The Day Hell Froze Over Ch. 03

"Come on baby."

She forced herself to relax as she arched her back. He slipped inside. The sensation was unlike anything she ever experienced and as he pushed in deeper she found it easier to accept all of him. It was an experience that she briefly felt had nothing to do with her, but at the same time it was the most intense encounter they had by far.

He, on the other hand, remembered back to the first time he knew he wanted to fuck her in her ass. It was actually at their parents' house a few weeks back during a family BBQ outside by the pool. She just got of the water and was bending over looking for a towel. The position was perfect in helping him form countless wet dreams regarding her, but this was no dream, this was reality. He was fucking his baby sister's ass. He squeezed the round curves, pulling them apart and together, watching his cock be engulfed by her pink and brown flesh.

Sliding his hands up her back, from the crease in her ass to her shoulder blades he leaned over her, covering her body with his until there wasn't a breath of space between them. His hands traveled down her arms, which were tense from supporting her weight. He moved from them to her hanging breasts, cupping them, molding them to his liking. They were ear to ear, until she turned her head to kiss him. She smiled a smile full of love and warmth. He halted all movement on his part and lifted back up, away from her, away from her smile, away from her warmth. He repositioned his hands to the back of her neck and pushed. Following his pressure she fell face forward into the bed. Her face was covered from view by his hand and he lightly pushed her into the mattress.

Then he began to move, fucking her ass in slow steady strokes, feeling her body out, and developing a rhythm. Her moan was heart retching, and unsettling, but she didn't ask him to stop. She was getting used to the weird sensations within her body, different, yet oddly familiar. Teasing her, he pushed harder. She screamed.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No... No, you're not."

"Should I stop?"

"No. Not yet, not yet..."

He pushed again, this time moving his body forward with the lunge, bending slightly over her again. Her ass was so tight. There wasn't any re-lubrication, as he would experience with a pussy, so the slide felt even more contained and the feeling of the passage was different. Fucking her ass was more of a straight tight line, like a glove, in comparison to a pussy. A pussy was a bit more malleable than an ass. This fuck was a straight shot. One hand still stayed on the back of her head, burying itself in her hair, while the other slid back down her body, finding her pussy, which was loaded with juice. He couldn't get his all fingers inside her, but enjoyed letting his hand cup the upper part of her puss, crushing her clit in the process. It was then that her response level intensified. Her moans even more pronounced.

He loved it. He loved bring in her ass and in her pussy at the same time, fucking her. Having her bent over like a bitch. His beautiful bitch and she loved it too. Denise wouldn't let him fuck her like this. Their sex, his and Denise's, was good, but with Sin he felt a freedom that was carnal, with her he didn't have to hold back or worry about being gentle. He had marks all over his body from when she held on to him, not wanting to let him go. Keeping him as close to her body as possible.

He lifted his body up again, but this time he took her with him as he continued pumping into her body, fucking her from behind. He leaned back, sitting on his calves as he took her body weight, fucking upward into her. Her head fell back onto his shoulder and her body tightened around him, convulsing in tiny shivers testifying to her journey over the edge. She was cumming and he could feel it, he could feel it and a heartbeat later he followed her over with a bang, in the tightest hole he ever experienced.

So from that point on, their sex-play took on a whole new element. There wasn't a part of her body that he didn't use for his enjoyment, well almost, and she loved every moment of it. He fucked her just the way she always knew he would. She never felt more sexually alive than when she was in his arms nor did she ever came harder. She also loved the affect she had over him. All she had to do was look at him a certain way and no matter how important the topic or situation was, he always gave in and moved her to heights she didn't think possible. There was no doubt about it-- the sex was damn good.

So why was there a part of her still unsatisfied?

Three days later Michael got into the car and drove to her apartment. Once upstairs he used his key to get in but didn't see her anywhere. Pulling out his cell phone he dialed her cell. There was no answer. He tried again.

Voicemail.

Again.

"Sorry I'm not available..."

On the third attempt she finally answered.

There was loud music in the background and applause. Her laughing voice carried through the airwaves.

"Hold on a minute. Let me finish this drink," she replied into the phone. A second later she came back. "Hello?"

"Cynthia?" he yelled into the mouthpiece.

"Hello?" she asked again. "I can't herr you." She sounded slightly slurred. There was no doubt about it—she was drunk.

"Cyn?" he tried again. "Can you hear me?"

"Who's dis?"

"Michael."

"Who?"

"Michael!" Just then the music stopped and someone boomed crossed the line. They sounded far away and like they were on a microphone of some sort.

"Michael?!" The joy in her voice came across loud and clear and then suddenly as if it just occurred to her that that was a bad thing, she said his name again, but this time it was with distain. "Michael."

He raised his eyebrows at her tone. What brought that on?

"Cyn? Where are you?"

"With the girls. We shop...stop... by to get a drink. Want one?"

"Where Cyn?"

"Three Way."

"With whom did you go? Who is driving?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know whom you came with? Or you don't know who is sober enough to drive?"

"Ummmmmm." It was almost as if he was asking her question that involved nuclear science. Finally, sighing out of frustration she gave up. "What do you want, Mike?"

"Don't move. I'm coming to get you."

"Nooooooooooo. I don't wanna gooooo."

"Shut up. It's already after 3. You've had enough fun. I'm coming to get you so I suggest you sober up—fast! Be ready when I call again. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

Hanging up, he headed out the door. He got there in 12 minutes and dialed the number.

One ring... two... five... voicemail.

He called again. Same thing. He was about to jump out the car and go get her when he saw a slender, unsteady figure exit from the bar. It was Cyn. Getting out he went to her and helped. He didn't want her to fall. She was wearing a red spaghetti strapped top and matching short shorts. She looked like walking sex.

"Cyn? " he looked into her brown eyes. They looked sad.

"Yeah?" her voice was steadier, without the tremble he heard earlier and her eyes were actually focused. She was sobering up.

"Come on baby. Let's get you home." The ride to her place was done in silence and he took the whole 20 minutes. He looked over at her, worried, as she curled up into a ball and went to sleep. Once there he got out the car and picked her up in his arms. The elevator was broken, but it wasn't that much of a hardship to walk up two stories to her place. However, getting the keys from his jacket pocket with her still in his arms was.

"Cyn, baby? I need to open the door," sighing she opened her eyes and motioned for him to let her down. Still a bit unsteady she stood on her own and pulled her keys from her pocketbook. She walked in and sat on the couch, again curling up in a ball on the sofa. He locked the door and sat beside her. Reaching out, he moved her hair from her face, like he used to do when she was a child.

"Cyn? What's wrong? Tell me what happened? You drink but you rarely, if ever, let yourself become drunk. What's wrong sweetheart?"

The eyes that looked back at him caused him to flinch. She was angry.

Taking a deep, steady breath she said. "Thanks for picking me up. Now that I'm a little sober, I'm grateful, but now I think it's time for you to leave and I don't want you coming back unless you are invited."

"Wait... What? Cyn?!" He reached for her but she pulled back sharply, jumping up from the couch. She moved back, away from him. He stood up, following, but she raised her hands in defiance.

"Stay the fuck away from me. I decided I'm not dealing with you any more. Go fuck Denise and pretend she's me. I don't care what you do, but stop bullshiting me. You're half-assing and I'm not having it anymore. I want it all or I don't want anything. Get the hell out of my apartment."

"Damn it, Cyn. What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about. I'm talking about you not giving me what I want. I want you to fuck me—for real. All this shit we've been doing has been a front of some sort. It's like some where in that fucked up mind you think things are ok because you haven't crossed the line. It's as if because your dick hasn't actually been in my pussy it isn't sex. We aren't fucking. If I'm sucking you off then that isn't sex. If your dick is up my ass that isn't sex, so technically you aren't doing anything wrong. You aren't fucking your sister and you aren't cheating on Denise because you are a "good man." Well guess the fuck what? Youare fucking me. Youare cheating on Denise and youare committing incest. So wake up!"

His body was tense with anger. He could barely look at her. His whole body turned away from her as if he could somehow reject her words by not giving her his complete attention. Slowly he turned back to her, cautiously.

"All right. If what you say is true. Weare fucking. Why the hell you complaining? I'm giving you what you always wanted. What your sorry ass been stalking me for since the moment you figured out what a dick was for. Why the hell are you still bitching?"

Screaming, she ran to him pissed. He almost thought she would attacked him, but she stop short, right in front of his face, almost on top of him, forcing him to acknowledge her. Her hands were raised, like claws, hovering over his face. She looked as if she wanted to scratch him to pieces, but didn't. Perhaps she was afraid she'd do permanent damage if she made actual physical contact.

"Because in your mind it still isn't real. In your mind you can ignore the fact that it hurts me when you walk away and don't acknowledge me as your lover."

"Acknowledge you? Damn, where the hell is this coming from all of a sudden? Are you fucking crazy? This isn't some damn fucking romance novel. You're my sister. Incest is illegal!"

"I know that!"

"You sure don't fucking act like it. What the hell I'm supposed to do, take you to mom and dad and say guess what? Throw a fucking party and introduce you as my new girl?! Have you lost your mind?!"

"No! Of course not, you idiot. I just want—"

"What? What the fuck do you want?!"

"I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME!"

She screamed the words. If the neighbors didn't hear their argument before they surely heard her now.

"I want you inside my pussy. In me! I want to cum around you. I want you filling me up. When I cum with you your way I'm empty. When you fuck me it's always in my ass. With my back to you. So you can separate yourself from the action. Like I'm some random bitch. Any bitch other than me. Me! Cyn, your sister.

Do you have any idea what is like to share yourself with someone who makes it clear with each touch he desires you as much as you do him, yet he hates himself for wanting you? That he wishes you were someone else? Like loving you makes him feel dirty. So he'll just nut and move on?"

"Cyn. That's not true," he looked in her eyes then; the pain there tore at his heart. He reached for her.

"No!" she pushed him away. "Get away from me. I don't want your bullshit answer. I know it's wrong. You think I like wanting you? You think I like hiding in this apartment having one of the greatest sexual experience of my life then walking out in the real world like nothing ever happened? I don't, but I accept it and I deal with it.

What I can't stand is you not acknowledging us—you and me as lovers. Oh, I can lie to the world, no problem, but I can't stand the lie between us. And I hate it! I hate you for making me love you. I hate you for making me want you. I hate you for being my brother. I hate you and I hate me for not having any control. I hate myself for my weakness. I hate wanting you, despite everything. I hate I hate I hate, god damn it!"

She was thrashing around uncontrollably, knocking items off tabletops in a rage. She couldn't hit him so she destroyed everything else.

"Why can't I stop wanting you? Why? Why?!'

She was blinded in her pain; unfocused in her movements. Her tears prevented her from seeing the chair in her path as she made her way around the room. She nearly fell. He came behind her and caught her before she hit the floor.

"Cyn, baby. I'm sorry. Don't cry."

He held her as her body shook from the intensity of her sobs. His body spooned hers. He pulled her close. She was bent over, in agony from her heart and her need to get away from him. She begged him to leave her alone; to not touch her anymore; to be the strong one, again. She couldn't do it. Knowing what she knew now, she couldn't go back to before, before the time without his touch, his kisses. It was bad before, she said, but now she was in hell. She begged him to go, and never come back. She didn't want to ever see him again.

Her words were like knives in his heart. He loved her. And he was confused. He didn't know what kind of love between them existed anymore. Yes, it was part instinctive love, the love you can only have for one of your own flesh and blood, but it also was more than that. He suspected part of him maybe a little bitin lovewith her, too. But he also loved Denise and wanted very much to make her his wife and have children with her, despite how much she hurt him before.

He didn't know what to do. He was confused. He knew that the words she said were true. He was lying to himself about the realty of their relationship. He was holding himself back and it was affecting the way he treated her. The tenderness that was once between them was gone. On the surface he told himself it was because of the sex, he knew she liked it with a little edge, but that wasn't completely true. He was trying to keep her away from his heart; he was trying to minimize his desire for her by treating her as only a sex object.

He held her, not just for her comfort, but also for his own. He kissed her neck, slowly. His words were soft and gentle. He calmed her. Her tears slowed. She began to relax in his arms, not longer fighting him or his touch. She gave in to the pleasure of his kisses.

That is when he noticed the curve of her ass along his cock. He instantly hardened. His movements were unconscious. He slowly began moving behind her, grinding his hardening flesh against her softer one. Her smell was intoxicating. Each stroke of his lips against her heated neck reminded him of the pleasure he knew she could give him. He got lost in the feelings.

His hands began to roam. No longer concern with keeping her safe, they explored the skin under her t-shirt. She was moist with sweat. His hands slid over her soft skin, upward, cupping her breasts. Holding her close as he whispered in her ear over and over--'I'm sorry.'

Her soft moan of acceptance was all he needed. One hand stayed on her breast, stroking her nipple. The other flowed back down, finding the heat deep within her pants. She was so wet, but she was always wet when it came to him. He never once found her unready for his entry, but he never went that route. He inhaled sharply, taking in more of her scent as the lust washed over him at that thought—she always being ready for him to fuck her; she always ready to obtain the 'required' position.

Her hips moved to the stroking of his fingers in her moist cunt. Her legs opened just a bit wider to allow his fingers better access. They dipped in the cave of her pink hot center with ease. It was as if she was always waiting for his penetration of her body. He stroked her, bringing more juice forward. Their breathing increased, became harsher with each second. She moved with him, helping him fuck her pussy.

He had to have her. Now. He had to be inside. Releasing her breast and removing his digits from her pussy, her pushed her shorts down over her hips, just enough to expose her. Unzipping his pants he released his dick—red and hard. He stroked her pussy again, this time not with his fingers but with the head of his cock. She was so wet it didn't take much for her to lubricate his whole shaft in seconds. Who needed KY jelly? Gripping her hips he used his body to push her forward. They reached the arm of the chair when she made her first protest.

"No."

He gently kissed the small of her back and applied wet fingers to its center, steadily pushing her forward.

"No," she said as she found herself bent over the arm of the chair. Her face found the soft padding of the seat.

"Sin, baby. I need you. I need you so much."

He griped her hips with one hand and parted her cheeks with his other hand. His cock found the hole of her anus and almost instantly began to slide inside.

"Noooooo." She cried. "Please, Michael. Not like this please. Please."

It was her tone that stopped him. It held passion, she did want him, but it also held pain. The pain she just shared. He never thought he'd hear her beg for anything, really beg. When she begged before, for sex, for his dick, it was more of a command than a plea. He never heard vulnerability such as he heard at that moment. She didn't fight him. She didn't push him back; she didn't try and stop him in anyway. She simply begged and in that moment he felt like the worst piece of shit to walk the face of the earth. He had taken advantage of that vulnerability.

His breathing calmed. The desire began to die down. His dick was still hard, and he still wanted her, but the urgency that was once there, the desperation was gone. Pulling free of her, he moved completely from her body. He watched her lie there, crying softly. She didn't even bother to get up. Her moist wet ass stayed risen. He tucked himself back inside his pants and sighed. He leaned over her and kissed the pink skin of her ass. Then he pulled her shorts back up and helped her stand. Turning her around, he looked into her deep brown eyes and kissed the edge of her nose.

"I'm sorry," he said, walking toward the apartment door.

"Why?" her whispered question stopped him.

"Why what?"

"Why are you so afraid of me?"

He didn't know how to answer, so instead he said nothing. Never looking back, he left.

~ Hello everyone. I hope you liked part three of the series. Part four, the final piece, is right around the corner; in fact it might already be out as you read this. I would love to hear your comments on this story, so whether it is done publicly or by e-mail, let me know. And if you don't want to say anything, then vote. The numbers also tell me what you like and they help me improve my style. Thank you. Fantasy Kiss~