head to face me and asked, "Did you like that?"

"I did," I smiled, "We should do this more often, you look amazing with cum on your face!"

She giggled and said, "Yeah, I bet I do."

After using the sheets to clean my cum off her face, she got up, picked up her clothes and said, "I am going to take a shower, care to join me?"

"Nah, I want to keep your smell on me," I replied as I got dressed as well.

"Suit yourself," she smiled as she walked out of the room.

I knew that, after an orgasm like this - or even multiple, who knows - Susan would be good to go for several days, if not a week. Under normal circumstances, I would maybe be able to get another hand- or blowjob out of her in a few days, but considering the unique situation, I was curious to see what kind of additional action her gratitude would get me. I looked at my watch as I headed downstairs; it was almost noon. I took off my shirt and jumped into the pool, relaxing for a few minutes, before starting to swim some laps. About twenty minutes later, Susan came down and laid down on one of the sunbeds. Having swum enough laps for the day, I dried off and laid down next to my wife. We talked a little bit, then Susan went for a dip while I made us a drink. 

We were in the middle of a toast when Chrystal and Bill came back from their walk. I immediately got up and extensively apologized to Bill, blurting out all kinds of crap, meanwhile telling myself I was going to fuck the shit out the two most important women in his life. He shook my hand with a smug smile on his face and forgave all my sins with a few majestic words, acting like he was god himself.

While Bill went inside to pour himself and Chrystal a drink as well, Susan complimented me on being the bigger man and hugged me. While she was hugging me, I had clear shot at my mother who looked at me with a strange expression on her face, not just lust, but also - dare I say - a hint of respect. 

While her daughter was hugging me and her husband was out of sight, she opened her legs and pulled her bikini bottoms to the side for a moment, giving me a straight shot at her beaver. When Bill returned with their drinks, Chrystal unexpectedly excused herself, saying she was going to lay down for a while. I knew she wanted me to follow her, but with Bill and I being best friends again, I was forced to listen to him ramble on for nearly ten minutes, before I had a chance to excuse myself too, claiming I had an upset stomach. I walked up the stairs and navigated the corridors looking for my mother. I found her in the same room I had defiled her in this morning. My mouth fell open in shock as I saw her standing there, wearing black, lace panties and a matching bra, dark brown, thigh high stockings and what were probably the most uncomfortable high heels I had ever seen. 

She walked towards the painting - which was still where we had left it this morning - and kneeled down at the top half of it, her feet still on the carpet, her knees positioned on each side of Bill's smug face. After glancing down to confirm that her crotch was right above his face, she pulled her black panties aside with one hand and wriggled two fingers of her other hand up her twat, without any kind of foreplay. As she looked straight ahead, at nothing in particular, she started fingering herself fast and crude. Pretty soon, juicy sopping noises filled the room and as I gawked at what was probably the most fucked-up - but still erotic - performance I had ever seen in real life, I undid my pants and whipped out my hardening cock. Chrystal looked so sexy in her stimulating lingerie, yet so lewd for what she was doing to her husband's painting, that I found myself gasping for air within seconds after wrapping my fist around my tube. After a minute or so, I noticed her juices leaking down her hand, onto Bill's face - which was in, all likelihood, the purpose of this whole endeavor.

I stroked hard and fast as I watched her masturbate, her stunning body cladded in some slutty lingerie. Some four of five minutes later, I felt my balls contract and I knew, that if I wanted to please her, there was really only one place to shoot my load. So, without any hesitation, I got down on my knees on the painting, facing her and leaned on one hand as I jacked my cum out of my balls with the other, spraying all over Bill's painted body. I looked straight at her as I moaned and bucked, and I could actually see her smiling, as she glanced down at the mess I was making. When the last drop had dripped from my cock, I got off the painting and sat down on my ass on the carpet, leaning my back against one of the three sofas. Enticed and inspired by the mess I had made, Chrystal got up and placed her feet at the exact same spot where her knees had been. Because she was wearing very high and pointy heels, they pierced right through the canvas. With her fingers still deftly at work in her pussy, she squatted down, bringing her soggy cunt back to within an inch of the painting. 

In this new, lewder position - spread open even wider than before - she leaked and squirted some more of her juices onto Bill's face. She knew she was making a big mess and she liked every second of it; so much even that she climaxed in that position, right in front of me. Placing her free hand on the golden frame for support, as so not the fall over, she quivered and squealed as she squirted freely all over the painting. When she was done abusing herself - not to mention the painting - she collapsed on the carpet, right next to the painting and breathed heavily for a few minutes. I just sat there, looking at her, gawking at her sexy lingerie while she recuperated. Eventually we both dozed off.

I was awakened abruptly from the sound of my wife's voice, calling out to me from somewhere in the house, "Honey?"

Then I heard Bill's voice, calling his wife, "Chrystal, where are you?" Chrystal and I both jumped up as I looked at my watch. We had been asleep for over two hours, no wonder they came looking! In a joint effort, we picked up the large, soiled and damaged painting and put it back against the wall - where it had been originally. As Chrystal covered it up with one of the sheets lying around, I hastily put on my clothes and waited for her, before heading for the door. Although there was only one way in and out of this room, I was not about to navigate the maze of corridors alone while two people were looking for me. After taking off her high heels, she walked out of the room and lead me down several corridors, before stopping abruptly as she noticed her daughter's - my wife's - voice coming closer.

She tapped my arm and entered one of the rooms we had just passed, closed the door behind us and took my hand, guiding me across the large unlit room towards another door, leading to another corridor. After turning the next corner, she pulled me into what appeared to be a broom closet, barely big enough to accommodate the both of us. Just seconds later, as we stood there in complete darkness, we could hear her husband's footsteps as he passed by, calling out for us. Suddenly Chrystal started squirming. At first, I thought she was leaning into something which was causing her discomfort, but after a few seconds, I realized she was unclasping her bra and taking it off. As I heard her husband's voice in one of the adjacent corridors, her bra fell to the ground and I could feel her reaching for her panties, pushing them down. As the space inside the closet was very limited, she had to raise and twist one leg at a time to be able to take them off completely. Then, just a few moments later, I heard squishy noises and realized she was playing with herself, again, probably already having two or three fingers up her twat. 

As her musky scent quickly filled the entire broom closet, my dick started getting hard again and out of pure instinct, driven by lust, I leaned against the wall behind me and - realizing fully well it be virtually impossible to get back up again - slid down on my knees. I pressed my face against her bush and started licking her fingers as they pistoned in and out of her. She quickly pulled her fingers out the way and let me work, squirming against the opposite wall as she opened her legs a little wider. As I really dove in, my left hand started stroking her stockings, from the elastic band at the top all the way down to her sexy feet, while I used the right one to whip out my cock. I lapped at her cunt like a dehydrated dog for several minutes, while jacking off like an oversexed teenager.




Inappropriate Ch. 02



Suddenly, without any warning, Chrystal leaned towards the door and opened it. Still not speaking to me, she squirmed and wriggled out from between me and the wall and stumbled out. Curious as to what she was up to now, I wiped my mouth with my hand and staggered to my feet, stuffing my hard dick back in my boxers. After closing the closet behind us, leaving her bra, panties and high heels behind, she led me through several more rooms and corridors, towards a more familiar part of the mansion: the guest room where Susan and I slept. As we heard Susan and her father calling out to us in the distance, far enough to be safe for quite a while, Chrystal laid down on top of the bed, spreading her legs high and wide as she looked at me. Normally, I would have jumped her and fucked the shit of her without hesitation, but the fact that she was lying where my wife and I slept, caused some minor uneasiness. 

Chrystal, apparently in a hurry, became slightly annoyed by my - three seconds of - inaction and jumped up from the bed, walking into the adjoining bathroom. After rummaging through our pile of dirty laundry for a few moments, she walked back out, holding a pair of my wife's panties and a bra and started putting them on. I couldn't believe what I was seeing: god, she was such a whore! So desperate for another fuck that she put on her daughter's worn underwear. I loved it!

Needless to say that that sealed the deal for me, and for my cock, which was about to climb out of my boxers on its own if I didn't release it soon. As Chrystal laid down on the bed again, dressed in my wife's underwear, in the same whory pose as before, I walked up to the bed, stepping out of my shorts and boxers. I kneeled in between her legs, pulled my wife's panties out of the way and rammed my enormously hard dick in her whory twat. As soon as I was in, I grabbed her legs and started hammering away, pounding into her with such force, that she had to push off against the head board with both hands if she didn't want to end up with a headache. This was exactly the kind of fucking she was after!

Several minutes into the fuck, she started bucking and trashing wildly, making it more difficult for me to keep fucking her at a normal pace. But she was also getting pretty loud, so I had to stuff a pillow in her face to stifle her squealing as I kept her down with both hands while I rammed my cock in and out of her. As I had already shot several loads today and because Chrystal had started climaxing so soon into the fuck, I was able to keep going for quite some time, drilling her through several powerful orgasms. Her convulsions flared up and died down with the coming and going of each one, but her screaming and squealing continued. If it hadn't been for the pillow absorbing most of it, Bill and Susan would have had no trouble locating us. As the minutes past, Chrystal became less energetic and less loud as she was burning through her available energy pretty fast.

By the time I was ready to cum, her vigorous bucking and trashing had weakened to some minor coiling and curving, and her screaming had been reduced to a more acceptable level. She was positively exhausted and probably going to pass out if I kept going for a few more minutes. Having no interest in fucking an unconscious cunt - not even this one - I pressed my head into her rack and sniffed my wife's bra. That gave me the extra incentive I needed to shoot my fuck cream deep in Chrystal's ravaged hole. To my surprise, she ran her hand through my hair as I convulsed on top of her, pressing my face deeper into her tits, inhaling even more of my wife's scent.

As I laid there on top of her, catching my breath and pretty proud of myself, I started thinking on how we were going to get out of this. Chrystal was as good as naked and nowhere near any of her clothes, my wife and my father were looking for us and the room my wife and I slept in now reeked of raunchy sex. But on the other hand, if I could overcome these minor obstacles, there were still a couple of days of wild sex ahead of me. Maybe I could even get another screw out of my wife...

No paintings were harmed during the actual writing of this story.



Inappropriate Ch. 03



Three weeks went by without either of us mentioning that night. It could have been a dream if it weren't for the dark looks I occasionally received from my sister whenever Vicky and I were together. After that night, I was determined to make things work between us, to have an honest shot at a normal relationship, one that wouldn't land me in prison.

Yes, prison. Turns out, my home state carried a twenty-five year sentence. There was very little information available on consensual incest, but there was plenty on the non-consensual variety, including a slew of Land and Order: SVU episodes. Everything I learned confirmed my worst fears, and left me convinced that I'd made the right choice, no matter how painful it was.

Jen and I made every effort to continue on like nothing had happened, both in private and in public. But something had broken between us and it became more and more difficult for us to even be in the same room together. The gang still met on occasion at Vicky and Michelle's dorm room, but we went our separate ways more often than not. Vicky and I would go to her room. Michelle, Ryan, and Nick would hang out in the living room, and Jennifer eventually just stopped showing up altogether.

We rarely spoke, even when we were at home. Whole days would pass without either of us uttering a word to one another. I felt like I was going crazy. I wanted desperately to reach out, to touch her, hold her, tell her that I loved her and that when I imagined the future, that she was the only part of it that mattered.

But my sister deserved better than that. Husband, kids, picket fence, and all that. She deserved better than stolen moments and a life of constant fear. She deserved better than scorn, shame, and ridicule. She deserved better than metal bars and an orange suit. So I stayed silent, hoping that this...obsession would pass and the two of us would figure out a way to be a normal brother and sister.

While the cold war raged between me and my sister, my relationship with Vicky maintained the same stagnant pace. Sleep was becoming difficult to come by. Vicky had taken to staying overnight with me on weekends, but I was starting to sense that it was more about staking a claim than it was prolonging intimacy. 

Jennifer and Vicky are entirely different as bed mates. Jennifer snores for one. Not loud, but enough to notice. She's a rather messy sleeper too, sprawling across the entire bed, entangling her limbs with my own.

Vicky on the other hand slept like the dead. Silent and still, she curled into a tight ball, affording me so much space I sometimes forgot she was there.

I heard my bedroom door creak open late one night as I lay awake, still in the grip of insomnia. I kept my eyes closed tight, wanting to avoid another whispered argument with my twin. Vicky had every right to be there and Jennifer was just going to have to learn to live with it.

My conclusion, however well-reasoned, didn't make me feel any less guilty as my sister quietly retreated back into her own bed. I tried to put that thought and all others out of my head as gazed at Jennifer's tightly shut door, hoping I was imagining the sound of a lost girl crying in the dark.

As the spring approached, the cracks in the armor became deeper and more jagged. Vicky excitedly made plans for a spring break road trip, one which included the entire group, save for my sister. "Well, I thought she had her own friends now," Vicky explained, feigning sympathy. "I didn't think she'd want to come." 

This slight and others didn't go unnoticed by Jennifer, and what started as a quasi-amicable rivalry between the two women escalated to the point of outright contempt, with Vicky getting the upper hand at every turn. Things were coming to a head.

-

By some small miracle, Nick and I were invited to a genuine college party by some guy named Dave. Nick was given a laundry list of alcohol to provide in exchange for his admission, while my sole instructions were to, "make sure that fine-ass sister of yours shows up." As much as I despised the notion of Dave or any other drunken frat boy piece of shit even touching my sister, I thought that socializing with our peers might do us all some good. 

The atmosphere in the Vicky's dorm room had grown suffocating since Jen's departure. Michelle was never the most social person, even by our standards, but now she rarely looked up from her computer. Nick and I were forbidden from Halo, Madden, and all other forms of digital distraction when Vicky was in the room, which was goddamn always. Ryan and I had even less to say to one another now that our jam sessions had come to an end. As for Vicky, I honestly kind of hated her.

And so, the six of us made our way to Dave's house. As expected, the place was a dilapidated hell hole, worn down by years of abuse and neglect. But there was beer, and beer can make anything better.

We arrived separately. Vicky and I rode in her car, Michelle and Ryan in his van, and Nick and Jennifer in his truck, thus affording each of us a convenient exit without burdening the entire group. It also had the unspoken benefit of keeping Jen and Vicky away from each other.

Vicky had something of a tomboyish streak about her, which I actually liked as a rule, but clashed considerably with the designated feminine attire of the event. All the other girls were dressed in cocktail dresses of some kind or another. I was actually a little excited about the prospect of showing up at a social function with a date that wasn't my twin, so the fact that we were dressed almost identically, jeans, leather jacket, and Tom Petty/Rolling Stones t-shirts kind of undermined the whole effect.

Jennifer on the other hand looked like something out of a dream. She wore a little black dress, a very little black dress, which basically consisted of a strip of shiny cloth that served to cover her ass and sort of cover her tits, albeit very poorly. I didn't know that she owned such a gratuitous article of "fuck me" clothing, so I assumed she bought it just for this occasion.

Shit, she caught me staring. The last thing I needed in a public venue. She seemed please though, almost smug. I tried to regain my composure with a joke.

"Mug a tween for that get-up?" I asked sarcastically, making a mental note not to state at my sister's cleavage.

"I know, right?" she agreed. "I'm practically spilling out of this thing. They just don't make a decent dress anymore for a girl with tits. I was going for Breakfast at Tiffany's, not Girls Gone Wild."

"You look beautiful Jen." I whispered softly. She smiled brightly at me, a warm genuine smile miles away from stone silent sister I'd failed to grow accustomed to. Naturally that was Vicky's cue to fuck it up.

"Jennifer, nice to see you as always," Victoria said diplomatically.

"Vicky," Jen replied stiffly.

"I love your dress. I bet you'll get plenty of attention wearing that," Vicky said, her eyes glancing down at Jennifer's ample breasts. I never cease to be amazed at a woman's ability to mask an insult with a compliment.

"I know, it's a little revealing. Must be nice not to worry about that," Jen fired back. It was not secret that Vicky's figure was a little on the boyish side, and her manner of dress did nothing to help that fact, but even I had to admit it was a low blow.

"Why don't we get drinks?" I suggested, eager to diffuse the situation. Jennifer, sensing that she'd been offered an opportunity to exit the conversation gracefully, excused herself and faded into the crowd. Vicky and I made our way to the bar, where Dave, at least, I think it was Dave, offered us both a bright red cup full of coldish beer.

Despite early setbacks, the night held some promise. There would be drinking, there would be dancing, and hopefully the combination of alcohol and poor judgment would make Vicky the Ice Queen a little more pliable in the bedroom. 

Unfortunately, Vicky insisted on talking instead of drinking, and instead of receiving another lecture on the genius of Albert Hitchcock, I was treated to an angry tirade about my sister.

"Thanks for your help by the way," she muttered after stewing for several minutes.

"You're...welcome?" I offered. Wrong answer.

"Look, maybe you don't care that she just waltzed up to us dressed like some cheap whore, but the least you could do is actually stand up for me when I'm being insulted right to my face," Vicky demanded.

I bit my lip, holding back a vicious and poorly thought out defense of my sister's honor, mindful that neither of them were in the right in that exchange. "She's not a whore," I muttered. I couldn't help myself.

"See! That, right there! No matter what it is, you always take her side! I'm sick of coming second to your sister Jack!" Vicky shouted.

We were starting to attract a crowd. Apparently people were still sober enough to take an interest in our squabble. I spotted my sister toward the back of the horde. She slipped her way past it and grabbed me by the hand, as if she was trying to rescue me.

"We need to talk," she muttered as she started to pull me away.

"I'm his girlfriend Jennifer!" Vicky protested, prompting Jennifer to turn around. "That means we should be able to go to on social event without you lurking around the corner like some kind of pathetic stalker. And to be honest, this jealousy of yours is more than a little inappropriate."

"You want inappropriate?" Jennifer challenged.

Before I knew what was happening, my sister linked her hands behind my neck, pulled me in, and kissed me. Not a quick, chaste, familial kiss. Not a lingering, intimate, borderline inappropriate kiss. She put everything into that kiss, all her joy and fear and anger and regret, everything she was and is and ever could be. She kissed me like we were the only two people in the world. Only we weren't. Everyone, fucking everyone was watching.

Thank holy Christ, most of the people at that party had no idea who we were. But some did, and even one was far too many. Especially since she was standing right next to us, her face contorted in revulsion and fury.

Jennifer froze, the implications of what she had done and where she had done it flashing across her face in silent horror. When we were kids, she had a bad habit of making leaving me to clean up our mutual messes. This was no different. She literally ran from the room, fighting her way past a horde of morbidly curious onlookers.

This situation made me a firm believer that a human being can indeed be rendered speechless. I just stood there, trying to process a couple of thousand thoughts and sensations at once. I needed to do something, anything. "Vicky, I..." I stammered hoarsely. Only she wasn't the one I needed to talk to right now.

There was pain and anger in her face and all manner of other emotion, but she didn't look surprised. It was if every terrible thing, every suspicion she ever had about my relationship with my sister was simple inevitable, and had finally come to pass. For the first time, we were on the same page. "Save it Jack," she spat acidly. "You two fucking deserve each other."

Vicky stood there, waiting for me to defend myself, waiting me make an excuse, come up with a logical reason why when Jennifer kissed me I didn't recoil in horror. But Vicky was right. She would always come second to my sister and that was never going to change. 

-

I ended up beating my Jennifer home. Even though we were both on foot, I had the advantage of running without heels. Fifteen minutes later, Jen finally emerged through our front door. Her hair was disheveled and dark black streaks ran down from her eyes.

"Hey," I said quietly.

"Hey," she replied tonelessly.

She took a seat next to me on the couch, tucking her knees into her chest and wrapping herself into a ball. We sat there in the dark, the room illuminated only by the muted images on the television. Both of us waited for the other one to speak.

I broke the silence. "Jen, what the hell?" I asked softly.

"I'm know, I know," she moaned. "I'm sorry, ok? I don't know what came over me."

"If this gets out, do you know what could happen?" I demanded.

"Little late for that, isn't it?" she said weakly as she started digging for her cell phone.

"What do you mean?" I asked darkly. Something told me I had more to fear than the drunken rumor mill.

A familiar scene played out on her screen, cleverly titled, "Twincest Freakshow." Fucking smart phones.

"Good thing Mom and Dad still haven't figured out YouTube yet," she smirked mirthlessly as she put the image away.

"You think this is funny?" I demanded.

"No."

"We have to make this right," I persisted.

"Why?" Jen asked defensively. "You shouldn't even be with her."

"That's not your decision," I asserted, although I was confused as to why I was continuing to defend a relationship I no longer desired.

"So you don't care what it does to me?" Jennifer asked me, her voice shaking with a sort of cracked sadness.

"I don't want to hurt you," I said softly, my frustration suddenly replaced by concern.

"Well, you did. You picked the one way that you could hurt me," she started, her voice cracking up, tears pooling in her eyes, "worse than you could ever understand." She inhaled deeply, trying to hold back a threatening sob. "I know you said that we needed to branch out, open up to other people. And that was ok. It made sense. But when you're with her... You stopped talking to me. I never see you, and when I do you're with her. It's like I don't even exist."

Until that point, I hadn't fully appreciated the damage I had done to my sister. I had no idea how to make it right. "I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

Jennifer laughed, a choked unnatural laugh. "Of course you didn't know. How could you know?" She closed her eyes, massaging her temples. "Our whole lives, we've only had each other," she explained quietly. "But that was ok, because we always had each other, and I never, even on the worst day of my life, ever felt alone. But now...it's like you're leaving me behind."

"I never meant for that to happen," I said solemnly. I was desperate to explain, to make her see that this was the only way. "But don't you think it's time we started living our own lives? Don't you want to get married, start a family, all that? How are we supposed to move forward if we're attached at the hip?

"Is that what you really want?" Good question. I hadn't thought to ask it.

"I don't know!" I shouted in exasperation. "Look, I know Vicky isn't perfect. I don't know if we have a future together, but I feel like if you love me, you'll give me a chance to figure it out."

"If I love you?" Jennifer choked incredulously. "If I love you. Jesus, Jack, are you fucking blind? I'm in love with you!"

And there it was. There was nothing surprising about it. I knew how she felt about me. I felt the same way about her and I probably always had. All it took was my raw, shattered, and infinitely more courageous twin to say it out loud.

"You're...in love with me?" I repeated slowly.

"Fuck. I didn't mean to say that," my sister moaned. I wasn't sure whether or not she meant it. 

She drew a long breath, trying desperately to hold onto what little of her composure remained as she began to explain. "When it was just the two of us, I didn't even think about it. I loved you and you loved me and that's all there was to it. I just assumed it would always be just the two of us and that was enough. But when you started seeing Vicky, everything changed. And I wanted more. And that night, when you and I...for a second I thought that maybe what I was feeling made sense, that it wasn't wrong, that maybe you felt the same way that I did."

I couldn't breathe. It was like the weight of her confession was pressing down on my chest, stripping the air from my lungs. I felt like a goddamn coward.

"It's weird, and it's gross, and it's fucked up, but it's how I feel," Jennifer whimpered, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

That was the moment that I learned that as unforgiving life can be, once in a while you get a second chance. I had no idea what I was supposed to say, and for a few seconds I just stared, trying to formulate a coherent sentence that captured exactly how I felt about my sister. And then a little voice in the back of my mind reminded me that we were twins and that sometimes words were overrated. And so I kissed her.

-

The next several minutes were a blur, my mind overwhelmed by sensation and emotion. I let everything I'd been trying to hold back, the love and pain, into that kiss, savoring it, searing it into my brain. Slowly, the fear that it wasn't real, that this was nothing more than the tortuous machination of a desperate subconscious faded away, and I began to simply enjoy the simple sensations. The faint scent of strawberries. The slight pebbled texture of her tongue. The steady cadence of her breath.

I felt her smile against my lips, causing me to return it in kind. "What?" I asked playfully. The angry black streaks of smeared mascara were still present, but the light had returned to my sister's eyes.

"I dunno. I guess it's just funny how things work out," Jennifer said coyly. "The truth shall set you free, right?"

I regarded her for a moment. She already knew, but she deserved to hear it. "I love you Jennifer," I said, unafraid.

Another kiss, one I felt to my bones. "I love you too," she whispered.

The journey to the bedroom was brief. I had a decent amount of strength within my wiry muscles, so I simply scooped Jennifer into my arms and carried her into our room. We laid side by side, gently exploring each other's bodies as we. My fingers transitioned through the silky strands of her hair, down the warm smooth surface of her face and neck, down, down, down...

Suddenly Jennifer stood up, and for a brief moment I was concerned I had crossed a line, but she was still smiling. Instead, she reached behind her, slowly unzipping the bit of cloth that separated us. Her dress slipped down, releasing the full, pale globes concealed within. She didn't waste time, hooking her panties with her thumbs and pulling them down to the floor. She kicked both garments away, standing before me in all her glory.

"Look at me Jack," my twin said, her eyes blazing. "Just look at me."

I gazed over every inch of her, taking in her fair beauty. I had seen her in varying states of undress before, but this. This was magic. I stood with her, pulling her into me. As our tongues snaked in each other's mouths, I allowed my hands to wander, gliding over the skin of her back. Her hands reached for my waist, pulling my shirt up and over, forcing us to break away for a moment as it stretched over my head.

I smiled to myself as my jeans hit the floor, thankful for once that I had not bothered with a belt. I felt gooseflesh form on my backside, realizing that my boxers had slid down as well. I stepped out of the denim and cotton, Jennifer gently pulling me toward the bed.

Suddenly I was nervous. I had no misgivings about what I wanted to do, but I had certain concerns about my skill, or lack thereof. I'd seen more than my fair share of pornography since I'd discovered how to bypass my parent's browser settings, but it served to intimidate more than educate.

If Jennifer was nervous, she didn't show it. I was certain my sister was a virgin as well, but she certainly didn't seem anxious about it. She smiled warmly at me, beckoning me to join her. I slinked over her, catching her lips once again. My anxiety began to fade as our bodies began to warm to each other. Emboldened, I began kissing my way down her neck, trailing down her clavicle, down the swell of her left breast until finally my lips brushed her nipple.

I took it into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue and teeth. Jennifer's breath hitched, a deep moan reverberated through the room. As I continued my explorations, her breath became shallower and more ragged, and every so often a faint, "Oh my God," would escape her lips.




Inappropriate Ch. 03



A warm slickness started to coat my lower abdomen, matting with the hair on my stomach. I smiled to myself, giddy that I was able to do this to her. I continued my journey south, determined to explore Jennifer's body further.

I caught her scent as I made my way past her navel. It was intoxicating, yet strangely familiar. I recalled a similar aroma on the occasional sleepover. Sometimes I'd wake up to hear Jennifer whimpering in the dark. I used to think it was bad dreams, but now I knew better.

A tuft of course fur tickled my chin as I finally reached her sex. Her folds were glistening, radiating that intoxicating aroma that was starting to fill the room. I idly I wondered if she tasted as good as she smelled.

I had no technique in mind. I briefly considered replicating what I'd seen in Biker Whores 7, but once again I suspected that porn wasn't the most credible of sources. Instead, I gently probed her sex with my tongue, pretending I was making out with her, albeit with a different orifice. The slightly acidic taste took me by surprise at first, but I quickly grew to appreciate it, noting that there was a sort of sweetness laced with the tartness of her juices.

Whatever I did, it worked. Jennifer began to tense and buck, drawing my head forcefully into her snatch. I continued my efforts, lapping at her folds. I could have continued for hours, but as her body started to tense up, she brought my chin up, prompting me to pause.

"I need you Jack. God, I need you now," Jennifer moaned.

That was all the prompting I needed. I slip back up, brushing her lips against mine. I wondered if she could taste her herself on me, but she didn't seem to mind. As we continued kissing, I felt the outside of her folds press gently against my cock, coating it with her juices.

I considered the implications of this, the breaking of this final barrier. These were uncharted waters we were sailing into, my sister and I. There was no going back.

I pulled back ever so slightly, needing to see her, to see all of her. As I looked into her eyes, every fear and doubt I ever had about the two of us was banished. Trust and love were all I saw.

Effortlessly I slid inside her. Eventually I met resistance, but she nodded, so I pressed further. She hissed in pain, making me stop, but she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me, urging me to continue. I was slow and careful, vigilant for the slightest indication that I should stop. It never came. I kissed her cheeks, her neck, and her mouth again and again.

"Faster," she cried, digging her nails into my back. If it made a mark, I didn't feel it. I felt her muscles clench as I moved in and out of her in long, slow strokes. Instinct made up for inexperience. She moved with me, her breathing becoming labored, her eyes watering as she poised on the brink.

"Jennifer..." I whispered. 

My body moved against her, within her, in a rhythmic, timeless beat. Jennifer drew me in deep, and suddenly I felt the same sensation as freefall as the whole world faded from view. She strained against me, wrapping her legs around my hips, rocking with every thrust. I felt my own orgasm begin to build, and I prayed I'd last long enough for the both of us. She cried out as her body seized up, muscles clenched down around me, keeping me inside her as my cock began to spasm. 

I felt more alive than I'd ever felt before. I could hear the rain cascading down on the sidewalk, feel the slickness of our sweat where our skin met. I saw the love and devotion in her eyes as this one last terrible fear had been vanquished. I braced himself on my elbows, and gently brushing back her hair. With that, Jennifer started to cry. 

Concern and dread flooded my veins. "What's wrong?" I asked hesitantly, "Are you okay?" 

She nodded, sniffling.

"Jen?" 

She flung her arms around my neck, hugging me with all her might. "I love you so much," she choked.

"Jesus, Sis. Don't scare me like that," I said, smiling with relief.

She laughed. There were no more tears.

-

We laid in bed together in silence for a while. It wasn't awkward; we'd spent too much of their lives together to be uncomfortable. We simply passed the time, reflecting on all the dismissed innuendos, charged moments, and foreboding silences that led us to this point. And then, of course, there was the future to think about.

"You have a girlfriend," Jennifer stated. It was meant as fact, not accusation.

"Had. Somehow, I don't think that's a problem anymore," I mused.

"You're...welcome?" she smirked. We shared a laugh. It was fun, but we were still dancing around the elephant.

"You're my sister," I said quietly.

"I know."

"We'll have to be careful," I warned.

"I know."

"If anyone finds out about us, especially after tonight..."

"Jack, I know. Trust me, I've had plenty of time to imagine a ridiculous number of nightmare scenarios, some of which involve actual torches and pitchforks." Jennifer explained.

"I always thought it'd be more like 'Law and Order: SVU' and less like 'Frankenstein.'" I replied thoughtfully.

"Wouldn't stop our parents. They'd kill us."

"They'd kill me. You'd have to live at home and go to bible college," I corrected.

"Somehow I don't think the 'daddy's girl' card is going to get me a lighter sentence," my sister laughed.

"You call that light? I think I'd prefer the sweet release of death. You know they believe dinosaurs are a liberal conspiracy and that gay marriage causes hurricanes, right?"

"I'll keep that in mind."

"So what's the plan?" I asked.

"Well, for starters I should probably avoid jumping your bones at frat parties," Jennifer joked.

"I don't know, it worked out pretty well last time," I teased.

Jennifer laughed. "I'm not saying we can't be affectionate. We've always been pretty physical. I think it'd be more suspicious if we were to stop all of the sudden. We just need to keep the PDA within reason."

I nodded in agreement. "You're right," I said. "In the end, it doesn't matter what people think. It matters what they can prove. So as long as this doesn't end up on the web, I think we're good. Speaking of which, you did turn off the webcam, right?"

Jennifer stiffened. "Webcam? What webcam?" she squealed, scanning the room frantically.

I tried my best to keep a neutral expression, but even my best poker face was no match for my sister's scrutiny. "Fuck you," she smirked, hitting me over the head with a pillow.

"Love you too."