章 933: PISCES' IMAGINATION (@2)
- Previously -
"Raymond," dad's tone changing and using my full name warn me of the seriousness of the words that were about to follow. Mom's cancer, mom moving to hospice, the drive home after mom died, 'the talk,' and his dating Rose all started the same way.
"You're old enough to understand that some people live different lifestyles," dad stammered to explain, "Some are very faithful to their religion; others prefer to follow a different path. Where most relationships are between a man and woman exclusively, others could be between two men, two women, or perhaps more."
"I'm not gay," I chided defensively, "If that's what you're asking... and I know several people who are who would be offended by the assumptions you're making."
"No," he replied, dropping his head, "That's not what I'm asking or saying."
Looking back up at me as he said, "And if you are, that's ok. Being gay is not a lifestyle choice... I mean, it is for some, but it's more biology than anything else."
"Are you trying to tell me you're gay... or bi?" I asked.
Dad shook his head, looked down, and growled, "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about... why do you have to make this kind of stuff so difficult."
"I'm not trying to be difficult," I replied, hoping to sound as diplomatic as possible, "But you do understand, the only time you want to talk to me... in your office is when I'm in trouble, or you have bad news to tell me."
He looked up, his eyes had softened, and he nodded as he said, "You're right... I guess I didn't realize that... I'm sorry... but... it's not bad news... I think... sorry, this is not easy for me... so... give me a second... ok?"
I nodded, wondering if he somehow knew what Laila and I had been doing all weekend, looking around their bedroom in my mind, trying to find a hidden camera of some kind, then expanding my mental search to every other room in the house.
"Rose and I spent the weekend with her family," he started to explain, "They live a very different lifestyle than most."
"How so?" I asked.
"Well," he hesitated, "For one... they are nudists, and... they express their love for each other in non-traditional ways."
"That explains Rose's tan," I offered as a verbal compromise, "What do you mean non-traditional ways?"
Dad responded to my comment and not my question, "She wanted to change her hair color, and I suggested she go back to her natural color... the same color she had when I met her and her mother."
"You said you and she and mom were close when you were younger," I presented as a peace offering, not backtracking to the question he avoided answering.
Dad looked down at the ground again, muttering to himself before looking up, declaring, "Ray," his words trying to escape before exploding from his chest like an old steam whistle venting an engine on the edge of rupture, "Your mother is my first cousin. And Rose is your mother's daughter from another man... your mother's father... Rose is your half-sister and your mother's half-sister... and her daughter."
Looking up at me, his eyes tense and serious as he detailed, "Laila is your half-sister too... she is mine... my daughter... with Rose... which also makes her your niece... and your aunt... fuck it gets more complicated the more I think about it."
- Backstory -
Ok, well, if that doesn't provide a frame of reference, try this; until that moment, I knew Laila as my step-sister, the daughter of my dad's second wife, Rose. While dad and Rose were dating, I got bits and pieces of their history from dad whenever he tried to sell me on how wonderful Rose was; but obviously, he didn't tell me everything.
Back then, he implied Rose was a close friend of my mother's, not her daughter, from her father, and he never even implied Laila was his daughter with my mother's daughter/sister.
I met Laila the night dad had gone out of his way to make the house (and me) extra presentable under the guise of a quiet dinner with Rose, where he proposed to my mother's sister/daughter. Rose accepted as Laila, and I both watched in shocked disbelieve... not knowing our, or their, familial relationships at that point.
The last week of March, I obtained a love potion called Aries' Horn that would allow me to have sex with Laila whenever I wanted, as often as I wanted, without her knowing I was there. The talisman was not real. It was an elaborate scheme created by Laila to show me she loved me; the only way she knew how.
Not long before dad and Rose returned from their weekend with relatives (an event with new and perverse imagery associated with it), Laila told me her deepest, darkest secret. Her previous boyfriend belonged to a sexually abusive fraternity, and he pulled her into his world, where they broke her will and brainwashed her into being their free-use sex slave.
What they did to her might be why Laila was so willing and eager to spend the past two days having a two-person orgy with me. They had brainwashed her into believing letting her lovers have free access to her sex was how she was supposed to feel loved.
I think it surprised both of us to find out I have the same sexual endurance of an entire sex cult and having such undocumented super-powers; I unknowingly broke Laila's will again and discovered just how much I loved her at the same time. Frankly, I didn't know I had it in me; I mean, most of it was her always wanting more from me. I was just trying to keep up, and what we did to (and for) each other that weekend may have broken me as much as it broke her.
She willingly agreed to be my sexual submissive and insisted I use her sex whenever I felt like it, or more specifically, when I wanted to remind her that I loved her. After being more than sexually intimate with her all weekend and after she explained what made her become a love-confused nympho, I found myself wanting to make myself better and help Laila be a better version of herself.
After she detailed her trauma to me, then fell asleep next to me on the sofa, my mind had been seeking out an appropriate penance for my intended crimes against her. My spine shivered when I realized I had not committed any crimes against her she did not invite me to commit. Instead, it would be an even greater crime if I did not spend the rest of my life trying to help the woman I loved... a future where if I succeeded in helping her grow into the woman she could be, she might no longer need me as her best friend and lover.
- Three Weeks Later -
It's been three weeks since my half-sister, step-sister, aunt, and I became lovers. And the same three weeks since my dad entrusted me with the bombshell revelation of our true familial relations.
If you don't mind, I'm going to keep this simple and just refer to Laila as my sister or my lover, even though she means far more to me than those monikers convey.
Anyway, according to the Internet, the Moon moves into Pisces today, and that's supposed to mean something. Ever since I researched the aphrodisiac Aries' Horn, astrological references litter my news feeds. Today is supposed to be a day to be sensitive and insightful of my surroundings. I may experience insecurity and feel passive as I wait and see what happens in my life. If I engage in a creative or spiritual search, I'm supposed to benefit from Pisces' imagination. And, according to another site excerpt, when the Moon's in Pisces, it's all about 'fantasy.' I should feel particularly creative, dreamy, and maybe a bit out of touch with the world.
Well, most, if not all of that was right, only about three weeks late. After dad read me into our family's secrets, he made me swear to keep them from Laila. What he shared lacked the details I wanted, passing on a little more to me than what he had blurted out. Since he first shared his secret, he's repeated the story differently, each revision offering a little more information.
Mom and dad met at a family orgy. The same orgy where he met a just turned eighteen years old Rose. Apparently, due to our family's inbreeding, half the family members are sterile, and the other half can reproduce just by looking at each other; at least, that's what dad told me. Dad, mom, and Rose won the family breeding lottery, conceiving both Laila and me over three days of non-stop sex with each other and other members of our extended family.
I specifically asked if I had any other half or full siblings out there, and I believed him when he said he didn't know for sure. No one had contacted him, suggesting he was the father of their child, and he was pretty confident mom didn't have any children other than Rose and me. He had a large family of full and half-siblings and, like my mom, a collection of first, second, and third cousins.
All of his stories reaffirmed that Rose told him Laila was her only child.
Dad also told me Rose and her mother/sister had some personal conflicts, which he was not privy to, which Rose used as her excuse to leave after mom and dad announced their engagement. Rose moved away, staying with and raising Laila with some other family cluster, not knowing she was pregnant when she left, let alone via her mother's/sister's soon-to-be husband.
When mom's cancer manifested, dad found and contacted Rose. The last few months of mom's life brought mom, Rose, and dad closer together, and one of the bone marrow tests we all took proved my dad was Laila's father, therefore my half-sister... and aunt.
Anyway, dad swore me to secrecy, at least from Laila, and ever since, I've been walking on eggshells... no, that's not an apt description... I've been walking a fine line between purgatory and hell. One foot always on fire, the other unable to find solid ground to stand on.
Think about it; I can't tell my dad and Rose that Laila and I are fucking like rabbits (more like wild Bonobos) any and every chance we get. I also can't tell my lover that we shared the same father or that her mother and I share the same mother. Therefore, Laila is my step-sister, half-sister, niece, and aunt, while Rose is my half-sister, aunt, and step-mother.
Dad was right; this just gets more complicated the more I think about it.
That astrological stuff was right too, just late, as I have become just as intimate with insecurity; as I have with Laila. Everything I've done for the past three weeks feels passive, silent, always making sure I'm unseen or keeping as low a profile as possible while I nervously wait and see what happens. Even in my classes, I try to hide from everyone and hope to blend in, constantly worried they might discover the secrets I keep.
Dad and I have grown closer since dad told me of our family's in-breeding history. When we're alone or Laila's attending one of her classes, the two of us joke about how our family tree is more like a bush. He's told me about some of our relatives, but I can never keep them straight because it seems like he keeps telling me the same stories, with different names. He's also got repressed anger issues about our family's secret incest legacy. I can tell he feels like he's stuck with a family he doesn't like and only interacts with them for Rose's sake.
Yet, when the topic changes to Rose or Laila, he talks with such pride and reverence about them; it's clear he loves them both as much as he loves me.
What's not fair and only adds to my stress is that I can't tell him about Laila's need for me to be sexually affectionate (borderline abusive) and incredibly intimate with her. A shared secret she finds thrilling and one I fear every time we're together. It's hard to be a loving coupling when I spend so much time and effort keeping our shared sexual affections secret from our parents.
Dad gets to share his life experiences with both Rose and me. Not the same things, but since he told me of our family's legacy, he now has two different people to work out his emotional conflicts, verbalize his thoughts and release some pent-up stress.
Laila confided in her friend from the real estate office, Joann, and they talk all the time... mostly about me and the perverse things I do to my sister sexually or the things she wants me to do to her. Something in the back of my mind wonders if Laila is trying to convince Joann to trick or trap her brother into becoming her lover too, which adds to the burdens I've been carrying around for three weeks.
I don't have anyone to talk to about the mess I'm in... except for you. Thank you for taking the time to let me vent... to express my thoughts, feelings, and perceptions in the only way I can.
And, please don't get me wrong, I love Laila more than I love myself, and the fact that she's my slut... my nympho is perhaps the most amazing part of our relationship. I'm guaranteed all the sex and sexual release I want whenever I want... somewhat guilt-free. But, just because our relationship is seventy-five percent sex does not mean I don't love my sister more than anyone or anything in the world. I enjoy spending time with her, playing video games, watching a movie, binge-watching TV shows, going shopping, or just sitting across from her at the dinner table where I can admire her beauty and share in her successes.
Successes I like to think I have a small part in fostering. That first weekend, the second day she became my submissive sex toy, I fucked her while Laila wrote a paper for one of her classes.
I told her it was good, and I was right. The TA read it, passed it on to the professor who called Laila, didn't email her; the professor called Laila during dinner later that week and asked if Laila would let them keep it and used it as an example of the quality of work they expected from their students. Describing Laila's paper as one of the best they had ever read.
- Changes -
Related to that success, we have added a new routine to our secret lives. I fuck my sister or dine on her pussy when she's doing her homework, and she sucks me off when I'm doing mine, or I fuck her from behind with my study materials on her back. Our secret sibling sex is stressful beyond belief, but I enjoy slowly working my cock in and out of my sister's cunt or ass, too much to worry about it sometimes. Casually and comfortably sodomizing my sister while she's studying, assuming dad and Rose are watching TV in the family room or perhaps doing the same thing their children are in their bedroom.
I looked down at my sister's upturned skirt; her tanned butt cheeks spread open my by fingers and thumb, watching my cock push, pull, tug and stretch her anal ring while her fingers blurred across her computer's keyboard. She had complied with my directive three weeks ago, always wearing skirts, except when wearing a bikini or nothing at all. She continued to signal her anal sex readiness with an inserted butt-plug, letting me know she had prepared herself for the kind of sexual penetration she preferred.
The pantyless rule proved impractical as her pussy was constantly drooling around me, or my cum was leaking out of her cunt. And, instead of undressing for me, which she did quite often when she came home, my sister would usually enter my room from her side of the Jack and Jill bathroom, lift her skirt, and removed her panties before gifting them to me. Followed by her going down on me or simply freeing my cock and impaling herself on my almost always ridged cock as I sniffed her panties or caressed what naked skin was accessible.
That was something else that had changed. I was always horny; I mean, I have been since puberty, but since Laila and I became lovers, it seemed like the moment my penis smelled her approaching, or I took a long sniff from her gifted panties, my cock was up and ready to feel her engulfing it.
And she had done as she promised, training my body through persistence and perseverance to the point where, when the conditions were right, she could get me to cum for her five times in fifteen minutes.
"Millennium is spelled wrong," I said, glancing up at her screen.
"No, it's not," her butt-clenching a little as she stopped to confirm my discovery.
"It is," I confirmed, "The spell checker has a bug. I've seen it before. There are two Ls and two Ns."
"Are you sure?" she teased, wiggling her ass around my penis inside her rectum.
"I am," I replied, thrusting a little harder until I suggested, "change it to one L and one N, and I bet it flags it.
She did, and it did, then it corrected to the spelling I suggested.
"Thanks," she offered to resume her work as she suggested, "I knew this was going to take a while, so I used two enemas... you can switch off if you want... I know you like my pussy more than my ass."
"I will love you any way you want me to," I replied, "and thank you," I added, pulling out, checking my cock was clean, before sliding it into her always hot, slippery, and silky pussy.
"Don't cum yet," she directed, "I need another ten to fifteen minutes; then I gotta go."
"Cum first, then go," I joked, "Got it... and fair warning," I added, "It's going to be a lot... my balls haven't felt this heavy since you drained them this morning."
"Put it all in my pussy," she replied casually, "I want to feel you dripping out of me all day until you can fill me up again when I get home."
A creak from the hallway made me twitch, the fear of discovery making both of us pause like two timid mice, mentally preparing to bolt if the doorknob rattled or twisted. After a tense moment, we both resumed, Laila, working on her paper, and me working my cock deeper and deeper into her cunt with long slow, purposeful penetrations followed by equally enjoyable retreats.
I hate having to sneak caresses and tender affections behind our parent's back or while around the few friends we shared. I also hate having to lie to Laila about what I know that she doesn't. And my new greatest fear added to my existing fears; how she might react when she finds out and what might happen afterward is constantly tickling and taunting the sleeping horrors in the back of my mind.
I guess that all means I'm sensitive and perceptive of my surroundings... and I am a bit out of touch with the world... after all, Laila has become my world. Maybe that astrology stuff is right; I could use spiritual guidance to find balance and harmony between my fantasy world loving my sister and the domestic façade I have to keep up around Rose and dad.
I also have a newfound respect and understanding for my dad, something I was not expecting. Walking a tightrope between two secret lives has granted me an insight into the life he's lived, dealing with, and adapting to the ramifications of his actions and all the baggage those secrets bring with them.
I enjoy fucking my sister. I enjoy cumming in my sister, but I also enjoy moments like this when my penis can slide in and out of her cunt, then switching off to her ass, and it embracing and massaging my erection in ways her cunt couldn't. It's like all of my nerve endings meet or start inside my penis, and everything it feels inside her, I feel it all over my body. Almost as if I had crawled inside her. Engulfed by her heart and soul, and not just a few inches of blood-engorged flesh inserted into her silky sheath.
She closed her laptop when she finished, and in what had become our norm, I withdrew from her ass and inserted my cock into her cunt, then I took my time worming Capricorn, her glass butt plug, into her eager browneye.
She braced herself with both hands on her desk after laying an oversized iridescent stuffed fish she kept near her desk for just these occasions. A youthful prize Laila almost donated until we discovered its sound-absorbing properties trying to keep our secret from dad and Rose.
Laila pressed her face into the foam-filled scream swallower to prepare for what we were about to share. I resumed fucking her cunt, my penis having learned where and how to stimulate her secret button at least two weeks ago. My finger then circled the outer edge of Capricorn, making it sing into her ass.Laila's muffled screeching was almost inaudible beyond the foam rubber stuffed fish. Its mouth opening and closing as her head rolled from side to side. The stuffed fish's mouth released only a small percentage of her vocalizations when she climaxed, her orgasmic screams going from zero to 60 in less than one second.
The harmonic reverberations from Capricorn singing in her ass washed over my cock inside her cunt. It felt as if the vibrations were suckling my entire length, both inside and out at the same time. Deep in the center of my cock, I could feel Capricorn serenading both of our sex organs at the same time, all the way down to my balls, making the pubic hair covering them stand up.
Just as fast as Laila peaked, my balls were clenching and my cock throbbing as my penis began streaming massive squirts of my cum into my sister's womb.
My body jerked, her body convulsed; she stopped breathing just as I had when we both climaxed together. I had no muffler over my face, so necessity required I remain silent as my muted grunts announced every injection of my seed into her infertile womb.
This routine had become part of our relationship. We both knew how to do this to ourselves and for each other. A massively intense rapid release and instant relief using tools and techniques that worked every time. I got what I wanted, Laila got what she wanted, and we both shared what we needed to give our lovers.
"Fuck," she puffed after snapping up a volume of air. "Ray," she cooed, "I love you so fucking much... can we just... be rich and not have to go to school or hide from our parents... I want to live in a mansion where you can fuck me all day, and when you're not fucking me, I can fall asleep in your lap sucking on your cock after filling my tummy with your cum."
"We already do," I replied, "In my imagination... we've been there for three weeks... long before the Moon entered Pisces."
"You mean before your penis entered my moon," Laila teased.
"That too," taking a half step backward, when Laila insisted, "No!... Stop!"
She pushed herself back, her cunt swallowing my not yet deflated cock, directing, "I need a pad and some panties."
"Again?" I groaned, pushing my cock back into her, blocking my cum's exit from her vagina, "You know how much I like seeing my stuff leaking out of you."
"And you know how much like feeling you inside me when we're apart," she replied, both of us remaining attached as I followed her hunched over form toward her dresser.
Finding a pair of panties in one of the drawers, she extracted a feminine pad from the package next to her underwear. Stripping off the sticky tab, she pressed it to the crotch of her panties, then bent over even further, curving her ass up and allowing me to push my penis deeper into her. I held her hips as she stepped into her absorbent pad-infused panties and backed out of her when she raised them to her hips.
I watched her ass wiggle as she quickly squirmed into her underwear. She dropped, then straightened her skirt as she turned and smiled at me. "You know I need to feel you inside me when I'm not with you. Having your love soaking into a pad and knowing my pussy is swimming in your stuff is what helps me pay attention in class."
"I love you too," I replied, pulling her close for a tender oral exchange. After a moment, she dropped to her knees, sucked my cock clean, then gently returned my penis to its hiding place behind the zipper of my shorts.
Standing up again, she caressed my cheek, asking, "When do you get home?"
"Late," I replied, "My Group Speech group is meeting in the library tonight."
"If I'm not awake when you get home," she said after kissing me with her hand on my cheek, in a very erotically domestic way, before directing, "You know what to do."
"Laila," I said her name, reaching for her hand, twisting her back around to look at me when she tried to depart. Staring at her for a moment before I said, "I love you, but... I need something more from you."
"You have all of me," she replied, concern flashing in her eyes.
"I want to spend time with you," I countered, "It seems like we've gotten into a routine of fucking, studying, sleeping, eating, fucking, going to school, then fucking again."
"Yeah," she nodded her agreement, perversely smiling as she replied, "I agree... we're not fucking often enough."
"No," I countered, a little louder than I intended to, "I want to spend time with you... because I like being with you... not just because you let me fuck you whenever I want... or whenever you want... I want to cuddle, snuggle, talk or play some video games or watch a movie like we used to."
"Oh," she nodded, "Ok... Fuck me when you get home tonight, then we'll do whatever you want all day tomorrow... It's Saturday, and my mom and your dad are going to be home, so we may not have much choice."
Laila saw the concern beyond my eyes as she quickly added, "I know you need more than sex... and I guess I do too... but you know sex comes first with me."
"I know," I smiled, nodding my acceptance of her honesty as I released her arm.
She caressed my face again, tingling my spine as she cooed, "I love you... I do, and I am trying... I really am trying to learn how to love you the way you want me to."
"I love you too," I replied, my hand reaching down to her skirt, feeling the pantyliner between my hand and her cunt, pushing it tighter to her groin as I confirmed, "And I will love you the way you want me to as often as I can..., but I will always want more."
"Everything I am is yours," she replied, kissing me again, before gathering the last of her things, declaring, "I've got to go. Joann's meeting me at The Bunker for lunch before class."
"How's she doing?" I asked.
"She's been having dreams about her brother since I told her about you and me," Laila replied as she walked toward her door, "I should have her tell you about them." Her hand grasped the knob, and she looked back at me as she said, "You're good at telling me what my dreams mean."
"Your's are easy," I replied, "they are always about how you relate sex to love."
"I know," she glowed," stepping into the hallway, leaning her head back past the door whispering, "Sometimes I can't wait to fall asleep to find out who my subconscious wants to share with you," before blowing me a silent kiss.
- I told you it was confusing -
I heard Laila shout her departure to Rose as I passed through our shared Jack and Jill bathroom and into my room. Normally, or at least what would have been normal three weeks ago, I would set up some porn on my phone or my laptop and masturbate while imagining doing to Laila what I had just finished doing to her.
But not today.
Also, today would normally be my day off from school, having set up my school schedule before the semester started to have Fridays off. But like everything else for the past three weeks, nothing was normal. I had reluctantly agreed to meet with my Group Speech group at the library. Being unemployed and parent supported meant I had to adjust my schedule to accommodate those that worked for a living.
I still had a few hours and decided to start some laundry before raiding the refrigerator for lunch. After setting up the washing machine, I entered the kitchen to find my mother's younger counterpart, Rose. My mother's daughter and sister (after my mother was impregnated with Rose by her father) biologically my half-sister and aunt, and non-biologically my step-mother after marrying my dad.
I told you it was confusing.
"I made lunch for us," her twenty years older perky voice announced.
"Us?" I replied.
"It's just you and me," she smiled, "Your father had to go meet with a client," she detailed, "And I just heard Laila leaving for school."
"If you don't I mind," I suggested, "I'll eat in my room."
"No, you won't!" Rose insisted, "Get us some drinks, then sit down over there," pointing at the kitchen table, "I want to spend some time with you... we never talk, and you know we should."
We had a brief staring contest that my recent secret-keeping sensitivity made me lose.
I searched the fridge for sodas as Rose impaled our ham and swiss sandwiches with toothpick skewered green olives. We exchanged hostages, one of the drinks I carried for one of the plates of food she carried; both of us sitting down at the round kitchen table at the same time.
"Ray," she smiled, "You've been avoiding me, haven't you?"
I nodded, and she assumed, "It's because your father told you we are brother and sister, isn't it?"
I nodded, taking a bite of my sandwich, not wanting to lie and unwilling to share the whole truth.
"I know this is new to you, and... may be challenging for you to accept," Rose continued, "Is it because we're related and I married your father, my mother's husband, or is it because of Laila?"
My eyes shot up from staring elsewhere, glaring at Rose, wondering if she knew when her hand reached out to mine. Caressing the back of my fingers as she said, "She's changed since she told you about what happened to her in High School... for the better."
I continued to stare at my mother's eyes on Rose's face, and the mouthful of food I had yet to swallow remained unmoving as she suggested, "She trusts you, and that means more to me than I can say. You've helped her when I couldn't or because she wouldn't let me."
Rose paused for a moment, her eyes drifting past my face as she thought to herself. I swallowed just before she resumed, "I'm not going to ask you to tell me what happened to her... but," she conditionalized, "I need you to promise me you won't hurt her... she trusts you now, and I'm not sure what she might do to herself if you break that trust."
"I..." coughed, then cleared my throat before I replied, "I would never do anything to hurt Laila intentionally."
"I know you wouldn't," Rose replied, her fingers caressing mine again. She paused to stare into my eyes, my mother's loving expression on Rose's face invoking long-forgotten memories, making my heart skip a beat.
"Ray," her fingers stimulating my hand on the table as she said, "I know this is hard for you, and I wanted to thank you for taking care of my daughter. I know she's your sister, but I will always consider her my daughter first, no matter how complex our relationships are. I appreciate what you've done for her... to help Laila help herself, and I wanted you to know it has not gone unnoticed. You have helped her through something very difficult, and I wanted to know... that as her mother, I approve, and I don't want you to stop whatever it is you're doing or saying to her to help her deal with whatever happened to her."
Rose paused to take a breath but didn't break eye contact when she resumed, "I want to know everything, but I'm not going to ask. I'm just happy she's talking to me again like she used to."
Rose's shoulder's dropped, her confession seemingly lightening her burdens as Laila's mother.
Rose's lips smiled, and her eyes were glowing in much the same way Laila's did when she saw me after an extended absence as she explained, "Laila talks to me as her friend again, and not as her mother, and... that means more to me than I think I can explain."
Her hand squeezed mine as she declared, "I just wanted you to know... I've seen the way she's grown closer to you over the past few weeks and... and I'm ok with you two being as close as you are. Whatever it took to break through to her, to give me my daughter back to me... I'm ok with it... does that make sense?" she added with a questioning expression.
"Why did you leave?" I blurted out without filtering my thoughts.
"Our mother?" she questioned, "Is that what you mean?"
I nodded, filling my mouth again to stop myself from engaging in conversation.
"I was jealous," she replied, sounding far more sincere than I expected and much more mature than her youthful appearance implied. "I loved your father as much as our mother did, he was my first lover, and I was heartbroken when he asked mom to marry him and not me... I was young, stupid, and... in love... and I didn't know I was pregnant with Laila when I left, and I, honestly, didn't know your father was Laila's father until the bone marrow donor tests."
Rose's hand clamped down on mine as she professed, "I've loved your father since the day we made love for the first time... and the second time... and the third... and at some point, during that weekend of love and lust, your father and I conceived Laila... and... I guess the same thing happened between him and our mother." Rose's eyes penetrating deeper into mine, reminding me, and maybe herself, "Ray, she was my mother too."
I felt a new connection to Rose at that moment. One I hadn't considered or accepted, realizing, or finally accepting my mother was Rose's mother too, and she had to have felt what I felt when mom died; maybe more so, having had at least eighteen years with her, that I didn't.
"Great," I thought to myself, "More guilt to carry."
"I'm sorry," I spoke aloud.
"For what?" Rose questioned, gently squeezing my hand under hers on the table.
"I've been so caught up in my own problems," I replied, "I never thought about how my mom's... our mom's death affected you... I didn't consider your perspective."
"You didn't know what I know," My mother's soothing tones coming from Rose's lips, "At least not until a few weeks ago."
Rose, smiling at me, the depths of her understanding crystal clear as she said, "Your attention has been elsewhere... on Laila, and I can't thank you enough for what you've done for her. Helping her dealt with whatever happened to her."
"You remind me of her," I confessed, "Our mom. You look like you could be her younger twin," I added, "Especially since you changed your hair color."
"Thank you," Rose glowed, squeezing my hand tightly before retracting her arms and grasping her sandwich. Raising it to take a bite, she said, "Your father says the same thing." Pausing her sandwich lift, asking, "Does that bother you? That I remind you of our mother?"
I thought for a moment. Staring at and studying Rose's face after taking a bite of her sandwich, re-processing my new understanding of our maternal relationship.
"It used to bother me," I replied honestly, "And... I will admit, I didn't want to like you because I saw you as dad's replacement for mom... but," I inhaled slowly, "I see that was wrong... and right... and I think I understand more than I did a few minutes ago."
Spewing words from my mouth as my brain processed the revelations of three weeks prior, I rambled, "Dad loved mom, and I can tell he loves you too. I'm sure part of the reason is that you remind him of her... you are so much like her... and knowing the secrets he and you have been keeping... it all kind of makes sense," pausing again, feeling the confusion on my face as I muttered, "I think."
"You're just like him too," she cooed lovingly after swallowing what she had just chewed, "I knew it the moment we first met, and I can see it in your eyes, and I hear it in your heart and in the way you're caring for Laila."
What followed was an unexpected open dialog about mom, dad, love, life, and memories of our mother. I think Rose helped me finally experienced the catharsis I needed since mom died. Letting go and allowing myself to share my mom with my half-sister Rose, cutting the chains of several emotionally heavy bags I had been carrying around since mom's expected death.
The realization that I had a sister I could share my mother's memories and feelings with was a spiritually uplifting experience I was not expecting, especially considering the mood I had been in for the past three weeks. I'm not saying there's anything to Astrology, but, still... so far, the Moon moving into Pisces seemed to be following someone's plan.
"Ray," Rose offered above our empty plates and drained soda cans, caressing my hand again, "I know you love Laila... I can see it in the way you look at her and how she looks at you; I know she feels the same way... if you two are sharing your love physically, sexually... I'm ok with that too."
"I... I..." stammered, Rose's hand squeezing mine as she interrupted, "Ray... its the way I grew up. The way our mother grew up. I'm ok with family loving family that way, and I know our mother would be ok with you loving your sister that way too... both of your sisters," she added. The same hungered look on her face and in her eyes that Laila expressed when she needed to feed on my sex.
I stood up, the chair grumbling to the floor as it slid backward. I couldn't help but stammer again, "I... No... wait... what?" as I stared down at Rose's loving, slightly desirous expression.
"Ray," she replied calmly, cooly, seductively, "The men in our family have needs... as do the women and... if you need help satisfying those needs, I'm willing to help... I want to help," her eyes lowering to my shorts and her hand reaching out to caress my groin.
"As I said," Rose explained, her fingers caressing around my zipper, searching for my sleeping penis, "It's the way I was raised... sisters making love to their brothers and fathers loving their daughters and mothers making love to their sons... it's all so... natural to us... and it could be for you to... if you want."
I staggered back, the chair behind my knees bumping into the cabinet behind it as Rose's eyes smiled lovingly at me. I turned away, mindlessly following the buzzer to the laundry room, unable to verbalize the multitude of thoughts and revelations in my head, let alone bring them together as a coherent string of rational concepts.
After moving my laundry to the dryer, I silently returned to my room, my ears on active patrol listening for Rose as I wanted to avoid seeing her again, at least until I processed my father's wife's unexpected offer.
The stress of having to keep another secret had my insides vibrating. Making the moral battles bruising my ego even more challenging, and, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop fantasizing about Rose's offer.
I saw myself on top of my father's wife, or more specifically, my half-sister under me, wearing my mom's approving, comforting, maternal expression whenever she bandaged a "boo-boo." Then I saw Laila's nakedness hosting my mother's face repeating what Rose said in the kitchen, "...mothers making love to their sons... it's all so... natural to us... and it could be for you to... if you want."
Then I remembered the predictive passages from my morning news feed, reminding me that I should expect to feel particularly creative, dreamy, and maybe a bit out of touch with the world.
Shaking off the creative merging of memories, I noticed my cock was hard, and pre-cum was sliming my underwear. With the uncomfortably erotic idea of having sex with my other sister and my father's wife, who looked like my mother, I gathered my school stuff and rushed out the door.
- Bound to love -
Turned out the group project would be better than I expected. Most of the time, one or two people are stuck doing most of the work in a group project, which usually means me. We were able to break up the assignment into cleanly compartmentalized work which held each person responsible for their efforts. We worked late into the evening, and it was well after dark when I departed campus, but it was a productive effort, and we agreed to teleconference our next session.
The best parts of the night were not the quick and genuine camaraderie that seemed to form between several of us, nor the punny humor we all shared about our randomly assigned subject. No, the best parts were when Laila sexted me every ten to twenty minutes. Wonderfully graphic and up-close pictures of her various body parts as she masturbated. Laila's messages expressed her hunger for my sex with each new image of herself in a mirror or from her outstretched arm.It was not the first time she had sexted me while I was at school or away from her for an extended period. A few weeks ago, after we started to settle into our secret lover's routine, Laila had interpreted my directive that she could not climax unless I watched to include sexting images of her masturbation sessions to my phone.
The last image had me intrigued as it showed my Laila (naked as usual) wearing a black collar with an attached leash, dangling fuzzy handcuffs, and a ballgag from her raised hand, followed by the message, "Hurry home... your love slave is eager to be used by you."
The air was comfortably warm though slightly moist when I exited my car. I parked next to Laila's in the driveway, and wanting to try and sneak into Laila's room without dad or Rose knowing I was home, I quietly walked around toward the back of the house. The waning crescent moon was nothing but a thin sliver below the treeline, casting malnourished shadows. I stumbled along the blackened pathway on the side of the house, relying on my memory until unexpectedly bumping into Laila's lounge outside my window.
It didn't slide away and scream across the concrete as I expected it to, but I did hear it release a muffled grunt. The wind kissing the trees swayed the canopy just enough for the Moon's dim light to outline Laila's naked body face down on the lounge. Flashes of lunar reflected sunlight sparkled from the handcuffs behind her back.
I knell down, wordlessly caressing her back, her arms, then her butt cheeks and thighs. My hands took turns exploring her naked flesh in the dark, pulling and pinching her nipples a few times through the slatted plastic straps under her chest. When my tender finger caresses finally pushed their way between her thighs, I found her pussy was wonderfully wet and slimy, having worked herself into an ultra-excited state of arousal waiting for me like she was.
My fingers found little resistance entering her cunt, and my thumb penetrated her pre-lubed ass with equal ease. Wanting to reward her for her gift, I teased and taunted her secret button between her vagina and rectum with my fingers and thumb. She wiggled, squirmed, and silently moaned into her gag as I led her to the edge of her first climax.
When she started to peak, I pushed her secret button from both sides. Her entire body started to thrash around like a fish out of water, and her gag muffled shrieks and screams traveled no more than a few feet before the night's darkness consumed my lover's vocalized pleasure.
I love making Laila cum, and as such, I made her climax over and over again until I could feel the sweat from her back and butt cheeks mixing with the lube around her anal ring. By this point, my cock was more than ready to enjoy itself inside Laila, and I freed it from its zipper-bound captivity. I kicked off my shorts and underwear, then straddled the lounge chair. Bending over to lift her hips, I felt and enjoyed the moist warm night air breezing between my butt cheeks and caressing my balls as I locked her knees between two of the soft plastic slats to keep her from sliding back down.
I blindly guided my cock by feel alone into her silky cunt, then started rocking my hips back and forth as I slid in and out of her freely offered sex hole. I fucked her like that through at least two butt-quivering and thigh-quaking climaxes and continued to do so until I was almost ready to cum.
Then I pulled out and gave her what I know she wanted, my cock in her ass. After releasing her knees from the slats, I stretched out her legs, then used my hand and fingers to locate her cheeks, teasing and poking her slippery asshole for my enjoyment, not necessarily hers.
I prefer to watch my cock forcing its way past her resistant anal ring, but I could not see a thing in the light-deprived shadows. My cock found and slipped between her buttcheeks without visual guidance, then the head of my still cunt slimed cock found her brown knot by feel alone, stretching open her backdoor as it slowly pushed into her rectum.
I took my time, savoring the feeling of Laila's super-tight anal ring fighting back against my impalement. When my balls finally felt her cheeks, I pushed my weight down on her, stretching out my legs behind me, flattening her out on the lounge before I began to ride her ass the way she asked me to, like a stallion mounting a mare.
I fucked her ass until I came, hearing her climax at least once, or maybe it was one long one, her overlapping peaks seemingly merging behind her muffled mouth.
Spurting several squirts into her ass as I quietly grunted from behind her hair-hidden ear. I caught my breath while still on top of her, kissing the back of her neck, savoring the salty taste of her sex-infused sweat before I dismounted. Kissing one of her butt cheeks only because the sleepy moonlight highlighted her ass when I picked up my shorts. The darkness returned when I walked under a tree. I used the light glowing from a bug zapper at the far end of the yard reflecting in the pool to guide my way to the back patio and, appropriately enough, entering the house through the back door.
The kitchen and family rooms were dark, and the house silent. The door to Rose's and Dad's bedroom glowed at the bottom, and I could hear their shower flowing, which made my brain skip ahead to later that night, wondering how Laila would free herself.
I shook off the unnecessary fear assuming she had a key hidden somewhere nearby. Remembering she was the one who told me she wanted me to do to her what I had just done, "then walk away," her voice in my head reminding me of her direct instructions several weeks ago.
I entered my room just as silently as I had the back door. Relying only on the nightlight in the bathroom, I stripped, then gave myself a quick cleaning per Laila's instructions, which is when I heard her quietly moaning from the other side of her door.
"That was quick," I told myself.
I peeked past her bathroom door to find Laila with one arm and hand above her, her climax glossy eyes staring at her phone as she massaged herself through another climax. A bright red ball gag in her clenched mouth silenced her panting grunts. After her peak, her arm relaxed, flopping on the bed. After a few panted breaths, she looked at her phone again, and a few moments later, my phone buried in my shorts on the floor of my bedroom beeped. I returned to my room, digging it out to find a short video of a collar-wearing, ball-gagged Laila repeating the performance I had just seen through the doorway with the caption, "Hurry home... I can't sleep without your cum in me."
- You're not wrong -
I instantly realized I had just fucked Rose outside my bedroom window, not Laila. I rushed over to the window, and in the dim tree-shaded moonlight, I could see dad's shadow bouncing up and down on top of Rose, fucking her the same way I just had done a few minutes before.
Yes, there is something perversely intriguing about my father fucking my sloppy seconds inside his wife and my half-sister, but that was not something my mind focused on at that moment. My mind was on Laila and how I may have just fucked up everything by fucking my lover's mother in the dark.
I stealthily returned to Laila's door, watching her once again filming herself as she fucked herself with the monster dildo that had become my DP partner with her over the past couple of weeks. When she closed her eyes to cum, I carefully slid the pocket door opened and entered her room. I found two pairs of handcuffs on the nightstand, and Laila opened her eyes when I captured one of her wrists with the metal bracelet.
Her eyes opened to me, and her face glowed. She said something unintelligible behind her ball-gagged mouth, which I pretended to ignore as I secured her arm to a bedpost. I took her phone, laid it on the nightstand. I then took her other freely offered arm and secured it to the other bedpost.
Sitting next to her spread eagle nakedness, I used one hand to reinsert the slightly oversized dildo into her pussy. Laying flat and face up on her bed, Laila's pubic mound stood above her penetrated slit. My other hand caressed and filled itself with her fur, feeling the firm bulge of her groin under my fingers and palm. I could also feel the dildo moving in and out of her vagina under her triangular patch of fuzz.
After playing with her for a moment, I leaned forward, kissing, then capturing one of her nipples with my lips; my teeth gently pulled and tugged on her puffy morsels as I continued to work the faux-penis in and out of her cunt.
After snacking on both of her breasts a few times, I rolled her over. Laila's arms, still handcuffed to the bed, crossed under her facedown head. She was comfortably limp and unresistant as I arranged her body the way I wanted to. I shoved a pillow under her hips, then wedged her favorite dildo into her pussy.
Her butt wiggled and squirmed, silently calling to me as I searched for and found Capricorn's box in her nightstand. The crystal butt plug sparkled as I twisted, turned, and studied it in my hand. Her skin cringed and recoiled from its cold touch as I ran it across her skin. Drawing a heart on her back, starting and finishing with the three moles aimed at her butt.
A bottle of lube was within reach, and I enjoyed a perverse satisfaction when her butt cheeks clenched as I injected several squirts between her butt cheeks. Her cunt contracting so tightly, it ejected the dildo onto the bed.
I worked it back into her, her hips swerving and bouncing up and down as I reinserted it into her hungry hole. She whimpered and moaned into her gag and never tried signaling me to stop. I fingered the lube around and into her anal ring. I also moved the dildo in and out of her at the same time. My finger met the silicone substitute inside her several times, activating orgasms that shook her entire body, accompanied by muted curses and moans into her gag.
I let her body recover as I continued to toy with her ass, forcing her anal ring to swallow or disgorge Capricorn. Like I've said before, I get an odd satisfaction watching her sphincter stretch, pull, and compress as I worked a butt-plug, dildo, or my cock in and out of her ass.
I eventually made sure Capricorn was firmly seated before I began to make Laila's restrained body dance as her glass dildo sang. I had become a maestro at playing Capricorn and Laila's body over the past three weeks. I could control how long and how intense her orgasms were. I could induce short quick peaks, or hold a specific harmonic constant as my finger circled the glass plug's edge, thereby keeping Laila's orgasm at a specific intensity for as long as I wanted.
Her butt danced under my mastery of her climaxes, and I could make her muffled moaning curses of pleasure sound like an opera or a love song at will.
I continued to play her as I leaned forward, whispering into her ear, "I fucked your mother."
- Happy Place -
Well, that's what I wanted to say, but the stress of exposing my overlapping secrets prevented the cock hardening words from escaping past my lips.
Instead, I merely puffed, "Cum for me slut... and when I'm bored of making my sex toy cum, I'm going to eat your pussy, then fuck you until I cum."
Laila gagged voice whimpered her submission to my desires into the mattress, her body relaxing, accepting her role as my cum climaxing set-pet and personal slut.
I enjoy watching Laila cum, especially when she has no choice under my domination. I used Capricorn and the dildo to make every inch of her flesh ooze sweat. Tiny sparkles of refracted light scattered across her flesh, symbolically representing her complete and total submission. Willingly giving in to my perverse desires to prolong her visit to sexual nirvana.
She didn't pass out, and she didn't squirt; I had learned how to prevent those things from happening unless I wanted them to. Instead, I exhausted her to the point where she could only whimper tears of pleasure from her eyes and pant through her nose, as the rest of her body went limp when not enduring an orgasmic seizure.
Drowning in a moat of personal loathing, I took my frustrations out on Laila's sex. I'm not sure how long I let my climax-inducing abuse play out, Capricorn singing into her ass, my fingers taking turns with the dildo inside her cunt. When I stopped, I left Capricorn locked behind her anal ring, rolled her over, her depleted face and closed eyes looking up at the ceiling when I replaced the dildo in her cunt with my reawakened cock.
She had either passed out or fallen asleep or was somewhere in between. It didn't matter; I had explained to her at least two weeks ago that my owning her sex meant I could take her anytime I wanted, including when she was unconscious.
I pushed her limp legs up and squeezed them together after easily and effortlessly penetrating her cataleptic pussy. Her vagina was loose, nowhere near as tight as she usually was; nonetheless, its silky embrace was made better by the hard glass plug in her ass; and being inside her was all my cock wanted.
I took my time, staring into her closed eyes and submissive expression, my arms embracing her merged legs, pushing them toward her head as my hips bounced against her thighs while my erect penis savored sliding in and out of her.
After a while of fucking her limp body and having placated my cock's desire to be loved temporarily, I withdrew, ignoring Laila's dream-released disappointed moan before my face traveled down her upturned legs. When I got to my destination, my hands spread her thighs apart, holding her knees and thighs separate and back as my tongue lapped up her slimy sex juices.
"God, she tastes and smells so good," my inner thoughts confessed, "I want more of this... a lot more."
My oral efforts induced several unconscious body-twitching climaxes from my sister, but none anywhere close to the intense ones Capricorn singing into her ass generated.
"She's had her three, and then some," the darker, self-serving side of me declared, "She feeds on my sex all the time, it's my turn," encouraging me to continue my oral buffet, which I did.
A never-ending flow of pussy cream coated my face as my subconscious tried to climb into her tongue first. Laila's bosom was my happy place when I needed to hide from the world and the stress of our secret affair. But, burying my face between her thighs, tasting her cunt, feeling the frictionless folds of her labia around my lips and tongue became a place where I could let my inner demons run free. A place where I could visit my sexual fantasies without guilt. Or, perhaps, stimulated my sexual urges to the point they superseded rationality or imprisoned the voice of my personal Jimminy the Cricket in a cage, so I didn't have to bother justifying to myself what I was doing to my sister's sex.
Lapping Laila's labia lured me into a labyrinth of lewd and lustful longings to lay with both Laila and her mother, my other sister. My penis, ignored for too long, leaked more and more sex droolings into the carpet of Laila's room.
The fog of necessary penetrative sex returned. Rational and coherent reflections were pushed aside by the imperative need to cum inside my sister... my sister, with her mother's face. A near-perfect reflection of my mother's face when I was a boy... suffering from early puberty.
A tiny voice in the back of my head said something. It came from somewhere deep, so repressed I only became aware of it when my desire to mount and fuck Laila pushed my sane self aside. My instinctive animalist's need to mount my sister and inject my seed into her womb lead me to a tiny voice I had not heard since I was a child, "Can I have another hug, mommy?"
- Anger -
I stood up, holding Laila's legs up and apart, looking down, watching as my cock penetrated her soft glossy parted lips.
Then I fucked her.
It was an angry fuck.
I was angry at myself for loving my sister. And for allowing myself to take my unconscious sister without her permission, just as I had started doing three weeks ago. My guilt was tightening around my soul when I remembered someone had brainwashed her into becoming a submissive sex toy, and I was taking full advantage of their sadistic conditioning.
I was also angry with myself for not limiting my desires to only one woman, Laila. I could not stop myself from wanting to repeat what I had done to Rose with Rose. Wanting to do and share all the things I had done to and with Laila with my other sister. The wife of my father and the mother of my lover.
And, I was angry because part of me wanted both of them because they looked like my mother. Enraged because I remembered enjoying snuggling up to my mother as a post-toddler, her pulling me to her chest to comfort me whenever I had a nightmare or suffered some forgettable trauma at school.
I loved my mother, and now, my lust for Laila and Rose had transmuted and merged, mixing into a confused and conflicted amalgam of deviant sexual desires and a pure and virtuous love that went far beyond physical intimacy.
When I looked down at Laila, I saw she had awakened from her exhausted stupor. My lover's face and eyes were replicating my mother's. A calm, loving, and approving expression of pride burned into my heart whenever I cuddled next to my mother after waking from a nightmare. A maternal expression of love I had not seen since laying next to my mother in her hospice bed. A painful memory that triggered an incredibly emotional climax.
Emotionally confused, soulfully hurt, and engulfed in a love for Laila that matched or surpassed the love I felt for my mother, I grunted several angry ejaculations into Laila.
Afterward, the sex-hungry monster that had torn down the carefully constructed walls separating my mother from my lovers crept back into the dark areas of my brain. My mindless lust monster suddenly slept after feeding on Laila's sex, after taking advantage of her programmed complacency, and uncaringly leaving behind a battlefield of personal trauma I was going to have to clean up.
I didn't want to look at Laila or my mother's loving eyes forgiving me, and fortunately for me, I didn't have to. Laila had fallen asleep again. While her face expressed a calm and contented serenity I knew I would never experience personally, I felt shame.
I was ashamed of what I had done to my lover, not only three weeks prior but just now. I had used my lover's unconscious body to take out my frustration in a sexually abusive way that had to violate some moral law or at least a legal ordinance.
I was also ashamed of discovering I secretly lusted for my mother.
That revelation reminded me of another guilt; I had just fucked Laila's mother, my father's wife, and I didn't have the personal strength to share that the woman I loved or the mental fortitude to confess my sin.
Mortified that I had once again taken advantage of Laila's unrealistic perspective of love and sex for my selfish purposes, I pulled out of her. Gently lowered her legs, then, using the keys on the nightstand, I released and removed the cuffs from her wrists. Her non-responsiveness forced me to look at her, to make sure I hadn't fucked her to death or something.
No, I hadn't. Laila was asleep or breathing while unconscious, so exhausted, she didn't move or react when I removed the gag from her mouth or Capricorn from her ass. Her distant expression of contented bliss tattooed on her face like the Joker's permanent grin. Except I was the evil sadistic monster, and she was the hero trying to save me from myself.
I made her comfortable, or she seemed less contorted and twisted after put her legs together and her arms at her side; I then covered her with the bed's sheet and comforter. The guilt of leaving her sleeping in a wet spot of our taboo activities seemed trivial to the other spiny guilts stinging the space between my ears and churning my nauseous stomach.Do you ever get a whole body tingling sensation, something that makes you feel like you're vibrating when you're not? A feeling that you've done something so wrong your world would shatter if anyone ever found out. That's what I felt turning on the shower. And, no matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn't wash away the stains of guilt and regret knawing at my soul.
- Deja Vu -
Being a Saturday, my alarm didn't wake me; I slept in, gaining a few extra hours to allow my subconscious to process the events and revelations of the day before.
Not much had changed in my mind, but something had changed in reality.
Laila didn't sneak into my room early in the morning to feed on my sex. For the past three weeks, she would either sneak into my room sometime before dawn and snuggle up next to me and sleep, or suck me, or fuck me, before going back to sleep, in my bed, until it was time to get up.
Last weekend, Laila, having followed this new routine, had just drained my balls and was cuddled up next to me as I watched a recorded episode of FX's Legion. I could smell my cum on her breath as she slept, which enhanced the kinship I felt with the main character on the TV. Like him, I, too, constantly questioned reality as I fell deeper and deeper in love with someone who quite possibly only existed in my imagination. Since becoming Laila's source of sexual nourishment and finding out we shared the same father, I felt just as confused and questioning my reality as he did.
We also shared another trait; the constant fear of being found out, which had made me quite paranoid, especially when Rose walked in last weekend to find Laila snuggled into my shoulder under my sheets.
My spine instantly electrified, and my heart stopped for a moment when Rose opened my bedroom door without knocking. She stared at Laila and me, and I stared back, silently mouthing, "Nightmare," which it was. A nightmare I had experienced almost every time I slept with Laila next to me.
Surprisingly, Rose nodded and smiled parentally, quietly retrieving my laundry basket. Then silently closing the door behind her, after looking back one more time, nodding a strangely proud affirmation that her daughter had cuddled up next to her brother sometime during the night.
That was not the first time our secret sibling sex came close to escaping the confines of our shared silence, but it was the one instance that lingered with me every morning. That fear of discovery, one that mirrored a persistent nightmare of mine; one that always accompanied me into wakefulness, along with my morning wood, and usually Laila laying next to me or feeding on my sex.
But, as I said before, this morning was different; no Laila.
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Pisces' Imagination revisiting me from the day before, proposing, and leading me down multiple paths of self-destruction. Every path starting with me violently ostracized by my father for having sex with his daughter and his wife and ending with me spending the rest of my life alone and unloved.
All that, and the persistent guilt of remembering what I did to Laila and Rose the night before. Being with them, using them like I did, had changed the way I thought about my mom. I now equated the maternal and chasted love I felt for my mother with the sex I wanted to have with my sister Laila and her mother, my other sister, Rose.
My bladder needing drainage compelled me to get out of bed and use the water closet. Afterward, I washed up; I peeked in on Laila, finding her missing and her bed unmade. Her room was empty and silent, dimmed by her absent effervescent personality.
"I pushed her too far," I accused myself, staring at her empty and unmade bed, imagining every worst-case scenario simultaneously.
I returned to my room; the bright sun was shining outside, and my imagination hearing Laila and Rose talking just beyond my window pulled me toward their voices. Deja Vu struck when I found Rose sunbathing on Liala's lounge chair, as my lover used to, except instead of finding Laila in a small bikini, Rose was stretched out on the lounge, completely naked, bathing in the sun's warmth.
Being the first time I had seen Rose naked (other than in dim, shaded moonlight), I could not help but study her nudity. Rose looked just like Laila; her breasts were the same size, just a little less firm and sliding a little further along the sides of her chest. Her skin tone was not quite as caramel-colored, but a shade or two closer to Laila's than it was three weeks ago.
Rose also had no tan lines whatsoever. Laila had a few enticing sun shadows around her breasts and groin, but Rose appeared equally tinted everywhere, including an arrow of aqua-blue fur pointing at the same firm slit her daughter had. Rose's inner lips were a little longer and a little puffier, something I could tell only because of my close and repeated examinations of Laila's labia over the past three weeks.
I could not, not, stare at the junction where Rose's legs met, other than quick surveys of her breasts. I glanced upward to confirm she had the same kind of thick puffy nipples Laila did, but both Rose's nipples and areolas were much darker in color, most likely from her recent and current full sun exposure.
The furry arrow below her belly button pulled my eyes down to her slit, and sparkling sunbeams illuminated her glossy lips. Her moving hand caught my attention as it floated at her side, then crossed her hip, landing between her legs.
Without opening her eyes as she lay on the lounge chair, her fingers spread open her labia and retracted her clitoral hood. Rose's clit was bigger and a brighter pink than Laila's. Inflaming to a dark red as one of Rose's fingers teased and circled it while the others held her lips and hood back.
My hand found my cock, seeking it out without my awareness. Not knowing where Laila or dad was, a pavlovian need for ejaculatory release after waking took over as I watched Rose massaging her cunt. It wasn't a conscious decision to masturbate to the nakedness of my dad's wife and my half-sister, more like a repeated pattern instilled by Laila's recently normal routine to milk me every morning.
I didn't bother trying to rationalize my actions; I think I had accepted the realization that the past three weeks of near-constant secret or stolen sex with Laila had changed my biology, or at least my perspective about sex. And I found I had no issues to debate or justify to myself as I stroked my now erect cock as I watched Rose teasing and toying with herself, despite the self-induced emotional trauma I unleashed upon myself the night before.
Rose's legs opened, her feet dropping to the concrete patio below the lounge chair, exposing her blooming sex petals to the sun and me. I squeezed my cock a little tighter as I remembered what it was like to slide inside my father's wife. Fucking my other half-sister not knowing I wasn't fucking Laila.
Rationalizing to myself that I was trying to face my fears, I closed my eyes for a moment to remember mounting Rose the night before, on that same lounge chair in the dark. When I opened my eyes to admire Rose's self-satisfaction efforts in real-time, I discovered she had a lipstick massager pressed to her clit, and most of her body was silently twitching.
It had been over three weeks since I had used tissues to capture my cum while masturbating, and after that long of a time without self-satisfaction, I forgot where I kept the box for a moment. I found the tissue container and returned to the window to find dad on top of Rose. Her feet were resting on his shoulders as he folded her legs back and up. I had a clear view of his cock slamming into her upturned cunt, and her brown-eye winking at me when his balls weren't slapping it.
After a few minutes of his cock pounding her cunt, dad pulled out and merged her legs, holding both of her ankles up and together with one hand while twisting her legs to the side slightly. His other hand guided his cock to her ass, and I had a perfect view of his cock, stretching her butthole open, then sliding into her with ease and grace.
Rose's face glowed up at dad's as their eyes locked when he penetrated her. She bent her knees, opening herself even more to his anal penetration. The look of love and lust on Rose's face perfectly replicating the expression Laila shared with me when she watched me feed my cock to her eager and always hungry to be fed ass.
Dad and Rose's eyes remained locked on each other's; both were taking their time, enjoying themselves as dad's in and out movements transitioned from slow and gentle to fast, deep, and animalisticly intense.
Rose closed her eyes when she started to climax again. One arm helping to hold her legs up and closed, both trembling and shaking just like Laila's did when I made her cum. Rose's other hand pulled on one of her butt cheeks, spreading herself open, granting dad permission to penetrate her even deeper than he already was. Dad's efforts sped up seeing Rose opening herself to him, as did my stroking. Rose's repeated body-quivering climaxes spurred on both father and son.
Dad and I came almost at the same time as if he were my avatar in a video game; his hips matched my strokes as he thrust into Rose's ass, and my hand squeezed my cock. I squirted into the wad of tissue wrapped around the head of my penis, and dad spasmed his cum into Rose's rectum, holding his spewing cock at its maximum depth as his hips, butt, thighs, and lower back spasmed.
My breathing was deep and paced when I looked down to squeeze the tissue off my cock capturing and containing all of my gooey discharge. I looked up to see dad pulling out of Rose, and we both admired her gaped creampied anal ring as it slowly contracted.
Dad straightened and lowered her legs, then leaned over to kiss her flushed face before walking away, leaving Rose's sparkling sunscreen and sweat-painted body panting and mostly limp. A moment later, I heard a splash from the pool.
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