Venom's Seed
Introduction
The Kala Vora caves hulked over the Thai coast, a jagged gash of black rock oozing slick green lichen, whispering rot and secrets no glossy tourist rag would touch. Adi and Alisha--siblings bound by restless blood and years of unspoken glances--slipped free from the group that muggy March day, the air heavy with salt and a creeping, primal menace. Their mom Donna's chirpy chatter, their dad David's gruff muttering, and the guide Somchai's clipped warnings droned behind them, drowned by the cave's pull--a throbbing pulse deep in the earth, ancient, ravenous. Adi, 22, wiry with a predator's edge, flashed a sharp smirk, his lean frame taut in cargo shorts, cocky thrill lighting his dark eyes. Alisha, 20, followed close, her lithe body quiet but electric--dark hair spilling over a tank that hugged her pert tits, white bikini peeking beneath, her stride teasing danger she didn't yet see. Neither clocked the venom lurking--a bite, a fever, a thread about to snap everything wide open.
They didn't mean to lose themselves--trapped by a sudden flood, steam choking their narrow ledge, the bite's heat twisting Adi's veins, forcing Alisha's hands into desperate, forbidden acts. Survival flipped fast--cock slamming pussy, cum flooding deep, milk leaking later--a brother's seed rooting raw in his sister's flesh, the cave their womb of ruin. Months on, a village shack cradled the fallout--Alisha's swollen tits dripping milk, a baby suckling at her chest, Adi's shadow looming, the venom's dark gift etched in their skin. This isn't just lust--it's older, filthier, a pulse that shattered them and branded its mark.
The black sand of Kala Vora shimmered under a dying sun, a volcanic ridge slicing the beach as the tour group shuffled at a corpse's pace. Fifteen bodies--mostly sagging, gray-haired relics in their 40s to 60s--dragged through the humid dusk, their buzz a dull hum beneath crashing waves. Adi kicked a clump of sand, scattering it toward the surf. "This is fucking torture," he growled, wiping sweat from his brow, his lean torso flexing under a damp tee, cargo shorts slung low on narrow hips, hinting at the tight ass beneath.
Beside him, Alisha smirked, arms crossed under her firm rack, her white bikini top flashing through a loose tank--nipples faintly outlined, teasing without trying. "Old farts ruin everything," she snapped, her voice cutting sharp, a restless edge from a girl itching to bolt, her long legs shifting, toned thighs gleaming with sweat.
Up ahead, Somchai, the wiry Thai guide, droned on, his accent thick and numbing. "Stay close, yeah? Caves 'round here got weird bugs--bites fuck you up, strange shit," he said, his words lost in sandal scuffs and camera clicks. Donna, their mom--43, curvy with a MILF's ripe allure--fumbled her lens, floral hat flopping over a face still pretty despite the years, her sundress clinging to full tits and a round ass that jiggled as she moved. "David, look at this texture!" she chirped, oblivious, her voice too bright.
David, their dad--47, broad and grizzled--nodded absently, his hulking frame stuffed in a polo, gray hair thinning over a face carved hard by time. "Basalt, probably. Volcanic," he mumbled, his deep grunt barely audible, eyes drifting more to Donna's swaying hips than the rocks. The geezers--fanny-packed tourists with sunblock-smeared noses--oohed and aahed, snapping pics like it was a museum, their shuffle a funeral dirge.
Adi caught Alisha's eye, smirking wide. "They're fossils, sis. Walking tombstones," he said, his grin all teeth, cocky as hell--her brother, her rival, the wiry shit who'd always push her buttons. She snorted, tossing her dark hair, strands sticking to her sweaty neck. "You're the fossil, dumbass. Bet you'd trip over that ridge," she fired back, playful glare locking on him--the same lanky idiot who'd eaten sand on a dare, her constant shadow since they were kids.
The group crawled on--khaki shorts, bad hats, a death march--and Adi's foot tapped faster, restless energy coiling in his lean frame. Alisha scanned the horizon, the cave's dark maw lurking past the ridge, a faint pull tugging her gut. Somchai's bug talk was static--they didn't give a shit, the old folks' pace a slow bleed on their nerves.
"Bunch of stiffs," Adi muttered, voice low, his sharp eyes glinting mischief.
Alisha nodded, a spark flaring in her hazel stare. "We're wasting daylight," she said, her tone daring him--no plan, just the itch, two siblings synced in their fed-up chaos, innocent as brats plotting a ditch.
Adi's sneakers crunched black sand as he crouched near the volcanic ridge, snagging a coconut half-sunk by the tide. The group's murmur--Donna's "Oh, look!" and David's rock geekery--faded under the waves' roar. He smirked at Alisha, twirling the hairy husk, his lean arms flexing, sweat beading on his sharp jaw. "Catch, dipshit!" he called, lobbing it her way with a flick of his wrist.
She swung her arm like a bat, smacking it back into his chest with a thud, her laugh sharp and wild. "Nice try, loser!" she taunted, her tank shifting--white bikini top hugging her perky tits, dark hair whipping in the humid breeze, her lithe frame buzzing with defiance.
Adi lunged, all wiry muscle and cocky grin, tackling her into the shallow surf. Water splashed as he hooked her slim waist, yanking her from a curling wave--his hands firm on her hips, steadying her curvy ass. "Saved your slow ass," he teased, voice dripping smug, his grip tight through her squirms.
She straddled his lap to snatch the coconut, giggling hard. "You're the dipshit who can't throw!" she shot back, her ass brushing his crotch as she twisted--sand gritty on her wet bikini, his cargo shorts soaked heavy, her thighs sliding against him. His hands lingered a beat--pure instinct, no heat--before he shoved her off, both breathless, laughing like idiots.
Foam kicked up, her tank plastering to her ribs, nipples poking faintly through, his shirt clinging to his lean chest--sibling chaos, loud and dumb. She flopped onto her back in the shallows, coconut clutched to her flat stomach, smirking up at him. "You're weak," she jabbed, voice bright, her wet hair fanning out.