Costume Caper

Harder.

The thought that his stern, tender, intense sister could be the one panting hard beneath him remaking his mind. The masks, the unknown, the idea that they could do something so wrong and that it could feel like this. It didn't matter any more who it was. Just for tonight, they were someone else. It wasn't Mike and Claire, or Mike and Clara. It was the nameless superhero fucking the cat woman. And the superhero was getting close.

"I'm gonna cum", he said.

She pulled him in for a hard, hot kiss, thrusting her hips back against him. His head slipped beside hers, and he kissed her neck, nuzzling into her. He couldn't hold back any longer, and as her legs wrapped around his hips, holding him in, he came, hard and hot, rope after rope inside her.

"Cla- ah!"

When the storm subsided, he kissed her, again, softly, tenderly.

She kissed him back, and pushed him off. She zipped herself together, and made to leave. "Nice work", she said, in a husky voice. Claire. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

He took a moment to collect himself, tucked everything back in, and made his way downstairs. He found Claire quickly, and moved behind her, kissing her neck again. She pushed back against him, shrugging him off, and turned to give him a flat stare.

"Fuck, Clara, I'm so sorry." He knew he said it, and knew she couldn't hear him.

Claire rescued him, coming up and giving him a long, deep, half-drunk kiss. She muttered something into his ear at roughly the volume of a jet plane, and he nodded while staring at Clara.

Later, as they made their way home, he sat between them. He couldn't help but look from one to the other, still unsure. He got home and felt like crawling straight into bed. He tried to pull Claire with him, but she was busy texting. Clara had already made for her own room, and Claire begged off. She went to the bathroom and had a long shower. When she came back, fresh and clean, she cuddled into him. He kissed her, softly, drinking in her scent, the feel of her. She kissed him, hard. Her hands began to roam. His did too. Soon they were naked, pushing against one another.

Mike's hand worked down, feeling her smooth, bare mound. "What made you shave?"

She stared at him for what felt like a long time. "Maybe I just wanted to say thank you for Halloween in March." Her normally husky voice had dropped an octave from shouting at everyone over the pounding music. "Why don't you take a closer look."

Mike didn't object. He slid down, further than he needed to, kissing his way back up her thighs, drinking in the sight of her. He reached her slit, and took a long, slow lick. He lapped at her juices, and tongued her clit hard, then soft, then hard, until her thighs clamped around him.

"Ready for round two?" he asked. She nodded, slowly. He slid into her, and they made love, gently. Mike cupped her face, kissing her cheeks, her eyes, her neck, her lips. He arched his back and thrust into her; she arched hers to meet him. Their movements took on an intensity. He buried his face in her hair, slammed into her, wondered if she felt different to before. He wondered if he had fucked Clara. He looked into the warmth of her eyes, closing as she came. She clamped down on him gently, and he wondered if the two of them had worked together. He kissed her deeply, and wondered if his cum was inside his sister. He couldn't hold back; he sank within her and panted as he came.

In moments, the two were asleep.

Mike slept fitfully, and woke to half-remembered dreams of cat suits and the unknown and a throbbing erection. He looked to his side, and saw Claire, half covered in the bed sheets, facing away from him. He realised that from this angle it could just as easily be Clara. He felt like kicking himself; how had he not seen the resemblance before? He had never even really looked at Clara - not properly, and not through the lens of lust. She was just there. And when they met, Claire had worn glasses. The similarity of their names had given him pause, certainly. Right up until Claire kissed him, at any rate.

He was sure he'd been with Claire last night. But the thought of being with Clara had awoken within him. He got up, quietly, and went to make coffee. He heard a door shut, and turned to see the bathroom door closing, moments before the shower started. He stared at the coffee pot in his hands, half full with water. He thought back to last night. He had to know.

Mike crept back to Claire's room - their room, really, since he practically lived here. He peeked around the corner of the door, and saw Claire exactly where she had been lying before.

He crept further down the hallway. The apartment was old. High ceilings. Exposed piping. Keyholes in the doors. Of course, they used simple thumb-locks for the bathroom instead of a heavy tumbler key, leaving a perfect keyhole for him to press his eye against.

The room hadn't yet steamed up. He saw Clara walking towards the shower. His sister, naked. Ass swaying. He tried not to focus on it. She stepped in, and turned, tilting her head back. The hot water ran down her body, slicking her breasts, her waist, and the focus of Mike's purely innocent investigation: her pussy. He saw clearly she was shaved bare - just like whoever he had been with last night. He stood, too quickly, what little blood that wasn't taken by his hard cock rushing from his head and washing him away in a wave of dizziness.

Claire chose that exact moment to leave their bedroom. She paused, looking at him holding on to the bathroom door handle for support. "Come on big boy, you can hold it for a few minutes. I need some coffee." Her voice was gravelly, lower than he had ever heard it.

The thoughts seemed to slosh in Mike's partly-fueled brain. Claire seemed to think nothing was wrong. Clara seemed to think nothing was wrong. Had he imagined everything? The image of his sister's hot, wet body still seemed to shine in his mind. Eventually, he found his tongue, just where he had left it and not quite hanging out. "Sure. Let's go."

Mike made the coffee while Claire slumped at the table. "So," she said, "did you enjoy yourself last night?"

"You know how I am at parties."

"You know that's not what I meant. Maybe it was just me that had such a great time though. I seem to remember cumming my brains out, but maybe it was all a beautiful dream."

"Sssh! Clara could come in any second!"

"She's a big girl, Mike. You know I think she might even have had sex before?"

"Ha ha yes okay, but let's just keep it quiet. Please. Especially since she hasn't... you know... in a long time."

"That's what you think."

"What does that mean?"

"I have it on very good authority that she might have found herself a little something last night. Or maybe even a big something."

Mike felt his breath catch in his throat. "A boyfriend?"

"Some big dick superhero, probably. Just watch her closely, see if she's walking funny. I know I am."

A moment later Clara came into the kitchen, making straight for the coffee pot, clad in a short robe. Mike felt his gaze travel up her legs, telling himself he was just doing as Claire said. He tried not to imagine what he had seen through the keyhole. He tried not to think of her half-costumed and groaning beneath him. He failed on both counts.

He looked at Claire, who arched an eyebrow at him. He felt his cheeks warm, shrugged, and took a long, long drink of his coffee. Clara slumped down at the table with them.

"So. What did you do last night? Or should I say who. Mm. Whom." Claire couldn't keep the grin from her face as she quizzed her housemate.

Clara gave her a wry smile and glanced at Mike, face resuming its flat mask. "I don't know what you mean." Her voice was as husky as Claire's usually was. All three had dropped in pitch. Mike thought back to the two words he had heard last night, and felt his certainty erode further. He flashed back again to the hot feeling of his lover last night. Of her pressed against him. Kissing him deeply. Taking him within her.

"I think I'll have my shower." He made to stand. He sat down quickly.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked. Clara simply stared at him. He stared back. Her eyes were so cold.

"Nothing." he said. "Just finishing my coffee." He drained the cup, left hand gently and cautiously tucking his hard cock into the waistband of his shorts. He risked standing, and quickly turned, scurrying for the bathroom. He thought he heard a giggle behind him, but turned to see both women talking quietly.

He turned on the shower and hopped in before it could even warm up. The cold water did nothing to calm him down. He couldn't help but picture the night before. The half open catsuit, breasts spilling out. Shaven pussy. Her mouth on his cock. Her tongue lashing against his. His cock deep inside her as she came, hard. All of it could be Claire. All of it could be his sister. His hand pumped his cock. He thought of one, then the other, and knew he couldn't tell the difference. The thoughts merged; the two together. One sucking his cock, one kissing him deep. It didn't matter who was who, or how wrong it was. He came quickly, hot jets blasting the shower wall and rushing down the drain. He leaned into the cold wall, wracked with guilt and unsated lust.

If it was Clara, then Claire had to have been in on it. Unless she wasn't. She'd talked about having sex, but did she mean at the party? Or when they got home? If it was Clara, then Clara had to know at least; he was the only one in that costume. Could his sister have tricked him like this? He thought of her flat gaze. She looked at him with a kind of mild annoyance, and had since he'd met Claire. As if he was stealing her best friend. Could it be bizarre revenge? Was she trying to split him up with Claire? Or was it something else?

If he had fucked Clara, that meant he'd cheated on Claire, too. And why did he find it so fucking hot? She was his sister. It was so wrong. Sure, they hadn't been close, but that doesn't mean it wasn't incest.

His thoughts ran in circles until they too went down the drain. He left the shower feeling numb. He couldn't think of how to move forward, so he tried to put it behind him. He toweled off, clothed himself, and went to breakfast, smiling as if everything was totally normal.

* * * * *

Weeks passed and life seemed to fall back into the usual routine. He spent most nights at Claire and Clara's, some nights at his own place. He and Claire made love as often as they had before, and his relationship with Clara stayed as normal as it had ever been. Thoughts of her body, flashes of her beneath him came to his mind. He dismissed them quickly. Mostly. Sometimes it took a few minutes and a lot of heavy breathing.

Normal life, until a month later, when he came into their apartment to find Claire wearing her costume. At least, he was fairly sure it was Claire.

"Why are you wearing that?"

"Oh? Don't you like it any more?" She struck a long, stretched-out pose, arms above her head, hands laced, hips to one side. He couldn't deny the skin-tight outfit showed enough to draw him in, and concealed enough to make him want more.

"Of course, it's easy when there's someone so hot in it."

"That's such a good answer."

"But it's still not Halloween. It's probably even less "alloween than last time."

"I know. But I was thinking about how much someone enjoyed this outfit last time. And it cost money, too! Why not wear it, and use it, and have a little fun."

Mike closed the distance between them, pulling her close for a kiss. He grabbed her ass, kneading her into him. "I'm all for fun. Where's Clara?"

"If that's your idea of fun, I'm calling the police." Her eyes sparkled as she teased him. Mike couldn't help it, his cheeks flamed.

"No! I just mean... Can we be loud, is all."

Claire gave him a long look. "Don't worry. She's out." Mike replied with another, deeper kiss, and pulled at her zipper. "Ah ah! Not yet. Bedroom." She pulled him forward, and patted him on the ass, pushing him gently ahead of her into the half-lit room. The door closed behind him, too quickly, and she pounced, pushing him onto the bed and mounting him, kissing him feverishly.

Mike ground his cock against her, aching against the too-many layers of clothing between them. His hands caressed her back, sliding down to her hips, her ass, pushing her harder against him. Their hands worked between them, together, as she tugged at his belt and he felt the warmth of her breasts in his hand. She struggled with his belt, he helped her, quickly shrugging out of his jeans, his underwear, and his shirt. She rose above him, slowly unzipping herself, revealing the hot, wet warmth of her inch by inch.

She sank down, pressing her hot, wet slit against him, but Mike ached for more. He grabbed her, pulled her down to the bed, rolling on top of her. She gave a high yelp. Too high. He paused for a split second, and shook his head. He kissed his way down her body, between the valley of her breasts, cupping them as he passed. Down to her smooth, shaved mound, kissing the rise before sliding down to lap her wetness. His tongue dove into her depths, back to her clit, and back to press further within her soaking slit. She let out a soft gasp as he renewed his attack on her clit, and she started to clamp his head in her legs.

She gasped again, and pulled him forward. He slid into her in a single hot, wet stroke. She cried out in a high yelp, practically squeaking beneath him. He had never heard her make noises like this before. He pulled halfway out, and paused. He looked down at her body. She felt different. She moved differently. He looked into her eyes, and she gave him a flat look back. He moaned, and sank back in. Her arms crept around him, holding him close. He thrust harder, hitting the angle just-so. She panted beneath him, writhing, bucking her hips back against him. She crushed him into her, cumming hard, clamping down on his cock. The feeling was incredible. The sounds came from his mouth, unbidden. "Oh, Clara."

She froze. He froze. His stomach dropped as she reached up to her mask. Unclasping it behind her, she pulled it off, and he looked directly into Claire's eyes. "You really are filthy."

He felt light headed. He tried to dissemble. "What do you mean? I said "Oh, Claire, ah. What... did you think I said?"

She slapped his arm. "Don't lie to me. I can see you shaking. You've been caught." She pushed hard with one leg, and flipped him onto his back, following him to land on his crotch, his rapidly-shrinking cock trapped between them. "Tell me. Do you want to fuck your sister?"

"No!"

"Then why did you say her name?"

"It was an accident."

"An accident. If I 'accidentally' called you Brad would you believe me? Or would you know I was thinking about fucking someone else?"

"Who's Brad?" Her eyes blazed. "Sorry, sorry!"

"Should I tell Claire that her brother thinks about her while he's fucking me?"

"Please. Don't."

"Then tell me the truth!"

Mike thought for a moment. Claire could always tell when he lied. He was sure their relationship was over. But he could hopefully stop her from telling Clara. "At the party. Last month. When we had sex in the closet. Maybe because I was drunk, I don't know, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't you. Maybe it's because you shaved for the first time, or the costume, or something. But then the only other person it could have been was Clara, in that costume."

"So you've been thinking about fucking her for a month?"

"I haven't been thinking about fucking her!" he lied. She arched an eyebrow. "I haven't really, but I thought I might have done it. And it made me look at her differently. I saw how much she looked like you."

"Aw, how sweet. You want to fuck your sister because she looks like your girlfriend. Thank you, prince charming."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"I'm going to think about it."

"And... us?"

"I'm going to think about it."

Mike could only nod. "I'm sorry." He felt his face start to crumple. He knew he was disgusting. He couldn't help it.

Claire looked, for a moment, like she was reaching out to caress his face and comfort him. She seemed to snap back, and jumped off him. Her back turned, she spoke. "You didn't choose to feel like this. Please don't be upset. I just need to think for a few minutes."

Mike took comfort in her words, if only a small amount. She left the room, and he distantly heard the shower start. His thoughts circled, and he wondered if either of the women in his life would be able to look him in the eye ever again.

Clara came home shortly after. He could hear them chatting in the hallway. Fear gripped him, but he soon heard them giggling. Claire was putting on a mask of normality. Their chatter seemed endless and indistinct. Before Mike knew it, he had fallen asleep.

* * * * *

He woke in the morning to find Claire staring at him. Before he could speak, she began.

"Here's what we're going to do. You didn't choose this. But I need to know how you really feel. I'm going to test you. I'm going to find out if you really, really want to do that, or if it's just an idea that won't leave. And once I know for sure how you feel, we'll decide where we're going. Okay?"

Mike sighed in relief. There was hope. "Okay."

"First question. Who is your girlfriend?"

"You, Claire!"

"Are you sure I'm Claire?"

"Of course I am!"

"Look at me. Closely. What's the biggest difference between me and your sister?"

"Your eyes."

"How?"

"Yours are warm. Alive. Hers are flat. Angry."

"You really think she's angry?"

"Don't you?"

"I think she looks calm. Reserved." Mike wasn't sure what to say in response. Claire continued. "Honesty, from now on. Who do you think about fucking?"

"You!"

"And?" Mike gulped. He couldn't say it out loud, could he? Claire glared at him. "And?"

"Clara," he whispered.

"Good. Honesty is good."

"Did you tell her?"

"No. I won't, unless I feel like you really want to do it. Then I think she should know, don't you?"

"No!"

"Well, that doesn't really matter any more. Come on. Let's get breakfast." Mike slouched to his feet. He padded to the door before being pulled short. "One last thing, Mike." She pulled him in for a gentle kiss. "I still love you. No matter what. This might lead us somewhere where we can't stay together, but I can't help how I feel either."

Relief washed over him, deeper this time. "I love you too. Forever." He kissed her again, and she gave a soft smile before dragging him behind her.

At breakfast, he avoided looking at Clara until she asked him a direct question. Claire had to nudge him to get a response over whatever inane thing he was doing today. The other two shared a look, while he stared into his coffee.

The three went to work. That night, he came home later, and Claire was waiting for him in their bedroom. She beckoned him closer, pulling him in for a hard kiss. "I need you." Mike didn't hesitate. Moments later, they were naked together, and Claire's hand was wrapped tightly around his cock.

"Mm. Someone is eager," she said.

"Well, someone is hot. Can't help it."

"You want me to climb on top of you? You want me to put my hot pussy on your cock and have you deep inside me?"

"God, yes." Mike throbbed in her hand.

"Or do you want me to call Clara in and you can fuck her hot, smooth pussy?" Mike said nothing, but couldn't help it. His cock surged. "I see."

She worked her way down his body. He could feel her hot breath on his cock. "Do you want me to suck it?"

"Uh. Yeah?" Claire's only response was to practically inhale his cock, sucking him deeper than ever before. "Oh fuck, Claire, that's amazing."