Something weird happened when I posted this story a couple days ago and it didn't show up properly so I'm posting it again. Hopefully it works this time.
I hung up the phone with Irving Clement, a local Real Estate Agent. He’s one of those guys you see on bus benches offering to sell your house in thirty days. Working with him gave me a lot of uncomfortable feelings but I was kind of stuck with him. I was trying to sell my house. Both Chorale and I were out of money. Her job was not enough to cover my mortgage and all the bills and my savings had already run completely out. Clement seemed the best chance to sell such a big house in the time frame we wanted. I suspected that by the end of it we will get significantly less that we hoped for.
There was another problem, Camara, my ex wife, had learned through a mutual friend that I was trying to sell the house and wanted some part of it. She had her Lawyer call a few days before and remind me that our divorce agreement had certain requirements regarding the house we had originally bought together. When she left me I had not been able to buy her half out and I had been getting steadily poorer ever since. I was in less of a position than ever to do so.
I had already sold my Audi for a measly nine grand. This is because it wasn’t running and the buyer had to hire a flatbed tow truck to come pick it up. I had damaged the ball joint a few months before and then couldn’t afford to fix it. Another month of driving it through the Oakland hills without addressing it, had worn it down to a nub and it jumped off one day as I left my driveway. I ended up parking it on the street until it was covered in a layer of pine needles. Not the best way to sell an expensive sports car.
What I made from it went directly to paying back bills and mortgage save about a thousand bucks. Chorale and I pooled our money and bought a used Dodge Neon in a heinous teal and a host of problems including the total lack of a radio, just a gaping hole in the dashboard.
I recognized there was something self destructive about my choices the last few years but I couldn’t figure out how to stop it. Ever since Camara left I had been puttering around while I let everything fall apart. Now I was happy again but all those choices had a certain momentum associated with them that felt insurmountable. I was still trying to steer the Titanic but I had already struck several ice burgs. It didn’t feel like I could pull it out of the death spiral. The whole thing was sinking fast and it seemed my panic was always just waiting to swallow me.
Outside, in the garden, I saw Chorale working on prepping the yard for winter. She had turned what used to be a bland rock and succulent garden into a vibrant place, full of food. She was now turning the remnants of snap pea vines under, into the soil, making nutrients for the next season. She was wearing a windbreaker and ball cap in the late fall chill but also a mesmerizing pair of yoga pants which made me want to go outside and molest her.
Chorale was the best thing to happen to me in years. I stepped out through the sliding door and came up behind her, circling my arms around her waist and kissing her neck. She was the best thing but I also had to wonder if she was part of my self destruction. She was wonderful and made everything in my life better and I couldn’t imagine living without her but she was also my sister and we were sleeping together and a growing number of our friends were beginning to suspect our relationship.
“Hey sweetie”, Chorale said. She reached back and put her fingers on my neck as I kissed hers. The hairs stood up and tingled.
“This house is going to be sold soon. Are you sure you want to put all this effort into the garden, Music?”
“I like it. It’ll also make it more appealing to a buyer.”
“If you’re out here, in those pants, it will.” I said and my groin bumped against her behind, my hands on her ribcage, just below her breasts. The panic drained away. The uncertainly of working with a slimy realtor and the nagging worry presented by friends sporting quizzical expressions at parties; they all drifted away as my hands drifted upward.
“You should unzip my jacket.” She said and I did.
My sister Chorale was the most amazing woman. Often pragmatic and forward and self possessed, she could come across to strangers as cool or imposing but she was also, oh so sexy. Daring and provocative, she seemed always ready to imbibe the moment and become drunk on adventure. The extent to which she has bettered my life in the last year can only be matched by the level of chaos and uncertainty that has come with it.
She turned around and kissed me, putting her hands on my face and bringing me in, my hands inside her jacket, circling her waist, noticing the warmth of her body, feeling the secret privilege of being inside her clothes. Her kisses always came as a little surprising. Growing up, fooling around, kissing was one of the few places we never trespassed. There was an unspoken agreement that kissing was what made what we were doing incest. Kissing, even more than than the feeling of my penis sliding into her soft, warm vagina was dangerous and forbidden. Even today, I seldom initiated a kiss with her, seeking the permission of my older sister to breach our most sacred taboo.
Her kisses always electrified me as well. Every one of them an event that made my heart race and my palms sweat. Her lips on mine turned me twelve again, stunned by the sensation of their softness and texture. I was as in-the-moment during our kisses as it was ever possible for me to be, my entire awareness centered on our mouths and my breathing and the closeness of her to me. Of all the things we had done with one another there was also nothing more guaranteed to give me a sudden and fierce erection than, what is arguably, the most intimate act.
Chorale cupped my erection through my pants and I pressed myself against her palm. Never breaking the kiss she worked on unbuttoning my trousers and I pulled her top up exposing her waist. Both of us breathing raggedly and fumbling quickly, she held my naked cock in both her hands while I filled mine with her wonderful ass in those tantalizing pants. She pressed the head of my penis into the cleft of her vulva and ground against it and the wetness from both my penis and her cunt quickly wet the jersey fabric separating us.
She broke our kiss to drop to her knees and feed my cock into her wet mouth. With no build up at all she was gripping my behind and pistoning my penis in and out of her mouth vigorously before pulling on my ass to push my cock down her throat.
I grunted and yelled and felt my knees weaken. The sudden passion and ferocity made me putty. The clamping of her throat brought me close to orgasm more quickly than I had been in years. I had to put my hands on her shoulders and push her away or I would have cum right then. I sat down heavily on the garden bench and her mouth was on me again in an instant, her arms circling my waist, her tongue everywhere at once.
“Oh God, slow down, please. You’re going to kill me!” I found myself saying. She was chewing lightly on the head of my cock and I could feel my balls clenching. I didn’t think I could stop myself from cumming. I was right on the edge when she pressed her face down on my penis again, sliding my entire shaft down her throat but then just holding it there. We both froze and I gripped the handrails on either side of the bench. I could feel air rush out from her nostrils and tickle my pubic hair as I struggled to hold back. Even the slightest movement of her tongue would have broken the dam, she didn’t even clench her throat for ten, twenty, then thirty seconds as I felt the pressure teeter on the edge.
What I had then was like an orgasm without ejaculating. My whole body was cold fire and I couldn’t even breath. Even as I felt my balls relax and the near ejaculation pass, a warmth spread from my groin to my extremities followed by an intense shiver. I felt like every involuntary muscle was, in that moment, under my control and I felt my heart rate drop to zero, my lungs cease their need for air and my vision turn white. For an indefinable moment my entire being was in stasis and my head totally clear. I could only hear the sound of distant waves and I felt weightless.
Coming back was a slow and surreptitious return to the normal flow of time. I felt like a firework that had exploded and I was now the dwindling sparks of light falling to earth, winking out one at a time, glittering into nothing. Sensation came back one portion at a time. I became aware of my hands first, gripping the cold iron bench rails and the wooden slats under my butt. My breathing restarted and my heart slowly returned to thudding in my chest. I could feel that it was cold out and my muscles slowly relaxed, starting with my fingers and toes and moving inward. At last I became aware of my penis again, still hard and still buried to the hilt in my sister’s mouth. She drew her mouth off and my penis steamed in the cool air. We both looked at it, amazed by the wisps of fog coming off of it.
“Whoa,” I said. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know. It was like you came but you didn’t cum.”
“I think I did, I just didn’t. Fuck. That was amazing.” I was out of breath.
Chorale pushed her yoga pants down and climbed slowly up onto the bench, her knees on either side of me. I shifted my butt so the pulsing head of my penis touched the opening to her vagina. She kissed me again and slowly sank down onto it just as it started raining. She lifted and lowered her ass and held my forehead against hers. We stared into each other eyes under a tent of her hair as we felt droplets of water all over our heated bodies. Goosebumps erupted on our skin and my penis, harder than ever slid frictionlessly into her hot and amazingly wet sex.
“I want you to cum in my pussy, Jasper. Come inside me.”
The rain increased and soon our half shed clothes were drenched and our hot bodies were slick with sweat and rain. Her nipples were as hard as wooden beads and water dripped off their tips. I lifted my ass from the bench and pounded my cock into her and took a drink from her breasts. Soon her hair was matted and sticking to her face and the California rain became a downpour. Her wet and slippery pussy made squishing noises as we slapped against one another, picking up our pace.
“I’m cumming,” she breathed and then repeated as she thudded her pelvis against mine. She rode me like a horse and I held onto her as she thrashed through her orgasm. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” she chanted.
I pounded faster and we removed the last of our clothes like maniacs, tossing them all over the yard until we were both completely naked and drenched. The bench bounded and rocked alarmingly on it’s four bricks. Pools of water would form between our bodies and then be destroyed in a splash as we collided together. Her ass was almost too slippery for me to maintain a hold on and she hugged me close, pressing my face between her pillowy wet tits.
When I came that time it was of the kind I was used to. Her wet pelvis slapping against mine, I felt it come and thrust upward, into her, the bench teetering on two legs. In that moment her entire body was suspended on mine and we must have looked like a gymnastic act, her body, perched atop mine and my arms, rigidly holding the armrests of the balanced bench with my pelvis thrust high in the air and only my heels touching the ground. My balls emptied into her womb and we collapsed in a heap, the bench, miraculously not breaking apart or toppling over backward.
A moment later we were dashing into the house, laughing and giddy, grabbing our soaked clothes as we went and making a wet pile on the floor inside the sliding doors.
After a sensual shower together and a change into bathrobes, we were snuggled up on the couch watching TV. I was laying with my back against the couch back, full length and she was spooned in front of me, my arm around her with my hand nestled comfortably between her large breasts. This was absolutely the as real as any love I had ever imagined with my ex wife or any other woman I had ever loved. I felt for the thousandth time, there was no way this could be wrong. It felt too good.
Before long my robe was open and hers had ridden up and my hardening penis was nestled in the cleft of her ass. For some reason, whenever I was touching her, it wasn’t long before I was trying to get my cock inside her. As we ostensibly watched the program, she reached back to stroke me and then placed the head against her vagina and enveloped my penis in her moistness. She was very wet and she rubbed my cock on her lips until it was good and slick before placing the head against her anus and pushing back against me. We casually watched TV for the next half hour as though it were perfectly normal for my cock to be imbedded in her ass while we lounged on the couch.
We were just settling into a nice rhythm when my cell phone rang. I tried to ignore it and let it go to voicemail, The thought of leaving the warmth of Chorale’s body was not at all appealing but a nagging suspicion made me finally pull out and run over to pick it up.
“Hello?” I asked. I grabbed a paper towel off the kitchen counter and began cleaning my pulsing penis.
“Are you sleeping with my wife?”
“”What?” I couldn’t place the voice at first.
“Are you fucking my wife?” Gavin asked, angry. “Are you fucking your sister you fucking hillbilly?”
“Gavin, calm down.”
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down you sister-humping, corn-pone son of a bitch. What’re you from, Arkansas? You hick, family fucker! Dirty fucking incest loving, inbred asshole.” He sputtered.
Chorale had left Gavin nearly eleven months earlier to come live with me. I had always known him to be a fairly kind man, though morose. He had been deeply depressed for years when Chorale finally gave up and moved out to recover her own life. Six months earlier she had submitted papers for a divorce. We hadn’t gotten word if Gavin had responded. There had been a well of silence from his end. Now, out of nowhere this angry phone call. Angrier than I had ever heard him. He was hitting me close to home too. I felt my mouth dry and my gut drop. My fingers under the phone where sweating.
“Gavin.” My throat clicked. My heart began racing. “What are you talking about?” I sounded like a lier to my own ears.
“You disgusting fucker.” Gavin’s voice was low and threatening. A second later my phone beeped and I looked at it. A picture message had just arrived in my inbox. I opened it and saw a picture of Chorale, naked and slick with rain, sitting on my lap on the garden bench. The picture couldn’t have been more than an hour old. Another beep and, with numb fingers I opened that one. I was more dressed in that one and Chorale was on her knees, sucking me. The rain hadn’t started. The angle was high and the corner of the roof of my house was visible in the frame. It had been taken from inside the tree line above my property.
“Gavin, I don’t know where you got these…” I stopped, my throat dry and working. I didn’t know what to say, my brain was wiped blank. I tried to think of the name of the program people used to alter images on the internet. I wanted to tell him it was photoshopped but I didn’t even know if what I was looking at was possible to make in Photoshop. A third beep and I looked at my phone, another picture. This one was Chorale and I kissing. It was from farther away and higher. Out of context it was beautiful. The shot was framed perfectly and the light was wonderful. In another world I would have put it in a frame and had it on my desk. Looking at it made my voice dry up entirely as all the terrible possibilities came rushing at me.
A roar came through the line, Gavin had shouted something so loud that the microphone on his end had distorted it unrecognizably. Never the less I knew what he was saying. That was a roar of complete desolate agony and the most violent rage rolled together. It was a sound of a wounded bear. I looked up and saw Chorale a few feet away, her eyes huge.
“He caught you.” Gavin was saying, choked up. “He got you this time you fucker.” Gavin was breathing hard into the phone. His voice sounded ragged. “He sent me the pictures. He fucking got you, you sister-fucking shit head. You nasty, hick creep, bastard. Fucking caught you,” and then he shouted, “In... The Fucking Act!” He was now panting into the phone. I could tell by my sister’s face that she heard it.
“Gavin, I…” I couldn’t find anything to say. I didn’t even know his intentions and I couldn’t find words to justify mine. I felt like apologizing but I couldn’t even say for what exactly. She was mine first, crossed my mind. A horrible, petty thing to say but it felt righteous in my mind. Complete denials were still trying to come out as well. I wanted time to rewind ten minutes and to have never picked up the phone. Finally I just said, in as calm a voice as I could, “It just is what it is.”
“No! No! It’s not. It’s gonna get a lot worse unless you give me back my wife. Chorale’s gonna come home or you’re gonna find out how bad it will get. Everyone’s gonna hear about this, you disgusting pig. You corrupt son of a bitch. Think you’re gonna be able to sell that house? Huh? Think you’ll ever get a job again? Fucker! If Chorale doesn’t come home now, I’m gonna fucking ruin you, asshole. I’m gonna fucking bury you!”
I couldn’t think what to say and I knew I had about a second to keep Gavin on the phone. I knew he was just about to hang up but nothing was coming to mind. Suddenly Chorale grabbed the phone from my hand.
“I’m NOT coming back, Gavin. I AM home. You don’t own me.” And then she hung up instead.
We talked about it for hours afterward, shaking, trying to come to grips with what had happened and trying to strategize how to respond. We pieced together that Gavin must have hired a private investigator and that he must have been outside on the hillside when he photographed us. The pictures had obviously been taken with a cell phone camera and there was not going to be any way of getting them all back, even if we could convince Gavin to destroy his. Who knows how many others he had texted out. I dressed and clambered up the hillside finding what I expected. Boot prints and cigarette butts and paper coffee cups. It was clear the photographer had been there multiple times over several weeks.
Alone on the hillside I felt a strange disconnection from reality. I could understand how Gavin felt. His wife had cheated on him and left. Camara had cheated on me and left. I had imagined all kinds of revenge scenarios when it had happened. Ways to ruin her and her lover. Gavin had the persistence to carry them out in a way I hadn’t. I felt stupid for not seeing it coming. Not being more careful. I had thought Gavin would just let her go and fade away, never to be heard from or thought of again. I guess, like I had for Camara.
That night we lay in our shared bed, worrying. There didn’t seem to be much we could do but wait to see what happened. I caressed Chorale’s naked shoulder and kissed it, taking comfort in her warm skin.
“Do you want to stop?” She asked.
“Do you want to stop making love to me?” She was facing away from me but I could tell she was hurting. Her voice was constricted and she was tense.
I brought my arm around her and cupped her breast, snuggling in close until my penis was pressing into her behind. “No way, Songbird. I love you.” And despite my fear and worry, my penis began to stiffen against her. “Do you?” I asked after a moment.
“No. I want you to fuck me right now. I don’t want that damn phone call to mess this up for us. I love you too.”
She rolled onto her back and looked me in the eyes. I slowly climbed on top of her and kissed her firm on the mouth, my penis finding her puffy slit easily. She had shaved again and her vulva was smooth under my manhood. I could feel the pulse of her heartbeat in her hot opening. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and my penis slid into her until our pubic bones touched. She was hot and secret and wonderful inside. Our hips rolled and we made slow passionate love with long deliberate strokes. As I got near cumming she moved her hands to my ass and gripped my cheeks, pulling me into her over and over. Her legs were folded up and her heels pressed against the small of my back. My cock sank deep with every thrust. Her hot, welcoming pussy milked me and she whispered in my ear how she never wanted to let me go.
When it was over I lay on top of her for a long time. We both dozed and her warm pussy kept me half hard for a long time, flexing and clamping. I slept well despite the difficult day.
The next night wasn’t so easy. Gavin had sent the pictures to a fanatical church in Menlo Park, The SF weekly and Chorale’s boss. He was threatening to send them to my ex wife, Camara, whom was seeking to get as much of the house as she could. We fended off calls for much of the day. For the first time in years I closed every blind and curtain on the property. My glass house became as dark as a tomb.
One of the first calls was from a raving church goer who yelled at me over the phone until I hung up on her. The next was from the HR department of the company Chorale worked for. She was being put on administrative leave while they figured out if Gavin’s allegations were true. I wasn’t even sure that was legal but it was too late. Several small papers called asking for a comment and the surreal, TV-show phrase, “we have no comment at this time” came out of my mouth several times. I couldn’t even believe a newspaper cared. Life had descended into chaos.
Over the next couple days Chorale and I bunkered down, neither of us leaving the house. We were recommended, and then, consulted a lawyer by phone and discovered we could both be arrested and face criminal penalties and possibly each do jail time if convicted. Our only saving grace was, that for the moment, no one had filed charges. Either Gavin or Camara or our mom or the State had the ability to do that if they wanted to. Police could show up at our door at any time. Our father had died several years earlier and I was thankful he hadn’t lived to see. We didn’t call our mom and we didn’t hear from her. We hoped that she was still unaware of the whole situation.
Friends called. At first I would answer the phone and tap-dance around the allegation. The word was getting around fast. Eventually I stopped answering the phone entirely. Occasionally reporters showed up on the doorstep and we ignored their knocking. The newspapers didn’t end up printing anything that week about it but blog entries showed up and a couple letters to the editor. Fortunately our last names were kept out of it until there was an official charge against us. I continued to be astounded that there was anything newsworthy in us. Why did anyone care so much?
Clement called and said he couldn’t sell the house. A buyer had backed out the day after our address was leaked by a blogger. We turned to the new community we had become a part of online.
The day after we got back from our cruise we had searched for support groups and forums online, trying to find others like us. Those forums became our lifelines after Gavin revealed our secret. We had collected friends in Manchester, Queensland, Montenegro, Alberta, Montana and San Diego. The San Diego couple had given us the name of the lawyer. These online friends, whom we only knew by handles and avatars, became very important to us. They gave us advice, supported us, comforted us and gave us hope. It’s impossible to thank them enough. One couple in particular who both used the same handle, SahDray, and had an avatar of a white tiger’s face. We exchanged posts with them several times a day.
Five days into the siege, neither of us had left the house. We hadn’t had sex since the night of Gavin’s call either. We were both so rattled to have people outside. It was easy to get a bit paranoid. There were now three members of The New Awakening Followers of Christ Baptist Church of Menlo Park outside holding picket signs and waving them at all the cars that drove by. One misspelled, hand lettered sign read ‘Incest is agenst God’s Plan’ which I found a little ironic given how the Bible said we originally populated the Earth. Chorale and I slept apart on the advice of the lawyer. It would be bad if someone snapped another photo of us in a compromising position.
Nearly a week in and my groin felt hot and full. My testicles were extremely tender and I was going a little stir crazy. I didn’t even masturbate that week. My house was all windows and no matter how tightly I closed every curtain it felt like a million eyes were watching us. Church crazies were walking right up to the house and peering directly in the windows and through the mail slot. We felt like we couldn’t call the cops and chase them off. We were afraid they would just come and arrest us instead of the peeping popes. I didn’t even feel comfortable hugging Chorale, much less kissing or fucking.
On day seven, Chorale and I ate breakfast together and whispered about our future. All the fresh food was gone and we were eating out of boxes and cans. Fortunately we still had rice milk for cereal. The two of us were terrorized by worry and grumpy. Not to put too fine a point on it, I was testy. Pun intended. We argued and I finished breakfast angrily, tossing my bowl carelessly in the sink where it shattered. Chorale looked at me, stunned and in a sudden flash I took her empty bowl off the counter and threw it hard into the sink as well, shattering it. With a caveman bellow, I stormed off toward the bathroom and slammed the door behind me.
I tore off all my clothes. I wanted to punch my own face in the mirror but refrained. I ended up twisting up my T-shirt and biting down on it and growling into it like a dog. I felt like yelling and crying at the same time. Just when I brought myself under control I looked at the floor to ceiling window and saw a through a crack in the blinds the shrubs outside moving. The glass was pebbled but it still made me feel like someone in a reality TV show, where my every move was being watched. Before I could lose it again I turned the shower on full blast on the hottest setting and stepped in, my skin reddening instantly.
Images of my sisters ass flashed in my mind. Her beautiful round buns and my hands on them. I saw the head of my cock rubbing up and down her slick crack and could almost feel the sensation of the warm flesh wrapping around my shaft. My fantasy was so vivid I could feet the texture of her skin under my palms as I imagined grabbing her hips. The sensation of her tight anus slowly opening to let me in. My balls ached and my cock felt full to bursting. My hand, covered in soap, simulated the feeling of entering her tight ass and the hot water felt like her warm insides. With my eyes closed the vision was so real and I was so full, I just needed to cum but it still wouldn’t happen. As much as I tried to ignore it, the thought of some asshole holier-than-thou wrinkled old hateful prune just outside my window prevented me.
I squeezed my eyes shut to ignore it but the vision but my beautiful sister kept being replaced by some shriveled old horse-faced woman with frazzled mouse hair wearing a hoodie and a fanny pack, holding a sign reading, ‘God doesn’t want you to love anyone but him’. Just then I heard a knocking and for a panicked instant I thought the crazy church lady in my vision was knocking on the window. I stepped out of the shower ready to bellow at whoever it was when I realized it was my sister knocking on the door. I opened it and she rushed in, grinning with a roll of duct tape and a blanket. She looked at my enormous erection and grinned wider. She pecked me on the lips and went right to holding the blanket over the window.
“Help me tape this up” She said and I did. In a matter of moments we had made the window opaque and added some sound baffling as well. “I need to suck your cock.” She said. “I’m not going to let these fuckers stop me for another minute.” She quickly shimmied out of her clothes.
“Oh fuck!” I said when her tits came out. My cock jumped. She grabbed my face and kissed me hard. My penis touched her naked belly and the warmth of foreign skin nearly made me cum right then. I could feel her hard nipples poking my chest and I put my hands on the back of her head and kissed her back. “I’m sorry I got mad, I really need-” But she broke me off with another fierce kiss. My hands were suddenly all over her body, trying to feel every part of her at once. She pressed her hips against me and crushed my cock between our bodies squeezing pre-cum onto our bellies.
She put both her hands on my cock, encircling it. “Oh, god, you are so hard, Jasper.” She dropped slowly to her knees and pressed the head of my penis against her body the whole way down, leaving a sticky trail. When she pushed her tits around it I spasmed and almost came again. She touched my balls which were full and hard. “Your balls are so tight, you really need to cum, don’t you?”
She pressed her breasts together and I swooned with the amazing feeling of her warm, soft cleavage enveloping me. She pinched her nipples and twisted them, moaning. Every second I was so close to cumming I didn’t know if I could continue to stand. I felt like I would faint at any moment. Then she put her tongue in my peehole. Before I could adjust she was ravaging my cock, pressing it against her cheeks and lips. She smeared pre-cum all around her face and neck and licked the shaft.
“Cum on me Jasper. Your balls are so full, cover me in your cum.” She jerked my cock several times and I was vibrating all over, my heart racing. “Let it out sweetie, shoot your cum all over my face and titties. Pour it all over me.”
When I came it blasted out. It was not like any orgasm I had ever had. The pressure was so intense I could feel friction in my urethra. I was in pain as well as pleasure, my balls cramping and my cock burning as it jetted out like a fire hose.
And it didn’t seem to stop. The first gout splashed across Chorale’s cheeks and cascaded down her neck. Mouth open and eyes squeezed shut she pointed it upwards and it blasted her nose and forehead and eyes. She pressed it against her cheek bone and it sprayed in a fan, filling her eyebrows and leaping into her hair. My cock spasmed again and she pointed it at her mouth, filling the back of her throat in a steady stream until her whole mouth seemed to be a pool of white. She closed it and cum poured over her lips and chin like a waterfall onto her tits. She kept jerking me and milking my cock, sending the remaining few squirts into her cleavage. I staggered back against the door and she writhed, rubbing my cum all over her tits. I had never seen anyone so completely covered in it. It was certainly the largest load that had ever come out of me. I watched with my mouth hanging open as she bathed in it, pushing it all over her body, laying on her back moaning with eyes closed.
It wasn’t over. She lay with her legs spread open and eyes shut, both her hands covered in cum, she masturbated furiously on the floor before me, pushing three fingers into her cunt and twisting her titty. I could hear the sounds of my sticky cum and her juicy pussy on her tits and fingers. She bounced her hips up off the tile floor and shoved a fourth finger inside, jamming them hard and fast and then moving her other hand to rub circles on her clit. A rumbling growl began in her belly and came out of her mouth in a keening wail Suddenly my legs were splashed along with the bathroom door behind me as a geyser shot our of her pussy. She removed her hands and spread her pussy lips and a second one arched upward and hit me in the belly and crotch. I dropped to my knees and caught a third splash in the face and chest.
The bathroom was a wreck. Filled with steam from my shower and the entire floor covered with our cum. Both of us drenched and panting. Chorale wiped away the cum from her eyes and looked at me, grinning. She glanced down at my cock which was still hard and she stretched out her arms in a hug gesture, showing me all teeth. I lay down on top of her and our bodies made wet, farting sounds as we squished together. My cock found her wide open pussy easily and I slid inside her. We kissed, tasting each other’s cum and made messy, sticky, slippery, horny love on the bathroom floor, slapping together and sliding around on the wet tiles. I came inside her in what felt like a more normal orgasm for me.
We showered and it was magic. This had been such a tough week for us. We were frazzled and frustrated and worried and scared. We hadn’t been able to touch or hold one another and that had hurt us both. We reconnected. Washing each other and exploring the other’s body again. We talked and whispered sweet things and kissed happily. It was going to be okay we told one another. We hoped it was true.
My earlier fantasy came to fruition as I soaped up her amazing ass and brought her close. Cupping her tits my cock found her slick ass crack and became quickly hard again. She braced against the shower wall and pushed her butt back against me, my cock entering her slowly. It was so much better than my fantasy as my dick slid home in her ass. That feeling of two puzzle pieces that fit together so well came to me as her butt cheeks nestled in the hollow of my pelvis.
Her anus squeezed me and I was tickled by the water running off her pussy and leaping to my balls. Her warm heavy breasts felt so good in my hands but I left then to fondle between her legs. With two of my fingers inside her I could feel my cock moving in and out of her through wall that separated her two holes. Gently pinching her clit between fingers I jacked her off like a little cock as I pushed my cock in and out of her ass. As usual her reaction to anal sex was lusty and guttural. Though we came more sedately then our earlier orgasms. It was just so nice being inside her I never wanted to leave. We stood with my cock in her ass for a long time after.
The next day a solution arrived. Oddly, it was presented by my ex wife, Camara. It had been almost six years since she had cheated on me and then left. During that time I had not spoken to her even once. It was only because I wanted to sell the house that she appeared in my life again. Her lawyer presented the option to me over the phone and, even though it was really just her greed and, I thought, an incomprehensible need to keep twisting the a knife--it really was the best option. Camara and her new husband would buy out my half of the house. What happened to it after that, I would have no idea but it made sense to me to just let her have it.
The amount offered was pitiful, even compared to what I would be getting if Clement sold the house. Not only that, the price would include most of the furniture and artwork that we had bought together. I had sold a couple of small statues and a painting of a small fruit bowl already to pay bills and mortgage. Everything that was left was large enough to need an art buyer or was really only worthy of Goodwill. All of the antique chinese cabinets and roman legionnaires chairs would stay with the house. As I started going through it all, I couldn’t believe I had not just sold most of this stuff on Ebay. I felt like such an idiot. I really could have made more of an effort to keep my head above water. For whatever reason I still had thousands of dollars worth of cookware and silverware and small appliances in the kitchen.
During the settlement I never had to actually see or talk to Camara. We did it all through lawyers. When movers and lawyers and inspectors arrived they all gave us odd or disgusted looks after they were harangued by the Church people. In the wider world the story seemed to fade in interest. Cops never arrived on our doorstep but Chorale was fired from her job. We talked to the lawyer about it but he advised us not to open the can of worms further. It seemed terribly unfair.
When a down payment check arrived two weeks after settling with Camara it was gone immediately to pay back bills but it got my credit back in order. Chorale and I took a trip together in our beat up Dodge Neon down to Hayward. We pushed our way past shouting Church crazies whom had all but given up the siege and were suddenly riled by our appearance. As we peeled out of the driveway, I yelled, “We approve of Gay Marriage too!” Just to get them angry. I wondered if there would ever be a movement for siblings to marry or if we were too fringe and too small a number to ever gain such a right for ourselves. Chorale drove and played with my penis as we grinned at one another. The car was an automatic but she played with me like a stick-shift.
We arrived at an RV sales lot and left five hours later with a twenty-seven foot Bounder and a car trailer. Chorale drove the Neon ahead and scoped out our house. The Churchies were still there and so we parked the Bounder a half mile away and returned home in the Neon together.
We had become night owls and slept during the day during the long siege. That helped us now as we packed our belongings in the Neon and ferried them to the Bounder. The New Awakening people didn’t stay over night and we felt like thieves or refugees delivering our possessions in the dead of night.
We had only one night left in the house I had lived in for fifteen years. And I was melancholy. Though I had really not been living at all for the five years after Camara left, the last year had been the happiest of my life. I wandered the house, looking in all the quiet rooms and fondling the remaining statues. Watering the houseplants for the last time. Chorale drew a bath and I sat on the edge of the tub, talking with her about our planned adventures together.
She looked so enticing there, her bobbing breasts partly obscured by bubbles and warm steam making the room feel soft. Our blanket over the window had been replaced by a more permanent solution. We had taken the curtains out of the guest bedroom and hung three, one over the other over the other, to cover the window. Not a scrap of light could leak out. I caressed her calf and foot which floated near me. Soon it was her inner thigh and then her pussy. We gazed at one another, enjoying the pleasant anticipation as I lazily fingered her. She spread her legs wide and invited me to do more.
“So, where do you want to go first?”
“Oregon,” I answered. “For some reason I’ve always wanted to see Portland. Maybe Seattle too. What about you?”
“Portland sounds fine. Maybe we can stop and ski when we get there. I haven’t seen snow in years.” She paused, sighing, as I rubbed up and down the opening to her pussy, “It’s like we’re retiring. I never thought it would be this early.”
“A couple of young retirees living on the road. I wonder how we’ll fit in with the Wilford Brimleys.”
I wondered privately if we were going to be accepted. Being on the road meant we would be meeting new people constantly but we might not be able to have any real close friends. That spy game we had played on the cruise ship wasn’t as fun now that we had endured some of the actual consequences. I thought about all the friends we had just lost. Practically every one we knew in the last month. There would be more as word got around.
I stopped myself. I didn’t want to get morose. The most beautiful woman alive and my best friend was going with me. She was family, friend and lover all wrapped up in one. I poured more of the bubble bath in and refreshed the hot water. Kneeling on the floor I caressed her tummy and thighs and rubbed small circles around her clit. As Chorale lay back and relaxed I slipped a finger inside her while she circulated the warm water. She responded with a smile and I added a second finger, pressing my palm against her pubic mound.
“You can do more.” She said, smiling, her eyes closed. And I added a third.
She was slowly gyrating her hips in the water and I could feel how relaxed her pussy was and the bubble bath had made her skin soft and supple. I explored the roof of her vagina with my finger tips, playing an up-side-down piano and petting the ridged walls. I added my pinky finger and she grabbed the edges of the tub, pushing her body toward my hand. I rotated my hand slowly and rubbed her clit with my thumb.
“Yes. That feels good. Jasper, I want you to go all the way. I want you to fist me.”
I flexed my fingers inside, stretching her and tucked my thumb. With my other hand I played with her nipples. I rotated my hand left and right with my knuckles bunched just outside her opening. She grabbed my wrist and pulled on it, bobbing her hips in the water slowly. Her vagina slowly opened around my hand and, after a bit, welcomed it in. I closed my fingers into a fist and paused there, feeling the pressure all around my hand. Feeling the texture of her insides.
“You did it.” She said opening her eyes. “You’re inside me.” She was grinning. “It feels really good. Try moving it around a little.”
I did. I was in awe. I felt like I was walking on the moon. I could feel her cervix with the knuckle of my index finger. I traced the donut shaped entrance to her womb. The knuckle of my thumb was pressing against the roof of her vagina, right under the pubic bone. When I rolled it she responded immediately. I pushed the hardest part of my knuckle against her G-spot and she bucked in the tub, sloshing water.
“More of that.” She commanded and I followed her direction.
Soon I was pushing down on her mound and lifting up with my fist as her hand on my wrist encouraged me to go faster and harder. Water was splashing out of the tub in sheets as she lifted her hips and bounced her butt back down in the water. Every muscle in her body looked tense and she grabbed my wrist with both hands, using my fist like a dildo to pound it into her. I sped up my pace, pistoning my fist in and out as fast as I could while she writhed on the end of my arm.
Nearly all of the water was ejected from the tub during her orgasm which was long and violent. I held onto her, afraid she would bang herself up on the hard porcelain. I put my hand on the back of her head and let her ride it out. She finally collapsed back down onto the tub floor looking completely exhausted. Neither of us moved. She looked like a fish on the deck of a boat, panting for air.
“Wow.” She breathed. I echoed her. “That was amazing.” She said and I echoed her again.
When I removed my hand I had to do it extremely carefully. She was so sensitive that she would jump if I moved to fast. After it was out, I massaged her opening gently while she appeared to go to sleep right there in the tub. Later, I toweled her off and brought her with me to bed. I stayed up a while to mop the floor and tidy up before leaving in the morning and then lay down beside her sleeping form. She snuggled against me and purred like a cat.
The next morning we left before the sun came up, sneaking out of my house before the New Awakening people were awake. We attached the Neon to the trailer hitch and climbed into our new home, belted in and started it up. We crossed the Bay bridge as the sun rose and got on the 101 headed North along the coast. It was the last time I saw Oakland and when we crossed the Oregon border, moving inland on the 199, we left California behind forever as well.
Near Eugene we stopped at a rest stop and opened my laptop because they advertised wi-fi. Our story had died down over the previous two weeks but had flared up again with our sudden departure. A blog about Bay Area crime said that we were wanted for questioning by the police. Another blog picked up on it and called us “fugitive prurients”. The church website said we were, “fleeing to maintain their sin and trying to escap God’s anger.” The typo is theirs not mine. Gavin had been talking with them and they posted an interview. It was clear they were trying to convert him and he seemed like he needed something. Marriage made in heaven.
We reached out to our new community in the forums. SahDray had several posts for us congratulating us on getting away and finding a path to freedom. We posted about the police blotter after we found it was serious. The police really were seeking us for questioning. Our new elation was now mixed with more fear. We asked for help and advice.
We tested out the queen sized bed in the back while we were stopped. I know I needed the comfort of having my sister close to me and I felt her need as well. We lay kissing and fondling, naked in our new “Captain’s Quarters” which was etched into a fake bronze plaque on the headboard. She kissed my cheek.
“I want you to do something.” Chorale said. Her face neotenic.
“What?” I asked, trying to puzzle out what she was going to ask.
She blushed ferociously and her hair fell in front of her eyes so all I could see was her hot red cheeks and suppressed grin. “um,” She put her hands over her eyes.
“What?” I asked again, laughing now and her unusual shyness.
She pulled all her hair forward and covered her entire face with it. She was giggling. “Um,” She said again. “I’m such a fucking perv. Oh my god I’m a perv.”
I pulled one of her hands away and brushed back the hair. “What is it? I will do ANYthing, you know that. I’m just as pervvy as you are.”
She still didn’t look at me but continued, “I. I get off on the… Such a perv. I get off on the fact that you’re my brother.” I grinned at her hugely. “I want you to fuck me and talk dirty while you do it. Call me ‘Sister’.” She keened and pulled all her hair back in front of her face, cringing in embarrassment at her admission.
I laughed, “is that all? Of course, Dear Sister. What would you like your little brother to do?” I said in my seductive voice, “would you like your brother’s cock to slide slowly into your wet pussy, Sis? Huh? Do you want your brother’s teeth nibbling on your nipples? Tell me how I can please you, Sister.” My seductive voice developed a spanish accent. I kissed her earlobe and licked around the edge. “What part of fucking your brother do you like best?” I asked in a low voice as I stripped down.
“Oh…” She breathed as I kissed down her neck on my way to her nipples. “Lick my pussy, little brother. Lick your big sister’s pussy.”
I helped her undress as well. I moved south and began teasing around her opening just when her cell phone rang. We both froze.
“Oh fuck!” She said. We looked at one another and then she got up to look. It could have been Gavin or our lawyer or a police detective for all we knew. It wasn’t. It was karen. “Um, Hi Karen.” She answered after letting it ring four times. “Um. Yeah. Yes. It’s true. No. Well, yeah. Look, it’s complicated. Uh, huh. Yeah…”
I slid out of bed and joined my sister in the kitchen area, hugging her gently from behind. “Karen from the cruise?” I asked quietly and she nodded.
“Hey karen? I’m gonna put you on speaker, Okay? Jasper’s right here.”
“Hey Karen. What’s going on?” I said.
“Hi Jasper, I was just telling Chorale that I was calling because I was concerned. I mean, there was an article about you two fleeing your home and there were protestors outside and the police were looking for you two. Also that I heard someone figured out you we on the cruise and the radio station has been forced to comment on it. They apparently played the clip of your call on morning radio today. It’s on the twitters.”
I had a twitter account which I had never used. I think I signed up for it once to be allowed to comment on some engineering article I once read. I wondered if that’s what she was talking about. Were people commenting on my twitter account? What did that entail? I wondered what to say to karen. I hadn’t seen her much since the cruise. She had come over for dinner once. Chorale had spent some time out with her. I think they had done lunch four or five times. I’d talked to karen on the phone with Chorale a few times before. I didn’t feel like we knew her very well and yet she was one of the few acquaintances we had who was in on our secret.
“Karen. I appreciate you telling us that.” What do you want?
, I thought.
“Look, Jasper, I’m not trying to be a butt-inski, I’m just concerned. I think maybe you should turn yourselves in or something. Chorale, this could get worse.”
“Karen,” Chorale said, “I don’t see how turning ourselves in is going to make it better. I mean, what are you suggesting? We both go to jail?”
“No, no, no. You don’t have to go to jail. Neither of you need to go to jail. I’m just saying, talk about it, clear things up. Tell people it’s a misunderstanding and it only happened once or something. You can probably go back to living normal lives.”
I was angry at this notion and wanted to hang up immediately but Chorale held up her hand and said, “Karen, You want us to go date other people? Is that even reasonable? Jasper is who I love. I’m not abandoning that so that everyone can stop having squidgy feelings and everybody elses lives can return to normal except for me and Jasper. That’s not a choice for us.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just thought maybe you could calm things down a bit-” My sister picked up the phone and turned off speaker. I had turned and walked to the messy bed, staring at it. Chorale kept talking for another ten minutes, arguing with Karen until I sat down, naked on the bed, and sulked.
The conversation got a lot less tense after a while. Chorale seemed to be convincing Karen or at least Karen was no longer trying to get us to give up. Chorale caught my eye. She was sitting on the lone barstool now, naked as well. She unfolded her legs and grinned slyly at me, beckoning me with a crooked finger. She was listening to Karen’s argument but didn’t appear to be focus on it. She reached out and caressed my stubbly face, made a licking gesture and grinned wider with an arched eyebrow.
With a light pressure on my shoulder she coaxed me down to my knees as she opened her legs wide. “Karen,” She said, “We’re not having children. I can’t even have children, I don’t understand what’s wrong-” I licked her inner thigh and nuzzled my nose lightly in the small patch of new pubic hair on her mound. She listened for a while as I massaged her ankles and calves and thighs, working them around to her butt. I breathed hot breath onto her sex and she scooted her butt forward on the stool, seeking my mouth.
“Why would that matter? We sold the house. We live on the road now. We have everything we need-” I licked slowly the ruffled outer lips with the barest tip of my tongue.
“We’re both happier than we ever have been! Karen, would you give that up? If you were in our shoes-” I licked in small circles around her hole as she rolled her hips back and fondled the back of my head.
“Jasper has more money coming from the house. I can get jobs along the way. We’re not going to starve-” When my lips finally touched her clit, she rolled her hips in circles, humping my face. She pulled on the back of my head with urgency, now, demanding my mouth. I pushed my tongue inside her and licked her inner walls around in larger circles, getting as deep as I could go. I sucked her mound against my upper lip and cupped my tongue on the roof of her vagina, trying to get all of her mound in my mouth, sucking it all at once. She listened to karen and murmured ascent to what she was saying but, glancing up, I could see her eyes roll back. She jammed the phone into the crook of her neck so she could put both hands on my head. Rocking her hips faster and faster against my face as I licked faster. I fluttered the tip of my tongue over her clit and inserted a finger in her pussy, pressing it against her G-spot.
“Karen,” She breathed, “I really want to thank you for your understanding. You really are supportive and I so appreciate that. I have to go now, though. Jasper is licking my pussy and I’m really fucking close to cumming.” She hung up the phone quickly without saying goodbye and slapped it on the counter. Both her hands were on me again and she was humping fast against my tongue. I flickered it as fast as I could as her juice wet my chin and dribbled down my neck. I stroked my cock rapidly and could feel my own orgasm nearing.
“Yes, little brother! Make me cum, I’m so close. Lick your big sister’s pussy. You lick me so well, baby, you’re gonna make me cum. I’m gonna cum all over my little brother’s face. Lick me baby, lick me!”
I had a second finger in her vagina and was trying to keep my strokes in and out of her moving at the same speed as the hand on my cock. I flickered my tongue and she bounced her butt on the stool, her hands roving all around my head and caressing my ears. “Lick me, lick, me, lick me!” She chanted and then her frenetic movement devolved into spasms and she howled in the small space.
I came soon after as she rode my face through her orgasm I emptied my seed on the marmoleum floor, laughing to myself. My brazen sister, fucking my face while on the phone and then telling Karen about it. We held each other, lopsidedly. Me collapsing against her belly and her folding on top of me.
“We should call more people.” She laughed. “I’m sure lots of people are worried about us.” We roared laughter and I couldn’t stop until my sides hurt. I fell over completely on my back and guffawed at every new suggestion either of us made. Calling mom was enough to make me feel like I would break a rib. Calling the radio station live was enough to get Chorale to fall off her stool. Calling the police made us laugh until we were red in the face and struggling for air.
Chorale lay on top of me on the floor as we wiped our tearing eyes. Eventually it led to kissing and that to making love. Ten feet away from a bed, we made tender, giggly love on the hard, cold floor of a camper bus. Happy. Relieved. Hopeful. In love.
After a few months on the road we came to live with Ahdray and Sahine on their property in Montana, a brother and sister couple of Indian ancestry. We parked the RV in their driveway and buy electricity and water from them. They also have a lesbian couple living in their house. Daphne and Pamela who are sisters.
I have put my engineering knowledge toward a blog on standards and practices in the field. Chorale and I run another one on sibling couples issues. Both bring in a trickle of ad revenue which gives us a tiny bit of spending money. Occasionally readers donate. We all share groceries and play board games in the evening or watch TV. We all have marvelous dinners together every night, filled with laughter and camaraderie. We are a family. We have very little but are happier and more grateful than ever. We have each other and that’s plenty.
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