Cock Crazy

byCal Y. Pygia©

Getting to her feet, Amanda looked down at her brother. "It looks like you might be up for more," she mused, emphasizing the word "up," as she let her glance travel from his eyes to his upright penis.

He grinned. "You have a miraculous mouth."

"Have you ever fucked a girl in her ass?" she asked, getting straight to the point.

Porter blushed. He was always blushing, it seemed to Amanda, which, she thought, was kind of cute. "Uh, no." He had never committed this deed, but he'd read much about it, in fiction, in more clinical literature, and even in philosophy and religion. He'd also thought about the act many times in an effort to understand his great attraction, lately, to anal intercourse.

"You're about to," she said. She knelt upon the spread-out robe and beach towels. Letting her upper body drop forward, her tits jiggling beneath her, she landed upon her outstretched palms, them lowered herself onto her elbows. Her knees were well parted, her back arched, and her buttocks high in the air, their divide parted to reveal the tiny puckered portal to her bowels above the vertical slit of her still-wet sex. "Kneel behind me," she instructed him. "Put it in my ass."

"It's too big," he said.

"No, it's not," she told him. "I've had bigger. Besides, you can stick it inside my pussy first, to lubricate it."

Porter was embarrassed to be receiving sexual instructions from his sister, but, at the same time, hearing her use such words as "ass," "fuck," and "pussy" was erotic. He knelt behind her, lowering his height by spreading his knees and hunching forward, and inserted his erection between her cunt-lips, feeling the slick labia part to receive him, and slid his shaft into the warm, liquid center of her loins, feeling the delicate, velvet-soft petals of tissue within. He worked his prick back and forth inside his sister's most intimate parts until his organ was quite slick with her flowing juices. Reluctantly, he removed his member, which, he observed, was slick with her lubricant.

He brought his knees closer, straightening his posture, to attain the few inches of additional height he'd need to access Amanda's asshole. Taking his cunt-slick cock gingerly between his thumb and first two fingers, to avoid drying it any more than necessary, he guided his prick between the soft, round cushions of his sister's derriere, watching the thick, hard organ slide between his sister's buttocks. Abruptly, his purple glans met the stout resistance of her anal sphincter, and, as he pressed his prick forward, the tip slid upward, rather than ahead, and his cock followed the ascending cleavage of her ass.

Amanda sighed. Porter could imagine her rolling her eyes in exasperation at his clumsiness.

Taking his cock in hand, he again guided the recalcitrant organ toward its target. This time, with a forceful shove, he succeeded in breaching the resistance of his sister's anus, and a couple of inches of his erect penis penetrated her bottom. He was amazed at how tight her asshole was, compared to her cunt. It was tighter, even, than her lips had been when, forming an "O" of them, she'd pumped her rounded mouth up and down upon his stiff-standing prick a few minutes ago. The firm, circular hold of her asshole upon and around his cock felt wonderful. His buttocks flexed, thighs and back muscles tightening, as he eased his hips forward, feeding inch after inch of his prick through the tight opening, into her more accommodating rectum. He continued to penetrate her until the entire length of his erection was buried within her bowels and his balls were crushed between his lower belly and the lower curves of her impaled bottom.

Amanda moaned. This sound was much better, Porter thought, than her sigh had been, signaling contentment rather than exasperation. His sister, it seemed, liked being filled with his cock every bit as much as he enjoyed having it plumb the depths of her bowels.

Porter's eyes widened as he felt his sister's anus flutter about his invading member. Her sphincter tightened and relaxed rapidly, convulsively, pumping itself around his penis, as if in a desperate, but vain, effort to dislodge his invading organ. The sensations felt wonderful, and Porter remained still, his cock shoved so far up his sister's ass that his balls were mashed firmly against the silken globes. Another series of insistent spasms squeezed his dick, followed by a third, each a little less adamant, until, gradually, the contractions ceased as, relaxing, her sphincter admitted defeat, admitting him.

Impaled upon his cock, Amanda had twisted her upper body, rolling her weight onto her left shoulder and bending her right elbow sharply so that she could support herself upon the palm of her right hand. Craning her neck, she was able to look back, past the curve of her right thigh, and see her brother's upper body and face. Her own countenance was intense with passion. "Fuck me," she beseeched him. "Fuck my ass, deep and hard."

A mere generation ago, anal intercourse, or "sodomy," as it would have been called, was considered not only shameful, but also an abomination against God and a crime against nature. Any who dared to practice such an act would have done so in secrecy and in shame. Today, it was considered simply a variant of penile-vaginal sex, an alternate way to make love that provided the spice of variety to couples' sex lives and kept things interesting in the bedroom. Estimates as to how frequency heterosexual couples engaged in the activity varied from 20 percent (Laumann) to 40 percent (Kinsey), with a French survey suggesting that about 30 percent practiced such activity, while a Canadian study showed as many as half the population performing anal intercourse. Perhaps, Porter thought, the differences in numbers were explained by the times in which the studies were conducted and the possibility that men and women in different countries enjoyed the practice more or less than their counterparts in other nations did, with, apparently, Canadians being far fonder of it than Americans or even the notoriously amorous French. For his part, Porter was simply glad that he lived in a time in which the taboo was all but gone, if not forgotten, and whether or not a couple chose to engage in "sodomy" was merely a choice, not a sin, a crime, or a transgression of some imaginary code of decency or morality, for, although this was his "first time," it would definitely not be his last.

Incest remained taboo, however, and the fact that he was fucking his sister in her ass gave him the sexual thrill that, for heterosexual "sodomites," anal intercourse, a generation ago, had provided. He had to admit, silly though it seemed, incest, as forbidden fruit, so to speak, was sweeter than sex with his sister might have been were such an act permissible rather than prohibited.

However, even without the guilt and shame that sex with his sister caused at some subconscious level, now that he'd managed to repress these feelings on the conscious level, the act of butt-fucking his sister was still highly erotic, from a visual perspective alone. Therefore, in watching himself--or his cock--fuck Amanda in her ass, Porter enjoyed much of the same feelings that, a generation ago, he would have experienced in butt-fucking any woman. These feelings--guilt, fear, shame--added to his sexual enjoyment of his sister.

As he withdrew his cock so that just the bulbous glans remained within the portal of his sister's bowels, propping open her anus, as it were, Porter watched the glistening shaft emerge, inch by slow inch, sliding free of the gaping, clutching ring of her sphincter and passing again the inward-curving slopes of Amanda's derriere that it had brushed by but a moment ago, as it had gone in the opposite direction. Then, he eased his hips forward, and his thick, hard prick slid past the parted cleavage of Amanda's soft-firm ass, through the wide-stretched, but still snug anus, and vanished, inch by inch, into the depths of her rectum. Porter watched this same vanishing act again and again, as he pumped his prick into his sister's asshole, never tiring of the simple sights of bloated dick, impaled anus, and full, silken buttocks.

It was no wonder, he thought, that, despite the sanctions both of church and state, "sodomy" had continued, shameful and degrading and wicked though it was once considered to be, to be practiced among men and women--or, for that matter, between men, apart from women. The artist Édouard-Henri Avril had even depicted an instance of anal intercourse between the emperor Hadrian and his male lover Antinous. The latter, Porter recalled, is shown kneeling upon a divan spread with linen, his master's discarded cloak beside him. Hadrian, kneeling behind him, his left hand upon Antinous' shoulder and his cock inserted between his lover's buttocks, ravishes him anally as a female Egyptian, nude but for a headdress, ornate collar, and armbands, fans the ardent couple, her face serene, as if she has observed the intimate lovemaking of these male paramours countless times before. Outside the window behind the fornicating men, pyramids recede, one behind the other, toward the mountains that mark the horizon. Porter, upon seeing the painting in an encyclopedia of art, had found it to be highly erotic, so much so that it had aroused him, making him wonder whether he were homosexual. He'd forgotten the painting until now, as he had his seemingly ancient concern as to whether he preferred men to women. Although he had nothing against men, finding them to be as sexy, in their own way, as women, he preferred the opposite sex as his friends and lovers. Among women, he'd decided, he preferred his sister more than any others.

There was something, just about the position itself of the recipient of anal intercourse, that was arousing to a viewer. The posture--kneeling, while offering to another the most intimate, and (at one time, at least) the most shameful parts of oneself--was superbly erotic, suggesting, at once, a willingness to be dominated, invaded, occupied, conquered, or even, if one imagined the prick to be a weapon, wounded, or, indeed, killed. The pleasure was sadistic, Porter supposed, in a socially acceptable (well, somewhat socially acceptable) manner. The domination, invasion, occupation, conquest, wounding, and infliction of death were, after all, symbolic, not actual; emotional (and sexual), not existential. The figurative conquest of a supposedly or actually weaker, more submissive person, whether female, like Amanda, or male, like Antinous, aroused the same emotions of guilt, fear, and shame that the previous associations of "sodomy" with wickedness and sin had caused, making the act of anal intercourse enjoyable on many levels beyond which regular, or penile-vaginal, intercourse was pleasurable. That was one reason, Porter supposed, that some couples came to prefer anal to ordinary intercourse.

In addition, the use of the rectum as a surrogate cunt was sexy because it denied women the unique position that nature had assigned to them as the incubators of the species' eggs and the carriers of the new life to which they, as mothers, were intended to give birth. There was nothing reproductive about anal sex. As a makeshift pussy, the ass--which eliminated waste, rather than creating life--was the antithesis, almost, of womanhood. Denying women their purpose, anal intercourse made of women mere playthings rather than the ones who brought forth new life out of themselves. The anus, as a cunt substitute, snubbed the pussy; as it were, and, in doing so, it likewise slighted the female herself. For this reason, on a subliminal level, the sight of an unoccupied cunt beneath an asshole crammed with cock was thrilling, for, idle and vacant, an unused pussy showed men's ability to deny women their womanhood. A man could just as well fuck another man in the same manner as to fuck a woman in such a way. An asshole, after all, was an asshole, regardless of whether it belonged to a man or a woman, whereas a cunt was available only from a member of the female sex. The denial of a woman's essential nature was, in itself, a highly erotic, because sadistic, act, and it remained so even when its recipient was masochistic, as cock crazy Amanda, in some ways, at least, obviously was. The only greater act of sadism, Porter mused, was anal intercourse between two men, for such an act, by its very nature, frustrated reproduction, since two men could never conceive a child between them, and it made the penis of the penetrating man as useless as the penetrated man's prick, hanging worthless, between his impaled buttocks.

As these thoughts ran through his mind, Porter continued to fuck his sister's ass with diligence. How could he not? The arching mounds, soft and pink and sleek as only globes of flesh can be, were too tempting, demanding to be employed, to be taken, to be possessed. Again and again, with greater force and fury, Porter slammed his rigid member between his sister's buttocks, the firm-soft orbs flattening before each thrust and rebounding as he withdrew. Her sphincter rode his prick, indenting within the circle of her anus when he plunged his thick rod home and popping out of the rim, a fraction of an inch, as it followed, as much as it could, the retreat of his punishing organ.

Porter rode Amanda harder and faster, increasing both the tempo and the force with which he fucked her ass until what had begun as an act of tenderness and love became a brutal assault, a ravishment exhibiting only his need to dominate and to master. Sex was no longer a vehicle not of love or affection; it had become a means of exercising power and of celebrating conquest.

Slammed hard by her brother as he plunged his prick deep into her bowels again and again, with ever-greater passion, her whole frame wracked by his weight and force, Amanda closed her eyes tightly, gritted her teeth, and vowed to endure. Her asshole felt as if it had been reamed to many times its normal size, as no doubt it had, and the pushing-pulling motions of Porter's cock seemed to first thrust and then to yank her intestines back and forth inside her. In fact, she knew, these sensations were really simply those reported, as it were, by her anal sphincter, which, impaled, rode upon the piston-prick that lunged and withdrew its massive length anew, each moment, within her ass. When she felt she could bear no more and must, any second, be rent asunder by the massive prick that threatened to split her in half, her brother slammed his hips into her behind a final time, flattening the cheeks of her ass hard against his groin, and he shuddered, groaning, as orgasm overtook him.

A surge rushed through his cock, and he felt his molten seed erupt, spewing into his sister's bowels, the fecundating fluid finding no egg to fertilize, but only the spacious, vacant cavity of her rectum. Other pulses occurred as additional semen spurted into her bowels. Porter remained stationary until he'd emptied his full load. Even then, he remained within his sister's ass, his penis slowly shrinking, softening, and dwindling, until, at last, the flaccid, semen-smeared penis passed as if it were a small, soft turd, streaking her huge, gaping anus, the cleavage of her parted buttocks, her neglected labia, and the tops of the backs of her thighs with its slick, thick remnants.

Afterward, they rested beside one another, caressing breasts and chest, vulva and testes-filled scrotum, pubes and bellies, Amanda trailing a fingertip over the semen that she'd let dry into brittle flakes upon her face to feel the sleek texture of the tiny chips. Occasionally, she would wet a finger, moisten a flake, and insert the fragment of her brother's dehydrated seed into her mouth, to suck its salt and savor its musky scent. Once or twice, she shared a morsel with Porter, who enjoyed the fruit of his loins as if the flakes of semen were salted nuts, which, in a way, he supposed they were.

They enjoyed a final kiss before, standing, Porter drew on his trunks and Amanda tied the sash of her closed robe around the front of her waist. Each reclaimed his or her respective towel, and, hand in hand, they ambled along the nature trail that led through the deep, majestic forest to the cabin where, for thirteen more days, they would continue to enjoy what, for all intents and purposes, although they were not married and could never wed, was their honeymoon.

Along the way, they stopped, occasionally, to read a sign that identified a plant or tree and to enjoy the sight and the scent of various wildflowers. "Your friends at school are right about you, Mandy," Porter told his sister.

"Why's that?" she asked, as if she didn't know what he would say.

"You are cock crazy."

She laughed, squeezing his hand. "It's a good thing you're my brother, Porter, because, with you around, I'll have a steady diet of my favorite food, anytime I feel hungry for cock."

They shared another kiss, flavored with his manhood.

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byCal Y. Pygia© 0 comments/ 186508 views/ 23 favorites
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