Beyond His Control

Nine years eight months two weeks and three days. That's the gap that separated Walker from his newly turned eighteen year old little sister, Splenda. Luckily for her, her name was actually Gabriella, nickname having been coined by their diabetic father who found her 'most artificially sweet' whenever there was something she badly wanted.She wasn't spoilt, she just knew how to bend people to her will with sweetness.

And Walker should know, she'd used those talents on him more than once to her advantage, the last of which being getting him to agree with letting her live with him over a thousand miles away fromt heir parents so she could attend what she called 'the only performing arts high school in the country with an irish step-dancing course'. It was this goofy reason she said that formed her decision on transferring to Crestridge for her senior year, but Carol their mom had confided that she believed Gabby had secretly wanted to be near him.

It wasn't completely far fetched. Their age difference had meant that he's been away from her for almost as long they'd lived together. And since they'd maintained a very amicable relationship regardless, it wasn't at all questionable that she'd want to spend time with him.

But a part of him, a part he wished didn't exist, wished that it were... farfetched that is. It wished she'd had a whole other reason fro wanting to be with him than the filial.

In the three months since she'd carted her belongings int o his second bedroom he had devised way s to squelch his newly developed, unwanted urges hwere she was concerned. Too bad none of them were working now. And all she was doing was sitting beside him on his living room sofa, studying form her notebook, red hair tied up neatly in a bow at the nape of her neck. He could tell from hwere he was, sitting all the way back, laptop where its name allowed, that she was lightly biting on her pink lips. Just the thought of that made him guilty as sin for knowing every detail about those lips save how they tasted.

Let's backtrack a bit, for it's not easy to describe these feelings without first telling their origins. Walker left home for college a newly minted seventeen year old, being accepted to an ivy league university with a full scholarship to pursue law was too much to say no to. So he moved across the country then, still a minor but so mature and trusted by his parents that their was little need for their concern. Perhaps they should have been though as Walker had fallen into the same trap most newly emancipated do upon entering college, regardless of their high I.Q.'s. He promptly immersed himself in the parties and sex he had kept at bay for schoolwork in high school.

He immersed himself so completely that he became known as "Walker the Keger Stalker" to his buddies and "Walker the Pussy Stalker" to the ladies. Resulting in the very real possibility of him nearly losing his scholarship, which wouldn't have been too awful as his parents would have been able to finance him. But when his very spot at the school became threatened, supposedly by the delineation of his grades, but really because of his dalliance with the Dean's wife, he'd been snapped awake, and was barely able to correct the problem before his parent's heard word.

When gone was the excessive partying and sex, Walker realized that he'd never really been 'That Guy', he wasn't the dumb ass at the party who didn't know how to stop. He'd worked out a balance, maintaining his friends and his work was an easier thing when he had his priorities straight.

His time at university and later on, on his own, was interspersed with holiday trips home, and once when Gabby had turned sixteen, a family trip to Morocco. It was that which had started his unholy fascination. After graduation, Walker had moved to New York to start an internship with a well established law firm, further widening the gap between him and his folks. With his father Thomas Pantry being a ridiculously successful heart surgeon, and his mother, Carol, the devoted wife who loathed to leave her husband's side, their visits had become fewer and further in between. So little Splenda, as sweet as something derived from sugar could be, had demanded that everyone found a week, the week that brought her birthday to take her on a trip.

Her parents had been inarguably won over by her defense that it would take less money for them to do that than to throw her one of those exorbitant sweet sixteen parties that were fast becoming a law buying her a ridiculously inappropriate car where the ribbon that would wrap it would cost more than the shots she would need for the trip.

Walker had needed less coercion, he'd already been too long away from them and the holiday would do him good. And so for six days Walker witnessed his budding kid sister practicing her wiles we 'ere she could, including on him. He had at first taken it for what it was, Gabby testing the waters of her womanhood, the sweeping looks from under her brow, and the unprovoked, ergo sultry pout just test runs for the real thing. But somewhere along the line his wires had crossed, no longer was he merely amused by her attention, he'd developed a rating system for how effective each of her little tricks were, and he'd be forever damned because of the scale by which he judged them.

He'd seen her three times over the next three years, and that had only strengthened his unnatural attraction, and now after three months of living with her, dropping her to school every morning, breathing the same air as she, it was no wonder he couldn't stop thinking about undoing her copper hair to test for himself how silky it was. And that just wouldn't do. He had absolutely no intention of ever compromising their relationship. He just needed to hold out for however long it would take for this strange period to pass.

Anyway, he had distractions, he thought, reminding himself to look instead at his computer screen. Work now was for the defense of his usual type of clients. Rich wall-street types who were more often guilty than not. And there was Lori, or Tiffany or Sonia and if he so decided, since she was already dropping all the hints, Rachel.

He had the means to keep his mind busy... save in those moments. She was right beside him, and he could smell her shampoo, vanilla and nutmegs. So unlike the strawberries and melons other girls used.

"Walker?" she broke him from his thoughts.

"Hmm?" He asked.

"Is there a law against how much homework teachers are allowed to assign over the weekend?"

"Not that I know of," he said with a chuckle.

"Well, there should be."

"But you do it anyway," he pointed out, dropping his hand before he could touch her fat braid.

"Because I have to. The system is set up for me to fail if I don't," she turned to him, focusing her blue-eyed attention. "So I have no choice but to brave the severe neck pain caused by my hunching over my books for hours on end." And then, from under her brow, one of her looks.

"Will you rub it for me?"

He should have sensed it coming. "I really need to finish this, Splenda." He called her that to let her know he knew what she was doing. Then came the pout and he felt that familiar unwelcomed pull in his groin.

"Please?" She asked.

Was there some world, in some universe, where he could just say no to her? Anyway he felt it might be better if she were to train those eyes somewhere else. Like the other side of the room, so he motioned to her to turn around and she yelped, excited to have gotten her way.

He closed his work station and placed it on the table beside him, and reached his hands forward to her bare shoulders. Trying to keep his breathing steady because she'd pulled down the sides of her shirt to expose a lightly freckled expanse of skin. He closed his thoughts and started rubbing her knotted muscles. Squeezing tightly and pushing at them like a former girlfriend who'd been a masseuse had taught him.

Very soon he felt the muscles relaxing and he said, "That's better, right?"

"Yeah, except now my head feels like it's being torn off."

"That'll pass," he assured, and because he couldn't help it... "Let me loosen your braid."

He reached forward and began to undo her long hair. When he was finished it hung almost to her waist all wavy and curled, and he had been right... silky.

"Can you rub my temples?" She asked, now turning around.

"Gabby, my deposition," but he really meant his cock. It was getting uncomfortably hard, he wasn't used to touching her for extended periods of time.

"But I can't study with a headache, and you caused it," she accused.

He was a lawyer, he could definitely punch holes into that argument, but he gave in and began to rub her temples. She shut her eyes and he feasted on her with his. She had long bangs that fell over her eyes and fanned the tops of her cheeks. He didn't understand how she wore them so long, but they were so cute on her, especially when she had to fan them to the sides of her face and out of her line of sight. She had gorgeous long eyelashes that curled up enticingly and tangled with the mass of hair in its way. And her mouth... he breathed in sharply but silently when he fixed on that, hands slowing just momentarily as he thought of leaning forward and meeting her lips with his own.

"It feels much better, Walker," she said.

He had to speak past the hitch in his throat. "This is gonna be even better," he said and moved his fingers around her head to the nape of her neck. He shouldn't do what he was about to. But to be honest, there was nothing stopping him. Whatever impulse there was employed to keep him from trying to seduce her was not present. He started to rub, in deep little circles the top her neck with two fingers of each hand. It was a trick he had used to turn on countless women before and it had always worked. He was not at all surprised when Gabriella's eyelids fluttered open to reveal her burgeoning arousal, before snapping back shut tightly. It was working, and he couldn't think to stop.

"Gabby?" He asked quietly.

"Yes?" She asked in a whisper.

"How does it feel now?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him, blue eyes turned grey surprising him with the desire evident there. "I..." she began but she couldn't find the words, she just stared at him, like in disbelief.

And he had the decency then to pause his ministrations. "Gabby," he began but couldn't finish, what could he say? And she was still looking, his hands still around her neck, faces just inches apart, and he was straining against his jeans just knowing what she must be experiencing. "Gabby," he tried again, but she was suddenly leaning in and kissing him. And before atoms could split he was leaning in and kissing her back.

No preliminaries, their tongues had met, and he felt her move in to straddle him moaning sweetly when she felt his erection through what must have been her panties as she wore a skirt. He spared no time weaving his fingers through her hair, crushing her lips to his, feeling as if a dream were coming through. She tasted so sweet, and she was such a good kisser. But he was too preoccupied to deal with any jealousy he felt that someone had gotten there before him.

There kiss was long and varied in pace, sometimes fast, probing, belying a hunger he couldn't believe she was sharing. And other times slow and sensual, he'd nibble on her lips or she'd run her tongue lightly along the roof of his mouth. But every second intensified the tangible heat between them, sparks shooting off where their sexes met to course through them, driving the tumult higher. She pulled away, gasping for air and he dove to the crease of her neck, suckling and nibbling, kissing with a fervor, and she was panting against his ear.

His left hand snaked up her shirt and his hand cupped lightly her breast through the fabric of her bra. She moaned, arching into him. "Touch it," she urged, reaching behind her to unclasp the straps. When he felt it give, he impatiently pushed it up her chest, out of his way and while one hand made direct contact with one of her engorged tips, his lips enveloped the other nipple through her cotton t-shirt.

"Ahh, Walker," she cried out sweetly as he'd sometimes dreamed she would. Her hands touched the button on his jeans, and she, through the haze caused by his teeth on her distended flesh, managed to free his cock from its denim cage, and hungrily wrapped her fingers around it.

"Fuck," he cursed viscously leaving her breast to coil her hair in his hand again, bringing her lips back to his. She stroked him with a hand made clumsy by the tight space between them and when the kiss was broken, she rocked back giving her more space to move.

"It's throbbing," she exclaimed in amazement as looked down at his hugely erect member.

He said, more turned on than he'd ever been before, "That means it likes you."

She looked up and into his eyes, then shuddered as a pre-orgasmic spasm coursed through her, causing him to realize two things at once. One, was that words really seemed to turn her on, and two, she was easing off his lap and bending her head towards his cock. And when her lips formed around his shaft, as maudlin as it sounds, he felt as though he had died and floated up to heaven. She sucked at the head tightly, and he had a thought that he was being pulled right into her through the slit of his sex. She was perched half in and half out of the chair, bent at the waist and ass up in the air. He realized quickly he could see their reflections in the tv screen, and the double play made him jerk with ecstasy.

He had to be dreaming, it wasn't really happening. Could his little sister, really have his cock in her mouth, tongue swirling around it in a way only experience allowed. But of course it was real. He couldn't feel this way if he were really sleeping. There was only so much the imagination could supply. He was definitely not imagining the lust filled look she cast him from her occupation. Every single one of his nerves were humming, even ones he had previously been unaware of the existence of. He was unable to stop himself from thrusting feverishly into her gaping mouth, she gagged a little at first, not having been prepared for that. Since the first, she had been very much directing the scene, but soon adjusted to the sweet assault.

"Oh fuck," he exclaimed when she lightly grazed her teeth against the nub of his turgid head, blurring the line between pleasure and pain. "Fuck, Gabby," that word was beginning to be the only one he could remember. He was going to cum soon. He wanted more, much more than this. So in one foul sweep, he dislodged her mouth from his drooling tool and drove her face up to his to find their lips together. He kissed her hard and strong, doing with his tongue to her mouth what he so desperately needed to replicate with other parts of their bodies. He held her back and looked into her glazed eyes.

"I want you, Gabby. Please say yes," he begged.

She withdrew, until she was standing before him, and he thought for sure it was ruined. But when she pulled down her panties instead of running away, he'd had his answer. Some gallant, or perhaps, stupid part of him made him ask, "Are you sure?"

She lay down on the floor at his feet, and again with the non-verbal, she used an index to beckon him forward; the intent in her eyes gleaming boldly as she parted her legs wantonly and exposed to him a rarity he'd thought to never see.

There was a very slight smattering of fine red hair meadowing her mons, the skin underneath seemed lit from the inside by the same deep flush covering the rest of her body. The result being a very pink pussy, positively gushing cum, he could see from a distance.

He might regret later not taking things more slowly, not replicating for her the pleasure she had given him just moments before, but right now he had only so much time left before anticipation alone would bring his climax. So without even removing his pants, he lowered himself over and into his baby sister.

Gabby went wild beneath him and he realized a heartbeat later why, as he broke through her last barrier to adulthood. She was still a virgin.

"Jesus Gabby," he felt such an expansion of his very heart and soul to know he was her first lover, thus, he stopped to rain little kisses all over her face. Her body lay twisting beneath him, searching for a way to take him further into her, adjusting to the alien feel of something big and hot occupying her dripping cavity.

"Ugh, Walker don't stop," she said with difficulty.

And Walker listened, setting gradually a wicked pace between her thighs. Their coupling took on a near frantic pace, driven by Walker's primeval need to spill his seed inside her and Gabriella's need to receive it. The entire room and it's contents became filled to the brim with their cries. They would later worry whether some had spilled over, announcing to their neighbors the pleasure two siblings could bring each other.

At some point Walker had wrestled her shirt and loose bra over her tits, and with his mouth, recaptured her nipples one by one. He was nearing his release, and so his entire life wore down to the mantle of getting her off as well. Never breaking pace, he reached his hand between them and touched his longest finger to her clit. Instantly she bucked beneath him and let out a cry that ended with a grunt of pleasure, so he swirled his finger around it faster, timing it to his thrust and her rise to meet him. Then his index joined and the surface area for giving her pleasure increased. He applied more pressure to his rubbing and she threw her head back and then reared forward to bite into his shoulder. He felt her come building inside of her as sure as he could feel his own, and like a dying star, his cock grew bigger, harder in anticipation for explosion. He cried out and she screamed for they had both reached the edge together quickening the pace of their fucking to milk every drop of goodness from the act.

And it was there, buried to the hilt in her, the last of his spunk already swimming happily up her body, she, still convulsing prettily beneath him, eyes closed and whimpering, that it set in... what he had just done to his little sister. And his guilt was something worth dying over. For as he stared at her he knew he would forever have etched in his mind the image of her cumming beneath him.

His cell phone rang and he started at the sound, feeling as if he'd been caught in the act of a heinous crime, so he left her. "Hello?" He asked as he stood up, taking his pants in one hand with him. He made the mistake of looking down at her, still writhing wantonly as aftershocked wracked her supple body, and completely missed what he was being told. "I'm sorry, could you say that again?" He said, turning away from her and redoing his pants at the same time. He closed his eyes tightly to try to concentrate on the voice in his ear, but that was a bad idea, for burnt to his retinas was the image of Gabby... cumming.

"Shit, Stan is that you?" he asked and because he still hadn't caught what was being said he improvised. We must have a bad connection, I can barely hear you. Speak up." His associate repeated a second time that their time was pushed up to two hours away and his guilt knew no bounds as he became grateful for the chance to leave. How could he fuck his little sister and then just leave? He hung up.

"The jury's rached a verdict," he said, still not having the courage to look at her. "I have to go."

"Help me up, please?" Gabby asked quietly, forcing him to turn around and take her hand. When she stood, she began adjusting her bra over her boobs and Walker looked down, not able to meet her eyes. But below the hem of her short pleated skirt came peeking his white, treacly sperm and he groaned, looking away.