How Jack Came To Fuck His Sister

He returned with the drinks and thought about how, without dressing provocatively or flaunting her body, she affected this magic. An aura was radiating from her that spoke to the sexual core of those that she had glanced at. Eyes would be drawn to something about her and he searched to find what that something was. The obvious thing that got her noticed was her hair; it was styled exquisitely and it hung and blazed about her. Partly it was in the eclectically impossible rightness of her style. She could take some outlandish item and make it no longer odd, but impeccably right for her. It was also in the poise and easy sensuousness that the tiniest of her gesture had. But he concluded that in her eyes, that was where the thing that drew people to her lived. They were no longer the eager bright eyes of a sixth former, but were now alive with a lasciviousness that he hoped was not as infinite as he imagined.

They talked, all the while he was looking into her eyes and he felt her sexuality reach out to him. Her eyes burned him without her seeming aware of what she did. By the time they had put on their coats and made their way out of the bar the something in the box was pushing hard to come out.

Out in the street she stopped to light a cigarette -- a new affectation he thought - he watched her inhale and look skyward as she exhaled, and suddenly she was cheap and ordinary to him, his earlier imaginings now seemed ridiculous.

She inhaled again and noticed the look he gave her: "Sorry, Jack! I know you'll think me a complete degenerate. I picked the disgusting habit up when I was in France, last Easter, with Colette. She corrupted me." But she laughed and looked pleased with her own thoughts.

Later they ate a meal in Chinatown and she seemed more the country girl again, his little sister. He decided to ask her about the book.

"Oh, and thank you for the book. I've been looking at it a lot this last month. What made you buy it for me."

"I've always loved the Pre-Raphaelites; such a dissipated clique of hedonists...don't you think? All those wives, girlfriends, brothers and sisters"

"I didn't know anything about them till I got that book from you."

"There was one picture in it I thought you might appreciate. Can you guess which one?"

His blood chilled, his throat was dry. He took a drink.

"Don't worry Jack, I'm not going to test you. But one of the pictures contains a likeness of you. "The Beguiling Of Merlin," by Burne-Jones. That night we danced, when I looked back at you as I was leaving, that painting came into my head. It was one that I have always loved. You had the look of an spellbound Merlin About you."

She looked around for a waiter to ask for water.

Then brazenly, "Why did you have that look, Jack?"

"I didn't know I did."

"Oh yes, I have never seen anyone look as you did that night. You don't have to lie to me Jack. I felt you pressed against me when we danced."

"Carla, you shouldn't say stuff like that."

"But you were."

"I tried to not let you feel it."

She waited for him to say more, and when he didn't, she asked, "Jack, were you beguiled?"

"I'd had to much to drink, that's all."

"Colette says, older brothers always lust after their little sisters. She told me how her brother used to ask her for a blow job."

"And did she give him one?"

"She said she did."

"She sounds adorable! Is this the same Colette who got you smoking."

"The very same. She's taught me a lot. Opened me up to all sorts of new shit."

"Is she your girlfriend now?"

"You can make you own mind up. I'll phone her, you'll like her. It'll be fun."

She dug in her bag and retrieved her mobile.

"Hi, Colette. Remember how I told you Jack was in town.... That's right. Well I think it would be good if we three got together." She laughed at something her friend said. "Yes, I'll let you play with him, but only if you are nice to me as well. Meet you at the Print Works: Hard Rock Cafe. Say half an hour?"

Half an hour later they were standing near the bar waiting for Colette to turn up. Carla was attentive to her surroundings again, sexual and haughty, a caged cheetah released back onto the savannah. Even though she was obviously in his company, guys would try to talk to her, chat her up. She would give them her look, then deny and confuse them. The interruptions began to spoil the flow of their conversation, and Jack said so to her. She came closer to him, resting her hand on his arm as they talked her thigh just pressing against him.

She reached up and brushed a lock of his hair back into place and said, "If I stay close to you, guys will think we are lovers and leave us alone."

She kissed him softly on the cheek.

And it worked, men stopped interrupting them, but people still looked and he imagined they envied him.

They stood and drank larger from bottles, she held onto his arm, and occasionally she was jostled and got pushed against him. When this happened she would not pull away embarrassed as she might have a few years ago, but lingers against him, then would slowly draw back, but not far. When she was pressed against him he could feel the heat again, like when they danced at the wedding, but it carried a different scent to him now.

"How do you usually cope with all the attention, Carla?"

"When I'm out, there's usually with Colette. We look after each other."

"Don't you ever cop off?" he asked, trying to sound not that interested.

"Jack, if I want a guy I have him. But it's me that decides."

She took a drink from her bottle and looked around the room. Then she was waving to a dark skinned girl who had just entered the bar. She moved quickly off to greet her friend as if she were someone long lost to her and unexpectedly returned. Jack watched from a distance as they spoke to each other just out of his earshot. When things looked settled between them, Carla led her friend by the hand and introduced her.

When the niceties were done with, Colette said, "Carla has told me a lot about you, Jack. I feel I already know you. She keeps promising to tell me more about the Collisters and their secrets."

"We have no secrets in our family, do we Jack?" There was a conspiracy in the air. He did not feel a party to it.

"None at all." It was lame, but what cold he say. He felt busted.

"Carla, you don't know, Jack might have secrets of his own."

"No, he could never keep a secret. Could you Jack?"

They were playing with him and he could not understand to what end they were leading him. Did they intend to humiliate him? He made an excuse and made a trip to the toilets. Inside he wet his face and took time out to calm his nerves.

As he made his way back to them he saw them breaking from each other. They had obviously been kissing. He was momentarily stunned. His little sister really had changed, become grown and more sexual than he could have ever thought. He did not judge, he just had not expected it and so pretended not to have seen.

When he was back, he was the centre of their attention again. It was when the three of them danced that Jack's mind descended once more into some dark imaginings. The idea of being watched dancing with these two gorgeous girls was evoking his lascivious side. As they all danced, he moved in-between the two of them and thought, no one will know the redhead is my sister.

They both responded and were moving suggestively next to him. Carla was laughing and he could not tell if it was mock sexuality to her or if she was allowing him some new intimacy, but her friend did not hold back as she closed to be near him. Then she had a leg each side of his own leg. As they danced he imagined the onlookers thinking they were a ménage à trois and that later he would enjoy them both.

For a moment he let his mind think what it would be like to be in bed with the two of them. He thought of Colette's boyish chest and imagined his sister's more substantial flesh and him touching the two to compare. There it was again, the thing in the box. It was banging again. The three danced and moved about each other, putting on a show for any onlookers, their bodies and hips suggestive, the girls brushing each other then surrounding him and holding him from either side. In spite of himself, his cock became a marble hindrance in his pants.

They danced and talked for two more hours. At 2am they were out on the streets among the crowds that were moving from bar to club to home.

"Where next?" Asked Colette.

"There's Club Kudos," offered Carla. "It only opened last week."

"Girls, I hope you don't mind, but I'm dead on my feet. You two go on, I'll call it a day."

"Oh Jack, It won't be the same without you. Don't be a wuss!" pleaded Carla. Then resting her head against his shoulders, she allowed intoxication to take hold.

"What about we all go back to Jack's room for a last drink. I'll phone a cab and while we wait we can have a last drink. It would be better than queuing at the cab-rank. It gets a bit rough down there about this time," offered Colette.

The three walked the short distance to Jack's hotel arm in arm. He was between them both and as they walked he had still not summoned the will to close the box that had sprung open earlier. He wallowed in his position between them both. The night porter looked envious as they breezed past him. They wished him a good night.

In the room jack poured three whiskies. Carla was at the far end of the long couch that could be opened out into a bed. Colette was on the double bed propped up by pillows, she was rummaging in her handbag and pulled out a small leather purse and commenced to roll a joint.

Jack watched. His first thought was that it was a no smoking room. His second was, god, it's years since I smoked weed.

"Good Skunk, this," said Colette, as she sucked on the spliff. "Pass that cup to catch the ash in, please, Jack."

Carla was staring at him, waiting to see his reaction. "See what a gown up girl I am now, Jack, I have big friends who do drugs and shit!"

He handed Colette her drink and when she offered him the joint he took it and reacquainted himself with its heat and astringency. He walked over to his sister, handed her the spliff and the whiskey glass and sat at the other end of the sofa from her. He took a mouthful of Scotch.

Carla had passed the joint back to him, put her glass on the floor, then taken off her boots and socks, and was now rubbing her feet.

She asked him, "Jack, could you do my feet, please? My boots have been killing me all night."

Without waiting for his reply she stretched out her long legs and deposited both her feet in his lap. They were warm and very slightly damp, emerging from black leggings. He passed the spliff back to her then took her feet, rubbed her soles, and manipulated her ankles. He pushed down an urge to gently nibble at her toes.

"I could do with some of that," said Colette, looking at them from the bed.

"What? The Skunk, or your feet rubbing?" asked Jack.

"Both."

"My big brother's an Angel, I'm sure he wouldn't mind doing you too. Would you, Jack?"

"Yeah, I can have a little foot orgy in my lap."

"Come over next to me, I'll budge up." She moved over to make room for her friend.

They both watched as Colette unsteadily rose from the bed.

"I'll just take these off. Look away please, Jack, a girl has to maintain her dignity," she said as she reached under her skirt.

They were all very intoxicated now, and as she tried to wriggle out of her opaque tights she lost her balance and fell back onto the bed. After a lot of kicking and giggling she eventually made her legs bare. She came over next to Carla and stretched out her dark naked legs and plonked her feet in his lap alongside her friend's.

Colette's feet were chilled compared to his sister's. She'd not had the benefit of boots in the cold night, just a pair of inadequate ballerinas. His hands massaged one foot of each girl, then moved to the next foot of each of them. They passed the joint around and chatted. As he rubbed their feet, he thought of that summer afternoon three years ago when he had watched the girlish Carla, and Amie and thought of how he had fantasised about touching and licking their young feet.

He was becoming reacquainted with a blurring of his edges bought on by the Skunk. The girls were whispering into each other's ears, then giggling and whispering some more. Their sounds became like serpents in a hole hissing. Then Carla called to him...

"Jack, I've got a little secret just for you. Promise you won't tell mumsssy and dadssssy."

Her slurred sarcasm irritated him. She took a deep draw on the spliff and reached over and offered it to him again. He shook his head and carried on rubbing their feet.

"Your little baby sister has decided she likes girls, as well as boys. Yes girls, girlie-girls...really likes them; beautiful girls. I like boys too, but I might like girls more! I don't know yet. I haven't decided which is nicest." The two girls giggled; Stupidly he thought. "Me and Colette...we like to do it with each other you know. She's a girl too, like I am, and I like her."

"Me too," added Colette, but not really keeping up. Neither was Jack.

The two girls began to kiss, Jack watched them as his hands slowly alternated between the four feet in his lap. Colette's feet were also hot now.

As the intensity of their passion for each other became obvious, Jack's hands had came to a halt, paralysed by disbelief and lust.

"Don't stop, Jack," said his sister, taking time out from her kissing. "It was really nice, so nice to have my feet rubbed as we kissed."

"He's feeling left out," said Colette. "I want to kiss him too. I want to see if he tastes like you do."

"Jacky! Come and give my best friend a kiss...her lips are all wet and sloshy." Carla was loud now, her drunken laugh hinting at an inner abandon. He felt uneasy about the situation, but his lust fuelled him on.

He moved from under their feet and placed them down on the sofa, and went to kneel by Colette's side. He kissed her full on, holding nothing back, his whiskey tongue an eager terrier in her smoky hole of a mouth.

"Mmm. I've never snogged brother and sister," said Colette, as she now turned to Carla.

The girls kissed again, and Jack began to stroke Colette's leg. She did not stop him, so he let it travel further. She allowed one leg fall off the side of the couch, making room for him to progress.

"I wish I had some man-lips I could kiss," pouted Carla as her friend turned again to Jack.

"Mmn, I can't make my mind up," Colette mused, "let me try again."

She exchanged kisses with each of them and then was whispering to Carla, "Your brother is being a very naughty boy. He's pulling off my panties."

"Let me feel," said Carla, as she placed her hand between Colette's legs only to encounter her brother's already there. His fingers were working the humid flesh. She rested her own hand on his and felt the motion of it as he rubbed between Colette's folds.

"Mmm, nice rhythm Jack-boy. Here let me help," she slurred.

Carla's hand was on his, piloting his movements, applying pressure as he rubbed. Oh, this is intense! He was breathing fast, too fast. Slow down. Breath deep.

To give himself mental distance and break from his sister's touch, he stood up and pulled Colette after him, She spluttered and giggled as he supported her on the way across to the bed.

"What about me?" protested Carla. They had left her behind on the sofa.

He sat Colette down on the edge of the bed and quickly undressed her. Her brown flesh and dark nipples would be a new flavour to him. And for a moment he forgot about his sister and he became fully engrossed in Colette's exotic brown flesh.

Carla undressed herself; she had not intention of being a voyeur, and was back with them licking at Colette too. He broke from them, stood and undressed himself, all the time watching the two girls kissing and rubbing each other.

"Hurry up Jack, Colette wants some cock. She's not had any for weeks."

Laughter again.

They were both sitting up now, arms around each other and looking at him stood naked before them, his cock straining to be at work.

"Carla, your brother is bloody gorgeous, isn't he?"

"God, yes, Jack, I didn't know he had all that hidden away."

"Would you like to suck it for him?" asked Colette, drunk and mocking. It wouldn't be like real sex...not incest or anything. After all, that president Clinton didn't have sex with that woman did he; she just sucked his cock. He said, it wasn't sex. And he was the president. He should know."

More shrill laughter.

He looked at them both on the bed, but his eyes were now more drawn to Carla. Try not to look at her red hair. Nor her long legs and curves. Nor her silk white breasts. She's your kid sister for Christ's sake. Oh God! Concentrate on Colette. That's right Colette, thinks of Colette, beautiful, dark, Colette.

"Listen, Colette, I'm more than happy to have you between me and Carla. But that's all. Okay?"

"Spoil sport!" He hoped Carla was joking. She seemed like she was joking, just banter, a bit of fun.

He was with Colette now, kissing her, stroking her, pinching and nipping her. She was on her back and Carla was between her legs. They were a team and bought her to orgasm. It did not take long, being between brother and sister had excited Colette's every synapse and corpuscle.

Now he was on his back and Colette was sucking at his cock, her tongue pressing firmly and sensuously as it travelled the length. Now her lips enfolded it all, he was deep in her throat, then her lips were on his end and her tongue flickering in and out. Carla stoked her friend's buttocks. Her finger began to explore her hot wet cunt from behind, smearing the thick cum about her dark flesh, up the crack of her arse and around her puckering.

Colette crawled level with him and kissed him on the mouth again, but he could still feel lips and tongue on his cock; only now the movements and technique had changed. In his drunken confusion it took a few seconds for it to register just what that meant. He had to break from his kissing and look down at himself before he could make his brain compute this new data. Colette looked confused and followed his gaze. They both sat transfixed and watched Carla as she mouthed her brother's cock with fevered disregard.

"God Carla! I never really thought you would. Jesus girl!"

Carla did not stop; she was in another headspace, her brother's meat stuffed fully in her fine middle class, butter-wouldn't-melt, mouth.

Colette's incredulity and shock burst from her in a broadside of disgust. "Oh no, no! I was just skitting you Carla! I never seriously thought you would...oh, god! You dirty fucking slut! How could you do that? Your own fucking brother. Fuck. Oh no, stop, Carla stop. Jesus! I'm going to hurl."

Carla did not stop.

Colette jumped up, tried to run to the bathroom, fell, and had to crawl on all fours. Her retching was loud and abrasive and echoed around the tiles.

It was not until after Jack's cum had filled her mouth, and been swallowed, that Carla called to her friend.

"Oh Colette, don't be mad." She was now aware of her friend's reaction, but was barely able to articulate her words. The room was spinning for her, she rested her head on her brother's flat hard stomach, traces of his spunk on her chin and between her mouth and nose, his spent cock still inches from her lips.

Colette was still in the bathroom water was splashing. She re-entered the bedroom, and without another word, or even looking in their direction, hurriedly dressed and left them. Jack could think of no words to say as he watched her go.

When she had gone, he looked down at his sister. She was far-gone. She had drunk no more than he had; perhaps she'd had a little more from the joint, but not that much. It occurred to him that she might have had something stronger than the skunk. He sat her up and brushed the hair out of her eyes. She was crying and mumbling.