After a long time reading incest stories, this is my first try at writing one. This story is about a brother and sister discovering their love, primarily from the sister's POV. It's short, romantic, and it is also an entry into the 2012 Halloween contest, so please vote. Every vote counts. Also, feedback would be greatly appreciated to let me know how I did with my first incest story. Thanks!
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2613 B.C.E. Dashur, Ancient Egypt
Snefru was trembling. It wasn't the final move that had him crowned as Pharaoh that heated his blood, it was not the approved plans for his pyramid. No, what made the man, the general, the leader of the known world as weak as a young boy was the staggering beauty of Hetepheres, his sister, his bride.
She was as beautiful as any goddess, though he imagined her as Isis, and Hetepheres was every bit as magical. Tonight they had wed on the celebration of Isis, just outside the Necropolis, at the site where his great pyramid was to be built and their bodies would enter eternity.
She came to him bathed and oiled, her wig long and black. Her eyes lined with kohl, her body naked. Her curves were rich and strong. She looked like her mother, his father's first wife, but younger, more beautiful.
"Brother," she said with love.
He could wait no longer and pulled her to the bed. She tasted of t he rich sweet meats from the feast and honey. He wanted to drizzle honey on her and lick it off, worship her as the earthbound deity she was, but there was too great an urgency.
She kissed him back with hunger and need, aroused and prepared for him by the servants. The women had caressed her body, inflaming her, and he had watched as they bathed her, stroked hr, caressed her. Now he rose above her and as she begged, slid inside.
She cried out, finally filled by the man she desired above all others. She had known physical love before, but not like this. Her brother, her husband, and now her lover. His cock slid in deep, stretching her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him weakly.
Snefru began to thrust, each stab of his cock buried deep inside her warm pussy made them both cry out. They rocked together, bodies slick with oils and sweat. He thrust harder, obeying her demands, claiming her. They shared blood and now with the sharing of their bodies their souls mingled.
He felt the peak boil up from his balls and held back, rubbing her, grinding, begging then ordering her to take the journey with him. At last she did, her head thrown back, crying out his name. Snefru let himself go and spilled his seed deep within her, feeling he had touched the realm of the gods with that pleasure.
She fluttered around him, squeezing him, milking him dry, and once done he cried out with renewed joy. Hetepheres' eyes rolled back showing the whites and he braced himself up on his forearms. She was having a vision.
"Together we shall rule in peace and prosperity, we shall be blessed with many children. Our son will build an even greater pyramid, an even greater kingdom. Our bodies will lay in our not into eternity but until a time when two souls such as our meet. In their love and passion we shall again walk the earth."
Her large brown eyes came back into focus and she smiled. "Our love has given me strength I never knew I had."
He kissed her deeply and felt himself hardening again, like a younger man. Vigor he had not known in ten years was his once more. "I live for the future, always with you, sister."
"Always with you," she promised.
1928 C.E. Cairo, Egypt
It was a shame what they had done to the world around them for the shindig. The British Museum members had joined with the Americans for a party. As far as Susan could tell, they always loved a party. Though the Brits weren't nearly as big on Halloween as Americans were, they had agreed to a costume party to celebrate the find from Dashur.
Someone had gotten real mummies for the bash. They were in the great tent of the dig into the City of the Dead, the canvas structure almost permanent. The sand below had been stamped down and covered with Oriental rugs, and all along the tent poles real mummies lay propped up for atmosphere. The centerpieces were the two sarcophagi on either side of the stage, worn with age. The great king Snefru and his wife. The British team had sent them over for testing, and Susan would begin in two days, the Day of All Souls.
All around them native Egyptians worked as waiters, milling about dressed as Desert Sheiks. "God, it's dreadful," she said to her compatriot Ellen Barnaby. They were the only two women on the dig not there as wives or daughters, but as archeologists in their own right.
Susan's young brother Jonas was there as well, but a finer researcher she couldn't think of. The British were trying to seduce him away and the monetary offers were growing every day. A few of his paintings were hung there; he had a talent for bringing the dead to life with a fine eye.
"The British think they are so sophisticated, but my god, they are garish."
Susan frowned and wished she could wear her glasses with the costume. Her sight wasn't terribly bad; they just brought everything into sharp focus. "I spent my summers in London as a child and for the most part the British are delightful. I think it's just this lot. They spent so much time moldering in the jungle before coming to the desert. Perhaps their minds have jungle rot."
Ellen giggled. "Oh, their men do speak so divinely but they refuse to treat us with respect. If I hear Lord Wilson tell me my place is at home one more time I'll scream. At least McConnell seems nice."
"It was nice of him to convince the Brits to agree to this party. One thing I do hate about work is missing the fun at home. I hear New York is buzzing tonight, Halloween is still all the rage."
"You should hear McConnell talk about it. He calls it Samhain and has the wildest tales, Jonas would love it! Speaking of your delicious brother, where is he?"
"Down girl! My brother is only eighteen, too young to seduce."
Ellen gave her a minxish look. "We'll see. He's so athletic, just as gorgeous as you, and so smart. He always treats me like a lady."
"Perhaps because I am such a harridan," Susan quipped.
Why should her friend's interest in her brother bother her so much? Jonas was coming into his own. Over the summer he had grown to his full height over six feet, just like their father. Like her he was athletic and tanned, his hair a bright gold and his eyes a deep green, an all American boy. As much as he enjoyed the sporting life he also adored books and painting. Two semesters into school he showed great promise and was delaying his return to university to join her on this excavation of the simple graves of the common people of a long-dead empire. He had been most excited about Snefru and was likely still in their tent, mixing up oils, trying to give the old king life on the day when the living sand the dead were destined to mingle.
She had been enjoying her freedom as an independent woman, far from her parent's eyes. She didn't tell Susan but she had seduced Lord Wilson and found his vanity extended into the bedroom, the bumbling fool. She was twenty four and had been a woman of the world for some time. Perhaps it was time for Jonas to join the ranks of the adults, but she didn't want her sweet brother introduced to it with the wild Ellen who regarded men as toys to be played with, broken, and discarded.
"What is he dressed as?"
"I don't know," Susan confessed, looking at a mirror behind a mummy at her own costume. Just to be daring before the British she was a harem girl, her pants gauzy and diaphanous. Her hair was piled atop her head and covered with soft purple lace matching some of the scarves making up her pants. Her top was dark peach satin and exposed her toned belly, covered with a vest of the same gauzy purple and red. Her mask was red lace and covered her eyes, a veil of peach below. "I do hope Jonas isn't dressed as a Sultan!"
Ellen laughed. She was dressed as a dove in a shimmering white dress with a hat to match, her mask the same shimmering color with white and silver sequins. At least that night they blended in with the other women. The wives and daughters of the other archeologists were dressed in equally glamorous confections. The Americans and the Irishman were good sports and wore costumes, but most of the British men had declined and instead wore their usual evening suits, looking like penguins.
