[This is the start of a new story with new characters (but with some background connections to my previous stories; these may be explored further in later chapters). This is a brother/sister incest romance, also involving some pissing, so don't read if those are not your thing.
Tags: Brother/Sister Incest, Piss, Big Cock
All characters involved in sexual situations are aged over 18.]
*****
It was a gorgeous day, cloudless and cornflower blue, the warmest of the year so far. The sort of day when nobody was in a hurry, not that anyone ever was in this part of the country. The afternoon sun glittered on the small lakes and millponds dotted among the wheatfields. A light breeze swayed the green canopies of spruce and beech forest that cloaked the hillsides. Picnic blankets were spread out in churchyards, boats drifted sedately on winding rivers, birdwatchers scanned the clear skies. Couples went for walks hand-in-hand, or lounged around in bed together.
Thorfinn drove through the countryside with his windows rolled down, letting the inrush of air ruffle his short blond hair. There weren't too many other cars on the road, and he could largely go as fast as he liked. Or at least, as fast as the narrow, switchbacking country roads permitted, with their blind corners and bone-shaking cattle grids. It still beat the eternal traffic jams of the city. He was looking very forward to this long weekend, a rare break from urban life and the exhausting overwork of his new job. A chance to see his sleepy old hometown, reconnect with family and old friends. He planned to split his time between his parents' place and the cottage where his younger sister Aurora lived.
Aurora had insisted he come see her first, for a drink and a months-overdue catch-up, and he didn't intend to disappoint her. He parked his car outside her cottage, a pretty little red-brick affair on the edge of the village, hidden in a stand of spindly poplars. The house was a rental, mostly paid for by their parents. Aurora was staying there for the time being, while she sorted out her affairs post-graduation. It was a great location, overlooking the rolling farmland and scattered forests, but a bit too isolated for Thorfinn's liking. The nearest neighbours were a good distance down the road, and the nearest drinking establishment - an ancient fieldstone tavern, their longtime family local - was a twenty-minute walk. He didn't know how Aurora, always a social butterfly, maintained her sanity living in the middle of nowhere.
She'd left a spare key for him under a cracked flowerpot by the front door. He opened the cottage to take his overnight bag inside, leaving it on the living room sofa. Aurora kept a rather messy house, leaving her clothes strewn all over the place and half-drunk cups of tea on the kitchen counter. But the spare bedroom looked spotless, with the bedspread showing crisp hospital corners. More likely that was their mother's work.
After re-locking the cottage, Thorfinn began the trek to the tavern on foot. There wasn't much point taking the car, as he imagined he'd soon be in no state to drive home. And it was a lovely walk, along that familiar winding path bordered by low drystone walls, the fields stretching away green and gold on every side. The noonday heat raised beads of sweat on his brow. Why had he worn dark jeans on a day like this?
The path took him through a mile of farmland, across a shallow forded stream and into a patch of spruce forest that provided some welcome shade. Finally, it opened out into a proper road on a hillside overlooking the village. The weathervane atop the church steeple glinted gold over the slate rooftops in the middle distance. A lone white cloud scudded across the blue horizon.
The tavern stood on the crest of the hill, a low rambling structure thickly covered with dark ivy. A chalkboard menu stating the day's specials was propped up by the entrance. The main door was original, its ancient oak planks held together with sturdy iron bands. Apart from the satellite dish on the roof and the handful of cars parked in front, the place could have time-travelled straight from the fifteenth century. Thorfinn found it a comforting sight, reassuringly unchanged since his last visit.
He walked inside, ducking his head under the low wooden beams; the tavern's long-dead builders had clearly never expected to accommodate a man his height. Most of the indoor seating was occupied by families having lunch, but Aurora had already messaged to say she had gotten them a table in the tavern garden. It was definitely the weather for outdoor drinking.
Stooping through another too-small doorway, Thorfinn made his way out back. The garden was a small, slightly overgrown lawn enclosed by a brick wall, much newer than the rest of the tavern. Several sun-bleached wooden picnic benches were arranged on the grass, most of them occupied. A freckled, tired-eyed waitress was carrying a tray of expensive-looking burgers out to a young couple and their two squabbling children. Wasps were buzzing industriously around a spilled drink on one of the benches.
"Finn! Over here!" called a familiar, warm, melodious voice.
Thorfinn turned his head and saw his sister seated on a bench near the rear wall of the garden. A tall trellis of pink climbing roses covered the red brickwork behind her. Some of the petals had fallen onto the benchtop, a scattering of pale curls and twists. Judging by the pint of beer standing almost empty among them, Aurora had already started drinking.
She was leaning her elbows on the bench in that insouciant way of hers, her dark-blonde hair worn in a layered bob that brushed over her shoulders. Her pretty oval face was lit up with a welcoming smile that cutely dimpled her cheeks. Full lips, a neatly upturned nose. Her eyes were a bright, summery blue-green. They were eyes that had broken a lot of hearts, Thorfinn knew.
Aurora was certainly better dressed for the heat. She wore a knot-waisted blue skirt with an intricate floral print, its hem a little above her knee, and a skimpy white linen top that left her shoulders bare. Her long, slender, gently tanned legs were kicked out comfortably underneath the bench. A large, curlicued, abstract tattoo decorated almost the whole length of her right leg, while a chain of Cyrillic characters were inscribed on her other ankle. Her minimalist plaited sandals exposed cute toes with neat, lilac-painted nails.
"Hey, Aura," Thorfinn said, making his way through the garden towards her. He hadn't seen her in four months, their longest-ever time apart. In that time, he'd started a new job, she'd finished her masters degree, and they'd both suffered the biggest breakup of their respective lives. Yet Aurora didn't seem to have changed one bit. Her smile never failed to raise his spirits. She was two years younger than him, but they'd grown up as close as twins.
"Sorry I got started without you. It's too hot to not drink," she said, getting up from the bench. She was tallish, standing five-foot-eight in flat sandals, and nicely athletic. Years of weekend tennis and squash had given her a wiry, toned physique, with good definition in her arms and shoulders, and a decidedly slinky midriff. Her breasts were high and firm under the thin fabric of her top. A white-gold necklace decorated her pretty neck, with a small opal pendant dangling just above her cleavage.
"No harm done. I would have done the same." Thorfinn hugged her tight, letting her kiss his cheek - he was fully six-foot-four, and she had to stand on tiptoes to do it. He felt her nipples press against his torso through the material of his shirt, and realised with a start that she wasn't wearing a bra. Not particularly unusual for her, but it made him slightly uneasy all the same. "It's been too long."
"Way too long. I missed my big brother."
