4 comments/ 35361 views/ 31 favorites Siss the Bride By: theonewhowas I was nervous. I mean, of course I was, how could I not be? Everyone is nervous on their wedding day, it's a big day, a commitment, especially when you're 26. I mean, it's not like I'm afraid of commitment, many of my boyfriends in the past would be able to tell you that; I wasn't exactly the type of person who would be reserved when it came to going all out for another person... 'Accommodating' is a word that has often been used, and I guess that's accurate enough. Oh god, though, I felt like I could have been sick. Not literally sick of course but I still had that giddy feeling that pulses at the front of your lobes, that kind of anticipation which dances in your stomach and grabs you by the balls. Anticipation is the ultimate master, as everyone succumbs at least once in their life to his will, and for many people it is on their wedding day; it's the right kind of day for it, with joy and trial ahead of you in the long future, and in the immediate future, alcohol, dancing and consummation. A Wedding doesn't really take place in a church, the wedding is the entire day and everything that goes with it and, ultimately, the bedding. But no, I can't talk about that now, I need to tell this story right. I was nervous. I stood in front of three tall mirrors, a screen against the world so the only eyes staring back at me were my own sea-green pair; I admired myself a little, despite my apprehensions for the day, it was just one of a thousand different thoughts buzzing round my skull. I was pale, I thought, but in a nice way, soft like the morning light. I was thin, maybe too thin, but I liked it that way. My hair, a chocolatey sweep which would be called a Pixie Cut on a girl. And my dick, I thought... Well, pretty average, 6 inches, barely mattered to me. Over my shoulder, I saw a door open and my older brother's ex-girlfriend, Katherine, walk in, a couple inches shorter than me at 5"7' and blonder than a Princess. Twice as pretty too, I was sure, though the attraction was purely aesthetic - I was gayer than a twisted rainbow. The dress she wore was also very aesthetically pleasing, an icy light blue that was embroidered in perfectly symmetrical lace - over it she wore her dusty old leather jacket because the ceremony wasn't due to start for a while so she wasn't too bothered. She looked like a Princess, but behaved like a Punk; that was why they'd broken up, my brother and her. They'd been set up by friends and hit it off, started going out. It was only after a few dates they realised they preferred each other as friends; she was today going to be both maid of honour and best man. Now, you're probably wondering why it's my Brother's best friend who got those important roles when it was my wedding day, but then, I'm also sure you've guessed where this is headed. Katherine produced from an oaken cupboard to the right of the room, the most gorgeous strapless white dress I had ever seen. It was made of a tight over-the-bust corset (though the bust was fairly small) and an explosion of white fabric below, decorated with small live flowers sewn into the very dress itself. It was, in all its elaborate nature, a wedding dress. My wedding dress. Yes, of course, part of the reason I was so nervous was that I was getting married not only dressed as a girl, but to my brother. Why? Well, the few years ago it had happened I hadn't the foresight to imagine I could get happily married as a gay man, and my brother? Well, he really did have commitment issues. He wouldn't get married to anyone he hadn't known a very long time just in case they got divorced, and he lost all his stuff. Marry your brother, you definitely won't lose your stuff, he said to me, convincing me that I could marry him and reap the tax benefits. I mean I'd have loved to marry for love, but those benefits. After I was dressed and made up by the expert hand of Katherine (although I believe the eye-liner went a bit Black Swan under her creative outlook) we left the room together and found ourselves in the church, though I'm sure there was a longer gap than that, I was just too nervous to notice the gap. I'm sure I would later on. The birds were singing, the breeze carried the scents of beautiful flowers - and I had my dick tucked between my legs like a drag queen. It wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't necessarily unpleasant. I also really liked the smooth, satiny feel of my skin on every inch of my body (yes every inch, I'd shaved down there perfectly as well - I'd gotten carried away). Soon enough, I stood in front of my brother as some boring little man mumbled something about God and holiness and the purity of the bond. Yeah fucking right. At the end of it we said our vows, and then my brother did something very surprising indeed, though now I think about it very obvious. "You may kiss the bride" the grey man said, and my brother did. He grabbed my round my corseted waist, dipped me back and grabbed my pixie cut hair, then kissed me deeply. His tongue was as strong as any other muscle in his body and it found mine and stroked it lightly, as if joking with me. He pulled away and for a moment I was worried I'd have saliva flecked on my soft pink parted lips, but if I did the crowd did not notice, and merely cheered. I confronted him in the limo to the reception afterwards. "What the hell was that, Patrick?" I said, more in confusion than anger. I shook my head and arched my brow. My brother looked amused that I remained so well spoken and, apparently, calm. "It was a kiss, for my bride. I mean, it's a wedding, what did you think was going to happen?" He returned with a smirk "If I didn't kiss you it would look weird. Likewise, if I don't hold you in my arms all evening it would be odd, and if I don't have a dance with you... well it might raise questions." This sly comment was purposefully made, I could tell, but I decided to play along with it. "Okay. I got you." I said, pausing. "Was that really all?" "No." He replied "You also looked really pretty" he said as he gave me a peck on the nose. I blushed. I actually fucking blushed - I guess it's all to do with those nerves. As I looked at my brother... my husband, I found myself thinking his black hair looked really good in its long ringlets. His hair was probably longer than mine but that black mane was far more masculine than my arty paintbrush swoop. His suit accentuated all the right places too - but shit this was my brother. I felt some shame, surely. He just smiled at me, silver eyes a-glistening. We arrived at the reception and he grabbed tightly onto my ass, making me jump, but under that big ruffled dress no-one could know that's what was happening. He steered me through the crowds and I was almost sure the duct tape was not going to hold - I was actually getting slightly aroused at the thought of my brother holding my butt, in front of this massive crowd. Fuck, I was being made into a sissy exhibitionist with an incest fetish. I wonder if my brother knew. We sat down at a reasonably sized table at the end of the hall. It wasn't raised, so it wasn't too visible, but it was focal point in its position. It was our wedding after all. Mum and Dad had been given a table with some of their friends, and we were alone on the table, apart from Katherine. She stood up when we arrived at the table, and stood surreptitiously in front of us, blocking us from view in a way that suggested a need for privacy. The politeness of our guests overcame their curiosity and they turned away - even if anyone did look they'd mainly see Katherine. "Come here" my brother whispered, hitching up my dress skirt. He slowly pulled away the duct tape with extreme care - it ended up hurting only a little. My dick flopped free and my balls dropped once again. "There, that's better, under that dress no-one will be able to notice your little dick" "Then why didn't we do that before?" I said, now actually a little angry. It was more uncomfortable than I had let on. "Because you needed to fit into your lacy white panties, obviously" he said, pulling on the rim of the self-same panties "but now, we don't even need those" and he yanked them down, over the white heels, and handed them to Katherine's open palm. Only then did she resume her seat by our side, and the guests started coming up to us. Under the table, Patrick grabbed my hand and made me rest it on my leg. He then took his hand and moved it right up my thigh until he was holding onto my dick, which reacted with a slow throb. I looked at him, bewildered, but the first guest to speak to us interrupted me before I could do anything. It was our mom. She didn't even give his hand a second glance - it looked merely like we were holding hands under the table! She just told him how proud she was and how pretty I looked. She didn't even recognise me. Katherine looked very amused, and I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed. More and more people came, all while my brother held onto my dick and slowly stroked it. At one point he rubbed his thumb and forefinger over my head and I doubled over, to the shock of a guest. "I'm fine" I assured them "Just accidentally stepped on myself. Not used to these heels" the last part being the truth to hide the lie. Then one of his friends appeared, a tall, blonde, movie-star kind of guy with a thick chest and a handsome face. Australian too; I normally liked my guys toned, lean... like my brother, now I thought about it. But this guy, Malcolm? He was an exception, I'd always quite liked him. Shame he was straight. "Paddy!" He cried in his broad, Australian accent. Between his presence and my brothers fingers on the head of my cock, I felt sure I was going to cum right into my beautiful white dress. I'm not sure people would notice, but it was a nice dress. "It's a damn shame your brother couldn't be here, he should be right here beside you on your wedding day!" "I know." My brother replied, smiling. "He can be such a bitch sometimes" and that did it. I came, from my brothers words and his fingers. The humiliation, the word bitch, sent me over the edge. Cum splattered against the sheer fabric of the material, and sprayed back onto my legs. Some of it began to dribble, but it mainly followed the curve of my ass round so that I sat in this drying sticky puddle. I had shuddered a bit when I came, but luckily Katherine had distracted him. "It's poor show really" She was saying "I had to fill in for him, for best man. But no - he's travelling. In Tibet. I wouldn't be too surprised if he didn't come back. Dangerous place." She finished, with a smirk. "Is that a threat?" Malcolm laughed in return, before bidding his goodbyes and walking back into the throng of people. Soon after, Katherine was ready to give her best man speech. "... and so, I wish all the best happiness to this man who I have come to know as a brother - let's hope his dear wife Ophelia will be a sister to me too" she was concluding, as she smiled at me. It was not wicked, though the joke was cruel, it was sincere. "Anyway, because I am the Best Man and Maid of Honour, I'm off to go fuck myself, I bid you all a pleasant evening." And I have no doubts that's exactly what she did. Probably to her imaginings of what came next. We burst into our hotel room, the door already unlocked by Katherine as she had made her way to her own room. She'd also scattered some dark rose petals about, and had put on some music, though I think it was by The Clash. My brother, who had been carrying me, chucked my on to the bed and hurriedly scrabbled at the corset. He whipped the dress off of me and whispered in my ear as he knelt over me "You're mine now, brother dearest. Finally you won't sass your older brother back eh?" he chuckled. He stood me up and glanced me up and down. I was breathless. "You always were a pretty little fag, oh my god. But here, you're looking pretty plain - stripped of clothes, of all your hair, of even a bit of identity. But even though you're Ophelia now, you're still my little brother - my sissy little brother." "I've still got my pride" I joked. He smiled in return. "I bet you do. But that's a rubbish piece of you anyway, go into the bathroom, you'll find something much better to replace it." I followed his orders, and found what he meant. It was white, and lacy, and satiny smooth, and sexy. It was a bridal lingerie set. A white suspender, with sheer, clear, stockings. White panties patterned with little bows of pastel pink and blue - and a matching bra. I excitedly put them on, fuck all the rules now, these were pretty and I knew they made me feel good. The top half of my dick poked out the panties, but it still looked pretty cute because it was so damn smooth. I rushed out into the bedroom and was greeted with the best sight of the day. My brother, toned, and athletic - two sturdy hipbones framed a nice v, which in turn pointed my eyes towards his cock. It was a gorgeous cock, long and hard at what, 8-9 inches? And I do mean gorgeous, it was the kind of cock that was as pretty as it was big - it was aesthetically pleasing but it had the promise of brutality in its monstrous size. I slowly sunk to my knees and crawled over to him and instantly took my hand to his diamond hard member. I still had my punk-girl eyeliner on and I'm sure that when I looked up at him in that moment, my eyes had never looked for radiant - those cocksuckers eyes that possess the maddeningly sexy quality of both innocence and lustfulness. They said to him that I needed this cock to invade me totally, as if it were separate from him, some sort of pet. I gave it two strokes, and reached the head. I didn't use my fingers like he did, he was a real man and I needed the whole hand to hold onto his head; I then proceeded to lick, up from the balls along the shaft, and onto the head removing one finger at a time. At the end of it his glorious cock rested on my tongue, at the foyer to my impatient mouth. My brother tasted like no-one else I had had, the scent of it was overwhelmingly familiar too and drove me on. This cock was like home, and I wanted it to take me. I looked up with those blowjob eyes as he reached down his hand and tightly grabbed the back of my head - and then he started to walk forwards, keeping my head in place. I was forced down on the cock as I moved my tongue left to right, on top and underneath, wetting as much as possible with my saliva. He went all the way in, down to his base as I loosened my throat - but then, as he was only testing the waters, he drew back to about half way. "Ready slut?" he asked, causing me to moan at his brotherly voice like a bitch in heat, and give two licks up and down in an eager yes. My own dick was now pushing hard against the satiny panties. He then began to thrust his cock into my face, shaping my mouth into the perfect 'O' for his tool's entry. He face fucked me - I was certain I would end up giving him a blowjob, my boyfriends had always praised me for it, but instead he just face fucked me. My head could not move back even if I wanted to, and he thrust his dick in and out at incredible speed. I started to bob forwards to greet him, desperate for a load of sticky cum (an addiction I had before this whole incident, but worsened now that I'm hooked only on my brother's seed), but then he yanked my hair back and I dropped to the ground. He took my panties down to my knees, then picked me up and chucked me onto the bed. I could sense his face behind me before he even spat on my clean asshole. It registered with a cool-warm sensation - his saliva got me more turned on then before, and then when he started to rub his fingers around my asshole I was sure I was in heaven. He lubed it up nicely, though to be fair it was now pretty well trained to relaxing. He put his dick on my back and slowly slid it into my ass, and I clenched to keep it tight so that I could please him. He moaned in satisfaction, and slapped my ass. "That's good, little sis, you have a tight ass." "Oh god, do that again" I moaned. "What, enter?" "No, call me your little sister" I begged. He laughed and pushedin even further, slowly, and eventually he lay on top of me and he bit my ear. "Opheliea, my little sister, my bitch, my slut. You fucking love a big cock in your asshole and you know it's all the better when it's family." I made a noise halfway between a gag and a moan, unable to utter my excitement as my older brother began to pound my asshole from behind, shoving my face into the bedsheets. He picked up the pace and just the feel of nylon on my legs, and the rubbing of my cock between me and the bed, was enough to get me all worked up. And then, he hit my prostate. I screamed out loud, a high, girly scream, and he stopped. Now, I know he was worried (he was my brother after all), but in the heat of the moment all I could do was reach back and slap him, moaning something like "no, again" as I pushed back on his hard cock. Luckily, he got what was going on and he resumed - I hadn't wanted him to stop, but somehow the fact he cared enough to do so made the next few movements even hotter. He picked me up and swivelled us round. He was underneath me, leaning against the head board, and my legs behind me so I was kneeling on his cock, riding it like the filthy whore I swore in that moment to become. He picked at a suspender strap, causing it to twang back and hit my skin. I groaned, the pain sparking the pleasure. He held me tight to him and bit my neck, and I just kept thrusting my hips. It was all me now, my brother's wife, milking his cock for every last drop because I was desperately horny. He'd got himself into the perfect position to hold me, and for his cock to hit my prostate every time I landed. I moaned, high and loud, and sat with a heavy thrust one more time on his dick - it started spurting hot cum right in my insides and I wanted it to reach my cum dump belly. If only I could have my brother's kids! I thought. As it spattered my insides, my own dick, peeking over the panties, went into overdrive and started spurting so that I got a good load hit my like a sucker punch on the bottom of my chin. Some even went in my mouth, and as pleasant as that was, I wanted to taste Patrick's - I was still annoyed I hadn't got to finish the blowjob and wanted cum down my throat as well as up my ass. I hopped off his cock and felt the air rush into my ass as the sticky cum leaked out - cool as well as hot. I was absolutely gaping, my hot brother had girth as well as length; I leant over his cock, cum dribbling from my chin, and saw plenty still stuck to his cock, and more still, oozing from the tip. Greedily, I dropped my mouth to my brother's member while it remained hard, and licked of his cum and caught everything that was still flowing in my mouth. I had now tasted both of our cum in quick succession, and I found they were pretty similar - he was my brother after all - but I dunno. His was different, saltier maybe, or maybe it was in my head. The important thing is that I was hooked. "Ophelia darling" My husband, lover, and brother panted. "Yes sir?" "Sir? I like that..." he paused "Ophelia. Let's just do that forever!" He chuckled. I cuddled in beside him and put my soft, cum glazed lips on his neck. "That would be a bit irresponsible big brother" I stroked his chest "I'll have to help around the house, keep it clean, make us both some dinner." I continued, relaying all my feminine fantasies though I would never imagine this as the role of an actual woman. If Katherine heard me saying this she'd probably actually cut my balls off, especially if I told her what I was really thinking: sissies are probably better wives really, especially for someone like my big brother. "Sounds lovely" he laughed. "But then again" I responded "We still have our honeymoon." Siss the Bride Ch. 02 Anyone who tells you that married life is hard must be part of a straight couple that survives on vanilla sex once every two months or so. I love being married, I get to live out all my wildest fantasies and adventures with the man I love; just over a year ago I married my brother (I could explain why right now but that's a whole other story), but because I was a man when the plan was hatched, I had to become his sissy bitch bride in order for it to work - and boy does it work. On our wedding night he got me immediately hooked to his gorgeous cock and it's governed my life ever since, with my brother always telling me what I should and shouldn't do. It's an easy life when you've got that kind of guidance and reward! Patrick, my brother, says I have to stay dressed up as a girl all the time, even in public; when we went on our honeymoon in Paris I thought I would die of embarrassment - I loved being dressed up as his girly wife in the cutest and most elaborate clothes of course. He bought me all sorts of outfits before we flew out, like nurse uniforms and maid dresses, but it's the corsets and mini-skirts that his best friend and ex-girlfriend Katherine gave me; she's the only other person in on the secret and loves seeing me forced deeper into it. Along with the high leather boots, those kind of clothes have become my every day wear; luckily my figure means I actually pass, but the punk-rock slut aesthetic drew a lot of attention. It wasn't even the attention that bothered me, I knew my sissy ass belonged totally to my brother, it was the slight worry that if I did get caught I'd have no way to explain it! The only thing I can say in the 'language of love' is "j'aime bite" and that really would not help me out of a sticky situation... it may help me into one, but I belong to Patrick so I wouldn't. Our first night in Paris he took me to our hotel room on the third highest floor of our hotel, right in the middle of the building, and fucked me senseless. I'm sure the entire building could hear me screaming "j'aime bite" on repeat, but Patrick told me I should never be ashamed of the truth. On the second day, I went out, all dressed up. I wore a simple black bra, the straps framing the curve of my collar bones, and matching panties, both cotton and pretty plain and cute - they always had to match. Matching meant sex-ready, and I always had to be sex-ready. I also had a suspender, pulling up some torn, striped, black and purple stockings and knee high boots with floral laces. This was all covered up in the minimum by a black and dark red corset, and a tartan mini skirt. So my clothes were definitely fucking sexy, as for my body? Perfectly clean shaven and moisturised, soft skin where the only hair on my body was my pixie cut, which had grown slightly longer, with more volume. I had purple lipstick on (it matched my socks, Patrick says it's cute) and winged eyeliner. As for my average little cock? It was safely tucked away properly. My husband never used a cage with me, he says he likes to see my dick get hard and flop about, knowing I'm not allowed to touch it; he is my brother after all, he likes to tease me. Paris is a beautiful city should you ever have the fortune to go, and it has a very liberal air about it. The sky is bright even when it rains, the people are all so different and varied; they also tend to live within themselves so they don't really care what other people do. There were gay couples everywhere, and even a handful of other crossdressers (they didn't pass, no-one cared. They were having fun!) so really, it's almost like there is nothing you can do that is truly outrageous there! Almost. Patrick took me on a tour boat, the Bateau Mouche, which goes up and down the Seine showing the sights to tourists and making out Paris to be even more romantic than it already is. It is, in fact, a really romantic trip and a lot of couples were there, getting pictures of them kissing with things like the Notre Dame in the background (Patrick got one for posting on the internet, we have a lot of fans...). Naturally, all this lovey stuff got my brother desperately horny, and he grabbed me by the bra strap and took my downstairs to the toilet. Without even checking who may see, he shoved me into the boys bathroom and into a cubicle where he promptly unzipped his trousers and pulled out his gorgeous cock, 9 inches of pure cocksuckers heaven. Obviously I'd seen it just the night before, but if I was honest, I was starting to miss it and seeing it made me drop immediately to my knees. He slapped my face with it and commanded me with no shame or humility in his voice: "Suck." I looked up at him as I licked my lips and wrapped them around his head. I worked the head for a little while, rubbing the bump of the ridge between my lips, and licking the very tip, but then I started moving further down his shaft until my mouth was at his base. IT was only at this point that I realised the situation - this far in I was basically stuck (I was hooked anyway), but I was in public! Someone could walk in at any moment, any tourist, or worse any local, and see me in this position! Would this be public indecency? I don't think I could last a night in jail... Even as this ran through my head, the same head just kept bobbing up and down the glorious cock. The noise I made was not panic, it was a deep moaning that sent vibrations up my throat and around my brother's member as he thrust into my painted face. It took him hardly any time to cum, and he forced my head down (as if he needed to) and made me catch every drop. "Good girl, Ophelia, drink up your husband's every last drop or I won't help you cum for a week" he cooed as I licked the underside of his shrinking dick, gulping furiously. It was the first time ever I'd taken my brothers cum straight from his cock during a blowjob, and the force with which it hit the back of my throat nearly took me by surprise. I luckily managed to still get every drop, and came up with my mouth open and still looking a little white. "Patrick!" I whined as I looked up at him "that was recklessly, stupidly, hot. We could have been caught!" "Sorry, little sis," he replied as he petted my head "but it's your fault for picking such a hot outfit." It's true, I had picked it out. I was getting good at that, and only got better as the honeymoon continued. By the time we got back I had become ten times the slutty wife I was before, and I'd had a pretty good head start, it was like I was an entirely new person. In fact, a couple of days later we got a letter from old what's-his-face, Patrick's little brother. It said he had found a new life in Tibet and was staying there in a secluded and holy life - I may have gone a bit overboard with the irony - and that he left everything to his beloved big brother and his pretty little wife Ophelia. It was signed and everything, and we showed it to everyone we could so that people knew that this was the case. So after our honeymoon, married life continued just as married life does, or at least how it should. Every morning I woke my husband up with a blowjob, either completely gagging on a rock-solid morning wood, or coaxing his dick to full attention, then letting it down gently again - sometimes he would make me lie along his body in the 69 position, so he could either suck my dick or eat my ass. The former, he passed the cum along to me in a snowball, the latter he sticks a butt plug in my ass for the day and I'm not allowed to cum until he gets home from work. While he's busy at his job, I generally keep tidy around the house just to feel like I'm doing something, and so everything will be just so for when he gets back. The chores often involve costume changes. If I'm dusting or hoovering its always the French Maid dress, I do the dishes and clothes wash in my normal lingerie, and by ritual use my wedding lingerie for preparing dinner and waiting for him to come home and fuck me; sometimes I'll go out to the shops, or just for a walk, growing ever more confident in my girly wardrobe, and sometimes I'll go swimming in our pool in my favourite white bikini, with little triangle scraps of fabric that passes for coverage. Of course, I keep this routine up on the weekends as well so that Patrick has an opportunity to fuck me in every single one of those outfits; and when I'm at home he likes me keep my little dick free in case he ever wants it, even when there are guests over. Then, at night, I throw on something sexy, and if he's feeling kinky, the PVC and schoolgirl outfit comes out. Sometimes, the PVC schoolgirl outfit. There's something about these little rituals of everyday life that, far from making it mundane, make me so incredibly aroused at the exciting notion that I have slipped permanently into the wonderfully easy marriage of a trophy wife. Though obviously, a trophy wife is nothing if you can't show her off. If you ever knew me before the marriage, when I was just Patrick's little brother and not his fag slut of a wife (though still a bit of a notorious fag slut in his own right), you probably would have heard me talking at some point about Malcolm. I preferred my guys lean like my big brother, but there was something perfectly charming about Malcolm: his broad Australian accent and broader Australian smile - and even broader shoulders which gave him that muscular triangle body that wasn't too ridiculous, and especially worked on him. I wouldn't pause to breathe in one of my friends got me on to the subject of Malcolm before, heck even a stranger walking in the park may not have been safe. But now of course, I only ever thought of my brother, my brother's cock, my brother's cum. That's why, when Malcolm came to visit, I was barely even phased. I was for my brother's pleasure, I didn't even give him a glance when I arrived. "Paddy!" He roared, his eyes lighting up with glee as he entered the room. It's not like they hadn't seen each other in a long long time, Malcolm lived maybe a few blocks over, but 'Paddy' was usually so busy with one thing or another (I was another) that he rarely saw Malcolm, and not for very long. So, Malcolm was excited to be over, and my brother was just as happy. "Malcolm," he chuckled in response "I'd invite you in, but you seem to know that's not necessary." "Well, I can never be sure," Malcolm grinned sheepishly "it feels like it's been so long, eh?" he added with a guffaw. "Well you know how woman can be," he said, with a gesture to me that obviously said 'come forward'. "You remember my wife, right?" "The ravishing Ophelia" he said, almost with full sincerity "last I saw you, you were in a big white dress and now you look like a double of Katherine! Got a type, eh Paddy?" my brother just nodded his head. "Anyway, shame about Paddy's little bro running away like that, you never met him!" "It's in my understanding," I replied, with a fond smile "that he was always a little bitch anyway." Greeting done, we made our way into the main living room, adjacent to the kitchen and with a sliding patio door that gave a great view of the pool, which is to say, gave my brother a great view of my ass as I climb out the pool in my wet bikini. We stood for a bit in the way people do at a gathering, anticipating, judging, expecting. But it was still comfortable, we were all friendly with each other - my brother said he had to go change because it was too hot, and left me with Malcolm. "So Malcolm," I said, starting some casual conversation "I hope you don't hate me for 'stealing' Patrick's time." "Only as much as I hate him for stealing you away," he chuckled, turning to me. I thought it was an odd response, but I just laughed along with him. "Yeah, right." He seemed to take this as a signal however and started walking me backwards into the wall. "I mean it's selfish really, claiming a lovely thing like you all for himself. I bet you should really be a free spirit, free to fuck wherever you please. I mean, you look just about ready to take a good number of men on all at once and have them trembling at your feet as you make them cum, right hottie?" I don't know what he meant by that, I was in a simple zip-up red dress, though it did end somewhere just below the butt so it could just be seen poking out... and considering I was in just a black thong... and my suspenders were clearly on show holding up the sheer silky tights... Okay, maybe I was well equipped to take on twenty cocks at once, and the thought had actually started to cause my dick to swell, which was not good in this situation. It was then I saw my brother out the corner of my eye, smiling wickedly. He entered into the room with a loud cough, causing Malcolm to spin away from me. He feigned ignorance and asked Malcolm what he'd been up to and all that, before turning to me with a wink, asking me to go get a drink. Now, 'go get a drink' in this marriage roughly equated to 'I am about to fuck you so hard' so I made sure to waggle my butt as I left the room - I had no idea what Patrick was planning but of course I played along. I fetched him two amaretto's on ice - his favourite - then stopped by the door to hear the two speak. "God your wife is hot, where did she come from?" Malcolm said. "Where did she come from? Here, she's always been here. I've known her a long time actually, though you might not have notice her... she certainly noticed you." "Wait. What does that mean?" "Before we were married she'd often tell me how much she wanted to get fucked by you, in the ass and everything, but that I shouldn't tell you." "What the fuck, really? Because I'd love her ass Paddy, I really would." "Yup, the little slut. But thing is, that ass belongs to me now... unless you'd be down to play a little game we learned in Paris - menage a trois?" and on this I entered with the drinks. The two most gorgeous men of my life clinked them together with a grin, then downed them, staring each other in the eye. Patrick went and stood behind me, and hugged me from behind so that he pulled me into a kneeling position with my butt on his lap. "Honey" he said calmly "me and Malcolm were talking and think we'd enjoy a little bonding session, bring us closer again, maybe stop his silly jealousy towards you?" I smiled, looked at Malcolm and replied: "Of course, I'd love to help two men get closer." Malcolm walked slowly over to me, unzipping his jeans and smiling in disbelief. He pulled them down to his ankles, and his pants with them, releasing his cock. It was a nice cock, but I was in some weird way insanely happy to see that it was smaller than my big brother's at about 7, 7 and a half inches? Bigger than mine though, so in my mind everything works out perfectly. I reached my hand out and lightly grabbed his shaft. Meanwhile, my brother started unzipping my dress from behind. I moved my soft pink lips to his head as my brother kissed me on the neck; and then I sank to the bottom of Malcolm's cock in one fluid motion. I heard him groan in pleasure, and looked up to see him closing his eyes. My brother slipped the dress off, underneath me. I started to bob my head on Malcolm's dick, sucking and salivating and getting it wetter and slippier - my brother lubed up my ass and lifted by up on to his cock. I slid down on it until I was sitting in his lap, with him holding me from behind; my wetted lips slipped up and down Malcolm's cock rapidly. I had two beautiful cocks inside of me, something I had dreamed about before the wedding, and was made all the better now that I was doing it in girly lingerie. It felt so right! I continued to bounce on my brother's beautiful monster, while trying my best to gag on Malcolm's cock, moaning and making every minute of it. Patrick grabbed my head and drew me into a kiss from behind. The absence of my mouth on his cock gave Malcolm a brief respite to open his eyes and look down; and with my head moved out of the way as well he could get a very clear view of the third dick of the party flopping hard against my stomach. "Umm, Paddy?" Malcolm stuttered, unsure of quite what to say. He was still incredibly hard, and seemed fixated by my dick. I was still bouncing on my brother's cock, the two of us fucking relentlessly on the floor in front of him. I just know that I was making my whore face, Patrick was fucking me so well, and I was enjoying it so much it was nearly painful. I would have my mouth open, and eyes rolling down my nose in an ecstasy, only capable of focusing on the sex. My brother spoke to Malcolm from over my shoulder. "Look, now is obviously a really bad time to explain, cause we're not going to stop now; but if you want, I'll let you take a piece of this ass you wanted so much? Isn't she still the hottest slut you've known in a while?" He said, panting as he met his lap with my smooth ass. When he said this, I slowly lifted myself off his cock, and positioned myself on all fours with my butt pointing straight at Malcolm. I know that my sissy hole, clean, shaven, and gaping, is perfectly inviting and impossible to resist; a fact proved when I felt Malcolm kneel behind me and slide his still-throbbing member straight in. My brother smiled, and moved round in front of me. He grabbed my hair and slapped my face with his cock - wetting me behind the ears with his precum. He was making a show of marking his territory in front of the other male, especially now the other male was preparing to use my tightest hole, the hole that defines who owns me. As if he needed to remind me! I was sticking my tongue out, desperate to get a taste of that cum, letting him easily slide in all the way to the base, and he face fucked me in the way he does best. I was on all fours, my two holes being filled, and emptied, and filled again in perfect synchronisation. They had started to time their thrusts together, so when they thrust in I was completely loaded with their cocks, filling me with lust, and when they thrust out I was empty, which made me even more lustful. I could do nothing but stay in that slutty position, arcing my back and looking lovingly up at my brother and husband, while pushing back slightly on my old crush. Between them they were panting the most lust-swelling obscenities: hungry slut!; desperate trap; little faggy bitch! It was heaven having both my holes used like this, especially since it was my husband's idea! The two thrust in again, and I was the first to cum, I was just too excited to be used. I came up my chest, and was moaning desperately at cumming this way; this caused my brother to start unloading in my mouth. However, at exactly the same time, the orgasm made me clench my ass and buck my hips backwards; this made Malcolm cum straight up the walls of my ass. They were both cumming together, filling up my cum dump belly from both ways, all while my little dick was shooting out ropes and ropes more of cum, spots getting on my bra and the red dress which had been left under me. Malcolm heaved a sigh and slipped out of my hole, and Patrick went and grabbed the camera from the side table: I immediately assumed our special position, ever more special by this 'bonding' event. I rolled onto my back and grabbed my legs behind the knees, lifting them up so my gaping asshole could clearly be seen. From it, Malcolm's cum was leaking; up my stomach and chest (bra included) I was covered in my own weak pale cum; and on my chin a little dribble of my brother's cum that I had left for the purpose of the photo. He took some pictures, and then I licked up the last of his cum, and relaxed, lay on the floor and closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling of being covered in all kinds of jizz. "So that's what happened to your little brother" I heard Malcolm say, in a light hearted tone. "So you figured it out? Welcome to the secret, buddy. But it's my sister, obviously. My desperate slut of a sister. You have no objections?" Siss the Bride Ch. 02 "I don't think I deserve objections after enjoying fucking her so much with you. I've only got to say, please don't tell Katherine" Side note, it turned out that he was actually going out with Katherine now, and half the reason he was so turned on by me is because I'm the sissy spit of her. Still, a relationship with Katherine: it made me wonder if he'd ever been pegged by her? I don't think he has before, but he definitely might now. "Don't tell her?" my brother laughed, in shock "she already knows about this slut, and seeing Ophelia like this is right up her street. Heck, next time, she should watch!" My eyes bolted open. Fuck yes, I thought: 'next time'. Siss the Bride Ch. 03 Every marriage has its problems, even mine, which is a huge problem considering I'm a guy who gave up every semblance of a normal life to follow hidden fantasies on a spur of whimsy induced by my hot older brother. My life during my marriage to my brother has been built upon submission, only natural when you are a sissy crossdresser and when he has the perfect tool to keep you there; and also, naturally, I do love him. However, the other thing I've built this new life on is sex: I'm a walking fetish! (which I do love by the way, both in sexual and non-sexual situations). However, the problem is that I am as dependant on gratification as I am my brother – gratification is one of the other great masters of life, relentlessly buttfucking humanity in the brain. So, there was one little incident, a few stupid mistakes, that nearly jeopardised what I have. It started, as some of my best stories do, with me on all fours. Malcolm, the hunky, bombastic Australian with the body of a movie star and the sexual stamina of a High School Footballer, had his cock in my cherry-red lipped mouth. His head was just pushing open the tightness at the back of my throat, guiding the rest of his member onto my ever-lapping tongue. Meanwhile, my big brother was casually thrusting his own massive cock into my accommodating sissy ass – he was taking his time, teasing me, slow in pace, and only hitting my sweet spot every once in a while. He was doing this on purpose, he was an excellent lover and knew exactly how to please me if he wanted to get me off – teasing me just extended the pleasure. So there was me, fully naked apart from my stockings and heels, in the garden (did I forget to mention that? We'd just been fucking in the pool when Malcolm and Katherine arrived), being fucked torturously slowly by the two greatest cocks I have ever had the repeated pleasure of servicing. As per my brother's promise, Katherine had started coming to watch these little fuck sessions and, as per her promise, this time she had her camera next to her filming the entire thing. She had her hands down the front of her denim short-shorts and I could hear her as she narrated a story of my degradation for the camera. "Look at this desperate, faggy, slut." She was saying, in a lusty drawl. She was putting on the 'domme' voice which would undoubtedly turn on admirer and fellow sissy alike "two cocks in her and you can tell she still wants more – how naughty! She should be glad her husband has been kind to share her with his friend, how selfish can a bitch be? Such a greedy cumslut, she'd probably hump, fuck, and suck her own brother if it meant she'd get a hot, sticky, load of cum: everywhere, in her mouth, her hair, her eyes. She has such good skin, right people? The secret is lots and lots of cum." I like Katherine. She was actually really kind to me when we went out together, she really made me one of the girls, especially with all the clothes she gave me and helped me buy – my own style was very much influence by this blonde punk-princess, though being a princess she was of a higher class than the punk-whore. I mean, she was glad a guy could embrace his feminine side! But she also recognised that as soon as sex was explicitly involved, that embrace is one of submission, and she swung in the other direction. She did everything she could to make me out as a submissive sissy fag, neither man nor girl, just a slut to be used. Which is why, after her little story, I saw her whisper something to the camera out the corner of my eye. I might have wondered what she was up to, but I assumed it was a cue for me to play up the slut act, so I moaned loud onto Malcolm's cock, and tilted my head as I bobbed my head forwards, savouring the taste of the dick on my tongue, which I rubbed along the veined ridge. My brother also picked up his pace at that point, but just as I was getting into it, he stopped suddenly. For a split second I thought he had cummed, but the lack of wetness splattering my insides soon proved that wasn't the case. Then, provoking a disappointed moan from me, he slipped out. I flexed my gaping hole, a signal begging for his re-entry, but he just walked round to my front and rubbed his pre-cum on my cheek as I continued to suck. I got the hint. I grabbed his dick, and moved my mouth from Malcolm to him. He thrust his dick into my mouth in one fluid motion, but at the same time, something entered me in a slick, rubbery thrust. It was like oil in my ass, it was deeply erotic in that it was something new and unknown – but of course, I knew exactly what it was. I pulled my mouth away and looked over my shoulder; sure enough, Katherine was there, fucking my ass with a massive black strap-on. My brother grabbed my hair and twisted my head round to face the two men. He had both his, and Malcolm's cock in his hand, right next to each other. I looked up at them, innocence and lustful hunger once more mingling in my eyes. This was new, and exciting. Malcolm, who I always thought of as the most straight-laced guy ever, did not seem phased by his dick in contact with his best friend's monster cock, or that both would soon be in the mouth of the cross-dressing brother of said best friend. Oh, and his girlfriend was fucking the brother in the ass with the same dildo he had come to know. I opened my mouth wide and wrapped it round the two cocks – holy fuck, it was like trying to fit in a mega lollipop in all at once. The width forced my mouth even wider than I had it, and now air could rush through. I was breathing hard through my nose, and the taste combined with the sheer mass had me salivating uncontrollably. All the while, Katherine was ripping into my ass, forcing me forwards as she tried to get as much pleasure as possible from the toy as it rubbed against her clit. My own sissy 'clit' was getting ever harder, but still managed to be the smallest 'cock' around. Katherine slapped my ass, and Patrick tugged my hair so I started to choke on the cocks – even Malcolm had his hand at the back of my head. They were all narrating this degradation. "Hey Katherine" The Aussie accent chimed to his girlfriend "how's this bitch enjoying Lucian?" "Well she's moaning good enough" Kate grunted "but I think we should introduce her to The Duke next time." "Woah, Kate, hold up" Patrick said "As her husband, I don't think she should – I don't want her knowing there are dicks bigger than mine!" "I told you, don't call me Kate! Do that again, I'll use the Duke to cuckold you and make you both my sissy bitches. You all know I would!" I was feeling really good about all this (even the idea of my brother becoming a fellow sister, because I'd still be the sub!) and was just getting into the swing of things when I felt 'Lucian' stop moving while buried as deep as possible in my ass. My brother and Malcolm backed away, and my brother knelt down quickly and kissed me hard before turning me onto my back. That is when I saw one of the most unappealing sights a gay guy can see in his life – a fully aroused, dripping wet, pussy. Just not my cup of tea I'm afraid, and I probably won't be very good at describing what came next but I sure can try. Katherine had unstrapped herself from 'Lucian', but had left him deep inside me. After I had been turned to look at her, she produced a small piece of string and tied it tightly around my shaven balls, making them go numb. I was still rock solid, a full 6 inches pointing straight upwards, and now Katherine had her pussy poised over it – I looked away, focusing on the two cocks which were still hovering over my face. I knew instinctively what was going on next: I reached out both my hands and grabbed the two dicks, started stroking them slowly, rubbing my thumbs over the heads. Something warm, and wet, wrapped itself around my dick. Gay is gay, and attraction is attraction, but when I can't see what's down there, it just feels the same as my brother's mouth. Either from her own arousal, or what she called the 'mediocre girl-cock', Katherine had slipped straight down to my base and was working the pool with long, haughty moans. It sent a wave of pleasure down my little dick, that swiftly turned to a pulse of pain when it reached my tied up balls. I continued to focus on the cocks, on working the shafts with my hands, with the messy load due to cover my face, but Katherine was getting very distracting in her excitement. "ugh, you little fag, you'd better thank me for this. Your silly little dick doesn't get the pleasure of being in a hole very often, you should be grateful for what you get." Somewhere, something inside of me reacted to this in a way I thought I never would: "Yes mistress" I replied obediently. She laughed. "Aww, Ophelia, that's so cute!" which made me smile, before she continued in her dome voice "but you're gonna prove your submission by letting me enjoy your cock as much as possible." And she continued to grind her pussy on my dick, hitting my head against her clit. I had lost all control, even the two dicks in my hands seemed to be pumping themselves – time sped up and soon enough Malcolm was shooting ropes of cum over my face. It splashed in my hair, and some dropped onto my tongue; seeing her boyfriend cum must have really helped Katherine because she tightened on my dick, and let out the loudest scream. The neighbours, if they hadn't heard us before, definitely heard that. She was flopping on top of me, cumming, and I could only feel an extreme throbbing where my dick was getting desperate to spew. This in turn obviously got my brother going, for another burst of cum hit me square in the eye while I was distracted by Katherine. The strapon was pressed against my prostate, and all this sexual activity around me made me the horniest I have ever been in my life (which is saying a lot). I absolutely needed to cum, but my brother had set down the absolute rule I am not allowed to do it myself unless he asks me to show him. For some reason, no matter what, I stuck to that rule. Which is why I was very confused when Katherine slipped off my still-throbbing dick, and fetched the video camera to take the last shot – I still smiled my cummy smile for our fans, but I was slightly put out. My brother got me a cookie and dried my face off (a favourite treat of mine) and they all went and got dressed. "Umm, honey?" I asked, causing all three to turn around. Patrick and Katherine, forever the closest friends, wore the same expression of pretend innocence. Malcolm looked a little more abashed. "that was really lovely, but do you want me to do a show for you now?" "Oh that!" my husband laughed, light hearted but still scary and unknown "No, Katherine was telling me about this excellent thing called orgasm denial. Should make you ever hornier and hornier, always desperate for the next opportunity to cum" as he said this, Katherine came over, untied my balls, winked and gave me a kiss on the forehead. It was part of a great game obviously, and this was her in caring mode, but I was shocked. They'd all got their orgasm, where the fuck was mine? In this confused state I got up and followed them into the house, and went up to my room to get changed into some clothes. It was difficult getting the panties back on, what with my still raging boner, but I dressed up diligently just the same, I always liked to look pretty. As I was pulling up my red pleated mini-skirt I heard a car pull out of the drive. That must be Katherine and Malcolm going home, I thought. Then, as I was buttoning up my blouse, I heard my door creak open. That must be my brother, I thought. I was wrong both times. Malcolm stood leaning against my doorframe, hands in his pockets, and a sad smile on his face. He was clearly admiring me. He stepped forward into my room, I sat back on my bed. "Sorry about all that Ophelia" he sighed "Katherine never does that stuff with me and, well, you're special to her. She gets to try things out, you're exciting." "It's okay, I know she means well" I looked back at him, half-smiling, before adding "god it's fucking painful though!" "It bloody well looks it! But, you know... the two of them have just gone out to dinner together – I said I'm not hungry. I'm sure they wouldn't notice if..." "If what?" I said, already perking up despite an underlying guilt somewhere in my gut. "Well, if I fucked you into a cummy oblivion to be frank about it" He responded, smiling fully. I bit my lip, looked up at him, and nodded my head. It felt so wrong, betraying my husband like this, but my heart nor my brain was in charge at that moment, I was being led by the fully charged lust of my dick. I got up from my bed, and kissed Malcolm on the lips, not a romantic kiss at all. A wet, sexual kiss that served its purpose: Malcolm, despite having just cum all over me, was near-instantly hard. He grabbed me by both arms and swivelled me round him, thrusting me against the wall and kissing me hard, his tongue crawling down my throat, causing me to gag in surprise. I pulled away from the kiss, both our saliva bridging between us, and turned around. I put my hands on the wall, I arched my back and emphasised my ass and panties, clearly visible beneath the skirt. Malcolm simply slid the panties aside to reveal my hole and fucked me fully clothed. His cock fell into my gaping hole (still sore from 'Lucian') and caused me to fall against the wall. I grunted my satisfaction. He thrust in, slowly, patiently, not wanting to cum until he knew he had it right – and when he had it right, he knew. He hit my prostate and I wailed like a little baby. He put his hand on my cock, to my delighted surprise, and started stroking me very lightly and slowly – then he thrusted again, hit my prostate, and I came buckets. My cum hit the wall, my dick feeling a glorious release mingled with a tingling pain. Some of it splashed back, onto my legs and feet, and as the shockwaves of pleasure passed through me, Malcolm also started to cum, filling my ass with his seed. I felt so incredibly dirty, but that kind of sexual gratification was incredible. Maybe my brother was right about orgasm denial, but I didn't take note of that at that moment. I just knew that I wanted more of that. First things first, my sissy instinct cut in and I dropped to me knees and started licking the wall clean, drinking my own cum and moaning my thanks to Malcolm: he took a few pictures and a short video. Then, after that, he kissed me and helped me clean up. Since that, I started seeing him when my brother was at work. In the morning, I swallowed my brother's cum lovingly and happily, as I always had done and hoped to always continue to; at midday, Malcolm would fuck me in the ass so hard that I would cum everywhere – sometimes he used his hands if I need help, I normally don't; and then, obviously, at night my brother fucks me with a string tied tightly round my balls. After he cums in me (which I still enjoyed) he'd tell me that I wasn't allowed to cum until he said, that he was saving it for some special event that was coming up. Now, I have no idea what he thought was 'coming up', the only thing I knew was 'coming up' was Malcolm 'cumming up' my ass. Luckily, I was less frustrated than I could have been because of all Malcolm's help, but the fact I had to attempt to go to sleep with an uncomfortable boner. That mild inconvenience alone gave me the will to continue the affair. However, that stupidity, arrogance and stubbornness is what led to it all going sour. Naturally, one day, my brother caught me cheating on him. I was dressed in his favourite PVC outfit of mine, as a proper thank you to Malcolm for helping me evade my orgasm denial. It was comprised of a very tight waisted corset, elbow-length gloves, and thigh-high socks. All jet black shiny PVC. When I wore that, I didn't wear anything else, and sex was always at its sluttiest. Malcolm was sitting on the sofa, and I was straddling him, spread-legged, bouncing up and down and slapping my bare ass onto his lap. He was biting along my back and calling me his secret beautiful sissy slut – he was starting to get as good at fucking me as my brother, he'd started to know all my little kinks that my brother knew from a lifetime of being in the room next to me and the many men I'd bring home. And also from marrying me, that put him at an advantage too. Even so, Malcolm was fucking me really well – though I was doing most of the work, he just had to sit and keep hold of my cock so I could pleasure us both – and I had my eyes closed in ecstasy. I was moaning and bouncing when I hear Malcolm say 'shit' from underneath me. I assumed that was another grunt of pleasure and I went into overdrive, milking his cock with my ass, desperate to get that cumload that would send me over the edge. The truth was far from it. "Get out" I heard my brother whisper hoarsely. My eyes shot open. Shit. He was ashen faced, appalled, and actually looking a bit hurt. Looking back, I gotta say, his pale face underneath his tangled black hair; the spark of anger that glinted at the back of his sad silver eyes. It was pretty fucking hot. However, at that moment I only felt the deepest shame. What was I doing, playing around like this, this was my brother I was hurting. I couldn't do this to him, of all people! After I'd married him it seemed to love him like I did was the most natural thing in the world, but by fucking Malcolm I'd gone back on that. "Get out" he repeated, a little sterner. I jumped off Malcolm and quickly put on some red silky panties, but ran outside in due haste – Malcolm followed, zipping up his trousers. "It'll be okay, Ophelia" Malcolm cooed, trying his very best to calm me down as I was obviously in a panicky state, breathing quick and shallow. "He's mad now, but it will blow over and – " "No, fuck off!" I wailed, breathing heavily, scared "I've messed it up, I've lost everything. I'm nothing now!" and I pushed him back, hard. Taking the opportunity of him being stunned, I ran. I ran for god knows where, towards town, even at that time of day. I tottered slightly in my heels, but heels were the only type of shoes I was allowed to wear so it wasn't too different when it came to running. I started taking back alleys to avoid people, in case my cock was still showing through my panties. I hadn't cum, so it could have still been throbbing. I made my way to this alley, near a gay bar I used to frequent. In fact, I took my older brother there once on my 21st birthday. He got hit on by so many guys, that I had to swoop in on the dance floor to save him – I'd even worked in a cheeky grind now that I thought about it. I was really drunk, they did good cocktails at this place – it's where my husband first had his favourite drink of amaretto on ice. Well, ex-husband now, I thought. I sat on the dirty alley floor and considered my position. The PVC squeaked as I sat down. I was no longer really a man, I couldn't very well go back to a normal human life and job. I hadn't exactly made any irreversible changes, to be fair, but I had essentially killed off my former self. I had basically made myself into a fuck toy – and if I was honest that was the life I enjoyed. So, for a sissy fucktoy like me with no master in sight, there were two options. One, pornography, which let's face it is too difficult to get into (even if I do have amateur experience). The other, street prostitution. Random hook ups, plenty of different cum, money for sex. That last thing struck me as pretty fair a deal – money and sex! Considering I would pretty happily do it for free. It was an easy job too, suck a cock here, open my ass there – and as long as my ass remained as good as it was, no one would ask questions about the front. But still, the idea terrified me, it was nothing to the fantasy of returning to my brother's arms. The day had grown dark, and quiet. It was night now, definitely night. I still definitely needed to cum, I was still horny from Malcolm fucking me, even if my boner had receded. That thought, the PVC tight against me like a second skin, and the silky smoothness on my dick started to get me hard again. Yet, I still didn't stroke it; I resolved that I only deserved to cum if a client made me cum. I could self-impose some punishments, it would just make me more industrious. As I thought this, I heard the noise of a car drifting down the road, the first I'd heard. I crawled out the alley and stood up in the blaze of the headlights – in this part of town, how I was dressed wouldn't matter. The car stopped, I was prepared to meet my first client. I shielded my eyes against the light as the car door slammed, and a man climbed out, a black silhouette approaching quickly. He grabbed me round the waist, and forced me back into the alley. My eyes adjusted, and who else should I see but my brother? Siss the Bride Ch. 03 "Patrick?" I started to ask, but was cut off by his mouth hard, furious, and passionate against my own. He came up for air with a gasp of breath. "Don't ever scare me like that again, little sister" He panted. "I was worried sick, you could have been taken my some mysterious man" I looked up at him, amazed, as he had me still pinned to the wall. "But, I already was with another man. I'm so sorry Patrick, I was impatient and stupid." "That's right, you were weren't you, you little slut?" he said with a smile. He turned me round and made me lean against the wall. "You're such a horny little bitch you couldn't last a day without cumming. That always was the case, eh sis?" "Yeah, it was bro" I replied, starting to feel comforted. I felt his spit cold against the entrance to my ass "I'm sure you could always hear" "God you're a loud slut" he laughed, his head pressing against my ass. Frustratingly slowly, he started to slide his cock into my ass. I proved him right, moaning in a crescendo as he got deeper and deeper in. "You're in big trouble you silly sissy." He said as he got to the base, and slowly started to slide out. He was really drawing this out. "First you cheat on me, then you break your orgasm denial, then you run away. I should really punish you much harder than this." I nodded and moaned my consent – he was fucking me, I was forgiven, I was happy, that was enough. He slowly started to pick up the pace. "however, I did notice, that even now you are incredibly horny. I guess Malcolm was telling the truth – you never broke my rule. You simply do not touch yourself anymore." "Yes!" I cried as he started to rub his head on my sensitive spot "Yes, I never touch myself. What a change of fates, eh bro?" he continued fucking me and laughed his agreement. I started to buck my hips in time with his movements, trying to get as much as possible from his dick, milking it even more than I was milking Malcolm's. I'd nearly forgotten in the heat of the affair, how much nicer my big brother's cock was than Malcolm's. My brother put his hand on my cock, and started stroking furiously. The relief, as much as the physical pleasure, got to me and I started cumming. Patrick caught as much as he could in my hand, and shoved it over my face. I licked it all up, in between his fingers and down his wrist too, still bucking my hips and moaning. He shot his load in, a thick burst of warm cum that made me moan his name in ecstasy "Patrick, my master, my husband, fuck me, fuck me" as we both continued to cum. He kept me pressed up against the wall even as his cock shrank in me. We stayed there for a good minute or so in an exhausted silence. "just so you know" he said in my ear, nibbling it "today was going to be your big cumming day anyway. I got a promotion I've been expecting for a while, and wanted to celebrate with you" "I'm sorry for running it" I whispered, and I was, I looked down at the floor and counted my blessings for the puddle of our cum gathering there. "Yeah, well, it's in the behind now" he said, laughing a breathy laugh on my neck "and besides, if I'm honest, this was just as good as that – and I hated not seeing you cum anyway. You're so cute when you cum." "Never fight again?" I sighed. "Never do this again." He confirmed. He straightened me up and turned me round into a hug, or soft, wet cocks pressing against each other, and my even softer, even wetter lips pressed against his. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, like he did on our honeymoon, and my brother took me home.