Backseat Sis Rides Brother For Mom

How did I wind up putting on a show for my mom, getting fucked by my brother on a chair, while roleplaying the back seat car sex from a few months ago?

***

"Hey," said my brother, Lucus. "Wanna see my latest painting?"

"Sure," I said, while my mom, Aleja, nodded.

We all wandered into the spare bedroom of his college apartment, which had been turned into a painting studio after the three of us had decided to share the Cal King bed in the master bedroom. Well, "decided" is perhaps the wrong word here, but there isn't an English word for "the-incestual-sex-between-two-siblings-and-their-recently-divorced-mom-had-happened-often-enough-that-a-de-facto-relationship-had-formed-where-the-mom-sleeping-on-the-couch-seemed-weird-and-so-without-overtly-discussing-it-the-mom-just-shared-the-bed-with-her-kids-every-night-to-facilitate-aftersex-cuddling."

If we spoke German, we'd just jam all these words together into some large shouty gutteral phrase like "Diese-Perversen-setzen-sich-durch-Gruppenficken-über-alle-gesellschaftlichen-Konventionen-hinweg!"

But this is Texas, dammit. We speak 'Murican here, and proud of it.

That should be spoken in a mildly self-deprecating tone, with just a hint of sarcasm, if that wasn't clear from the context.

Oh, and if you're wondering why I'm addressing invisible readers instead of this all being unspoken thoughts in my head, that's because I'm typing this on my laptop for a Literotica story. Which would have been unthinkable a couple months ago, * before * I accidentally published a story there that revealed our weird relationship to the world. And then some students on my Dallas area campus figured out I was probably the author. And rather than walking around in shame all the time with people gossiping behind my back, I decided to brazen it out. Lean into it. Fuck 'em if they get all judge-y, yeah?

***

So we wandered into Lucus' studio and saw a huge acrylic painting, perhaps a four foot by six foot canvas, showing him and me fucking in the back seat. He'd painted it fast, judging by the bold swooping lines in bright colors conveying the vigor with which I'd plunged my sexy voluptuous brown booty into his lap, enveloping his stiffness over and over as I rode him in reverse doggystyle. You could see just a touch of mom's hair peeking around the car seat in the background, hinting that she'd been driving while we did it.

"Wow," mom said.

After a couple seconds of silence, Lucus said, "Was that a good 'wow', or a 'the fuck were you th--' "

"Much as it pains me to admit it," I interrupted, "you're a super talented painter. You're way better than me at this one narrow endeavor than I am at, oh, everything else."

"Hunh," Lucus said. "I couldn't hear anything you said after you called me a 'super talented painter.' What with the warm glow I felt from my little sister for once giving me an undiluted compliment and acknowledging that I, too, am smart. And not somehow making this accomplishment all about you."

"If you two are quite done with bickering..." mom said.

Lucus glanced at me. "I think we've finally got our quota in for the night. Now we can relax and be super sweet and nice to each other until midnight."

I shrugged. "Sure."

Mom was leaning close to the painting, examining the detail. "This is getting me kinda hot. Wish I had been able to watch y'all, instead of driving."

"I got an idea," Lucus said.

I managed to avoid the obvious snarky reply. Felt pretty good, taking the high road. I should try it more often, this 'shutting up' thing.

Nah.

***

We carried the painting into the master bedroom, Lucus carrying a hammer and a clear plastic tray filled with painting hanging stuff. He expertly eyed the blank wall to the right of the big bed, measuring distances, then pounded into the drywall a couple of hanging hooks. He grabbed the wire he'd previously strung behind the painting, and swiftly hung it on the hooks, perfectly centered and the right height on the first go. He nudged the left top corner down, getting it level.

He then sat on the big chair on the other side of the bed, as we all admired the painting of him and me fucking in the car a few months ago. "Have a seat," he said, waving toward the Cal King bed with its riotous excess of pillows -- four rows, only one actually functional for sleeping. "Not you, Ciara. Just mom."

Ah, I thought. Got it.

I strolled seductively toward him, my thick hips swaying invitingly. "Hey, sexy. Mind if I sit on your lap?"

"I don't think we should. Mom's right there, driving."

"Umm-hmm," I said, putting a bit of sultry purr into it. "It's getting so hot in here." I sat on his lap, facing him. Unbuttoned two buttons on my shirt, revealing more of my sexy brown cleavage and the top of my black lacy bra.

"Please," he said. "Don't. It's wro--"

I put a finger to his lips. "Shhh." I took his hand. Kissed it slowly and sensually, looking into his sexy green eyes the entire time.

Put that hand on the next button down. "Just undo one more button, please? So I can cool down in this... Very. Hot. Car." I used my most seductive bedroom voice for the last three words.

His pupils were wide open with lust by now. "Only one, right?"

"Mmmmm." I leaned forward and just barely touched my sensual pillow-y brown lips against his somewhat less beige, eminently kissable lips.

He slid the button through the hole, exposing most of my bra.

I kissed him, lingering. "Again."

"I shouldn't," he said, undoing the next button.

I kissed an earlobe, and whispered, "Do you want me?" It wasn't really a question.

"But you're my little sister!" he said, undoing the remaining button.

"Take it off."

"I shouldn't. Please... don't... I..." he said, taking my shirt off. Dropping it on the floor.

I put my hands on the sides of his face, his three day stubble of a beard tickling my fingers, and gently guided his face into the valley between my black silk clad breasts. My breasts used to be merely huge, but the hormones caused by the tiny fetus inside me had made them ginormous, and the nipples and big areolas barely visible through the lacy fabric had grown even darker, almost black.

"Mmmmmmmhhhggg," he growled sexily, rubbing his cheeks side to side against the ripe round goodness enveloping his face. "Soooo soft and mmmmhh..." His voice got muffled as I held my breasts at the sides and pushed inward, enveloping his face with arguably the greatest tits in the Dallas metro area. Possibly Fort Worth, too.

I nudged him gently toward a large erect nipple. He nibbled and licked it through the silk.

I moaned, feeling the heat and wetness growing in my sex below, and undid the clasp on the bra. He pulled it off and his mouth latched on the dark nipple like the baby inside me would do some day, while his hands kneaded the heavy fullness of both my breasts. He licked the areola, circling, then suddenly nipped the hardness in the erect center gently, bringing a bit of pain and so much pleasure.

I tore off his shirt, almost ripping off some buttons in my haste. His skin contrasted so sexily with mine, a light tan with freckles versus my dark brown. His torso was strong and lean and muscled, versus my feminine softness and curves.

I turned my head slightly to the left and looked at my mom, who had taken her shirt off to reveal her luscious body, less curvy than my voluptuousness and slightly less dark skin, but her tropical Cuban heritage reflected in both of us. She was watching us, touching and squeezing her hard nipples, reflecting what Lucus' mouth was doing to my breasts, and her hand was rubbing inside her panties. She was breathing hard, aroused from watching Lucus and me.

It briefly occurred to me that maybe our family might, from certain people's perspectives, be a tiny bit fucked up. But that semi-rare moment of introspection flitted away as Lucus imitated my mom and reached inside my panties, his long fingers caressing my wet hot slick cunt.

I moaned into his ear, "Pull my shorts down and fuck me already." I stood up to give him access.

"I can't. You're my sister. It's so wrong," he protested, obeying, greedily yanking down my shorts and black lacy panties.

"I mean, if your conscience is bothering you, we can st--"

He spun me around so I was facing my mom, who had this glazed lustful look in her eyes, and yanked his shorts down to his ankles.

I reached down and grasped his rock hard cock. "Apparently this doesn't have a conscience. At all."

My brother grabbed my hips and tried to pull me down and bury himself inside me. But I put my arms on his hard thigh muscles, bracing myself, while my strong leg muscles stopped his stiffness just short of his black slippery goal.

"Please," he said. "Please stop. Don't. Mom will hear us. She's right there in front of us." His argument was somewhat undercut by his hips pushing up against my entrapping arms, so the tip of his cockhead slid back and forth against my well-lubricated pussy lips.

"Shh. We'll be quiet," I said, loudly.

I suddenly let go with my arms, surprising Lucus as his cock plunged all the way inside my wet hot tunnel.

"Ohmyfuckinggod," he said.

"Shhh. Quiet. You promised."

"Umm, no, YOU prom--" he said while lifting me, his strong hands clenching the softness padding my hips, and then pushing me back home, buried to the root.

"Hush," I said, pulling out, hovering my pussy tantalizingly close to his hard prick desperately straining upwards. "Let's not get bogged down in who said what. Let's just stipulate you're wrong."

"You're right. I'm sorry, dear."

I plunged back down.

Bless his heart. I'll get him trained yet.

Lucus grabbed my breasts and pulled me against his chest, hugging me and whispering in my ear how much he loved me, and how I was the greatest sister ever, without any discernable sarcasm. While fucking the hell out of me.

"I love you, too, baby."

"Awwwww. Unh. UHN! Oh, god I'm gonna come!"

I whispered in his ear, "I was talking to the fetus. But I kinda like you, too."

"Can I come inside you, baby?"

"Gimme your hot sticky cum. I want all of it."

"I. Love. You. So. Much," he grunted, cumming, one spurt per word.

I heard some 'I'm Cumming' noises from the bed, too, as my mom laid back on the bed, legs spread apart, her fingers rubbing her clit.

I turned around on Lucus' lap so I was facing him again, and gave him soft kisses all over his face as he gasped for breath. "Do you love me?" I said softly.

"I love you so much." He opened his gorgeous eyes, heavy-lidded with the usual post-orgasm sleepiness, but fighting it, trying to give me the attention and reassurance he knew I needed. Especially with his baby and his cum inside me.

He hugged me tight, and murmured in my ear, "We should get married."

"Oh, Lucus. You know that's not possible." I hugged him back, harder, for the sentiment behind his impossible words, for wanting to fight against one of the last vestiges of legal bigotry. Against the same kind of othering that, not long ago, would have kept someone with dark skin like mine from marrying a guy with lighter skin like his.

"Not 'approved-by-the-government' marriage. Just 'us declaring our commitment' marriage."

I silently lay against him, feeling his heart beat. That was enough.

"You know my best friend is LDS. He's a member of the priesthood, and can perform the ceremony. I'm sure he'd do that for us if I asked."

"He'd get excommunicated!"

"Who's gonna tell? And he'd follow me to the gates of hell if I asked. As I would do for him." He thought for a moment. "His wife might veto it, though. He's a convert -- she's born and raised in the Church."

I stared into his eyes, so full of misguided hope and idealism. "Is this really important to you? Because all I need to be happy is to get to be with you."

"Yeah," he said softly. "What's the harm in asking?"

I looked over at Aleja, who had been silently following our discussion. Raised my eyebrows.

She silently mouthed, 'Fuck it. I'm in.'

Jesus, I thought. We really doing this? Defying and taking on the federal, state, and county governments, a few billion bigots, and a worldwide church. What could go wrong?