by Mary Jaine
With that, he slipped her panties all the way down, grinning to himself at the ready way she stepped out of them, and pushed her gently over to his bed, to bend her over so her hands were flat on the bed. Izzy's head was whirling as things she hadn't planned, and now couldn't stop, and wouldn't anyway, unfolded around her.
She bent forward willingly, gasping softly as she felt the touch of his lips on the small of her back, burning like hot ice against her suddenly overheated skin. His hands holding and caressing her buttocks suddenly grasped and pulled them apart, and she gasped yet again as he thrust his face between her spread legs and licked all the way along her labia.
Izzy nearly collapsed onto the bed, suddenly rubber-kneed with the sensations ripping through her as Ollie slid the flat of his tongue along her labia again and again, each time bringing another crescendo of pleasure.
Izzy was shaking and crying now, sobbing for breath, for release from the exquisite torture of his tongue as he wetted her entire crotch with his saliva, his tongue-tip dancing along her perineum to insinuate itself between her labia, forcing them open, until, just as she thought she'd explode from the pent-up need, he jammed his tongue deep into her tight anus, as his thumb rubbed gently but insistently against her still-swollen clitoris.
Izzy collapsed on the bed with a guttural, gurgling scream, fortunately muffled by the bedclothes, as her mind exploded with the intensity of her orgasm, wave upon wave of pleasure sweeping through her until she lay, limp as a dishrag, completely overwhelmed by the experience.
It took a while, but finally the ringing in her head subsided a little, and she became aware of her brother softly calling her name.
"Iz, Izzy, c'mon Popsy, wakey-wakey!" and with that he gave her a playful smack on her bare bottom. That woke her up, and she rolled muzzily onto her back to look up at him.
"First taste, Izzy. We have a deal, remember? Let's do this. I'll seduce Mum for you, you make sure you catch us at it, maybe even get some pictures, and then...then I'm going to fuck you bow-legged, got that? Quid pro quo, Izzy, that's the name of the game. We're going to play, and with what you get on her Mum will have to keep her mouth shut and back-off while we do the wild thing any time and any way I want. Is that clear enough for you?"
Izzy held out her hands for him to pull her upright, grinning minxily as her face came level with the really obvious bulge in the front of his jeans. Her grin grew even more lewd as she reached out and scratched at the large bulge pulsing under the thick denim, her eyes dancing when he jerked.
"Affirmative, Sir, yes Sir, big brother, Sir!" she teased, saluting him cheekily, her eyes not leaving his as she squeezed the by now very obvious bulge, while she bit and licked her bottom lip sexily.
Ollie nearly groaned at how incredibly appealing she looked when she did that, but his cock throbbed even more, making her eyes narrow as she redoubled her squeezing and stroking of him.
"Fair's fair, Ollie-pollie!" she grinned, squeezing harder now, feeling the thick outline of his cock throb against her fingers, and then he was sighing as she undid his belt and popped the button of his jeans, sliding down the zipper to his evident relief.
"No, not until..." he protested half-heartedly, so she didn't hear him, and reached into the gap in his shorts to take hold of the fat cock she could feel pulsing in there, feeling a slight sense of trepidation as she realised just how thick it was.
She pulled him free and gasped; she'd glimpsed him naked a few times, mostly stepping out of the shower, so she knew he had a sizeable cock, but now, in its fully erect state, she was both intimidated and aroused to almost fever pitch by the sight of that long, thick, stem of shiny flesh, warm and hard, overlaid with a deceptive velvety softness, and traced with bulging veins. She gazed at it in happy anticipation; the last time she saw something that long, it had a knee-joint in the middle...
Izzy smiled happily as she gazed in rapt delight at her brother's thick cock; that stupid bitch Shulagh Devlin didn't know just what the fuck she was missing!
"Wow, holy shit, wow!" she breathed, and then Ollie groaned softly again as she slid her plump lips over the shiny purple bell of his cock, barely fitting him in her mouth. Izzy had sucked cocks before, but this was a whole new experience for her. At least Ollie had enough regard for her to not try and ram that thing down her throat; instead, he stood stock-still, her hand on his solid buttock feeling the muscular trembling and rippling as he fought to control himself, to not face-fuck her, to hold himself back from just jamming that thick column of flesh down her throat and probably injuring her.
Izzy was in heaven; her brother tasted wonderful; clean and tangy, with a salty-sweet aftertaste, and he smelled nice too, a fresh, slightly salty, slightly metallic scent, and under that, the smell of his skin, clean and masculine, with just a hint of shower-soap and fresh water; obviously he'd freshened-up for Shulagh. Too bad she was never going to get her hands on this, thought Izzy, not now, not ever.
She sucked and squeezed him, fisting him as she sucked, losing all sense of the fact he was her brother; now he was just the man she wanted, the man whose cock she was sucking so avidly.
Ollie sensed her need. Now they'd come this far, there was only one thing he wanted to do. He stepped back, pulling his cock from her suctioning mouth with an audible 'pop!'
Izzy looked up at him in hurt surprise; surely this was what he wanted...?
She smiled when he suddenly leaned down and pulled her top up, revealing her pert, perfect little breasts, the pouting mounds topped with dark pink nipples like rose hips, hard little fruit ripe for the plucking. Ollie wasted no time in pushing her onto her back; his lips clamped around one nipple, his teeth and tongue gently scraping and lashing the hard little bud as he squeezed and rolled the other between thumb and forefinger.
Izzy was in a world of delight; her breasts were always the most sensitive part of her, and she loved the feeling of her tops and blouses rubbing against her nipples, teasing them, keeping them erect, and keeping her in a constant state of low-level arousal, and now her brother was squeezing, sucking and biting them gently, all the things she liked.
She almost cried out when he lifted his lips away from her breasts, her protests dying unsaid as his lips crushed against hers, while his hands squeezed and pulled her buttocks apart. Her eyes widened and she squealed into his mouth as he slowly, unstoppably, slid his length deep into her tight, juicy pussy.
Izzy had had sex many times before, but never with a man like Ollie, and certainly had never had a prick that big shoved into her before. All her switches blew wide-open as that thick flesh drove tirelessly into her, pounding her into the bed, building to an impossible crescendo inside her, until finally, when she thought she could take no more, her orgasm hit, slamming into her like a thunderclap, her scream of release only muffled by his lips sealed around hers.
As she came, her pussy tightened convulsively around him, a pressure Ollie had never felt before either, a sensation that instantly triggered his own climax. His cock pulsed, twitched and threshed, convulsing like a live creature as sperm gushed into her like a fire-hose, endlessly spurting, filling her with a heat like never before. The sensation of Ollie exploding inside her, the knowledge of just how forbidden and taboo this act really was, sent her off into another orgasmic spasm, and another; she could actually feel his cockhead swelling and throbbing with the force of his ejaculations, again and again, and again.
Ollie groaned as she squealed and panted into their tightly-sealed mouths, her hands holding his head rigidly as their kiss went on and on. Her supple thighs gripped him tightly, and her legs crossed behind him to hold him against her as their mutual orgasm burned and seared through them.
At last, her brother's rigid muscles relaxed as he finished, completely spent inside her. Izzy relaxed her thighs, releasing him as she slumped back on the bed, both of them with their lips still locked together in that spectacular kiss, tongues still intertwined as the afterglow took them.
Finally, Ollie
raised himself up on his elbows and smiled down at her.
"Are you okay, Iz?" he whispered.
Izzy smiled languidly back up at him, careless of the fact she was naked from the waist down, that her top was pushed up to her shoulders, her nipples were huge and throbbing caps on her swollen, tender breasts, and her pussy was gaping, red, and swollen.
That had been the best sex she'd ever had; all her other boyfriends and lovers had been self-centred pricks who'd got on, got off, then rolled off, leaving her hanging. It had taken her brother to show her what shuddering, shattering, window-rattling sex was like. She nodded somewhat blearily and gave him two shaky thumbs-up as she grinned, biting her bottom lip and looking hot and desirable in her 'just fucked' state.
Ollie grinned and pulled her upright. Izzy was like a rag doll in his powerful grip, suddenly appreciating for the first time just how much poise and power her brother had, both physically and in the way his personality had overwhelmed hers.
He held her against him, his big hands clamped tightly around her bottom, keeping her crotch tightly pressed to his, and they gazed at each other, their lips lightly grazing and breaking away, to graze again, and again, acknowledging this new phase in their relationship, and recognising the way they now felt about each other.
"Hi, Bonehead..." she breathed, kissing him tenderly, darting her tongue out to lick his lips as she kissed him. Ollie responded just as playfully, his hands still holding her deliciously firm bottom tightly.
"Hi Skanky..." he whispered back, before kissing her again, this time holding the kiss, showing her what she meant to him.
Lost in their rapt examination of each other as they kissed and licked each other's lips, neither of them noticed the faint creak of the floorboards outside Ollie's room, or that the previously closed door was now very slightly ajar.
Part 3: The plot unfolds, and gets hijacked:
Carol Bartlett tiptoed away down the corridor, shocked at what she'd seen and heard, but also, if truth be told, aroused as well. So Ollie thought she was hot, did he, and now he was plotting with his little sister to fuck her? The thought made her tingle inside, and Carol couldn't decide if she was amused and aroused, annoyed and aroused, or just plain aroused, but she was honest enough with herself to at least admit the arousal.
Izzy was right about one thing; five years WAS too long to do without. It was just that no-one had yet managed to interest her in the way James, her husband, had, and still did, even though he'd broken her heart when he took-off with that blowsy, bleached harlot.
More and more these days, Carol had been daydreaming about Ollie and what he got up to with his girlfriends; she'd been surprised to hear that Shulagh wasn't letting him get a sniff, considering what a slut Shulagh's big sister was, and how legendarily easy her mother had been. Carol remembered how, when she was young, the word was that all you had to do was tip your hat at her and Marla Devlin would be flat on her back with her panties around one ankle and the Vaseline on standby; she was notorious for being able to trip a guy up and be under him before he hit the floor. Carol had just assumed that Shulagh, like her sister, was a chip off the old block, and that Ollie had been reaming-out that gorgeous, flame-haired little cock-tease on a regular basis; now, to find out he was on the boil and had no-one to take it out on, well, that just opened up a whole range of possibilities...
The fact he'd just shagged his sister meant surprisingly little to her; they were both almost ridiculously good looking, young, and fizzing with pent-up sexual tension. It had been only a matter of time, and it didn't really bother her, for some very good reasons that concerned all three of them.
Rather, it made her envious (and horny) and so Carol came to the decision that what was good for Izzy was equally good for her; the time was approaching for her to let Ollie have his way with her; he'd had his fun with Izzy, they'd started plotting to get her, so they were both old enough now to find out the truth about this family; now, all she had to do was let him set her up for the great seduction; this should be fun...
*
The following morning, Carol puttered around the breakfast kitchen, making breakfast early; both Ollie and Izzy had classes all day, so she was making them a proper hot breakfast. Ollie studied her thoughtfully. Instead of her usual frumpy housecoat, she was wearing a cut-off, baggy T-shirt and skin-tight grey yoga pants. Ollie was lost in contemplation of her really quite spectacular booty, and the sleek lines and alluring curve of her long, slender thighs and neatly turned calves, when Izzy nudged him, slopping his tea over the table as he snapped out of his trance-like state.
Carol saw the whole thing out of the corner of her eye, and smiled to herself; so, the little plotters were getting ready to make their move, were they? Time to up the stakes...
"Ollie, eat something!" she reminded him, and bent down to open the oven door, her stretchy yoga-pants pulled tight against her delicious bottom and up between her thighs, the clingy material outlining a slight, but unmistakeable, camel-toe. Her loose tee also hung down, and she subtly manoeuvred herself so he was looking straight up at the undersides of her bra-less breasts as they swung unfettered inside her top. Carol heard the softly indrawn breath, and knew he was openly ogling the double-curve of her bum and the crack of her backside, clearly outlined in the tight, stretchy leggings. She could hear him shifting uncomfortably as he tried to see even further up her shirt.
That being so, she made sure she wriggled just enough to make her cheeks quiver and her boobs swing and swoop around inside her t-shirt, drawing another soft hiss of indrawn breath from him. When she was sure she'd given him enough to have a very uncomfortable, distracted day, she straightened-up, pretending not to notice the strained look on Ollie's face, and the puzzled, wary look on Izzy's as she went about her breakfast tasks, all the while making sure her splendid backside displayed the maximum amount of wriggle and jiggle inside those sleek, skin-tight pants.
On her way to classes at London Metropolitan, where she was studying for a degree in journalism, film, and television studies, because she harboured thoughts of one day being a TV producer, Izzy pondered how her mother had been at breakfast. OK, so she normally fawned over Ollie like he was gold-plated, but that morning there had seemed to be an edge to it, something different, maybe even something flirtatious? Well, she was a cow, maybe Mad Cow Disease had struck and it was time for the white coats to come and get her; she was two sticks short of a bundle at the best of times, perhaps she'd finally gone completely batty and they could lock her up in a soft room somewhere with a bubble-pipe for company and all the silly-putty she could eat...
Thinking happy thoughts like this, Izzy made her way across London to the campus in North London, but occupied fully as she was with her course-work, that little termite of disquiet still refused to drop away, instead gnawing and burrowing around inside her mind all day. By the end of the day, having thoroughly chewed it over, three possibilities had presented themselves.
One: She'd gone bats and it was time to quietly lock her away before she started wandering the streets with her underpants on her head.
Two: She'd rumbled them and was mind-fucking them before delivering the sucker-punch, or:
Three: She actually had the hots for Ollie and she'd been giving him the come-on.
One and two sounded plausible, seeing as how Carol Bartlett was such a moody, miserable, unpredictable, vindictive cow, at least as far as Izzy was concerned, but option three, now that was interesting. If she was indeed up for a little ugly-bumping with Ollie, then that opened up all kinds of blackmail opportunities for Izzy.
It also jibed nicely with the scenario she'd already cooked-up with her brother. If Carol was up for it, and, after this morning's little performance it seemed like Miss Barkis was indeed willing, then Ollie could give her what she wanted, paste a permanent smile on her bitch face, and then they could take a few candid shots to blackmail the bitch.
Possibilities abounded. She could threaten to post the pictures all over the i
nternet, or maybe offer to open a website or two on some foreign server outside the law's jurisdiction with their naked mother as the star; there were so many other possible scenarios. Whatever it took to get her off Izzy's back and keep her trap shut when Izzy fucked her brother's cock raw, which she had every intention of doing as often as possible, just as soon as possible.
*
Meanwhile, Ollie was already home, having had an unexpected half-day due to a lecturer calling in sick, so Carol had been pleasantly surprised when he'd breezed in before lunch and headed for his room; the images from earlier that morning had been preying on his mind, and he needed to relieve the pressure, regardless of the fact he'd fucked his sister like a sex-starved circus chimp the previous night.
Unfortunately, some needs can't be quelled by taking a cold shower and a couple of laps around the running-track, so he'd come home eager to relive that morning's floorshow, with maybe a little visual stimulation from his 'hot mom' porn collection.
Carol smiled to herself as he bounded up the stairs, knowing full well why he was in such a rush to lock himself in his room. However, today it wasn't going to happen. She needed him simmering and ready to burst all day so he'd be easy to overwhelm when she finally offered him a deal she knew he couldn't possibly refuse. With that in mind, she tip-toed upstairs as soon as she heard his door click shut and stood outside his room, listening for any clues that he was indeed choking his chicken, which was a distinct possibility, given the strained expression on his face when he'd charged in the front door. She grinned to herself, mentally counting-down.
"Three...two...one...OLLIE!" she yelled, hearing the thud as he fell off his bed and the kerfuffle as he struggled to get his pants back on. At least, that was what she surmised, which showed she had some insight into post-teen young men, because that was exactly what he was doing.
