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Old 11-09-2009, 08:19 PM   #1
wilddreeem
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Arrow Mouse : A Sinful Love Story

Mouse : A Sinful Love Story is a full length novel (644 paperback pages) about a long, incestuous sibling love affair. It has vivid sex scenes, but is primarily a romance, and very much an erotic, romantic fantasy, unrealistic in some ways, and realistic in others.

Michael is in his forties, successful at work, but recently divorced, and beyond unhappy. His little sister Mona, eleven years his junior, has long since moved out of their sleepy town to live in Chicago and pursue a career in fashion design. She is creative, adventurous, popular, vivacious, lively... and has tormented Michael for his entire life. She teases, attacks and insults him. He tries to ignore her, until she makes him angry enough to lash back. They're like oil and vinegar. They don't mix. They don't get along.

But as cold and violent as their sibling relationship appears, something is simmering under the surface, something that has been carefully and diligently suppressed and repressed all of their lives.

Now, while visiting for their parent's wedding anniversary party, the family thinks that it's going to be funny if Mona ("Mouse" is her family nickname) has to stay with Michael, at Michael's house, for the weekend.

If they only knew...

You can read Mouse: A Sinful Love Story in its entirety and for free at literotica.com. When you have read it all there, you can also request a free, complete PDF copy of the entire novel to keep and to share with others as you wish.

The writing style is neither mundane and simplistic, nor overwrought or pretentious. The characters are fraught with flaws and selfish needs, each with their own collage of internal conflicts. The story leaves few aspects of the lovers' relationship, and their relationships with the rest of the family, untouched. Every chapter includes sex that is not only steamy, but also interesting, involving and imaginative, but to get to the sex, and to enjoy it, you have to also read and enjoy the romance, and the events that lead down the path of incest.

The novel begins:

Quote:
Book 1: Beginnings

Chapter 1

<8 Breakfast

He felt guilt and shame and unparalleled pleasure as his sister's mouth enveloped his cock in hot, wet fire. He would feel her lips make a burning, constricting ring around his cock's head while squeezing it with one hand, at the very base, in a half circle made with her thumb and forefinger. As she descended on him he felt her sweet lips glide down, slowly, until his cock head touched the soft wet flesh at the back of her throat. From there she continued her wicked descent, his cock slipping more deeply in, with her mouth and throat feeling like the only place he ever wanted his cock to be.

As her mouth neared the very base of his cock she'd pause, while her lips moved artistically against him, massaging his shaft. Then she'd remove her hand to make room to continue further down with her lips, all the way to the base, taking every single inch of him into her. Her lips would touch the flesh of his groin, right at the base of his cock, then move agilely again, squeezing him, working him, while her tongue writhed, pressing and exploring the sides of his prick inside her mouth.

She would hold him like that, rammed deeply into her throat, for an unbearable eternity before releasing him.

She was amazing, taking him as no woman ever had. She'd take and release him quickly, two, three, four times, then let his cock slide out so she could hold it in her hands, licking and kissing the sides, while she regrouped, preparing for another assault.

While she had him deep inside her throat, while she devoured him, he lost all control. He would grab her head to pull her onto him, helping to drive his cock deeply into his own sister's mouth, fucking her wildly, aching for the release that would only come by filling her sweet loving mouth with everything he could give her.

When she released him, then conscious thought, and the guilt, would return. She would press her lips against his cock, holding it against her face. She would look up into his own eyes with hers. She was a woman, he knew, an irresistible woman, but when he looked at her he saw the big brown eyes in the innocent little girl's face that he had grown up with. A small voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to stop, to take control and put a stop to it.

And then her mouth was on him again, feverishly trying to bring him to climax, clearly, excitingly hungry to taste her brother's cum. Each time he felt her mouth on him, he longed to give it to her.

Lost in the sensation, his thoughts wandered randomly, aimlessly into recent days, as he felt her mouth torturing him gloriously.

Her mouth. His sister's nasty, perfect mouth.

<8 Party

It had been both as dull and as uncomfortably exciting as he'd known it would be. It could have been worse, he could have still been married, forced to endure the company of his ex-wife. He didn't hate her. It was just that their relationship had decayed, in the end, to the point where they each spent every moment together trying to get revenge, trying to somehow win after they really both had lost. They'd lost so many years and so many happy futures.

Eventually she'd cheated. They were so done by then that her escapade didn't even bother him. They simply split. The end.

They were just lucky they had never had kids, so the break was that much easier when the time came.

Michael stood in a corner, feeling alone and awkward, watching the other guests mingle. Almost everyone was a friend of their parents; neighbors, co-workers, old army buddies and odd acquaintances. One of them had cornered Melanie, his older sister. Some short, hunched, graying man was lecturing her energetically about something important to him. Melanie pretended to care.

His sister towered over the man. She was a tall, statuesque woman. Most of the family was tall. She wore a low cut, tight fitting evening gown, all glittering with midnight blue sequins. The bare flesh of her cleavage was... attractive, and showed readily in the gown, an unusual display for his big sister. This seemed to be part of the reason the short little old gnome was talking to her, his face being naturally almost in her chest. His eyes indiscreetly strayed there too frequently.

Melanie was the only blonde in the family. Dark roots clearly betrayed her act of vanity. It wasn't natural, but it looked good on her. She smartly didn't try to make herself completely blonde. There were streaks of darker locks, a mix of dark and light browns, amidst a bed of dirty blonde. Frosted, Michael thought the women called it. Like most women in her forties, she kept her hair cut short, though not quite as short as most. Michael liked it.

He scanned the room some more. On the other side, there was Mouse, his little sister, entertaining a small harem of men. Her smile was like a fire in their midst. They all camped around it, drawn inward toward it for warmth. Mouse was always like that, always lively and joking, always the center of attention. She met his gaze for a moment, held it, and then broke the link to make a laughing joke with the man beside her.

. . .
You can click here to read the rest of Mouse : A Sinful Love Story.
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Old 11-29-2009, 09:26 AM   #2
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Default From Book 3, Chapter 2

Another exerpt from Mouse: A Sinful Love Story... this from Book 3, Chapter 2...

Quote:
He didn't say a word. It was so much like that first night, with the two of them staring at each other, one in fury, the other in fear. Except this time it was her anger that was burning, not his.

Michael's hands reached out and touched her shoulders. She shrugged him off, twisting more violently than was necessary. Her feet never moved. She wasn't going anywhere, but he wasn't touching her. She glared at him belligerently.

His hands grabbed her again, this time more forcefully. A crack echoed in the room as she slapped him, as hard as she could. He released her in surprise. Her own fingers tingled with the sting of the blow.

His hand took her arms this time, pinning them to her sides. He held her roughly, more strongly than she could resist. He pulled her into him. She pushed back weakly. Then his lips found hers, forcing her into an angry, unwanted kiss. His lips slavered all over her mouth. His tongue drove itself between her lips. She shook her head from side to side, trying to avoid the contact, but he held her tightly and continually forced his mouth on hers.

Inside she was melting, overwhelmed by the kiss, feeling like it was their first kiss, their first night all over again.

He released her lips, only her lips, for a moment.

"Get off of me, you fucking bastard. Let me go!" she screamed, hoping he wouldn't listen.

He didn't. One hand slid down to grab her ass crudely. His fingers spread wide, then squeezed her painfully, biting into the firm muscles in her buttocks. His other hand slid down the other side, doing the same to her other cheek. His hands spread her ass, exposing her anus. She fought down the thrill of the sensation. She loved his hands, almost more than anything. Suddenly he pulled her up, lifting her into the air where she couldn't escape him. His mouth found her neck to slobber all over her there, and then found her mouth again.

She could have avoided the kiss easily, but she didn't. She didn't, wouldn't kiss him back, but she let him force his mouth onto hers, force his tongue in with hers, breath his hot, alcoholic breaths into hers. She felt his cock, too, firm and straining against her pussy just as it had done that first night; exactly as it had done that first night. She felt the same wet warmth spreading through herself, too. She broke the kiss.

"You fucking pig," she sneered straight into his ear. "You son of a bitch pig, let me go."

He did. Mouse was stunned. He had simply let her go, dropping her to the floor. She bruised her ass as she landed, then scampered back, suddenly frightened. It hadn't hurt much, but it shocked her. And it did hurt. She glared up at him, not knowing which made her more angry, his behavior at the party or the fact that he had really dropped her and hurt her.

His hand went to his belt. He unbuckled it. For a moment Mouse was afraid that he might actually use it on her, intending to whip her with it. Michael quickly released the buckle to unzip his pants and drop them, and his underwear, to the ground. He stood over her, with his engorged cock held erect over her like a scimitar.

He bent to roughly pick her up. She made a show of resisting, but she let him lift her, not just to her feet, but into the air again. He held her against him, supporting her ass with one hand, just as he had that first night. It was just like that first amazing night. His cock, now free of his pants, pressed wonderfully into her belly. She could feel it's heat and hardness and girth and length. She could feel it all perfectly.

It was happening again. Their first fuck was happening again.

They were face to face. Mouse screamed at him. "Don't you fuck me, you bastard. You can't fuck me. I hate you."

The words came out, and the passion was there, and on some level she meant it. But saying it was agony. Inside her body screamed at her to take him inside of her. She wanted to beg him to tear into her.

His free hand worked it's way to the crack of her ass, where it found the edge of her leotard. He tore it and her panties aside, stretching their fabric. Mouse could feel how hot and wet her cunt was. She had leaked sweat and her own cum into the crotch of the leotard. It had already started when she was dancing, thinking of her first night with him, so it was soaked. It was mostly slick with her cum.

And then his cock was in her again.

"You bastard!" she screamed, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. "You God Damn fucking bastard. Don't you dare fuck me, Michael. Don't you dare fuck your little sister!"

Then she was bouncing, bobbing up and down on his cock as he lifted and dropped her rhythmically. He was making her dance on his cock. She whimpered loudly, trying and failing to form more words.

She looked over his shoulder at their reflections in the floor to ceiling mirrors lining the far wall. The vast, empty dance room surrounded them. He stood in the center, tall and broad, naked from the waist down, his hairy legs and ass taught from the strain of holding them both up. Her own face peeked back at her, over his shoulder, a tiny angel's face beside his large demon's head, his bald pate shining in the harsh lights of the room.

Behind them, they as a couple were reflected again in the mirrors on the far wall, then again in the reflection of the mirror itself, then in the reflection of the reflection. There were thousands of them, thousands of coupled, fucking Michael-Mouse pairs, a huge dance troop rocking in perfect unison in a massive group fuck dance.

Mouse closed her eyes, focusing on the feel of his cock inside her. She felt it stretching her cunt lips and driving into the soft, hot flesh deep inside her.

"I hate you, Michael. I hate loving your cock. I hate the way you make me crave my brother's cock," she whimpered, softly now, her voice trembling.

His thrusts slowed, his violence subsided, but he still fucked her. He still lifted and dropped her in a slow, easy rhythm.

"You fucking pig, Michael. Don't look at other women. Don't think of me with other men. Only with you, Michael. Your little sister is only for you," she said, then she moved her head to kiss him.

The kiss was softer now. The anger was gone from both of them. Their tongues intertwined and danced. Their bodies intertwined and danced. Michael was a good dancer, Mouse thought, when given the right dance, and the right partner.

She felt Michael lift her higher, frustratingly letting his cock slip almost all the way out. He held her like that for a moment, before completely and abruptly releasing her. He'd dropped her again! She felt like she was falling, falling back onto his cock. She squealed at the sensation, reflexively grabbing his neck to catch herself. There was no need, because his hands grabbed her ass to save her easily. Then he lifted her and did it again.

A huge smile flowed across her face. The sensation was unbelievable. There was the constant feeling of losing his cock as he lifted her, then losing her grip on the world as he released her. She lost both ways, she lost his cock on the way up, she lost his embrace on the way down. But on the way down he filled her. He speared her on his wonderfully hard prick, catching her with it, saving her from the fall by ramming it deeply inside her.

She lived in a state of anticipation. He played his game completely devoid of rhythm, unpredictably, flustering her with maddening suspense. Every time she settled onto his cock, she'd hug him tightly, waiting for the moment when he would lift her off of him to do it again. Then he would hold her in the air, sometimes for seconds, sometimes only a moment, never the same, so she never knew. She'd float in the air in his grip, waiting to be dropped. And then she'd fall, her stomach would flip, and she'd feel his cock drive into her. She'd scream and squirm and grab him tightly, then wait for it all to happen again.

"I love you, you fucking pig," she said. "I love my brother. I love his cock. You're amazing, Michael, you're all I've ever wanted. You're all I'll ever want."

His one arm encircled her then, pulling her tightly against him, almost driving the breath from her. His cock stayed in her now. The amusement ride was over. He seemed to be pushing her down onto it, trying to drive it into her as far as it would go, trying to bury himself in her.

"Yes, Michael. Fuck your little sister. Fuck me good, you bastard. Fuck me good. Your cock feels so fucking good inside me, Michael. Please promise to fuck your little sister forever. Please."

Her words trailed off into screams at the end as she started to come. She wailed and writhed. Her back arched. She drove her cunt against him, trying to help him, trying desperately to get him even more deeply inside her. She felt him stiffen and thicken as blast after blast of painful pleasure shot through her body, driving all of her muscles into wild, tense contortions.

Suddenly he lifted her up, not part way, but all the way up and off of his dick. He held her with both his strong hands, hanging in midair, just for a moment. Then he set her carefully but quickly down onto her knees beside him.

She looked up at him in frustration and confusion. He grabbed his cock in his own hand and squeezed it. A blast of cum immediately shot into the air at the mirror. She followed it with her eyes before catching a glimpse of both of their reflections. She saw an army of Michael's shooting their cum for her.

Puddles and drops landed on the ground before her. Her hand shot out to grab his cock now, to hold it herself as it stiffened further, jerked and he came again, and again. She watched them both in the mirror. She watched her army of lovers as each little Mouse held each giant Michael, and each Michael delivered another stream of cum for his sister. The last drops didn't travel far, they didn't even leave his cock, instead dribbling down the sides onto her fingers.

When he finished she licked him clean, slowly and carefully. She made a show of wiping the drops of cum onto her face, and then from her face and fingers into her mouth. She wanted to show him that she forgave him, that she really did still want him, totally and completely.

How had he done this, she wondered in a fog. She was angry at him. She was furious with him, and in a short while he'd reduced her to being his loving cum slut, she thought. In a way she always had been, though, since she had known what cum was. She was always his little sister cum slut.

When she'd had enough she stood up. She reached out to him and he lifted her off her feet again. She knew what he wanted. She wanted it, too. She reached down to guide his cock inside her again. Then she reached around his neck and held him tightly.

"You're mine, now, Michael. You proposed to me, you're my fiancee, and you're going to be my husband. And I'm going to be your little sister bride, and you can't ever let me go. I'll never have another cock again. Only yours."

She kissed him then, gently, and rested her head on his shoulders, still skewered by his cock. He stood still, holding her ass and her back. She looked again at them in the mirrors, at all of the sweaty, exhausted Mouse and Michael couples. They all looked happy, all of them. A thousand Monas smiled back at her, their faces gleaming with sweat and cum. She could see a contented trace of a smile on all of the Michael faces, too, but they were mostly somber and intense and spent.

They stayed like that for quite a while. Mouse worried that Michael would tire. He didn't. He was quiet the whole time. He hadn't said a word, she realized, since she had pushed past Jeff and Tania in the snow.

He finally spoke now.

"I'm sorry, Mouse, I'm so sorry," he pleaded, still holding her in the air, his eyes still closed. "I never wanted anything with them. I never wanted him to touch you. It made my skin crawl, thinking of him or anyone else touching you. Even her. I don't want her to touch you. I don't want to see you touching her. It's never been like this for me; nothing even close. And I know I've never been the kind of lover with anyone else that I am with you. I'm shit in bed, unless I'm with you. You make me feel and do things I can't believe. I don't know where it comes from. It doesn't come from me. It comes from you. It comes out of me, through me, from you."

He was looking at her now. She searched his eyes frantically. Her heart beat frantically.

"I don't ever want anyone else to touch you. And I have no interest in that slutty little blonde." Michael's voice was firm and forceful now. He was regaining control of his emotions. "But I don't think I can make you happy. I'm afraid that sooner or later you'll realize how boring I am. I couldn't even dance with you at the party. You flutter around, appealing to everyone, being the center of everything, and I fade into the wall hoping not to be noticed. And I always, easily succeed. Face it, I'm boring."

She pressed her head into his chest, knowing how hard this was, knowing how hard it was to admit his weaknesses to his nasty, perfect little sister. She'd spent her whole life pointing his flaws out to him, showing that she thought less of him than he did of himself. Bitch, she thought, turning on herself. She hugged him tightly, burying her hair in his neck.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he repeated, but as less of a plea then a statement. "I wanted to keep things exciting. I wanted to be able to share you, to let you do whatever it took to keep you happy and interested in me, to keep you from losing interest in me. But I can't. I can't share you. And I know it's not what you said you want, and I was stupid. I didn't know what you were thinking and feeling. I was out of touch, and I was wrong. You didn't want something like that, I know, you only wanted me. You only want me. I know that."

He was rambling, and he didn't have to say another word, but Mouse let him continue. She liked just holding him and listening to his voice, no matter what the words were saying.

"But you also have to know that I never wanted it either, Mouse. I didn't want it. I never want it. I want them to stay away. I want everyone to stay away."

He eased her away from him, just enough to look into her face. Mouse looked up with her eyes tearing again. God, how she hated crying, she thought.

"I can't believe," she said sternly, "that you remembered to follow the rules." She gave him a childish grin.

He laughed with her, spinning her once, quickly, in an impromptu, dizzying circle.

"You're my beautiful, sweet, perfect little sister. My darling, sexy, loving, delightful little sister. And I want you, only you. I want to fuck my amazing little sister, and I want to be the only man you'll ever have and love."

Then he kissed her again.

Like always, it was more amazing and fulfilling than the last.
Read it all at Mouse: A Sinful Love Story
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Old 12-06-2009, 08:28 PM   #3
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From Chapter 2, Book 1 of Mouse: A Sinful Love Story

Quote:
Just once more, she thought. She would only be here for one more day. She could have two more nights with him. Then she'd return to Chicago, and it would never happen again. But she could have her brother now, the way she'd always wanted him, the way he took her last night. For just two more nights, she could give in to her desires, and be his, be more than just his little sister.

His eyes were smoldering. She wasn't sure if it was with desire or anger. For a brief moment she was both afraid and excited by the thought that he might grab her, to hold her, to stop her from dancing. She wanted both. She wanted her brother to stop her, to tame her. And she wanted her brother to hold her, to possess her.

She wanted him to touch her, any way he wished.

He didn't move. He stood there, holding her gaze, arms at his sides, the beer bottle forgotten, dangling by the neck from the fingers of one hand. Mouse continued to dance gently for her big brother. It was all for him, intensely sexual and for him. She made it clear with her gaze now irresistibly locked on his face.

He still didn't visibly react. He didn't touch her, or move with her. Mouse dropped her gaze to his abdomen. She eased her body forward. Swaying from side to side, she brushed her nipples across him several times. She closed her eyes as she did it, enjoying the feel of her brother's body against hers in that soft, indiscrete, dangerously incestuous touch. Then she looked up at him again, more shyly this time, feeling less secure.

Michael raised his hands to find her shoulders, then dropped them again to his sides. He stepped back abruptly, conflicted, and dropped down again into his recliner.

* * *

When the song ended, Mouse picked her own beer up from the coffee table, pausing to take a long drink. She glanced briefly, sidelong, at Michael, then looked away around the room, then down at the ground. She seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable, for a change.

This wasn't easy for her, either, Michael thought. He wanted her. He knew he did, he'd admitted it to himself, and after her dance, he struggled to stay away. She wanted him, too, obviously. But they both found it hard to cross the line now, the one that had so easily vanished the night before.

Despite their lust, neither could dive so eagerly into incest again.

She eased over to him, then supplely climbed into his lap, straddling him in his chair. Michael abruptly dismissed the thought that she'd give up. It was difficult for him, but not her.

She'd had to hike her short skirt up to get her legs apart and around his. Michael felt a wave of panic, along with a seizing thrill, as she exposed more of her thighs, as well as her pubic hair. She hadn't worn panties, again, or had taken them off at the bar. A wave of heat at her crotch pressed against his legs. He fought back the desire to feel it pressed instead against his shameful erection.

The next song began, and Mouse swayed again, now on his lap, even as she took another sip of her beer. She did this for some time, dancing just above him, on him, with her eyes on his. It was all eerily similar to the night before, but with their roles reversed.

His beautiful baby sister held his gaze with her intense, dark brown eyes, her black pupils widely dilated in the dim light. She was looking at him as if she were waiting, patiently waiting, for him to snap like before. Michael maintained his composure, refusing to surrender to his lust.

Mouse did as he'd expected her to do, and had been quietly wishing she both would and wouldn't do. She leaned forward, slowly, deliberately, to touch her lips to his. He didn't dodge, or push her away. He should, he knew he should, as his sister tried to kiss him.

At first it was so soft and gentle, it was almost as if they hadn't touched, as if there was a paper's width of space between them the whole time.

He didn't react. Her lips started moving over his, still gently, still with whisper soft touches. She found his upper lip with hers, then his lower, then the corners of his mouth. She pulled back a moment to look into his eyes, then continued her gentle lover's attack.

Michael felt his hands resting on her hips, not knowing how they'd gotten there. She felt so warm and slight in his grip. Her narrow waist, with a sudden curve expanding outward into the wondrous shape of her ass, filled his hands as she rocked gently in time to the music.

He became conscious then, too, of his stiff cock straining out toward her. She deliberately pressed forward and down on it with her hips. In a panic he knew she felt it, that she knew his composure was a lame masquerade.

Michael tried to avoid finally yielding to Mouse's soft, warm, teasing lips by thinking about her as his sister. She was his little sister. Her kisses were incestuous.

He saw her in his memory as a little girl. He remembered helping her with math. Like the time she'd said she had decided she wanted to marry him, he thought, then realized his mistake as it gave him a sudden thrill. He remembered picking her up from dance lessons when she was young, then pictured her again seductively moving for him, last night, and tonight. He pictured her in her prom dress, remembering belatedly how beautiful and sexy she'd been, and how desperately he'd wanted to kiss her then, too.

Her tongue was in his mouth now, and his own tongue had responded eagerly on its own, dancing with hers. It was the one way he felt comfortable dancing with her. He didn't even remember opening his mouth to her, letting her tongue find his. It just happened while he was thinking about her, his little sister.

As she took her mouth away Michael felt a painful longing grow in him. She looked at him lovingly. He knew he must be looking at her the same way.

"Don't make me beg, Michael," she breathed at him. "I will, if it's what you want. I'll beg for you."

Then the shameless Mouse came out to play. She took her bottle of beer. She pressed the neck of it to her breast, casually rubbing the rim of the bottle around the rim of her nipple, firm, dark and easily visible beneath the fabric of her tight dress, straining toward him at the peak of the delicious curve of her breast.

Mouse tipped the bottle. Beer flowed over the dress, over her nipple, soaking it. The fabric clung more tightly to her skin. It became more sheer, clearly exposing the deep, dark outline of the perfect circle of her nipple in the center of her perfect breast.

Michael felt himself irresistibly drawn toward it, as Mouse's free hand reached around the back of his bald head, pulling him into her chest, drawing his mouth over her wet nipple. He tasted beer mixed with cotton. He felt the fabric against his tongue, along with the hard resistance of her erect nipple. The soft flesh of her breast pressed against the sides of his mouth and face, giving way pleasingly as she pulled him harder against her.

My sister's nipple, Michael made himself think. He'd thought it would stop him, but it only excited him further. My sister's tit. My little sister's sweetly magnificent tit, he thought, and suddenly his mouth was hungrily sucking at the beer, trying to get her completely into his mouth. His tongue probed harder, licking beer from the fabric. He heard a sharp intake of breath, telling him that she enjoyed the sensation as much as he did.

* * *

Mouse's eyes shot open. She stared at the ceiling, feeling a whimper rising in her throat. She fought it back, afraid of frightening her brother into coming to his senses. She failed. The sound escaped her throat as a short, high-pitched, erotic squeal. Mouse was delighted when Michael responded by moving his hand up from her hip to cup her other breast.

She pressed herself into him, grinding harder, one tit in his hand, the other in his mouth. Mouse began a gentle rocking motion, fucking his mouth with her nipple and her tit, while rubbing the wet patch between her legs against anything she could.

The moment he withdrew his mouth she found it with hers again. She relished that kiss most of all, tasting the beer in his mouth, finding his tongue, then whimpering into him as his tongue pushed hers back and invaded her, tangling frantically and uncontrollably with hers.

She broke the kiss to smile at him wickedly. With one hand she pulled the top of her dress down below her one damp breast, then poured a healthy stream of beer over her bare tit. She moved the bottle to drench the cloth of her dress on the other side as well, exposing that nipple's dark shadow to him.

Mouse held his eyes as she did it, then his gaze was drawn to the beer glistening on her flesh. Finally he dove on her, licking and sucking the beer from her skin with a satisfyingly animal lust.

Mouse laughed and squealed at the feel of him, delighted that she'd driven her stale big brother into such a passionate state. She enjoyed the game, and played it longer, spilling beer on them both in the process. It dripped down onto his crotch. She looked at the wet patch spreading there, and in a sudden loss of control, she knew she had to play the game herself. She emptied the bottle onto him.

She was on her feet a moment later. He reached out to her, trying to keep her close. She held his hand in hers, gently, signaling that she couldn't be parted from him, either. She circled around behind his chair. He kept his eyes on hers, and she on his. Once behind him, she agilely crawled over his shoulder, sliding down his chest and stomach, inverted, to press her face against the hard, hot, damp crotch of his pants.

"Mouse, no," Michael whispered.

"Yes, Michael, yes," she whispered back, sounding like a little girl, but one overly excited by a woman's lust.

Then her mouth tasted the beer, and felt the pleasingly hard bulge beneath it. Her hands found the buckles and snaps of his pants quickly and easily. She expertly pulled his waiting cock into her hands as he reluctantly moaned encouragement. His hands, Michael's beautiful hands, had found her ass, where his fingers were squeezing her flesh tightly, almost painfully.

As she took her brother's cock into her mouth, she slipped one leg over his head so that her cunt would be in his face. She raced her mouth over his cock, eliciting more powerful groans from her brother, before teasing him with her dirty thoughts.

"Lick my pussy, Michael. Lick my tight, little, mouse hole."

He did as he was told. She hadn't worn any panties. His thickly muscular tongue easily found it's way inside her. She screamed with his cock in her mouth as she felt his touch. His strong hands gripped her harder, pulling her violently against his face. His tongue twisted and searched, trying to penetrate her deeply. His lips found her cunt lips, and her clitoris, nibbling and sucking everything delightfully.

Mouse fought the urge to speak more, to remind him of their incestuous relationship. The thoughts, the act, the thoughts of the act, all excited her immensely. She wanted to convey it to him, to excite him with it, to share her feelings, but she couldn't risk frightening him. Not yet, not when his cock had only been in her hands and mouth for a moment.

She gently made love to her brother's cock with her mouth, now. She took her time, enjoying the feel of it against her lips and tongue for the very first time, her loving brother's thick, long, deliciously wicked cock. She ached to make him cum, imagining it filling her mouth, but knowing she wanted more than that tonight. In time, she willed herself to release him.

Mouse pushed her head up off of his lap, simultaneously driving her cunt more firmly against Michael's face. He responded by thrusting his tongue further into her. She screamed her satisfaction.

"Oh, Michael! Oh, Michael! Wicked Michael!"

She twisted suddenly in his grip, falling free, almost to the floor, laughing like a child as she did it. She smiled up at him as she spun around to sit on his lap again, this time facing away from him. She took each of his hands in hers, holding them as she twisted her head to kiss him again.

Mouse moaned into his mouth as soon as their lips met, then pressed his adored hands against her breasts. He squeezed them roughly, making her moan ever more loudly into their kiss. She felt his cock, hard and hot, between her legs, pressing against her greedy, hungry cunt.

She needed him inside her. Mouse reluctantly released his hands. He left them covering her tits, squeezing and fondling them ceaselessly. Her own hands found his cock, her brother's cock. She lifted her hips enough to guide him into her, then settled slowly, deliciously slowly, onto his cock as it impaled her. A soft whimper escaped her throat at first, but continued, growing to a squeal and then a full scream, once he had completely filled her.

"Oh, yes, Michael. Fuck me. Fuck your baby sister like you should," she wailed, finally, recklessly exposing her thoughts to him.

In response Michael bucked his hips, either to move inside her, or simply to penetrate her further, Mouse was unsure. The effect on him and her was electric, though, as they both felt her big brother respond energetically to her pleas.

"Yes, Big Brother, yes. Fuck your little sister whore as deep as you can."

"Fuck my tight, little, mouse hole, Michael. Fuck my incestuous, little hole."

He groaned then. His sounds were like music to Mouse. He was bucking rapidly now, driving her closer and closer to orgasm. She felt herself losing the ability to think, to focus. Everything shrank and constricted to the feel of his cock pressing against the flesh inside her cunt, and the wet, slippery feel of it sliding inside her, tugging gently, teasingly on her clit as it did so.

As if he knew what she was feeling, one of Michael's large, fantastically sexy hands slid down her body to find her clitoris. The moment he touched her she exploded, no longer aware of what she was doing.

"Oh, God, Big Brother. Oh, God, I love you! I love you! I love your beautiful, forbidden cock, Michael. I love it, I love you, I love my brother's cock..."

* * *

Her words and screams were driving all reason from him. Her body felt so amazingly supple and soft in his hands, and so small, so easily manipulated. He felt a wicked power course through him, like he could do anything with her, anything to her.

She was his sister. What he was doing was so wrong. He was fucking her, and he loved fucking her, and he was never going to stop. He was going to find a way to fuck her harder.

Michael moved his hands back up to her sweet little tits, squeezing her entire body more firmly against his own chest, pinning her there. Then he stood up, with his cock still inside her, as she screamed more loudly. The sound was thrilling.

He carried her that way a few steps, to the couch, then lowered her onto it. She whimpered as his cock slipped out of her. She quickly climbed to her knees, lifting her beautiful round ass to him, wiggling it whorishly, beckoning to him with the pink, glistening flesh inside her open cunt.

"Please, Michael," she whimpered, crying. "Please come back inside me. I need my brother inside me."

He relished the onslaught of screams she made as he satisfied her need, plunging violently into her to drive her down onto her belly on the couch. He grabbed one of her shoulders in each hand to hold her steady, then thrust himself into her with his hips as hard as he could, over and over, quickly, almost cruelly.

The words that came from her mouth were tangled and tortured, almost incoherent.

"Oh, Michael, don't ever stop. Promise you'll fuck me like this forever. Promise you'll fuck your baby sister again and again, tonight, tomorrow, forever."

She repeated the plea over and over, reminding him how evil their act was, but begging him to accept it. He listened, fucking her ceaselessly, but silently.

"Please, Michael. I adore your cock. I love your cock. I've always loved you, your eyes, your hands, your body, your cock. I have to have my brother, Michael, please promise I'll always have my brother's body and cock."

Michael hadn't intended to make any promises. He told himself over and over, just this once, he could do this just this once, he had to do this just this once. Then he felt his cock stiffen and convulse. Mouse's pussy was so tight and hot against it, he didn't know how he'd lasted this long.

"You can't marry me, but you can fuck me," she squealed between quick, labored breaths. "I'll be your whore, Michael, just like you said I was. You and Mel called me a whore, and I am."

The mention of their older sister jarred him. He felt wicked and dirty, fucking his baby sister. He could see in his mind the look of shock and horror Melanie would have on her face if she caught them.

But he longed to stay inside Mouse, and to fill her with his cum. His little sister's cunt was so tight and sweet. It enveloped his cock with a hot, drenching, grip that sucked everything out of him. He ached to come inside her. As if sensing it, she begged him for it, too.

"Michael, come in me now, Michael, I need my brother's cum in me now. Fill me with incestuous cum, Michael, make me an incestuous whore by filling me with my sweet, loving brother's wicked, hot cum."

Michael felt the soft skin of her ass meet his hips each time he thrust into her, then the soft fleshy resistance of her cunt near the end of each stroke. Her words brought the cum up, into and through his cock in a moment. It burst from him in a delightful, nasty, unstoppable feeling of complete and total release.

"Promise me, Michael! Come in your sister and promise her you'll come again," she screamed. "Promise me you'll fuck me full of your cum again!"

"I can't, Mouse, I can't. You're my sister, my beautiful baby sister."

"I'm your whore, Michael, my brother's little whore."

"You're my sister, Mouse. My fucking sister, I'm fucking my fucking sister..."

The words, the admission of his own guilt, drove him over the edge. Michael couldn't contain himself as he came again and again into her, his cock jerking each time as it shot more of his seed into her. He couldn't bite back his next words. They exploded from his mouth of their own accord.

"Yes, Mouse, yes, I promise, I have to fuck you, I need to fuck you. I love my little sister, I love her cunt, I love filling her with cum. I'll cum for you, in you, whenever you want, Mouse, I'll fill your tight little mouse hole with your brother's cock and cum whenever you want."

* * *

He lay on top of her, panting, sweating, pressing her down into the cushions of the couch with his bulk. Mouse lay beneath him, enjoying the smothering, protective feel of his body over hers. She panted herself, trying to recover, and to regain her wits.

She was afraid it wouldn't have been possible, that nothing could match their previous night, that she'd be disappointed. She wasn't. It did. It was every bit as sensual and wonderful and memorable.

The words had poured out of his mouth like the cum pouring from his cock, warming and filling her. They came in an amazingly wonderful series of growls, animalistic in their intensity and honesty. She knew it was true, that it was how he felt. She knew that he loved her, too, and that from now on she would have him always.

Her brother would fuck her again, and again, and again.

Mouse hadn't wanted to come herself. She'd told herself before this started tonight that it was only for him, that she wanted to be with him only for his pleasure. She couldn't let herself enjoy it too much. She couldn't let herself come, let alone try to.

She did. She had to. He had made her come with his intensity, and his promises.
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