Amy
This is a short story that gets down to the nitty-gritties relatively quickly, unlike my other stories that spend a bit of time developing characters and relationships. From that perspective it's not a story as one might expect, with a beginning and middle and an end. There are no details of those involved, nor much background on how they got to where they are. It's just a snapshot of a day in the lives of two siblings who are into each other.
It contains graphic descriptions of incest between Amy and her older brother, Jason. If you are offended by consensual brother-sister sex, don't bother to read it -- please move on to something more suited to your taste.
All characters are over the age of 18.
*****
My sister Amy wandered into the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. I was shaving at the sink, dressed only in my jocks, and I watched her in the mirror as she slipped in though the door and padded over to the toilet.
She hitched up her nightie and sat, and in a moment I heard the tinkle of her pee in the bowl.
I smiled. "No knickers, then?"
"What? - oh, that. I couldn't find them after you ripped them off last night. They're probably in shreds somewhere." She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
I remembered every detail of the night. How I had slipped into her room, the moonlight throwing a silver square of light over her bed, painting her skin in bright pewter as she lifted the bedclothes for me to move in beside her. The smell of her hair in the semi-darkness; the softness of her lips, the touch of her hands as they guided and pleasured me; her gasp as I entered her and the incredible heat of her body, so wet and tight. I remembered the hours of gratification, of muffled moans and stifled screams; of pumping sperm, thick and hot as custard, until we lay spent in each other's arms with the tangled sheets reeking of our sweat and our juices.
I remembered how we clung to one another one last time before we slept, and then the jangle of the alarm and the unwelcome thought of work in the cold and dark of morning.
She was smiling at me. "A penny for your thoughts."
"I was thinking of what we did last night. We've moved forward quickly."
She nodded, her eyes shining. "That's right. A few days ago we were just brother and sister... I can't believe how much we've fucked each other since then." She paused a moment, her head on the side, contemplating. "You're a complete bastard, you know. I thought my world was settled...now you've turned it upside down."
"It wasn't me who kept wiggling their little tush in my face every morning at breakfast."
"No -- but you're the one who took it to the next stage." She shivered as she thought of that first time, and how things had all changed so quickly. In truth it had been simmering for a long time, but when it happened it happened fast: those first sizzling kisses, the frantic tearing of clothes... the wonder of our naked flesh pressing against each other. I'd been as hard as I had ever been before, desperate to fuck her...and she'd been so compliant, gasping with desire, head thrown back as I entered her. I had a powerful memory of her lying on the table amongst the wreckage of breakfast, her nightie up by her waist and the cutlery on the table rattling with every thrust.
It was a compelling vision, and I felt my cock stiffening. "It's your fault for turning me on so much."
She laughed, and looked pointedly at my crotch. "It seems that I still do."
I had pushed out the front of my jocks in tent-like proportions. I laughed. "Oops. Sorry."
"Don't be. It's good to see that he's still got energy." She tore off a piece of toilet paper and deftly wiped her pussy, grimacing as she did so. "Ouch. I think you've battered it half to death." She lifted the fold of material in her lap and peered down. I caught a glimpse of the fine golden hair surrounding her cleft and a brief flash of her moist, swollen lips, and then her head obscured my view as she bent down to examine herself. I felt another surge of desire and my cock grew harder, threatening to burst out of the front of my pants.
She slipped one hand between her thighs, and I could imagine it moving over her pussy, fingers cool and dry, lightly touching the hot wet entrance to her body, slipping aside the lips to probe inside herself.
She turned her face up towards me, feigning anger. "It's fucked! You've broken my pussy!"
I turned and stood in front of her. A mane of tousled golden hair swept down over her shoulders and her grey eyes were wide and clear, setting off the perfect oval of her face. Her lips were pursed in concentration, moist and pink, slightly apart and with the gleam of white teeth behind them. I could see the push of her breasts against her nightie, the curve of her waist and the long, smooth columns of her legs. I thought she was stunningly beautiful.
Her gaze shifted to my crotch. "He doesn't seem to be very contrite."
"I guess not. He likes what he can see."
She laughed. "Well, if he can see me and I can't see him, that's hardly fair."
She lifted her hand, her fingers brushing over my jocks, sliding over the protuberance underneath. She deftly inserted her fingers through the fly and drew me out, looking intently at the thick shaft. I was painfully swollen, the skin stretched taut and shiny, and my foreskin had rolled back so that the head was fully exposed, red and angry. She moved her hand so that she could cradle my balls and for a moment my rod lay along her forearm, almost as thick as her wrist. I closed my eyes and groaned at the heat of her touch.
She seized my prick and drew me towards her, bending forward slightly so that she could take me into her mouth. I watched as her lips slid over the head and I popped into her, and I growled at the furnace heat of her mouth. She slithered her lips along the shaft until I could feel the narrow confines of her throat pressing against the glans.
She drew back, and I slid out, the skin shining with her saliva. She looked up at me. "I can taste myself on him."
"I'm not surprised. You creamed me pretty well. I think we were almost washed out of bed when you came the last time."
She shook her head. "Not me, buster. It was you. I thought my pussy was going to burst, you pumped so much into me." She bent forward again, lifting my shaft so that she could lick the sensitive underside, the tip of her little pink tongue flicking against the skin like a kitten lapping at a bowl of cream. A drop of lubricant appeared at the eye and I watched as she deftly licked it off, a thin strand of silver connecting us for a moment.
She sat up again and looked at my cock, her small white hand gripping the shaft. "Looks like there is lots of life in the old dog yet." She laughed again. "He deserves doggy style as a reward."