Mouse Bk. 01 Ch. 02

"Stop me, big brother," she said between swallows. "Stop your little sister from sucking your cock."

Every so often she let it fall out, then moved her mouth along its entire length, from tip to base, around the other side, and back up to the top, where she would devour it again, opening her mouth around it and thrusting her head down, as far as she could, until her lips reached the base again, and his cock head pressed against the back of her tiny throat and in further still.

He'd never felt anything like this.

"Stop me, Michael, stop me from showing you how much I love your sweet, forbidden cock."

Other times she would pull back to hold him in both hands, staring at his cock, or past it into his eyes, daring him to stop her. Always, before he could regain his composure and say something, she would kiss it quickly, gently, first the head several times, then around the base of the head, then down the length, all the time squeezing it gently but rhythmically with her hands. Then she'd take it into her glorious mouth again.

His little sister's nasty, glorious mouth.

* * *

Here he was, with his cock raging in his baby sister's mouth. Both she, and it, had him pinned to the chair, unable to move, unable to make himself make her stop. He didn't want her to ever stop.

"You could stop me, big brother. You could push my incestuous mouth away, force my little sister mouth away from your sweet cock."

It felt too good, too wickedly, incomparably good. The little bitch, he thought, not meaning the words like they sounded. The beautiful, hot, little bitch.

After what seemed like hours she pulled back, still holding him in her hands. She looked up, her eyes intense and penetrating, to say "I'll do this again later, I promise." She kissed his cock once more, then she rose and straddled him before he could push her away, as if he would. She slid him just barely inside of her yet again. The heat of her cunt scalded the tip of his cock, feeling even hotter than her whore's mouth.

She held herself there, the tease of her flaming cunt just wetting the tip of his dick.

"I'm in control this time," she murmured. "I'm going to show you how to fuck a Mouse right," she added, giggling.

The lighthearted laughter lasted only a moment. As quickly as the playfulness came, she was suddenly sultry and serious again. Her smoldering eyes burned into his as she lowered herself onto him, very, very slowly. His fingertips touched her hips as she descended. He looked down to watch himself enter her, inch by heavenly inch, then looked up again to see her still staring into his eyes. Still.

"You promised, Michael," she breathed, ending with a soft squeak as he found himself completely inside her yet again. She twisted left and right, grinding them together, moving him around inside her without letting an inch of him out. "I heard you promise, while you fucked me. You promised you'd always fuck me, whenever I want. You can't break a promise you make to a girl with your cock deep inside her."

She gave him an evil grin. "We're family," she said, "I'm your sister, your little sister. A special kind of fucking little sister. I'll love you unconditionally and completely. I'll give myself to you any way you want."

He opened his mouth to protest, wanting to disguise the undeniable, hideous truth, to bury it in a lie, but she put a finger gently to his lips, softly shushing him.

Then she laughed again. Tossing her head she added "I'll still annoy you, I'll give you little sister shit every chance I get, that'll never stop..." She trailed off into a whimper of a squeal. She twirled his chest hair again, then pulled a lock painfully. "But I'll always let you fuck me, big brother, and you have to," she added, "From now on I'll always spread myself for you..."

He could se that she was losing herself, losing control.

Mouse gracefully lifted her knees up to his shoulders, balancing the balls of her feet on edges of the chair. Worried she might fall, Michael reached to support her by moving his hands up her back. She smiled at him, knowing that again he was being her protective big brother. She used his support to remove her hands from him and push the hair up seductively on her head. He watched her angelic tits lift, seemingly reaching out toward his mouth.

"And you'll take care of me," she admonished. "You won't let me fall, and you'll keep me in line. And if I get out of line, you'll pick me up and nail me to your bed like the little sister bitch that I am." She ended with another sexy squeal, the sound a whore makes to draw her trick into coming more quickly.

With her arms up, with her darling, irresistible breasts thrust naturally out at Michael, he instinctively moved forward to take one into his mouth. He felt her soft flesh against his lips, contrasting with the hard form of her nipple pressing against his tongue. He let his tongue wander, exploring its shape and texture, finding its edges where he found the smoother skin of her breast.

"Yes, Michael, that's a good boy, that's a good big brother" she purred, pushing her tit further into his mouth. She rocked back and forth. She rode him while they kissed and touched and explored.

Soon she started to shudder, saying "Oh, Michael. You're... Oh, Michael. Oh brother Michael. Ohmichaelohmichaelohmichael..." and then she was gone in what seemed an unending chorus of squeals and shivers and gasps as she came, seemingly without end.

Michael must have come too, but he didn't remember it. He only remembered the image and feel of her, rocking and grabbing and sweating and kissing, repeating his name over and over. Her orgasm was so intense, so overwhelming that it almost seemed she had had his too, that she had taken his into herself.

Michael had never felt anything like it, had never pleased a woman so completely. He enjoyed the feeling not with a sense of triumph or conquest, but instead with wonder and contentment.

When they had both settled down, they kissed. As seemed now to be their new way, they locked their eyes on each other, staring calmly and contentedly. After a while, Michael dared to ask a question.

"When did you become as psycho as my ex-wife?" he teased.

"Don't you ever compare me to that cunt," Mouse snapped back irritably, but with a wry little smile that betrayed her true emotions.

"I thought you hated that word."

"I do. Anyway, are you telling me that rag doll ever did what I do?" Mouse asked with a penetrating glare. There was a slight upturn to the corners of her mouth. It looked unbearably beautiful to Michael. Everything she ever did was beautiful.

Michael couldn't answer. He looked back and forth between her eyes, then answered the only way he could, silently, by kissing her passionately.

After a while she pulled her mouth away. She smiled and kissed him gently, repeatedly on the forehead. She bent to kiss him on the lips, too, softly.

"That's better, big brother," she breathed.

And it was, he thought, especially the sex. His ex could never come close to doing what Mouse did. The marital sex had pretty much ended years ago, and was stale long before that. He knew they must have had some wild nights, sometime, but he couldn't remember them in the foggy blur of all the nights of sheer banal routine. Even if there had been some night with sparks and smoke and flames, there was no way his ex had handled it with the finesse and the theater of Mouse.

After a moment more, Mouse stood up. His cock said a sorrowful farewell to her cunt with a wet pop. She took his hand at first, then thought better of it, dropping it to take hold of his cock instead. She tugged it gently, until he rose to stand behind her. She stepped away, using dainty, kittenish tiptoe steps, pulling him after her by his leash.

"Let's take a shower together," she suggested, smiling. "I've wanted to do that for years and years, too. It's time."

With that, she led him up the stairs.