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Strange Insertions Ch. 01

By: stago



The sun was setting outside of Madeline Engels' Winnipeg hotel room, and soft rays of color were leaking through the plastic blinds, bathing the room in a gentle cascade of colors: pink and peach, a gentle swelling of red, an orange like marigolds. A cool breeze followed the light in through the open window behind the blinds, and it carried the scent of fall: dry dust, damp leaves and beneath it the crisp scent of freshly lit tobacco from some smoker on the street below. The day outside hardly stirred Madeline, but the smell of tobacco teased her nostrils with its sharp, acrid scent. The taste of smoke on her tongue kindled a fire inside Madeline's gut, a dull yearning ember, orange and glowing in a cradle of dry leaves. It reminded Madeline of every cigarette she hadn't had for over a year.

Madeline had chosen her seventeenth birthday to quit smoking, largely as an act of rebellion against her family. They all smoked; her sister, her mother, her father, all of them. Caught in the usual rush of hormones and teenaged angst she'd suffered through her final school year, fighting with her family as much as she fought with her teachers. On the verge of adulthood, Madeline yearned to escape and be free, to test her new wings and fly, but every day was a new frustration, a new drama. Her birthday had seemed the worst of all. Her parents had cooked porkchops for dinner, even knowing that she'd hate every bite. She'd tried to be a vegetarian for years, but her parents wouldn't let her, saying that they bought the food, and that they made the meals, and that as long as she lived under their roof she'd eat as they did. Madeline had hated that, the insult and injury heaped atop her wounded pride. After her birthday dinner she'd watched her family finish their cigarettes. Then, as they stubbed out their smokes in the communal ashtray she'd let loose, exploding at them in the way that only a teenaged girl can, and loudly swearing to never smoke again. 

That had been a year ago. A year and twenty three days. Now eighteen, bored and tired, Madeline was beginning to feel that a grown woman should be allowed to do as she pleased.

One cigarette. Just one. Adults can smoke if they want to, and it would be the perfect way to finish off the second last day of a week long drive across Canada; a week stuck in a tiny hatchback with her twin sister Jeannine while their parents took turns with the driving. A perfect end to a week visiting family; a week of blacktop and prairie skies; a week without work or school or any other responsibilities; a week without friends or any kind of escape. Madeline wanted a smoke. Madeline deserved a smoke. 

The hotel room was neat and empty, without much to do but watch the same boring shows on the old tube tv. There wasn't any distraction, and she was too tired to go out on the town. Madeline had left her parents after dinner, excusing herself to her room and a quick nap. After only two hours, she was restless again. She stood up and stretched, catlike, langorous. 

Arms raised, back arched, Madeline caught a glimpse of herself mid-stretch in the hotel mirror. Her hair was mussed, a torrent of red ringlets that fell around her shoulders, the same hair her sister Jeannine would have, if she didn't insist on keeping hers cropped short like a dyke. Madeline swore it was all that time playing soccer and hanging out with boys that did it. She'd watched time and athleticism steal the baby fat from her sister's body, replacing it with the smooth, muscled form of a woman, even if she was an exceptionally short and perky one. There was no denying that Jeannine was cute. But knowing that her sister was cute, only roused Madeline's own doubts. She'd grown into a woman, shapelier by far than her sister, and she was still getting used to the idea of curves where she'd always had straight lines. The mirror reflected all of that womanhood back at her. 

Insecurity and lethargy kept Madeline prisoner in her hotel room. Nothing about the view in the mirror made her hurry to go outside and find a smoke. She'd washed off her makeup after she woke up from her nap, and there were still smudges of mascara under her eyes, but nothing at all on her cheeks or lips. And besides, she was a long way from dressed to leave the hotel. She could admit that her tight cotton t-shirt looked pretty good with panties. It was good in the sort of way she wouldn't mind showing off to the right guy, but it sure wasn't the way to go outside: too much nipple through the fabric of the t-shirt, too many unrestrained curves, too many red curls sneaking around the laced edge of her panties. 

Already forgetting a wave of insecurities, Madeline paused, the thought of boys lingering in her mind.

She touched her side, felt the smooth curve of skin beneath the fabric, cupped a breast that's soft weight was still new to her. She rolled her head back and batted green eyes at her reflection.

It was no use. Insecurities came rushing back. Pandora's box stayed open.

Madeline sighed, shoulders slumping, head lolling forward. Even in her fantasies she wanted makeup. She was starting to get cranky, and she really needed a smoke. But she was NOT leaving the hotel.

The door between Madeline's room and her sister's adjoining room was closed. Through it she could hear the shower running, the sound of rushing water drumming through the wall, carrying with it another note now and then: Jeannine's high voice singing above the water. It's a good thing I got the room next to her, Madeline thought, she could've had some pervert here listening in. Singing in the shower. What a princess.

Still. Jeannine might have smokes. Madeline narrowed her eyes. She watched the door. She listened to the shower.

Asking was not an option. Her family couldn't know she was rescinding on her daring rebellion. And Jeannine had been in the shower for nearly fifteen minutes already! She could come out at any moment. But... the water was still on, and there might be time, if she was quick and quiet. There might still be time to steal one smoke and get out without her twin sister ever knowing.

Madeline crept across the carpeted floor and tested the door. Just as she'd thought, still unlocked. She pulled the door open gingerly, breath tight in her chest, goose bumps rising on the bare flesh of her arms and legs. The room was a mess. 

After dinner Jeannine had run upstairs only long enough to change, tearing open her suitcase and flinging clothes across the bed in her haste to get back down to the bar downstairs and catch the beginning of the soccer game. Jeannine's love of soccer was something that Madeline, for all their similarities did not share. Not at all. If anything it had seemed to come between them, pulling Madeline's twin sister away into a world she didn't understand or feel welcome in. All the signs were there, reminding Madeline of that gap. A bunched green jersey lay on the carpet near the bed, a pair of sneakers were discarded randomly on the floor, a newspaper open on the chair to reviews of the last shows. Other things were there too, more familiar things: Jeanine's pushup bra was draped across the clock on the end table, her cellphone was discarded on the floor nearby, a world of recognizable trinkets and personal things were scattered across the room. 

Madeline crept barefoot through a minefield of clothing, searching the room hesitantly, afraid to make a sound or disturb anything. Every creak of the floor and every shuffle of fabric was like a scream in the quiet room. Madeline's nerves tingled, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge, her breath came fast and tight. At any moment the reassuring drum of the shower could end and interrupt her search.

A quick glance at the open suitcase showed nothing. The endtable was open, but there was only a Gideon bible inside. The table with the tv had just a remote. A bunched sweater lay near the window. 

The smokes must still be in her pants? It was all Madeline could hope for. But where were those?

There. Crumpled, tangled with a pair of filmy pink panties, her sister's jeans were caught in the bathroom door, wedging it open a few inches. Steam from the shower poured out through the crack of the door.

Step. Step. Step. Madeline crept up to the bathroom door and crouched amidst the billowing cloud. The steam smelled like her shampoo and soap, peaches and mango. It touched Madeline's cheeks like warm kisses, filling her lungs. Fingers trembling, Madeline dug through the laundry. Her sister's panties were as soft on her hands as the denim was course. 

Over the sound of the shower Madeline heard a whimpered cry. She looked up, peeking through the crack of the bathroom door, sure she'd been caught. What she saw froze her in place, her green eyes going wide, her hands greasy with sweat, her breath held tight like a secret. Her sister couldn't seen her, she couldn't have: Jeannine was in the shower, with her back to the door, partially hidden by the foggy glass. Madeline had expected shock and outrage, maybe the fury of her startled sister, but instead she was treated to a blurry view of her sister's taut, athletic backside and slimly muscled legs, short mussed hair and the slim, tight cut of her naked body.

It wasn't her sister's body that caught Madeline's attention, it was what she was doing with it.

A second moan rose over the sound of running water, all too clearly punctuating the rhythm of Jeannine's hand. The motion was unmistakable. Even with her back turned, it was clear that Jeannine was playing with herself, slim fingers trapped between her parted thighs. She stood with her legs askew in the downpour, water pouring off her body, one hand bracing herself against the shower wall. Jeannine sighed and moaned, water splashing as her hand worked furiously at her soft peach.

In her shock Madeline was only half aware that she was staring, unthinkingly watching her sister masturbate through the warm clouds of steam. The view was blurred and indistinct, but not so much that Madeline couldn't see the motion of her sister's wrist and the rhythmic clenching of that tight, perfect butt. 

A knock at the door interrupted both girls. A double knock rap. Both sisters froze.

"Honey? Are you in there?" Their father's voice called from the hall. 

In the shower, Jeannine looked over her shoulder toward the door, hand slowing between her thighs, but not stopping. 

"Dad? I'm in the shower!" Her voice was tight, trembling. 

Oh shit. She's going to kill me. Madeline nearly died, sure for the second time that night that she'd been caught. She waited for the accusation that never came. The catch in Jeannine's voice wasn't from shock, it was the tightness of an imminent orgasm, the distraction of her fingers on her swollen clit. Jeannine didn't know she was being watched. She hadn't seen her sister. 

"I'll come back!" Their father called again, muffled through the door. 

Madeline, trembling, didn't move. Jeannine did, burying both hands back into her crotch. Unaware that she was being watched, the young girl slumped back against the glass and began to finger herself with fresh passion. Jeannine's changed posture flattened the cheeks of her ass against the shower door so that every line showed through the steamed glass, from the crack of her ass right down to the part of her thighs.

Taking her chance, Madeline scrambled for the pack of smokes and seized one with trembling fingers. She stuffed the pack back into its nest of clothing and scurried back toward the adjoining room, never daring to look back. It was only once safely in her own room that Madeline allowed herself to breath. The smoke, her prize, was cradled delicately in a sweaty palm when she fell trembling with relief onto the bed.

Once her breathing had slowed down she dug a lighter out of her pants, vindicating what had until then seemed like hopeless sentiment. She'd kept that lighter for a year, holding onto it as a symbol of her resolve to really quit. Now it lit a smoke in her gently shaking hands, hands that still smelled like mangoes and peaches, the steam from her sister's shower. Madeline lay back, cigarette propped between parted lips. 

She filled her lungs. That was way, way too close. Exhaled. I can't believe she didn't see me. Madeline giggled. I can't believe I caught her doing that. She felt good. She tingled with the rush of nicotine, both relaxed and stimulated by the smooth drug. Wow. She took another breath and sunk back into the bed. In the other room, the shower was still running, drumming on and on like a light summer rain. 

   ---------------------------------------------------

The sun had slipped down below the horizon, and left the hotel room dark.

A forgotten cigarette had burned down in the ashtray beside the bed, but the air still smelled rich with it's smoke, a smell half hidden by the fruit scent from the adjoining room, and the fresh smell of sex that Madeline had stirred up, working her fingers through her own moist cleft. Somewhere in the pleasure of the smoke she'd forgotten herself: a languid caress her of her stomach had turned into a brushed nipple, a massaged thigh, and then her fingers were probing her own wetness, tasting dew with their tips. 

Now Madeline lay on her back atop the bedspread, her clothes long since discarded, naked as the day she was born. The blanket felt moist beneath her ass, dampened as it was by her sweat and the juices that drooled from the young girl's pussy. She'd been rubbing her clit, gently at first, then urgently, thinking about her sister -- thinking about anything but her sister -- just thinking about sex, desperate for some kind of release. She'd been riding a frustrating high, building to something that wouldn't come. 

Madeline's fingers frantically tweaked her clit while her other hand pulled at her breast. She'd worked her pussy to a lather, but it wasn't enough. She needed something more.

She drew herself up. Her chest was splotched with the same pink flush as her face and her hair was messier than ever. Her eyes were wild. Nothing mattered but cumming, but she couldn't get there, not by rubbing her clit. 

Madeline needed something more, and since there was nobody there to help, she'd have to find it herself. She crawled to edge of the bed on her hands and knees, pussy still throbbing from its fresh lashing. Ass thrusting obscenely into the air, Madeline leaned over to dig through the suitcase beneath the bed, fingers gleaming with her own juices. She left the scent of her pussy on her clothing in her haste, wiping it recklessly on everything she touched. She needed something inside herself, and that burning need was all that she could think about. 

After what felt like an eternity, Madeline found what she was looking for, wedged beneath discarded clothes and the case of her laptop: her neon pink toiletry bag. Inside she found her hairbrush. It was bristled and temporarily useless at one end, but on the other end the handle was long and smooth, rounded and bulging to nearly two inches in the middle. It had been a mainstay of Madeline's home life since she'd felt the first stirrings of desire, since she'd first found pleasure, and it had kept her busy in her room on many a quiet school night. At home she'd kept it hidden, unable to explain away the fierce blushing that stole her voice and clouded her eyes whenever her sister tried to borrow it. At that moment it was exactly what she needed.

Madeline hurried back into position on the bed, raising her knees and spreading her thighs. Her pussy drooled with anticipation, rivulets of juice running down the crack of her ass, tickling her puckered asshole and dripping down to stain the sheets. Bristles pressing into her hand roughly, Madeline grasped the hairbrush and turned it backwards, touching the knobbed end of the handle to her aching hole. Touching, and then gently probing, she worked the tip of the makeshift dildo into herself.

There was no time for teasing. With two fingers she parted her lips, and with a thrust, Madeline sunk the plastic handle deep into her grasping teenage pussy. The smooth plastic filled her, setting her nerves on fire. A whimper turned into a cry of pleasure. Guilty, embarrassed, and above all else afraid to be heard, Madeline bit down on the knuckles of her left hand. With her free right hand she began to pump herself with the toy, writhing with the joy of it. 

Madeline's fingers tasted of her own sex, sweet and tangy like sweat, and the taste filled her mouth. She didn't care, all she wanted was release. Her lips trembled around her own hand, her moans muffled behind it. 

The handle of the brush kept plunging, seeking, filling her, pushing her closer toward what she needed. Letting a moan escape, Madeline tore her hand from her mouth and fumbled for her clit. Her fingers slipped through slippery lips and brushed the nub of her clit. A jolt of pleasure filled her.

Frigging her clit with one hand, Madeline buried the brush to the hilt in her pussy again and again, before finally collapsing, chest heaving, gasping back on the bed. 

Madeline was sure that sweat would be rising from her glistening body like steam. 

Steam, like from her sister's shower. Her sister's shower... 

Madeline sat bolt upright. 

The shower, the sound had stopped! When had it stopped? Had Jeannine heard anything? Madeline flashed a guilty look toward the door of the adjoining room. It was open a crack, but just a crack. She was sure that her sister hadn't seen through it. Had she? Had she heard? 

A spike of panic and humiliating brought new colors of pink to Madeline's face as she scurried over to her suite's bathroom. Inside she locked the door behind her, fumbling with the latch, mind clouded with emotion. The idea of being seen like that was too much to bear. Madeline couldn't imagine being caught the way she'd caught her sister, writhing like a slut, playing with her own pussy. It was too much. But she was too tired to hold the thought for long. Sighing, Madeline slumped down onto the toilet seat, relishing the feeling of the cool plastic as it sapped the warmth from her overheated cunt. She couldn't imagine being seen like she'd seen her sister. She just couldn't. 

Sitting alone in the bathroom, naked and exhausted, Madeline turned the idea over in her mind again, and again, trying to convince herself that she hadn't left the door cracked on purpose, that she hadn't maybe, just maybe, hoped her sister might see her.



---------------------------------------------

The next morning snuck up on Madeline. A dry heat crept in through the open window, with none of the coolness of the night before. Even through the blinds the sun was blasting the stuffy hotel room, determined to turn it into an oven. It had to be nearly forty degrees Celsius, and closer to fifty under the blankets. Madeline, with the habits of childhood still fresh in her newly adult mind, still insisted on keeping the blanket tucked up to her chin as she slept, even in the sweltering heat. As a minor concession to the season, one naked leg sprawled out from the side of the bed, but that meager attempt at cooling was more than compensated for by the stifling warmth of the pillow she'd pulled over her head to block out the light.

THUMP. THUMP. Someone was pounding on the door, and they wouldn't go away.

"Maddy! Come on! Mom and dad say we've got to go! Come on!"

Madeline pulled the pillow more tightly down over her head and hoped that her sister would go away.

"Come on! They've been waiting for hours!"

The banging continued a while longer, then stopped. Madeline cracked one eye and stole a look out at the sun-bleached room. Too bright. She withdrew back into the blankets, suffering in the oven like heat for a moment longer before throwing the blanket back and climbing to her feet. 


Strange Insertions Ch. 01



It was too hot to stay in bed anyway. Her hair was slicked to her scalp, and her naked body was sticky with sweat. She rubbed her face to wipe sweat away, and caught the unmistakable odor of sex on her hand in the process. Madeline held the breath in, the scent tickling her nostrils as memories of the night before came rushing back.

Walking in on her sister. Masturbating in bed. Oh god, Jeannie hadn't seen, had she? 

Bleak, tired, and grumpy Madeline grapped her undershirt and mopped some of the sweat from herself, trying to avoid the sight of herself in the mirror. 

"Come on! We've got to go!

If only the door had been a little thicker. The entire hotel would be awake soon. With a disgusted sigh Madeline dug through the disarray of her suitcase, looking for a towel and a fresh pair of panties. She was halfway to the bathroom before the door between the adjoining rooms swung open, banging against the stop and rocking back.

"Maddy come - oh shit I'm sorry - I didn't mean to..."

Madeline shrieked, whirling toward the door and trying to cover herself with a hotel towel and her own crumpled undergarments. Jeannine stood in the door, perky as ever, but looking suddenly apologetic and remarkably red. She was wearing a pair of tight shorts and a t-shirt, and even in that that her tanned skin glowed with sweat. Madeline screamed. Her sister turned and fled. Two doors slammed behind two girls. Once safely locked in the bathroom, Madeline finally relaxed.

"Well jeeze Maddy. You should expect people to catch you if you're going to strut around with all your bits showing!"

Jeannine shouted from the other room, through two doors. Madeline's cheeks reddened. If she could hear it, she was certain the neighbors could hear it too, probably even more clearly. Madeline washed up and got dressed in double time. Rushing, she took the world's quickest shower, and rushed to dress. Dewdrops of water seemed to evaporate in the heat, and she was dry by the time she'd picked out her clothing. Opting out on the panty idea, Madeline struggled into a pair of black tights. She tugged on her most comfortable bra, an old grey sports bar that fit just right, and pulled a long t-shirt over top of everything, buckling it at the waist with a loose belt. Done, perfect. She slipped into a pair of ratty Converse, stuffed the rest of her clothes back into their suitcases unceremoniously and bolted for the door. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Madeline lugged her suitcases down the stairs, one in each hand, flopping down each step for two stories. By the time she got to the lobby her family had already checked out. The car was idling in the promenade outside the glass bay windows of the hotel, the old hatchback kicking up blue smoke. Madeline sighed, tossed her room keys onto the counter and trudged outside, dragging her bags the whole way.

--------------------------------------------

It was cramped in the Engles family car. Mr Engels was driving the way he always did, right hand on the wheel, left arm dangling out the window, an unlit cigarette in his lips. He twitched the smoke back and forth on his lips as he chatted with his wife. She was in the passenger seat, window rolled securely up, hair immaculate, lipstick equally so, and a magazine spread out in her lap, largely ignoring her husband. That left the back seat to the girls.

When they'd left on the trip the twins had been thankful that the luggage had actually fit beneath the hatch, and that they wouldn't have to share their space with anything but each other. It had seemed like plenty of room. Each day for a week it seemed increasingly cramped. By the time they'd escaped Winnipeg's city limits and hit the highway, the girls had arranged their pillows and blankets for maximum comfort, sitting on. The car had no air condition, and the breeze blowing in through the open window was as stifling as the heat inside. This must be what lobsters feel like, Maddy thought. Poor things. 

They left Winnipeg heading east toward home. Home was a small town just off the Great Lakes, in a patch of the Canadian Shield that had managed to stay somewhat untamed and natural despite the generally dismal conditions of southern Ontario. It was beautiful country, and it was home. Now after a week away, a week in the car with her family, and all of her recent humiliations on top of that... now Madeline wanted to get back. She had the entire weekend planned already: relaxing in the sun, soaking in the tub, waxing anything with hair on it, and watching television for hours and hours. It was either that or throw herself in the lake, depending on how quiet her sister stayed about the last twenty four hour's events. Madeline had been watching her twin sister, but so far there'd been no sign that she'd seen anything, just the usual teasing and cute smugness. 

Madeline was still unsettled by the way she'd seen her sister. She wasn't attracted to her sister, she was sure of that, and reminded herself so whenever necessary. No Way. They were sisters, that kind of thinking was impossible. They were more than sisters really, twins, companions, two people, one flesh. Flesh. Her sister's bare flesh kept sneaking into Madeline's mind. Mostly it had been hidden behind the glass, but it was the biggest eyeful she'd had since they'd hit puberty. It left Madeline curious, and her mind kept wandering to scandalous places, filling in for what the shower door had hid. But it was NOT attraction. Madeline was firm on that. It was just that... she'd looked like what she was doing felt so... good.

"So what are you two going to do when you get home? Start looking at college?"

Madeline's father snapped her out of her reverie. He was looking back at the two girls as he drove, hardly watching the road at all. Madeline blushed, pulling her mind away from the tingling heat that had begun to build between her thighs.

"Uh." She looked to her sister.

Jeannine grinned back impishly. "Me? Sure, college sounds good. Not Maddy though. She's going to find herself a man."

"Watch the road honey." Mrs Engels looked up from her magazine long enough to tap her husband on the knee, and pull his attention back to the highway.

"It's nothing but empty prairie till we hit Ontario babe, don't you worry. Nothing to hit but wheat and gophers."

"And other cars." Their mother's voice was terse.

Madeline wasn't listening. She was glowering at her sister. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well you're all grown up now." Jeannine ran a hand through her hair and looked her sister up and down in a knowing way.

Aghast, Madeline opened and closed her mouth. "Dad!"

"What is it?" Their father looked back again, earning a scowl from Mrs Engels as his eyes left the highway again.

"She won't leave me alone."

"What's she doing?"

"She's teasing me-"

Wiggling her butt, Jeannine leaned forward, sticking her head into the front of the car through the gap in the seats. "No way see, I walked in on her this morning getting out of bed, and boyo, my sister has sure been busy growing up. She's going to lure a man and-"

Madeline grabbed her sister by the hair, wrestling her back. Jeannine squealed, managed to free her hair and began to grapple for her sister's hands. The two sisters fell onto each other, scrambling for each other's hands, grunting, squealing at tugs on their hair and punched sides. Their parents pleas for peace were ignored, but the wrestling didn't last long. It was too cramped, and too hot to keep that kind of activity up long. Soon both girls were slumped back in their seats, sweat gleaming on exposed skin, panting for air, only light nudging each other, teasing bumps drained of their edge by the car's heat.

"We're pulling over at the gas station, you girls want anything?"

Madeline didn't notice. One of her sister's legs was still sprawled across her lap, one socked foot pressing against her thigh. Their legs were loosely crossed, Madeline's in tights, her sister's bare beneath khaki shorts. Tired and sweaty after their fight, neither of them had found the energy to complain or move, and now Madeline found herself suddenly resenting that the stop would break them apart.

Jeannine pulled her leg away, sitting up. "Yeah dad! We need ice cream or something. It's too much like a sauna in here." 

Madeline retrieved her own legs, trying not to miss the contact of their bodies.

---------------------------------------

The gas station was like any country gas station, small and dirty, just an attached diner and convenience store on a lonely stretch of highway. Around it was nothing but fields for miles, wheat waving gently in the wind. Reflections of the sun shot blinding rays off the building's windows, and the tin roof seemed to radiate heat across the dirt parking lot. There were no other cars there.

The Engels climbed from the car, staggering and grateful for the relief of the outdoors. All except for Madeline. She just stretched her legs out, sighed, and cranked down her window.

"I'm going to stay here."

Jeannine looked back and asked, almost nicely, "Want me to get you anything?"

"A pop would be good. Thanks Jeannie."

"What kind?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Kay." 

Their parents were already inside, and Jeannine took off after them. Madeline, sprawled out across the backseat of the car and stretched her legs, grateful for a moment of comfort and privacy. 

BZZZZ. A dull buzzing noise startled Madeline fully awake. She can't have been asleep for more than a second, the door to the gas station was still closing behind her sister's cute little backside. BZZZ. Something vibrated beneath her Madeline's body, something wedged between the car seat and her backside. After a moment of curious digging she found her sister's phone, vibrating with an incoming call. It was a little pink phone, the plastic still shiny and new, with rounded corners and a thick body. The phone hummed enticingly in Madeline's palm.

She dropped it onto her stomach, not bothering to look at the call display. It sat there for a moment, but a shift of her body sent the phone rolling the rest of the way down her t-shirt to settle into the cranny of her thighs. Nestled between the teenager's thighs, the phone gave one final buzz and went still. "Oh jesus." Madeline nearly sat up, her legs coming together and trapping the phone. She'd been horny already, but that buzz was nearly too much.

Digging through her purse, Madeline pulled out her own phone and hit the autodial. Between her legs, the cellphone buzzed again. Her thighs twitched. "Oh my god."

Madeline took a guilty look toward the store. Her family was still milling around inside, trying to decide what to buy, enjoying the air conditioning and chance to stretch their legs. There was nobody else around. Just an empty parking lot, a buzzing phone, and a horny teenaged girl.

The phone had stopped ringing again. Eyes still on the building, Madeline slipped it under the elastic of her tights, trapping it between the spandex fabric and her aching pussy. She closed her thighs around it and pulled the t-shirt back down.

With a shaking hand, sick with excitement, Madeline reached for her own phone again. At any moment her family could come back. It was so wrong. What would people think? Madeline keyed in her sister's number, and had to bite back a whimper as a fresh round of vibrations rocked against her clit, sending spikes of pleasure shooting up her spine. The warmth in her pussy had turned to an aching need that consumed her attention, and easily overrode prudence. 

The sound of boots crunching on gravel brought Madeline back to the real world. Her parents were there, her mother with a purse under one arm, makeup somehow not touched by the sweat and heat, her father with a plastic bag and a tired swagger. Jeannine bouncing ahead of them. There was no time to retrieve the phone. Madeline snapped her own phone shut and the vibrations died. She ached for more, but let the phone drop to the seat and reached for her seat belt. The tights kept the buzzing phone trapped against her pussy, bombarding her clit with waves of sensation. If her pussy got any wetter the phone would slip right in, she was sure of it. Madeline's crotch made small, reflexive jerks as the toy vibrated between her swollen lips. She clutched the seat beneath her with white knuckles, letting go only long enough to call the phone and trigger fresh rounds of pleasure every time it stopped.

There was a crunch of gravel beneath boots. Eyes snapping wide, Madeline looked up at her family. Had they seen? Sweat ran down her neck and she sat up as quickly as she could, trying to look calm as the phone finished its last round of vibrations against her wet pussy.

The car doors opened, one by one, and her family climbed in. Jeannine tossed a cold can of pop into Madeline's lap. It rolled down her stomach to her thighs, the same way the phone had, and when the ice cold can tapped the hidden phone against her clit it nearly sent Madeline over the edge.

Her sister had not seemed to have noticed. "Hey I got you root beer, is that okay?"

Madeline nodded shakily, mouth suddenly very dry. She could feel the hard plastic lump of the phone still trapped between the fabric of her tights and her yearning pussy. Squirming, she pulled her loose t-shirt a bit lower, and squeezed her thighs together around the incriminating phone. 

Jeannine cracked her own drink and slumped back in her seat. "It's even hotter in here than when we got out."

Madeline opened and closer her mouth, struggling for a response. Everything was happening too quickly, she was too wound up, too embarrassed, too horny. Her mother reached back and touched her forehead with a cool hand. "Are you okay dear? You look pale? Have you been drinking enough water?"

"I'm fine!" She snapped, voice squeaking. Her mother turned back to her magazine with a shrug and sound of the car's engine starting cut off further discussion.

For one moment Madeline felt relieved. Having her sister's phone trapped between her thighs embarrassed her, but the feeling also turned her on. She had a dirty secret that nobody in her family could guess, and the very idea kept her pussy wet and tingling. The feeling lasted about five minutes and a kilometer of road before Jeannine interrupted it.

"Hey has anyone seen my phone?" Jeannine was digging through the clutter around their feet, looking under the pillows. "It was just here..." 

Madeline was keeping her mouth shut, hoping desperately that the search would end, that the phone would stay forgotten and that they could just keep driving. She twisted the hem of her t-shirt nervously, holding it down near her knees. Her sister unsnapped her seat belt to search the floor of the car. 

Mr Engels looked back. "I'm sure it'll turn up."

"I haven't seen it since the gas station! What if I left it inside?"

Mrs Engels sighed. "Oh honey, just pull over so she can look properly. The poor girl is worried."

"Wait!" Jeannine cried out, "I think I found it!" She dug a phone out from the blankets and held it up. Her face washed with relief, and then just as quickly, with disappointment. "It's just Maddy's. Maddy, do you have mine?"

Madeline shook her head, afraid to test her voice.

Mrs Engels looked back. "You still don't look well dear. Are you sure you're alright?" Madeline was caught in a nightmare. The car had slowed, and pulled off the road. She was painfully aware of the presence of the phone between her thighs and suddenly sure that everyone was looking at her, that they knew her secret and were tormenting her for pleasure.

Jeannine rolled her eyes. "Whatever Maddy. I'm just gonna call it on your phone." Madeline jerked upright, a protest dying on her lips. How could she explain her refusal? 

"Uh. Okay. Look. I'm sure it'll turn up."

Her sister wasn't listening. Time slowed to a crawl as Jeannine punched in the number. The first buzz of the phone sent a shock up Madeline's spine and she nearly gasped out loud. She clenched her thighs together to mute the sound and closed her eyes, trying to stay calm and quiet as the phone vibrated insistently, nestled between the lips of her cunt. 

"I think I can hear it. Everyone shutup."

For a moment the only sound in the car was the buzz of tires on pavement as cars passed them. Madeline desperately clenched her thighs, sure they'd follow the sound to her, sure they'd hear her panting or smell her arousal. She could only pray that they wouldn't. It was hot out, and the car was already full of the smells of sweat and breathing. Beneath the other smells, the salty tang her own arousal could only be a subtext, an edge that they wouldn't recognize. She could only hope. Madeline steeled herself and turned to her sister.

"Look," she said, voice squeaking. "I don't hear it. Let's drive back and check the gas station."

In the front seat, Mr Engels nodded. "Sure. It's not far."

The trip back was a sweet hell for Madeline. Every few minutes her sister would call her lost cellphone and look around, pushing at the blankets, cocking her head as though she might almost hear the buzz of it. Madeline just shivered and bit her lip. Did Jeannie know? Was she doing that on purpose? If she did she didn't show it. Her eyes gleamed and her lips were pursed with concentration, and although she kept shooting Madeline looks there was no teasing smile. Please don't let her know. The thought replayed itself in Madeline's mind. A part of herself didn't care if her sister knew, and the idea that her sister was getting her off on purpose drove Madeline crazy. Every time the phone rang she'd close her eyes, shivering with pleasure as she edged towards release, all the time pretending to be listening for the phone's ring.

When they got to the station Madeline flung herself out of the car, squeaking that she had to go to the bathroom. The first few steps were an undignified waddle, her knees still weak from pleasure, phone still pinned in place between her clenched thighs, Madeline deathly afraid that if she relaxed it would slip down the leg of her tights. She made it halfway across the gravelled parking lot before the buzzed again. She cast one wide eyed look back to the car where her sister sat, face a picture of innocence, head cocked as though listening for the phone. Shaking away her sister's image, Madeline turned and scurried the last few feet into the gas station.

The washroom was located outside the building, and the door kept locked for customer use. The attendant looked bored, and hardly seemed to notice Madeline's flush of humiliation or the trembling in her voice as she asked for the key. He took his time digging it out from behind the counter, and by the time he handed it to her the teenager was ready to scream.

The washroom was around the side of the building and Madeline hardly remembered the trip from the desk to the door. It was a single dingy room with no mirror and an empty towel dispenser. The walls were covered in graffiti and the cramped space smelled of urine and the same floor cleaner they used to clean the gymnasium at school. Safely inside, Madeline locked the door and tore her tights down to her knees. The phone rattled down onto the floor, gleaming with juices. Slumping back against the cracked wood of the door she spread opened her sex with one hand and reached for her clit with the other. Madeline's crack practically steamed with anticipation. Her clit was slick, and her fingers slid across it frantically. It hard took a touch to send her into a knee shaking orgasm. Madeline cried out, not caring who heard, and slumped to the floor as her knees gave out. Drenched with sweat and mind fogged by the aftermath of her orgasm, the girl sat panting on the filthy floor, back to the door, thighs wet with girl cum, face flushed. 




Strange Insertions Ch. 01



Eventually Madeline climbed shakily to her feet and pulled her tights back up, utterly humiliated and overcome with relief from the best orgasm she'd had in months. Bending over the sink, she splashed cool water onto her flushed face, and rinsed her hands. Then she finally retrieved her sister's cell phone, the object of her torment and pleasure. There were no towels, so she wiped it on the hem of her shirt, drying it carefully with shaking hands.

Madeline flushed the toilet, hid the phone in her palm, and stepped back outside to rejoin her family. She'd resolved to "find" the phone later, once she was back in the car. Then, once they got home, Madeline had resolved to never go another car trip with her family again.



Strange Insertions Ch. 02



The final last few hundred kilometers of the Engels' family vacation back had been long and hot, and Madeline had spent it trying to sleep and squabbling with her twin sister in the back seat. Jeannine kept trying to advance onto her side of the seat and take up far more than her fair share of space in an ongoing effort to stretch out and find a comfortable position. Madeline was not sympathetic, but she was too tired and grumpy to do more than occasionally nudge or bicker with her sister. For most of the trip, the sisters were a tangle of sweaty limbs, their legs sprawled across each other, and their expressions surly when they were awake, and only peaceful in occasional bouts of sleep. Their parents had urged them to behave and act their age with a frosty reserve, and now and then the girls had listened. By the time the family pulled into the secluded driveway of their Ontario home they were all exhausted.

The car stopped and Mr Engels turned off the engine. There was a moment of groggy silence as both girls peeled themselves off of the vinyl seats, pushed each other away and blinked in the darkness. 

Mr Engels looked back over his shoulder. "Alright girls. We're home. Your mom and I will grab the bags, you've had a long enough day. Why don't you head on in."

Madeline rubbed at her eyes and yawned. "Thanks dad," she mumbled, as she reached for the door handle. Outside the air was cold and crisp. She shivered and looked up at their house. The two story building was dark and looked just as cold as the night around them. There was a creak of a car door and the crunch of gravel as Jeannine climbed out into the night, her jockish hair mussed and her lips pouty with sleep. 

"God, my butt is killing me," Jeannine said, stretching and rubbing at the body part in question.

Madeline rolled her eyes. "It's all that soccer, you need padding."

"Like you?"

"Hey!"

"And big tits, so that the boys all can't get enough of me?"

Madeline gasped, and looked towards the car. Her parents hadn't noticed, they were still talking in the front seat.

"There are no boys!"

"Suuuure there aren't. All those long nights studying in the library? I know what's up."

Madeline narrowed her eyes. "Better than what you girls must get up to in that locker room-" 

"Speaking of locker room..." Jeannine took a step towards the house. "I call shower!" Suddenly she was running, scrambling up towards the stairs and bouncing cutely up each step. It was far too late to catch up, and her sister had her outmatched in athletic competitions. Madeline just groaned, scuffed the gravel with her foot and trudged in after her enthusiastic sister. After a day in the car she'd have killed for a shower. Instead she'd have to stay stinky and disheveled for a little while longer.

The house was small; a living room and kitchen on the ground floor, plus their father's office with the computer. Upstairs were bedrooms for each of the girls, and their parents' room. Madeline kicked off her canvas hightops beside her sister's runners and stumbled inside. The sound of water rushing through pipes told her that the shower was already running upstairs. Too tired to even be annoyed at her twin sister, Madeline followed up the stairs, leaving her parents outside to unpack. Bed was calling her. 

Madeline's bedroom was the same room she'd had for the last eight years, ever since they'd left the maritimes behind and moved into their new Ontario home. It was small and decorated like any teenaged girl's room: with strewn clothing, posters of movie stars and childhood toys. It was also across from the bathroom, so she had to cross over her sister's discarded clothing on the way into her room.

She paused at the bathroom door and gave it a bang, "Don't leave your clothes around Jeannie, you're going to trip and kill someone!"

The only answer was the drumming of the shower. Madeline sighed, kicked aside a tangle of undergarments and pants, and headed into her room. Once inside she stripped off her own clothes, tossing them aside without a care. She pulled on a baggy shirt to cover her naked body, and popped a dvd into the tiny tv/dvd set that sat across from her bed. It was a girl pwer film about a cheerleading team and the soccer team they brought to the cup, stolen from her sister. With an exhausted sigh, she collapsed into bed.

The cool, dry air of the room was a relief after the heat of the car ride. She stretched out her bare legs and wiggled her toes, glad to have her shoes off, and equally glad to have her tights and bra off, finally and to finally let her body breath. A loose t-shirt was clothing enough for bed. Over the quiet babble of her movie, Madeline could hear her parents carrying things in downstairs, and she listened to the distant murmur of their voices and feet on the floor. The movie rolled on at the edge of her attention. The bedroom door was still open a crack, just enough to show the bathroom door across the hall. It was dark in the hall, and soon the soothing drum of running water had soothed the exhausted teenager into a light sleep. Even as Madeline slipped to sleep, a small, distant part of her wondered if she'd see catch a glimpse of her rosy, towel-clad twin sister on the way out of the shower, the towel maybe parting long enough for a stolen glimpse of flesh, a flash of buttocks, or slipping down to reveal a plump teen breast and swollen nipple.

The sound of the shower had stopped, and Madeline stirred awake with a groan. There was static on the tv, and she was on top of her blankets. The room was cold and dark, the only light sneaking in through her still open door and the grey fuzz of the tv. Her legs were sprawled wide in a welcoming V; sometime in her sleep she'd pulled her shirt up to expose her sex to the air of the room. One of her hands was draped over her damp, swollen pussy, the finger laced through soft curls of pubic hair. Sleepily, Madeline lifted her hand to her face, sniffing for a trace of herself. She was horny again. Her mind kept replaying flashes of a tormenting dreams that still lingered at the edge of her sleepy thoughts: A tongue parting her lips; gently probing fingers; warm kisses; a smiling face. Her sister's face.

Madeline groaned and climbed to her feet, tugged the hem of her t-shirt down to hide her arousal and shuffled to the door. She fumbled for the remove and turned off the televison. Outside in the hall, all the doors were closed. She could see that the light was off in her sister's room, but the bathroom floor was still damp. Jeannine sister must have just gone to bed. Madeline drifted down the hall, still toying with the hem of her shirt, luxuriating in the feeling of cool night air against her bare, overheated pussy. Was everyone in bed? Had they seen her naked through the door while she slept? A lump rose in Madeline's throat and she had to force the thought away. The thought of her family catching her naked kindled something inside her. It brought back a flush of memories from her trip, secret pleasures taken so close to them, and the chances of exposure always nearby.

Mr and Mrs Engels had their closed, but the glow of a light inside showed through the crack beneath it. Madeline intended to pass it by, but a sound stopped her. It was a moaned cry, heady and impassioned, hardly muffled at all by the door. Madeline edged closer to the door. Now that she was listening, she could hear a rhythmic creaking, and the slapping of flesh to match its rhythm, a fevered pace, wet and heavy. Madeline pressed closer to the door until she could feel the hard wood against her ear and shoulder, the last barrier between her and her rutting parents. There was no doubt in her mind what she was hearing. 

Trembling, Madeline pulled tighter to the door, listening, one hand slipping to cup her sex nervously. She couldn't hear her father, but she knew he was there. Her mother made that plain enough. "Oh fuck yes," Her mother cried, caught in a moment of pleasure behind the door. "Oh god your cock is so fucking big.". Madeline's heart thumped against her ribs. "Oh god yes, keep fucking me, split me open, pound me. Come on you big glorious bastard, fill me with that thing, fuck me till I can't walk."

"You like that? Tell me how it feels."

"Like you've got your entire arm in me. Two pregnancies and I'll never get used to the size of that thing."

"Take it then... take it..." The sound of wet slapping grew louder through the door.

Madeline swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Guilty, she moved to pull away, but her father's voice caught her again, low and groaning behind the door. "You're so wet..."

Madeline slipped a finger into her own crack, felt the pool of her own wetness.

Her mother was crying again. "Oh god, don't stop, why are you stopping - oh yes, oh yes rub me, rub my clit. Oh god rub me."

"You like that?"

"Oh god yes, it lights might clit on fire... oh god touch it gently, touch it there."

Madeline curled a finger against her own swollen clit, her mind full of heady images: her mother's cunt, its lips gaping as a fat cock slipped out of it, wet with juices. A rough hand on her clit, rubbing it. Madeline worked at her own clit, biting down on her lip.

"Oh god yes, my ass, oh god... put your finger there..."

Madeline half gasped, half moaned, her twitching fingers freezing on her clit. Madeline had heard stories at school, and she knew that people had anal sex, but she'd never thought to play with her ass. She'd certainly never thought her mother would be into something so dirty! Fingers going still against her clit, trapped between the pillow of her thighs, Madeline froze, listening.

"God yes!" Her mother cried. "Yes, grease me up. Open me up for your cock. I want your fat cock in my tiny little asshole!" There was silence for a moment from behind the door, and then her father's groan, and a low whimper from her mother. "OOooooh yes, push it in. Fill me. Fill me. Tear me apart! Come on honey. I want your cum pumping into my dirty, filthy ass-"

The creak of a door from up the hall stole Madeline's attention, and she looked up with a start. Instantly she was scrambling away from the door and tugging her shirt down with one hand, hurrying toward the stairs, and trying to look casual as she did it. Halfway down the stairs she paused to look back from the darkness of the landing. It was Jeannine, a light from her room silhouetted her in the darkness as she crept sleepily toward the bathroom. The bathroom light flooded the hall with light for a second, forcing Madeline to shy away, and then quickly vanished behind the closing door.

It had been too close. Still anxious, Madeline hurried the rest of the way down the stairs, juices still wet on her thighs, imagined passions still burning in her mind.

It was dark downstairs, and the hardwood floor in the hall was cool against Madeline's bare feet. Goose pimples rose on her arms and she rubbed at them as she paced through the living room and kitchen, excruciatingly aware of the creaking sounds of bedsprings still dimly audible through the ceiling. Nervously twisting at the hem of her night shirt, Madeline wondered if her sister had heard the sound as well. She must have, she couldn't have missed it. She wandered into the kitchen, listening for the sound of her sister's feet in the hall upstairs, for an exhaled breath, or for any sign at all of where the other girl was. Had she gone back to bed? Was she still in the hallway, listening, just like Madeline had? The thought sent a guilty thrill through Madeline's already heated mind. Desperate to distract herself, she cracked the fridge open. White light washed into the kitchen, blinding her. Madeline groped for a jug of water and took a long drink right from the spout, standing in the harsh light of the fridge. The water was icy cold, and the shock was a fresh assault on her inflamed senses. Madeline drank thirstily, water splashing onto her neck and down onto her shirt, sticking it to her breasts. Her nipples stood out through the fabric, hard and erect.

Finally she returned the jug to the fridge, panting for air but still not satisfied. There had still been no sign of her sister, and still the beautifully maddening creak of the bed upstairs kept rocking. Madeline's hand strayed back down her body, touching the curve of her ass and lingering at the crack, near the delicate bud of her anus. She thought about her mother's cry, and the desperation in her voice as she begged for a cock to split that tiny hole, to fill it with her father's hot, sticky cum.

Madeline swallowed heavily and shot a guilty look at the stairs. The tip of her finger brushed like a feather across the dry crinkle of her asshole and quickly receded. Playing with that forbidden hole was too dirty. It was too much for Madeline's already overloaded mind, but it was still so arousing. She peaked back into the glare of the fridge, eyeing the contents with a new hunger. The ketchup bottle was much too big, and so were all the other bottles around it. The thin neck of a soy sauce bottle looked tempting, but the cap looked hard and sharp. Finally she grabbed a carrot from the crisper. 

Running her hands along the cool vegetable to warm it, Madeline leaned back against the counter. She parted her thighs with one hand, chest heaving, eyes watching the stairs, ready at any moment to be found out. Her juices were already flowing, her lips parted and ready. The tip of the carrot slipped into her well lubricated tunnel without resistance. Her knees were shaking with desire as Madeline fed the carrot into her greedy hole, biting her lip to keep from crying as knobs and bends in the vegetable's length stimulated her needy cunt. She thrust it in, planting the vegetable in her cunt so that only the green, leafy foliage of the vegetable hung obscenely out. Then she pulled it out again, thrust it back in, and again, and again, frantic for more - but it wasn't enough.

Careless in her need, Madeline flung the slick vegetable back into the fridge and dug around for something else. This time she came out with a cucumber, nearly two inches wide, and longer than her hand from end to end. It was the perfect green cock. The horny teenager planted her backside back against the counter and crouched to spread her thighs, peeling apart her lips with her free hand. Grasping the vegetable's girth in one hand, she nuzzled its tip against her hole, wetting it with her juices. A quick glance confirmed that the stairs were still dark, but Madeline knew that at any moment her parents could wake up, or her sister could come down for a drink of water. The idea was horrifying. Her own family, walking in her, squatting in the kitchen, sex bare for the world to see, chest heaving and flushed, panting, desperate as she fucked herself with the contents of the family fridge. A flood of heat rose to her cheeks a the thought, a guilty flush that only drove the young girl further.

In a full squat, Madeline pressed the vegetable slowly into herself. Her cunt lips were peeled back around the makeshift toy, stretched wider than she'd known they could, with half the cucumber's length already buried in her greedy cunt. It wasn't enough. Madeline seized the vegetable's fat base with both hands, trying to force it deeper into herself, but it stubbornly refused to go further. She whimpered, desperately frustrated. She could have cried. Instead she slid the toy out until just the tip was inside, sliding its gleaming length free inch by inch. She spat on her hand to wet the toy, and dipped it in and out, wetting it with the twin lubrication from her saliva and girl cum. Each thrust slid deeper than the last as inch by inch Madeline fed the massive cucumber into her aching hole. Finally it was in. Only the slick tip of the vegetable was left for her to grasp, the rest hidden deep inside her pulsing cunt. Madeline wished she'd done this in the bathroom. She was sure that if she could see herself in the mirror she'd die orgasming; more than anything she wanted to see that massive shaft as it split her tight, teenaged cunt and filled her in ways she'd never been filled before.

A sound on the stairs pulled Madeline back to reality. A light flicked on in the landing. For a second she froze, panicked, and then she was frantically pulling herself upright, tugging her shirt down enough to cover her naked cunt, and the tip of green vegetable that still stuck obscenely from it. She pressed her hands to her hot, flushed cheeks and felt their heat, hoping it wouldn't show. There was nothing she could do about the smell of sex in the air, or the way her nipples pressed insistently out through her thin shirt.

There was a call from the top of the stairs. "Hey Maddy, that you? You up?"

Jeannie! The pitter patter of sleepy feet came the rest of the way down the stairs. Madeline struggled to cool her pounding heart, desperately hoped that her sister would leave the light off.

"I-" Words stuck in her throat. Madeline swallowed and tried again. "Hey Jeannie. Yeah, I'm up. I was just getting a drink."

Jeannine bounced down the last few stairs and over to her sister, moving lightly on bare feet, an impish grin on her lips, her usually ruffled hair flattened by sleep. She was in baggy jogging pants and a sports bra, her midriff as bare and brazen as the conspiratorial grin on her lips.

"Hey Maddy - did you HEAR that?" She giggled.

"Wha- what? Hear what? I didn't hear anything." Madeline shifted uncomfortably, her vagina still pulsed around the huge toy. She wanted to move into a more comfortable position, but she was afraid that she was so we that the vegetable would slip out from her clenched thighs and hit the floor. The thought sent a shiver through her spine. 

Jeannine rolled her eyes "How could you miss it?" "OOooooh, yes," she moaned, running her hands up her body and grinning wildly. "Oh yes, fill me with your cock, fuck me fuck me fuck me!" She squeezed her small, girlish breasts and tossed her head from side to side. "I want it so badly." Jeannine's hands pushed back down her stomach and into the top of her jogging pants until the tips of her fingers grazed her teenaged mound. Then, as soon as she started, she burst into a fit of loud giggling. "Like that." 

She must have noticed Madeline's stunned, dry mouthed stare then, because she stopped laughing and tilted her head, studying her sister curiously.

"You okay?" Jeannine pushed by and cracked the fridge, not waiting for an answer. She grabbed the water jug, took a quick sip and looked back at her sister. The grin never faltered. "I'm talking about mom and dad. Noisiest sex ever." 

Madeline winced, shying back from the light, turning to hide her flushed face. She tugged her shirt lower, sure that the green tip of the cucumber would show beneath it. 

When she looked back her sister had closed the fridge. She had a carrot in one hand, and Madeline could swear that she could see the dampness of her still fresh juices clinging to it. An exclamation died on Madeline's open lips. Her sister took a nibble from the tip of the carrot and looked skeptically at her.

"You're such a prude Maddy. I thought it was funny." 

She took another bite of the carrot. Madeline's stomach turned to jelly.

"Anyway I'm going to bed. Night sis." Jeannine waved with the carrot. Madeline could have died with relief. Her eyes never left her sister or the carrot in her hand. She ground her thighs, forcing the cucumber a fraction deeper and nearly driving herself over the edge.

For a moment, the teenaged girl was sure that she'd escaped notice, and that she was safe. Jeannine didn't go straight to the stairs though. Instead she paused as she passed her sister, reached out and swatted her Madeline's ass with an open palm. "Gotta watch that butt of yours if you keep eating all night." Jeannine, with a familiar, teasing note to her tone that they both knew all too well. She fled before Madeline could respond, bolting up the stairs, sure that retaliation was coming, giggling the whole way. It wasn't. The contact unexpected slap had nudged the cucumber just a hair deeper into the teenaged girl's already over stuffed cunt, and the electric shock of it had been too much for the poor girl. Madeline was caught in a silent orgasm, clutching the counter for support as her knees trembled, blind to her sister's departure, thinking of nothing but the pleasure flooding through her trembling frame. It was only after the orgasm had passed that Madeline was able to ease away her grip on the counter and part her tremble thighs enough to free the makeshift sex toy. The swollen cucumber slipped effortlessly from her now gaping sex and plopped onto the floor, gleaming with juices. Gingerly, Madleine slid a hand through her steaming gash and looked up the stairs, where her sister had just missed the show. With the aftershock of the orgasm still teasing her mind, Madeline wondered if that had been another coincidence, and wondered again if her sister knew, and was deliberately teasing her.



Strange Insertions Ch. 03



It was two days before Madeline was to go to college. Her bags were packed, she'd said goodbye to her friends, and everything was ready to go. She sat on her bed, staring at the old posters of rock stars and actors she'd left hanging, and wondered what would happen next. She was awash with tangled emotions, nervous and excited, and not at all sure she was ready to leave her family and home behind.

Her parents were having a date night and had promised not to be back till late. Her twin sister was downstairs with a friend. Madeline knew this, because she'd heard the door slam, and the stage whispers and giggling that had followed it. Madeline had ignored them, melancholy and worried about moving. There wasn't much left to distract herself with though, just a pile of boxes and an empty room. She was in her pajamas; a comfy pair of flannel pants with donald duck's face on them, and a loose t-shirt. 

Still, teenaged girls are always impatient, and after a while though, she got bored. So Madeline headed out into the hall to look at the house she'd grown up in, glancing into the rooms -- her sister's, her parents, the bathroom, familiar places that would never be the same. She made her way down the stairs and headed toward the living room, calling her sister's name.

"Jeannie?"

She was answered by a shuffling sound from the living room, and an awkward giggle.

"Shh!" 

"That's my sister, she might come down."

"I don't care." A man's voice said, "Just don't stop..."

"But- mmf." Her sister's protest was lost in a wet gurgle. 

Madeline crept up to the corner and peered around it into the living room.

A man she didn't recognize was sitting on the couch. He was about their age, maybe old enough for college, and fairly handsome. His eyes were closed, but that didn't comfort Madeline's pounding heart. He wasn't alone. Jeannine was kneeling in front of him in her soccer uniform: cleated shoes, knee socks, and her sister's tight, athletic backside barely contained by a scandalously cut pair of shorts. It hardly took Madeline a second to realize what they were doing.

The boy's hands curled in her sister's hair as her head bobbed. The only sound was his raspy breathing and the wet noises from her throat. Glunk. Glunk. "Mmmm. Oh god."

Madeline inched forward clutching the doorway with a trembling hand. Jeannine's head was bobbing faster than ever, up and down, up and down. Now and then Madeline could catch a view of the wet, hard shaft her sister was so occupied with, and the long strands of saliva connecting it to her sister's splayed lips.

The boy's lips parted. "Oh christ girl, I'm coming. Oh I'm coming. Eat it. Eat my cum."

"Yes!" Jeannine gasped, breaking her head from his cock. "Spray for me. Drown me. Fill my mouth with your cum!"

With that, Jeannine buried her head back into the stranger's crotch, until her lips pressed to the splayed fly of the jeans, taking the entire length of his male member into her hungry throat. He gasped. "Yes!" And Madeline saw her sister's eyes shoot wide open, and her throat begin to work as she desperately swallowed, milking the pumping cock into her gullet.

An eternity later, the teenaged girl pulled her face from the pulsing cock with a gasp, coughing and chocking on cum. White cream specked her lips and dribbled down her cute chin. Jeannine gasped like a dying fish, as he grabbed her hair with one hand, and with the other pumped his twitching cock, spraying pulse after pulse of white cream into Jeannine's spiky hair and across her high cheek bones and perfect, cherubic face. 

Finally the flow stopped and Jeannine giggled, wiping at her eye with a knuckle, and said, in a hoarse voice, "You cum like a firehose. Jeeze. I'm half blind and drowned. You could kill a girl."

Madeline knew she should be leaving, but something held her. She stared, entranced at her twin's cum splattered face, stunned by the abject sluttiness. She watched as Jeannine grabbed a bottle from beside the couch. Liquor. Madeline was sure of it, by the label and the shape of the bottle. She watched her sister take a swig and stumble to her feet. 

"I gotta go get cleaned up."

"S'Okay..." Her friend started. "I gotta go anyway."

"What- already – but I thought we were going to hang out." Jeannine stuttered a response. The stranger stared back, and a moment later she shook her head, hair still crusted with cum. "Fine," she said, stonily. "I'll see you." With that she turned away without another word and for one precious second the two sister's eyes met. Madeline jerked back away from the doorway, knowing in her heart that it was already too late. Before anyone could say anything, she scurried a quick retreat back upstairs.

The thud of her heart chased her up the stairs. The image of her sister was stuck in her mind, hurt and anger on her cum splattered face fading with the shock of... recognition.

Madeline closed the door to her empty room behind herself. This time she'd been caught for sure. She knew it.

After she'd calmed down, Madeline resolved not to say anything about what had happened to her sister. She'd tossed and turned for hours, wishing she could sleep and knowing that she couldn't. It was no use. She felt guilty, and totally embarassed. Every time she snuggled into her pillows and started to drift away memories leaped into her mind. Her sister's face glazed with cum, and her eyes, that flicker of recognition before Madeline had been able to pull away. Thank god she hadn't been masturbating. She'd wanted to, but this was bad enough... and now she couldn't. The wetness trapped between her thighs was utterly damning. 

Madeline was not a lesbian. She was sure of that. And she did not want to have sex with her sister. That would be incest. She wasn't like that. No, she told herself, it was something else: the thrill of knowing that at any moment she could be caught, the thrill of getting off so close to her own sister, the horrible taboo of it. And now, the thrill of watching, the horribly erotic images burned into her retinas and the rush of warmth it brought to her cunt. Madeline tossed and turned, pulling the pillow over her head. Best not to say anything, she thought, best to avoid Jeannie. In two days she'd be leaving for college, and then they could forget about the entire thing.

A gentle knocking at her door told Madeline that she'd been sleeping. She sat up with a start, rubbing at her eyes. The room was dark, and she scrambled for her cellphone to check the time. The glowing screen told her only an hour had passed since she'd left her sister downstairs. An hour that had felt like an eternity.

The door opened a crack, and a face peeked in, backlit from the hall. 

"Maddie?"

The door opened a bit more, and the light widened. Jeannine was sillhoutted there in loose jogging pants and a sports bra. Jeannine couldn't make out the face, but she recognized the tight curves of her twin's figure.

"Hey Maddie?"

"Mmm, yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

"Uh. Okay."

Madeline pulled the sheet up a bit closer and reached to snap on the lamp. Her sister froze in mid step, halfway into the room, blinded by the light. She didn't have any makeup on, so she must have washed up, but her eyes were swollen and red like she'd been crying.

"Ouch that's too bright."

"Are you drunk Jeannie?"

Her tone was immediately defensive. "No. A little." She sighed, and said sullenly "does it matter?"

"Nawh, come sit down." 

Madeline shifted over in the bed to make room for her sister.

"What's wrong?"

"Nuthin. My boyfriend's a jerk, that's all."

"Yeah? What'd he do?"

Madeline hoped she could sound confused, desperately hoped to hide what she'd seen, that somehow Jeannine wouldn't know, or that at least they could pretend. No such luck. Jeannine looked her right in the eyes and said "You saw. He left me right after... right after he came."

Madeline swallowed. Her sister's eyes were bloodshot, but as bright green as ever. A quaver at the corner of her lip said she might cry again. 

Jeannine took a deep breath and said, "He used me."

Madeline sighed tensly. "Men are jerks."

Jeannine only nodded, so Madeline leaned over and put an arm around her. "Hey sis. It's okay."

Jeannine rested her hand on her twin sister's shoulder, and they enjoyed each other's warmth for a few minutes. Madeline hugged her gently, sure that her sister was about to cry, waiting for it, but mostly overcome with relief that they'd dodged an awkward coversation about why she was lurking on the stairs spying on her naughty sister. Slowly Jeannine's trembling stopped, and Madeline washed with relief.

Then the sucker punch. "Hey Maddy?"

Jeannine had her hand on her sister's thigh, just above the hem of her nightgown. She was caressing the skin there gently, seemingly unconsciously, and no amount of careful squirming was getting Madeline away from it. She swallowed, and answered quietly, "yeah?"

"I kind of liked that you were watching."

Heart attack. The conversation she was hoping to avoid blindsided Madeline. Her mouth instantly went dry, and she knew that the filmy material of her nightgown couldn't contain her pounding heart any better than it hid her suddenly stiffening nipples. "Jeannie-I-I-" The touch on her thigh wasn't so innocent anymore. The fingers slipped higher, and higher, until they were seconds away from the soft down of her pubis. The touch was gentle, lingering, and good. She wanted more.

Instead, Madeline jerked back before her sister could go further, pulling away from the touch and the conversation. Instantly she regretted it. Color rose to Jeannine's face in a flood, and her mouth dropped, the humiliation clear from her quivering chin to her eyes. She'd crossed a line, and her sister had rejected her.

"I'm sorry Maddy."

"No Jeannie I-."

"I just thought... that you were watching cause you liked me. I saw you in the kitchen, and I thought you knew. I thought you liked that I saw, you were all... flirty. I was flirting."

"I-"

"I'm so sorry." Fat tears were running down Jeannines cheeks now, and Madeline was at a loss.

"It's not that. It's not- I mean, you're my sister!"

"I know! I'm such a slut!" Jeannine's cry was a wail, and Madeline was deathly afraid would waken their parents. She half considered flinging a pillow over her sister's face to stifle the incriminating cries, and desperately searched her mind for something, anything to say to make things better, any comfort she could provide. Before she could do anything to respond Jeannine had fled the room, and the door to her room slammed down the hall, leaving Madeline alone and very confused.

-----------------

Madeline spent the next day avoiding her family. The entire thing was too embarassing for words, and she didn't know how to fix it. She was due to leave for college the next morning anyway, and had the fuzzy notion that she'd just wait, and avoid the subject until there was some distance between her sister and herself. The plan stuck for most of the day.

At supper time, her mom caught her in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. Jeannine was behind her, wearing her soccer uniform again, knee high socks, those tight little shorts and a loose jersey. She wouldn't meet Madeline's eyes, she just looked down like a beaten dog.

"Hey honey." Mrs Engels called, "I'm dropping your sister off at soccer practice and your dad and I were going to get burgers, you want to come?"

Madeline couldn't look at her sister, so she looked up at her mom instead. "I dunno mom, I'm feeling sick." She shuffled her feet. "And I've got a lot of packing to do."

"Well that's too bad, we'd love to have you, wouldn't we Jeannine?"

Jeannine made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a gurgle.

"Are you okay? You're not feeling sick too, are you?"

Jeannine winced. "No mom... I'm fine. I'm just gonna wait in the car." She stole a quick look at her sister and slunk off.

Madeline swallowed. It was worse than she'd thought. She wanted to chase after her, but didn't know what to say, so she hugged her mom tightly instead. "Have fun mom. I'll be here when you get back," and ran to her room, without waiting for a response. Out of nowhere, she had a plan, she didn't know if it would work, but she knew she had to do something. She just thanked god she'd thought of something.

There was a vent that seperated the twins' bedrooms. It was old and had wide gaps in the grill, easily an inch between each. As kids they'd played spies, whispering through the vent and passing secret notes. They'd pretended to be in prison, sneaking daddy's files through the bars, and lay at night with their faces to the grill gossiping into the night. Through that vent they could say anything they want, whenever they wanted, and see right into each other's rooms. It was perfect. Then puberty came and modesty followed it. Madeline had tacked a cut out from one of her magazines over the grill, and the secret spy hole had been hidden.

Now Madeline's hands trembled as she pulled the tacks out one by one and revealed the grill behind the old magazine pages. She knew she'd be able to see into her sister's room with ease if the lighting was reversed. All that was left was to wait. When Madeline finally heard the crunch of gravel on the driveway she hurried to turn out the light, heart stuck in her throat. Her wait wasn't over. She listened to the footsteps and voices downstairs and the chatter of her parents until finally she heard the sound she'd been waiting for, the thump of her sister's soccer shoes on the stairs. Madeline lay down on the floor to watch the vent.

The door creaked and Jeannine's light flicked on. Through the vent, Madeline could see everything. Her sister's hair was plastered to her head with sweat, and she was still flushed and gleaming from the exertion of her game. Madeline's heart sweet swelled with love for her sister, and sunk again with guilt. The plan had to work. On the other side of the vent, Jeannine stretched, kicked the door shut and wandered over to the cd player, popping in the latest Miley Cyrus album. She stretched again, and proceeded to strip off her mud splattered jersey and shorts, swaying to the beat of the music. Madeline's breath was tight in her throat as she watched. Jeannine tossed the jersey on the bed and popped the clasp on her sport's bra, letting her perky, apple sized breasts with their perfect dimpled nipples bounce free. Totally unaware that she was being watched she stripped off her shorts, ran a hand across her smoothly shaved twat and scratched casually at her tight, athletic ass. Then, clearly exhausted, she strutted back to the cd player, turned off the music, and bounced across the room to turn out the lights. The room filled with darkness.

Madeline could hear the shuffle of bed clothes and knew that her sister was climbing into bed. Now timing was key. She forced herself to count to twenty before getting up and stripping off her own clothes. She very nearly shook too much to find the lightswitch, but she knew that she was comitted. Light flooded the room.

Lying in the dark, Jeannine couldn't help but see the light come on through the vent. She'd see it, and know that her sister had moved the poster and opened the vent. It would be an invitation too good to pass up, and she'd have to crawl across the carpet and peek through the cracks into her twin sister's bedroom. Madeline was counting on it. 

Madeline was back on the floor, naked as the day she was born. She had a pillow propped under her ass and one of her legs wrapped around the foot of the bed. The pose forced her thighs comfortably apart, giving a perfect view from the peephole, and open access to her wandering fingers.

She started with two fingers. She was already so wet that it wasn't a problem. Her legs trembled with the effort of staying apart as she fucked herself, but she had to keep them wide to give her sister the best show she could. Soon two wasn't enough, and added a third finger into her clasping tunnel, thrusting urgently against her hand. Her toes curled, and her heaving, pink tipped breasts shook with each thrust.

"Oh god, oh god," She moaned, fucking herself relentlessly. The juices ran down the crack of her ass. She pulled her hand free, licking each finger in turn, searching the vent with her eyes as she did, hoping to see some movement, some tell tale sign in the darkness behind. It was impossible to know if she was being watched, and that made the the horny young woman even crazier. She took all three fingers in her mouth, sucking and slathering at her hand until every trace of her own teenage arousal was gone from them.

There might have been a sound from the vent, she couldn't tell. She imagined her sister lying there naked, breasts pressed to the carpet, eyes wide, face to the grill. Maybe Jeannine was fingering herself, maybe she'd reached back between those tight thighs and was building her own orgasm. The thought drove on her on to deeper perversity. Madeline rolled over onto her stomach, thrusting her ass into the air and back toward the vent. Reaching back she pulled one cheek to the side, exposing her juicy, swollen box and the tight star of her virgin asshole. The thought of her sister seeing her so exposed was utterly humiliating, and almost made her cum on the spot. She wiggled her backside, touching her juicy slot with the tips of her well manicured hands. 

There was a bottle lying under her bed, an old-fashioned coke bottle that she'd brought back from a vacation years ago. Madeline had seen it while she was fucking herself, and now she dug it out. It was too big for her to take, she was sure of it, bigger even than the cucumber she'd stretched herself with. She had to try it though, she desperately wanted to be filled, and she only had one night with her sister, one chance to make ammends or one last chance to use the her twin for her own pleasure, she wasn't sure which anymore.

The glass was cold, but the tip of the bottle fit easily into her swollen pussy. An inch of shaft followed, then two, splitting her lips and forcing a moan from her lips, but soon the bulge of the coke bottle was too fat. The angle was no good anyway, so Madeline sat up, planting the bottle on the floor and holding the base still with one hand. 

She couldn't look at the vent, not while doing this, it was too much humiliation to bear. So she turned her back to the vent, exposing her naked profile and the twin curves of her ass as she squatted over the bottle. Very carefully she lowered herself, and for the second time that night gingerly penetrated herself again with the tip of the bottle. Gradually, inch by inch, she let herself sink down onto the bottle, sure all the while that it would never fit, that it would tear her tight cunt apart before it got in. 

"Ooooooooh" she moaned, sinking deeper. Madeline was stretched her nearly to the breaking point. Her whole, quivering teenaged body was wracked with a sweet pain that made her want to scream and thrash and both throw the bottle away and fuck it harder all at once. Her pussy lips were wider than they'd ever been, peeled obscenely apart. They clung to the bottle and grasped at it every time she pulled it out, and eagerly swallowed it up with each thrust back inside.

Madeline's cunt throbbed as the ribbed glass plunged her depths, but she couldn't get more than a few precious inches, it was too tight, too big. Her knees shook and ached from squatting, and no matter how much she rose and fell on the bottle it wouldn't go deeper. Then she heard a cough from behind the grate - she was sure of it this time - and the sureness that her twin was watching was all the help she needed. With a thrust of her hips, Madeline forced herself down on the bottle, and it popped in past the first bulge, filling her once tight teenaged pussy to the brim. 




Strange Insertions Ch. 03



"Aaaiiiieeee!" A keening whimper escaped her lips, and her fingers flew against her clit, pounding it to an orgasm. Her inner musculature grasped and clutched at the bottle and her asshole winked obscenely at the grate as she fell into a trembling orgasm that took her knees out from under her. As the orgasm took her, she sunk deeper, until hardly an inch of bottle was showing beneath her trembling ass. For a moment she was sure that if she pressed a hand to her flat belly she'd feel the curved neck of the bottle there, pressed to her stomach. "AAAAhhhhhhhhhh god, oh god, oh god I'm so full, it's so good." The orgasm shook her to the bone, and left her soaked and battered in its wake, like a tidal wave had broken over her. At last it left her, and Madeline melted into jelly on the floor, bottle sticking ludicrously from her tautly stretched pussy, legs shaking, breasts heaving, gasping against the carpet.

Some time later Madeline found the strength to reach back with a quivering hand and pop the bottle from her stretched vagina. Cool air rushed in as her lips quivered and hung open, only reluctantly returning to their once tight, virginal state. She wiped a string of drool from her mouth with a hand that was stained with her own love juices and stumbled to her feet to turn out the light.

Whether or not Jeannine had seen it had been worth it, she didn't care anymore. Maybe it had comforted her twin sister in the only way she knew to, maybe it hadn't helped, but she was past caring. As she fell into bed, Madeline was too tired to even wonder how she'd continue her passioned exploration in college, or what she'd do without her sister there.