Induct Son and Bro To Nudism

For sure, this is passion. In this magical place. We make wet tangled love with our mouths for a long time. Coming up for air, my brother fondles my breasts. He plays with my pendulous sag. I moan.

His mouth moves between my nipples. Licking. Nibbling. Sucking. Suckling. His hands on my heaving rib cage.

I am conflicted. On two counts. I am cheating on my husband. And this is incest. I stop his actions.

In whirling light, I lead my brother to the back of the cave. My brother sits and leans languidly against the cave wall. I sit next to him. Thighs touching. He gazes longingly at me.

We watch spellbound the play of light emanating from the cave entrance and the sea well. And the incessant rhythmic pounding of waves at the cave mouth.

The back of the cave is cold as damp rock is apt to be. I shunt over seeking warmth. I sit in front of my brother. I pause momentarily as if serving him notice of my next move. I recline gently on him, like he is a chaise lounger. After a minute of snuggling down to fuzzy comfort, I cock my head back to look questioningly at him.

Brother: I want you.

Me: I want to too. But, we can't... we just can't.

Brother: I want you.

My brother looks hurt. Devastated. I feel bad. I have teased him mercilessly, and now, I am cutting him off.

Me: Dry hump me. But, you can't go in. You can't. Please...

My brother rises. He pulls me up. We are standing. He pushes my back against the cool damp cave wall. Pins me down.

He grabs my wrists. Pulls my arms out, far extended, pins them down. I am in the position of a crucifixion. Nailed. This makes my breasts stick out invitingly. I close my legs. Clench my thighs.

What is playing in my brother's mind? Is this some kind of subconscious deep symbolism that is coming to the fore? An ancient religious cult ritual inspired by this cave?

Still holding my wrists, he presses his hard against my junction of smooth upper thighs and mound. Oh my God! This stab of tingle feels so good! So good!

We kiss passionately as my brother dry fucks me. As I sense the rising intensity of his pistoning, I instinctively tighten my clenched thighs. He reads this as my provoking him to piston harder, to breach my seal of thighs. His pace quickens as if goaded on by his imagined increasing thundering of the wave crashes at the mouth of the cave.

I sense my brother welling up. I loosen up some. I allow my brother entry, but only so far as the junction of my upper thighs and the bottom tip of the vee of my mound. He does not get to go in.

And then an epiphany hits me. This dry fuck crucifixion. There is an almost surreal familiarity to it. Hasn't it been just played out recently? The day before my husband left for his overseas assignment. Is this a coincidence? Is there a conspiracy a-swirling? That lusty video chat.

I open up.

I feel a thrust, a stab. My brother is in me. All of him. I contain him.

For a second, we are still as statues. Just our breathing. The throbbing of his shaft deep in my wet warmth.

He pistons me tenderly at first. As if possessed, then appropriated by some higher impatient force, he pounds me with intensity.

I clench mercilessly, then mercifully release his shaft.

Clench and release.

Clench and release.

Clench and release.

One more and he will go over the edge.

A prolonged clench.

A sudden release.

My brother emits a caveman's howl. It ricochets off the cave walls in eerie reprise.

Warm jets.

Spurt.

Spurt.

Spurt.

I shudder, then tremor, in cosmic harmony and unison.

We climb down. He withdraws. He lies on his back on the cave floor. My body locks atop his. Our fingers entwined. His hands drift down to grip my buttocks.

We kiss passionately. We fall into placid slumber. Serene as canned peach. I don't know how long.

I feel my brother pressing, pulsing against my centre. Our eyes flicker open.

The sea is swirling up through the well, like a rising whirlpool, flooding the cave. We will be drowned shortly. For sure, we will die happy. But, we have to take leave. Now!

We dive into the clear turquoise to try to find the remnants of the collapsed rock face.

I stand on the rubble rock pile. I strike an underwater ballet arabesque pose. My brother is suspended, hovering at my chest, performing an underwater ballet act of his own inventive concoction. He suckles my left, then right nipple. Like he is drawing the air of life from them.

He drifts south to my mound. He nibbles me, like a fish feeding on morsels. He flashes the diver classic OK signal to indicate that all is good.

I have never held my breath this long. I can go on just forever. Eventually, we surface.

The End