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Young Matthew Burke was in his room, lying on his bed, propped up on two pillows, whacking off. He had the radio set low on the Christian Broadcasting Station. Patty Jane was preaching a sermon about the redemptive power of God’s divine lovaaaah.
Matthew was holding a copy of Slut magazine open to page 39 which had a picture of a gorgeous blonde, butt naked. He thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever whacked off to. Her face was in profile; the forehead nicely rounded, the nose just slightly curved up. Pert is what he would have called it. There was a hint of blue in the eye, but it was hard to tell due to the angle of the shot. Her thick, wavy hair was fixed up on her head, really sexy.
She was sitting on her doubled-up legs with her round, firm ass resting on a pair of purple, spiked heels; her back was arched seductively, her small but shapely tits thrust out to a pair of hairy male hands. The rest of him was off camera. Matthew tried to imagine himself in the man’s place, reaching for those ripe, firm tits. His dick swelled harder in his hand just thinking about it. A tormenting tingle in his cock told him he’d better be careful and not squeeze too hard if he wanted to prolong his ecstasy awhile longer.
He slacked off, pacing himself. He didn’t want to blow this feeling.
He could hear the muffled voices of the family downstairs reading passages of scripture out of the Bible to each other. It was a mandatory family ritual always held at the dinning table after dishes had been washed and put away. His sister, Caroline, the oldest of the siblings, was down there, back from Appalachian State for a weekend visit; he could hear her gay laughter and bright voice reach up the stairwell. His brother John, the second oldest, with that deep baritone voice, was down there along with his two other brothers, Mark and Luke, the third and fourth born respectively. He should have been down there, too, but he had pleaded to not feeling well, and his mother had felt his head and said she thought he might be coming down with a fever.
He had a fever all right, and it was burning out of control right between his legs. His rod was reaching critical mass; a complete melt down was imminent.
He squeezed once more — too tightly he suddenly realized. If he loosened his grip even slightly he would cum all over the place. He knew from the intense pressure in his balls that it would be a squirter. The last time he had shot off, with that much pressure, his cum had hit the ceiling over his bed, a good eight feet.
He was hurriedly searching for something to wrap over his dick when he heard soft footsteps coming up the stairs and a gentle rap at his door. He only had time to pull a sheet over his naked body before his mother walked in.
She was holding a glass of water in one hand and two tablets of ground willow bark in the other.
“Here,” she said with a guilty smile, holding the glass out to him. “But don’t let your father know about the willow bark; you know how he is about medicines, even if they are of nature.”
He reached for the glass with his left hand, clinging fiercely to his cock with his right.
But you can’t beat the Lord.
For at the same time she held out her hand with the willow bark, an expectant look on her mature, pretty face, an older version of his sister, Caroline. “I shouldn’t be giving you these, but I worry sometimes that prayer may not be enough.”
Matthew opened his mouth and made an gah, gah sound.
“Oh, you big baby; I thought you had gotten over your aversion to swallowing these a long time ago.
Matthew smiled shyly and shrugged his bare shoulders.
“Well,” she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and patting his thigh, squeezing it just below his crotch. “They won’t kill you; and maybe they’ll knock that fever before it gets any worse.” She patted his stomach, a motion which drew the sheet tighter over the head of his cock. It was all he could manage to keep from cuming.
She popped one tablet in his mouth and waited for him to wash it down, then the other. She took the glass from him and set it on the night stand, then touched her hand to his forehead. It was soft and cool against his feverish brow. Her eyes searched his as if looking for a name to place on his illness.
She brushed her finger tips through his short hair. Tingling sensations raced down his spine straight through to his dick. It stiffened even more painfully. She leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek. She smelled of wash soap. Her soft, full breasts touched his chest. Her soft, cool hand moved down his chest, pushing the sheet down. She rubbed the palm of her hand over his belly; the motion sent shock waves to his cock. It was more than he could bear.
His body shook; ensest porno she drew back and, as she did so, the heat of their lips touched briefly. He could feel cum spewing out of his cock, cradling into a warm, wet goo in the sheet.
She leaned over to the night stand and flicked off the lamp.
“Better try to get some sleep,” she said softly, then she kissed his forehead as if he were still a little child.
When she was gone he got onto his knees by the bed and prayed for two hours to be forgiven for giving into temptation, promising, as he had so many times before, that he would never do it again and begging the Lord to take away this hunger in the flesh. But a persistent itch in his crotch made him wonder if anyone had been listening.
.
Early the next morning he heard the bustling sounds of everyone getting ready to leave for Sunday morning services at Mount Pentecostal Church of Our Divine Lord and Savior.
His mother came in, at one point in the hurly-burly, dressed in a long, conservative summer dress, and began fussing over him, praying for a healing, then making him drink a glass of fresh herbal juice that tasted like cow dung and vinegar.
“Caroline will stay with you just in case,” she said, fluffing his pillows as if he were an invalid.
“Aw, mom, I’ll be OK.”
He was already thinking about the blonde on page 39. If everyone was gone he could whack off without fear of interruption.
But it was not to be.
As soon as the sound of the family car had faded in the distance, Caroline sashayed into his room.
“Alone at last, huh, Matt?” she said, reaching out playfully and tousling his hair.
Being at college had given his sister more maturity. She was prettier now, much prettier than those fancy, secular girls– even without their make-up. Her thick, wavy, blonde hair hung halfway down her back where her waist seemed unbelievably narrow.
He had already achieved another fierce erection before she came in, and, in desperation, he held it pressed flat against his belly, with the palm of his hand, where it squirmed defiantly as if with a will of its own.
“Praise the Lord! What a glorious morning!” she enthused, going to the window.
She placed her palms on the sill and leaned forward peering out, her pert nose almost touching the glass. She was wearing a long-sleeved, white blouse with a pilgrim collar and over it a brown, shoulder-strapped, ankle length dress. On her feet she wore a pair of low heeled pumps with white socks.
As she leaned there, looking out, Matthew found himself examining her profile. She had a beautifully curved forehead and what would have been a straight Roman nose but for a very slight upward turn. Her lips were not what one would call full but were nicely shaped and puffed out slightly as if begging to be kissed. Her breasts were small but pressed enticingly against her blouse. The waist, as noted, was firm and narrow; the back had a proud arch below which a round, perfect ass jutted seductively.
With a shock, Matthew suddenly realized that his sister, Caroline, looked like the girl on page 39 without all the make-up. And with that realization came a revelation as to why he had found the girl on page 39 so particularly appealing. She was the embodiment of all the suppressed, incestuous fantasies that he had ever had for his sister but would never admit to himself for fear of incurring God’s divine wrath.
He felt his dick do a rapid series of flips into an unbearable, aching hardness.
God! He wanted to fuck his sister!
Shame washed over him but could not replace the flaming lust the thought had kindled.
He moved his legs apart to lessen the pressure on his balls, and, with horror, he heard the unmistakable sound of a magazine falling onto the hardwood floor. He had placed his copy of Slut under the sheet when he heard her coming up the steps.
He grimaced, sucking in his breath through clenched teeth. His cock died in his hand as his sister bent over.
She straightened slowly, her solemn face as unreadable as the Sphinx’s as she held the magazine before her with both hands and stared at the cover: a green-haired midget giving head to a superbly hung black man, cum flowing copiously from the corners of her mouth.
“I think I see the source of your fever now, Matthew,” was all she finally said in a deadened tone.
She started flipping through the pages, and, naturally, it opened to page 39 out of habit. Insentient things have a memory, too.
As if mesmerized, she wandered, around the foot of the bed and sat down at his feet, crossing her legs and smoothing 39 out against her lap.
She cleared her throat, and what she said next fake agent porno surprised him; he had expected a tirade; instead, she merely asked him a question.
“Do you think she is pretty, Matthew?” She tapped at 39 with a slender finger.
Her question seemed sparked by a sincere desire to know and not by malice. Then,
“With all that whorish make-up, the painted lips and cheeks, the false eyelashes?” she added, primly.
Matthew didn’t know how to answer. He sensed a trap. Was there a volcano shimmering behind those glowing, blue eyes she fixed on him? Was she waiting for some sign of contrition on his part before she exploded in a righteous fury?
He was dead meat. She would tell his father, and it would be the woodshed. ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child.’
He sensed that begging would not reduce the severity of his punishment.
“Would you not feel ashamed if your sister posed in such a magazine knowing that all manner of men would be gazing upon her naked flesh with unbridled lust?”
“I wish it were you!” Matthew blurted out without thinking, and was almost certain he could hear Satan and all his minions rejoicing.
“Oh, your ass is gonna fry, boy,” Satan whispered gleefully in his ear, while waving a huge, purple-veined prick in front of him.
“Maybe I wouldn’t measure up to your fantasies,” she said, as if challenging him.
“When I saw you,” he stammered, feeling his cock stir, “leaning at the window just now, I realized how much I wanted to see you naked; how much I wanted to –”
“Wanted to what, Matthew?”
“You know . . . . . . . . . . . . . do it.” In for a penny, in for a pound.
Dead meat for sure.
He thought he detected a faint redness forming on her cheeks. Her breasts rose as she took a deep breath.
“What if –”
She placed a trembling hand on his thigh, just above the knee. He could feel his cock regaining its former rigidity. He was unable to hide the fact as the sheet rose like a tent over his crotch.
She meditated on this resurrection for a long moment, then turned her back to him.
“Unzip me,” she ordered, raising her hair up with both hands.
He sat up, dizzy with need, unable to believe what was happening was really happening; it had to be a dream. He was hesitant to touch her, afraid the spell would be broken. His sister; Jesus God, his sister!
He gripped the plastic tab between the flaps of her collar with trembling fingers. She didn’t move. She waited. He heard a faint gasp as he tugged at the zipper. When he had taken it down as far as it would go, he dropped his hand, waiting, his heart pounding, to see what would happen next.
She released her hair, letting it cascade down to the small of her back. Matthew wanted to bury his face in the thick, fleecy waves as desperately as a man dying of thirst in a desert would want to plunge himself into a cool, glittering waterfall.
She stood and let the dress fall about her ankles, then turned and faced him. There was a cool, proud look on her face. Her blue eyes were fixed on his. Slowly, so very slowly, she began to unbutton her blouse starting with the bottom button first.
Matthew stared at her bare legs; he had never seen his sister’s legs bared before. Her striptease was like some exotic mystery of life finally being revealed to him; like some miraculous event about to occur.
The blouse came off and joined the dress on the floor. All she had left on besides her pumps and socks were her bra and panties. Matthew froze, his breath caught in his throat, as she reached behind herself and loosened the bra. He was beside himself as her twin globes of perfection became visible. She let the bra slide down her arms and drop to the floor. Her eyes seemed to be hot pools of blue, glowing with an inner heat, her cheeks scarlet flames. She slowly moistened her lips with the tip of her pink tongue, then hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties.
It was all Matthew could do to keep from cuming. He didn’t dare touch his throbbing cock: his fuck would cut through the sheet and cover the ceiling. His eyes roved wildly over the body of his almost naked sister. Soon, she would be totally naked; he would see it all. Nothing would be hidden from him. The anticipation was killing him. He caught his breath as his sister began pushing her panties down. He was as entranced as a grasshopper before a praying mantis and as helpless. He had no idea what he was to do or how he would do it, but he did know for certain that the answer to all his earnest prays, after all these years, was here, at last, lying between his sister’s thighs.
And then came the revelation: her pussy. He could see it. The hairs were fake cop porno as blonde as those on her head. The flaxen mound rose up from the flat plain of her belly like a tempting oasis. He could see the faint, pink line of her pussy lips through the bush, tight and swollen looking. The hairs along this byway were wet and glistening. He had learned from his readings, in other journals of depravity, that this meant a woman was eager for sex.
Was it possible that his sister was as turned-on as he was? It couldn’t be; and yet, would she be standing before him naked otherwise? Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly, while her face had the wanton, benumbed look of someone who is under the influence of a strong potion.
Matthew had never seen a real woman aroused, but he was certain these were the signs.
Caroline kicked off her pumps, then — standing first on one leg then the other — with the nimble grace of a dancer, peeled off her socks.
She pulled the sheet covering her brother down to the foot of the bed and, straddling his thighs, raised his rock hard cock off his lean belly; bending down she licked the tip with her velvet tongue.
“I’m going to cum,” Matthew groaned.
It was far too soon for it to be over, but he couldn’t wait a second longer.
Caroline murmured something unintelligible as she lowered her mouth onto his rigid pole.
“Oh, God!” Matthew exclaimed, squirming.
Feeling her sweet tongue laving his love tube within the tight confines of her warm, wet mouth was too much to bear.
A wild tingling sensation caused a sudden eruption of hot sperm from his swollen cockhead into his sister’s throat. He could feel her working it like crazy as she swallowed load after load into her belly.
When she had milked the last drop, she raised up and positioned her cunt directly over the head of his cock. Then slowly lowered herself. The soft pussy hairs were like tiny feathers stroking the tender head, bringing his cock back to life, harder than before.
As she sank onto him her body quivered uncontrollably.
“Oh-oh-oh,” she murmured softly.
As their bellies met, she leaned forward so that her cheek was against his. Her skin was hot with a tantalizing woman smell that was impossible to describe.
Suddenly emboldened, Matthew placed his hands on her asscheeks, amazed at how soft and pliant they were and pulled her tight against him.
An impulse to kiss her arose in him. The thought of kissing one’s sister, of actually doing it, instead of just fantasizing, was exciting. Kissing one’s sister on the mouth. It seemed almost more sinful than fucking her, more intimate, more perverse, and that made him want to do it all the more.
But would she want to?
He took a handful of her hair and raised her head up until their lips were barely touching. She looked in his eyes with wanton need and moistened her lips. He pulled her to him; their lips touched softly, then as their lust mounted, the kisses became more passionate, more crushing, more desperate, more wildly abandoned. Tongues slipped past lips building a raging heat that shot straight to their grinding centers. They hammered their naked bodies against each other, frantic for release. And when it came, like a thunderbolt, they collapsed, insensate, against each other; their mouths, wet with kissing, touched slightly, breathing in each other’s breath.
When Matthew woke, Caroline was fully dressed as before, leaning against the window sill looking out.
He shook his head. Had he been dreaming? Had he only imagined having had sex with his sister?
Turning, she saw that he was awake, and she came and sat on the bed beside him.
A commotion downstairs signaled the family’s return from church.
My, God, had it all been a dream?
His sister, a model of cool efficiency, pressed the palm of her hand against his forehead.
At that moment his mother entered the room.
“Well, how’s the patient?”
“He doesn’t seem to have a fever anymore, praise the Lord,” Caroline said.
“It’s the power of prayer,” the mother said, with a knowing smile. “We all prayed for you in church for a healing.”
She turned and headed back out the door, then paused.
“Lunch will be ready in a little while, Matthew. And say goodbye to your sister; she has to leave in a few minutes to go back to college.”
When his mother was gone, Matthew looked up at his sister who was standing now.
“Did we — ? Did we — ?”
“Did we what, silly?” she answered, with a playful tousle of his hair.
“You know.”
She sighed tolerantly, then smiled.
“No, my little brother, I don’t know.”
She bent over and hugged him.
“I’ll see you in the fall,” she called out cheerfully as she disappeared out the door.
Alone, Matthew found his Slut magazine underneath the sheet and opened it, but the girl on page 39 was gone.
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