<8 Shower
Both of their garments lay in a heap at their feet. They stood there, brother and sister, naked, facing each other, her nipples hard and straining toward him, his cock between them still warm and hard enough in her hand. Mouse lowered herself gently to sit on the lip of the tub, never letting go, even as she turned on the water.
With his cock beside her face, she couldn't resist a quick kiss, spiced with a mischievous glance and smile. She felt the water a few times, then quickly stood, stepped into the shower and pulled him in with her. He yanked the shower curtain closed behind him, as she finally, reluctantly released him to slide both hands up his chest. Mouse stretched up on her tiptoes, aching to kiss him lightly again. She closed her eyes as his hands slid pleasingly down her sides to rest on her hips.
Mouse turned to set the massaging shower head to pulse, giving it a slow, hard rhythm. She took the soap and began rubbing it on herself, putting on a show for her brother. She soaped her body much like she danced, with a silent rhythm, and with undulating, arching stretches. She thrust her tits and her legs and her ass out and forward and back for her brother, moving almost as if he were still fucking her. Soon her body glistened for him with water and soap. She dipped her head back into the drumming spurts of water, tipping it from side to side until her hair was soaked. Rivulets of water ran down her face.
* * *
Michael watched as Mouse's hair darkened further, matting against her head and changing her look completely. It was as if she had turned into another woman before his eyes, becoming a short haired, boyish, shining water-nymph, with water cascading down her face from the shower head like cum from a huge, pulsing metal cock above her.
She looked at him coyly, shifting her hips and shoulders seductively.
Without taking her eyes off of him she turned around, leaned against the shower wall, and pushed her ass toward him, rotating it slowly and invitingly. He reached forward with a single hand to touch it, to rub it, feeling the slippery sensation of the soap on her smooth skin.
He let his lone hand slide from there up her side to her breast. The whole way up he felt the soap and the warmth, and when he cupped her breast he noticed for the first time how soft it was, how much larger it felt than it had looked the night before, and how very, very hard her nipple was against his palm. He let the nipple slip between two soapy fingers, to squeeze it gently. Mouse responded immediately with a satisfying hum.
"That's a good boy," she said. "Get your dirty little sister nice and clean all over. Don't miss a spot."
She leaned back into him again, grinding his cock between her ass cheeks. He felt it slip and glide across the slippery skin of her ass, wishing that he could get another erection this soon.
"I've always loved your ass, Mouse," he murmured into her ear, his voice a deep, rumbling baritone that pleased her immensely.
"Oh? So you have had thoughts?" she demanded, widening her eyes with a laughing, interrogating look.
"Of course I have, you slut. You strut around everywhere half dressed, wiggling and cooing like a whore, of course I've gotten erections and 'had thoughts'. You little tease."
He kissed her nose quickly, eliciting a small grin from her. She turned her face away from him, but at the same time she lifted herself onto her toes to rub the smooth, soapy crack of her cheeks up and down against his cock.
"Tell me more," she breathed, her rising voice signaling her growing excitement.
* * *
Michael was silent, seemingly refusing to answer her question, so Mouse focused instead on the feel of his hand on her breast. She looked down, watching his marvelously large, sexy hands holding her comparatively small tit gently, kneading it, caressing it.
Emotions raged through her like a rain swollen river. She was embarrassed that she'd cried in front of him, that she'd lost it so completely. She'd opened herself so thoroughly to him, telling him everything she felt. She had never intended to do that. She didn't do that with anyone, ever.
She had spent so many years trying to seduce him, and trying not to seduce him. She'd been in love with her brother for so long, holding everything in check for so long. The sudden release now was impossible to control.
The hand on her breast drifted down her arm to interlock with her own fingers. She held his hand tightly, as his other hand slipped in to find her other breast.
With her eyes closed, with his hand holding hers, she drifted back in time. She sat again at the kitchen table, a little girl in awe beside her handsome older brother. That was when she'd first noticed his hands. That was when she fell in love with them, and with him. She was a silly little girl.
He went on and on about math, while she pretended to listen. All she could see and think about were his hands. He held the pencil in them, scratching meaningless symbols on the page in front of her. She didn't see the symbols, only his hand.
He would explain things in his deep, musical voice. She'd heard the voice, but not the words. She would eagerly reach forward to grab the pencil from him as an excuse to touch his thick, strong fingers. She'd let her hand coast smoothly over the back of his, feeling the curve of the bulge of muscle between his thumb and forefinger. She'd pretended he was her boyfriend, that they were holding hands at the table.
She couldn't wait to marry him.
Mouse's mind snapped back to the present as Michael's other hand abandoned her marvelously tortured breast to drift down to her waist, only to fall further still along her soapy ass, then slip underneath, between her legs. One thick, worshipped finger found her slit. It rubbed the crease of her pussy, forcing Mouse to respond, forcing her to thrust her ass back and forth with his movements, trying desperately to draw it inside her. Her body was under his control, not hers.
"Don't make me come, Michael," she pleaded, knowing he would ignore her. "Don't make your dirty little sister come. I don't deserve to come, Michael."
She remembered with glee when she'd snuck into the bathroom as a girl while he showered. It wasn't the naive accident everyone thought it was. She'd planned it carefully, although her plan had failed. She'd been there quite a while, nervously gathering the courage to peek, to see him naked and up close, before he'd discovered her. She trembled now under his touch, just as she had then in mere anticipation of seeing her brother's naked form.
Michael's finger slipped into her now. She smiled as he found that the flesh of her cunt was more slippery than her soapy ass. His finger penetrated her deeply. She imagined it as a cock, one that could wiggle and please her like no other. A second finger joined the first. She pictured them, her brother's fingers, her brother's sexy hand, working inside his little sister to please her.
Mouse opened her mouth to speak again. She was shocked when a high-pitched squeal escaped instead. The words that followed came out an octave higher than she expected, a little girl's voice using her mouth to speak a wicked woman's words.
"Sweet brother, darling brother," she whimpered. "Don't make me come for you, Michael. I'm so nasty to you, I don't deserve to come..."
Michael tried to release her hand, to use that hand on her body, too, but Mouse clung to it tightly. He forced her hand across her body to her crotch, where one more of his amazing fingers found her clit and rubbed it gently. Mouse relaxed her grip on him, letting him touch her now, as long as she could gently touch his hand, too.
"Michael, brother Michael. Sweet lover, sweet fucker Michael," she squealed.
She tried to say more when another finger, slick with soap, found it's way into her asshole. She felt his strong hands everywhere, on her clit, in her pussy, in her ass. She held her own hand against his, and quickly found the other, too. With her hands on his, with his sexy, massive, powerful hands in her, filling her, fucking her, tormenting her, raping her, she started to come.
"Oh, God, Michael sweet Michael. I shouldn't come, I shouldn't let you make me come," she screamed. Her body started to convulse. Some corner of her mind knew that her cunt was grabbing at and twitching against his fingers. His fingers were everywhere. She felt them everywhere inside her, she saw them in her mind, she touched them with her hands.
Michael's wonderfully strong, brotherly hands were all over her.
"Yes, Brother, yes! Yes, make me come, if you have to, make me come, make me love you, make me be the slut you've always wanted."
The orgasms seemed to continue forever. He never stopped moving inside her, until her mind and body were both spent and numb.
* * *
The hot water was gone, the shower almost ice cold when they finally rested.
He loved this feeling of power over her. He had wanted to make her string of orgasms last for as long as he could. After a time he was almost afraid that he was hurting her, but even as long as it had all lasted, he still felt disappointment when her screams and shudders ceased, and she was still.
