Ingrid (Act 1 of 2)

Ingrid switches to masturbating one-handed. She brings a couple messy fingers to her lips, kisses them, and then touches them to her brother's lips. He kisses them back. This is how they used to kiss, sometimes. Except that airport number.

"H-hey Sis," he says, talking through smooshed lips.

She doesn't remove her stinky, juicy, sister-flavored fingers from his lips. She presses there, intently, almost sort of diddling his mouth.

"Yeah Bro?"

"I'm going to cum now. I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum." Her eyes are watching his, eagerly absorbing what she sees. "I'm--Ingrid--"

Will goes warm, then hot, then boom.

"Here," she tells him matter-of-factly. She parts his lips with first one damp fingertip and then the other. Taps his teeth. He shutters as the first bolt of thunder rumbles through him.

Will accepts his sister's fingers into his mouth. She shoves them in far. His tongue presses back, and they wiggle playfully. Then she pulls them out. He swallows. The flavor is intensely salty, fruity, sweet--

It is Will's turn now to arch is back up off the mattress, to pop his ankles and splay his toes, and to make grandiose moans of catharsis. Ingrid keeps touching his face, caressing his cheek, feeling his jaw muscles as he cums. She flinches when some of her brother's cum splatters onto the back of her forearm, then laughs when the next spurt sprays across his own face. His big manly hips bounce up and down off the mattress.

"Fffuck," he gasps, watching jet after jet squirt out over his body, "Inge, I just--keep--"

His sister puts a hand over the hand on his cock. He moves his hand. She takes over milking him. His shivers of bliss make the mattress quake.

He grasps hold of one of her tits, firmly, squeezing her hard nipple as another encore rocks out of him onto his stomach.

And finally the gratuitous surging slows to a drizzle. He grabs his sister's hand, gives her a pleading look to stop. He brings it to his mouth and suckles again each of his little sister's disgustingly delicious fingers. He likes chewing them, the way her fingernails are hard but her fingertips are soft.

And then suddenly the smell of his own sibling's genital secretions hits him the wrong way, and it occurs to him that he has done something he should not have.

"Ingrid," he murmurs, "I'm--I'm finished."

"Took you long enough," she chuckles. "Can I ... have my hand back?"

"Oh, yeah," he releases her in a daze. A string of cum lisps across the space between his hand and her forearm, snaps loose, clasps onto to her. "Oh--" he says, appalled.

"I know," she pouts, acting hurt. "You came on your little sister."

"Oh, s-sorry," he mumbles.

The orgasm has left him momentarily unsexed, stripped naked to the permanent ramifications of his lust.

This is the darkest timeline.

This is trauma, even it hasn't sunken in yet.

Big brother has defiled his sister.

And God, he can still taste it.

Sadly, there are still hours yet until the drugs wear off.

"Hey Will?" Ingrid says, teasingly. "You've got something on your face."

"What--?" He reaches up. His nose and cheeks are slick with cum. He vaguely recalls ejaculating onto his own face.

"Oh," he mutters, still in shock.

"I'd get you a tissue, buuut," she sighs, feigning helplessness. She quietly grabs the leggings and throws them across the floor.

Will is stuck in his dark place right now. Ingrid's humor does not land.

The woman who has just helped him cum is family. Her voice is his sister's. Everything about her is mundanely familiar. She is naked, granted, but the big brother in him suddenly sees her as she is.

"You okay?" she asks, actual concern seeping into her voice. She snuggles up to him. Her hairy leg is still draped over his. She does a slow tickle-tickle on his calf with her toe.

He nods woozily at her, not wanting to disturb her, lest this get even uglier somehow.

She blinks at the string of cum on her wrist. She looks at him. He looks at her.

"I kind of want to taste it. Is that weird?"

"Sis, don't."

"I like how it smells. I want to lick it."

"Ingrid--"

"Shush," she warns him. "My wrist, my cum."

Still holding his gaze, she licks his cum all the way up off her arm in one long, time-bending motion. She holds it in her mouth a moment, a thoughtful look on her face, then shows it to him--it's a foggy white puddle on her tongue--before closing her mouth and swallowing. Why must it be so quiet in here?

She has, for the moment anyway, ceased masturbating, but left her raunchy odor hanging heavy in the air between them. It mingles with the stench of his cum. Both of which smells are also, of course, smeared all over his face. She seems to be making up her mind about something as she stares him down.

She suddenly leans over and kisses him on the cheek. Then she kisses him again, this time with tongue, still on the cheek.

"Here," she says. "I clean you up."

She grabs his cummy hand, the one he'd clutched at her with, and licks clean his palm, slurps down his fingers one at a time--each sort of rubbing down the center of her tongue and out the gentle scraping of her teeth--and finally sucks his thumb. She makes yummy snack-time noises as she tastes him. Will watches in acid-soaked delirium. When finished, his sister sets his hand down on the covers between them, laces her fingers between his, and holds it. It's refreshingly nostalgic.

"Stay still," she says affectionately. She keeps hold of his hand.

She scooches a bit closer to him, almost sort of onto him, and kisses his Big Bro nose with an open mouth smooch not unlike the kind she might once have used to gross him out as a kid, but instead she sips off his cum, swallows it, and then moves onto the globules staining his cheek. She kisses, sips, and swallows these as well. Each time she swallows, she kind of squeezes his hand to let him know she loves him. She lays back a little on one elbow, licks her lips, and then grabs his face. Studies it. Turns his head, first one way then the other, looking for any that she missed.

"All gone," she says, and kisses him cummily on the corner of his mouth. She rests her head on his spit-damp cheek as she regards his chest and stomach. "Well, except for that cumpocalypse."

Will lays there dissociating from the salty flavor on the corner of his lips.

His sister meanwhile disentangles herself from him and rises up all the way onto her knees, stretches way, way up, cracks her hips and back and shoulders. This brings her pussy to within a foot of her brother's nose.

As her brother, he can't help but stare in dismay. His little sister's vulva is glistening and enflamed, her labia red and engorged. There are little razor bumps, a pimple or two, and a few missed pubes. It all looks painful to the touch. The odor is almost gagging. Will looks on his sister's vagina and despairs.

"Yeahhh so," she says, gesturing at the pearly white Jackson Pollock slathering his body, "This is a bit much for just one girl."

"Yeah," he gulps drily. "I'll go clean up."

"No, no," she says. "I mean it's a bit much just me."

"What?"

"But the two of us together? Bro, we can do anything we put our minds to! What do you say, lend me a--mouth?" She grins, amused with herself.

"N-no? How about we just--let me--" his terrified hand gropes around for the leggings she had offered him earlier. "Where'd they go?"

"You look troubled, big brother. What's on your mind?"

He can't remember if she had really handed him her leggings or not.

"I feel kind of--strange right now, Sis." He dips a finger into the lake of cum pooling around his belly button. It's a lot.

"I'm sure you do." She takes his finger and brings it to her lips to suckle on it. She laps up the length of his finger, pops it in her mouth, and sucks the whole thing out again. She grins at him. "But give it a minute. I have an effect on people. You'll be back to that old sporting mindset in no time."

She sucks his finger into and out of her mouth very, very suggestively.

"Inge ... Why are you doing this?"

Ingrid cackles.

"Que voulez-vous dire, Bro?"

She drops his finger. She puts her hands on her hips and leans over him. With the sunlight at her back, her face is dark and cloying.

"I just--I can't. I don't know what to make of this anymore. I really need to get up."

"Poor baaaby," she says, her voice like cold syrup. She throws a leg over her brother's hips. Almost straddles him, but doesn't sit. He is drenched in cum.

"I'm sorry, I just--I need to get up," he grunts, and starts to sit up.

"Nonono," Ingrid panics. She plops herself down on her brother's lower stomach, hard. Will snorts as the wind crushes out of him unexpectedly.

His little sister looks down at the mess she's just sat in. Already he can see her pussy sort of burbling in it. She frowns at him.

"Awww, NOW look. You just made this that much harder for us!"

Chapter Five

"Now, I was originally just going to do this," Ingrid says, and lays down onto her brother's chest until his nipples and hers are practically aligned. Her hot sweat and his cum make a wild sandwich filling between them. Her scorching pussy grinds into his hairy pelvis. His cock, only halfway to flaccid, stirs as her ass crack backs up onto its base and parks there.

He can smell cum on his little sister's breath. Her dreamy little face is inches from his own. She looks almost infatuated.

"We could have simply cleaned each other's bellies and been done. Would have been about as PG-13 as it got. But nooo. Big Bro had to go and make it Rated-R."

"Ingrid," Will wheezes, "I don't know what--R-rated movies--you've been watching--but you can't expect me t-to clean you with--how you cleaned me?"

"Oh, but I do expect it," she smiles. "You made this mess. You can at least help clean it up."

"Ingrid, please get off. I mean it. I'm crying uncle, here. We have got to stop!"

"Will," she says, and grinds her pussy and ass back a little bit further, soaking the base of his shaft. Again, she grabs his face. She is always grabbing his face. This time, she clamps a stinking hand over his mouth.

Her frown is deadly serious.

"Will, listen to me."

"?"

"I am going to ask you something."

"..."

"And I need you to tell me the truth."

Will can't speak with her hand over his mouth. This is her dominant hand. Her wanking hand. The smell of her, brutally rich in his nostrils, is ... getting to him?

He notices, with faint relief, that his misgivings are already beginning to depopulate again. Acid to the rescue. Sort of.

"Do you have a secret folder on your computer full of pictures of me?"

The bottom of Will's mind drops out altogether.

Chapter Five, Part Two

Something like actual electricity surges underneath his skin, hurting him, and he has a painful, pragmatic realization: right now, he would fail a polygraph test. With his little sister's LSD still rowing merrily down his stream, the notion of lying right now seems futile bordering on dangerous.

His sister has him by the face and has asked him a question--THE question--that he has never ever everever wanted to be asked (again).

"Do you or do you not have a secret, hidden folder on your computer full of pictures of ME wearing swimsuits, skimpy outfits, tight-fitting dresses, et cetera? Lick my hand once for no, twice for yes."

The stench of his little sister's hand is Wizard of Ozzing from disgusting to technicolor-treat-like in real time as he panics through his nose.

He wants to lick much more of her than one yes's worth, to take her whole hand into his throat if she is amenable, and to throw her off of him, yank her ass over teakettle up into his face, and plunge his whole creepy soul into the wet scalding source of the problem itself.

Why had he despaired earlier? He forgets. His little sister's cutely pasty cunt had looked and smelled like her. Her outer labia were young and puffy and exuberant. Her clitoris, her secret sensitivity, kind of shy and protected, angsty and darling. Her inner labia, well, he hadn't seen them yet, but he loved that air of mystery about her. And how her cunt had smelled. Apish but addictive, ferocious but familial: he needed to get closer, to smell harder, to--

"WILL."

His last few misgivings hop lemminglike off the cliff at the back of his mind. He licks twice.

"Yes?" Ingrid cracks a disconcerting smirk, loosens her clamp on his mouth so he can speak through her little cage of fingers. "Yes what?"

"I do."

"You do what?"

"I do have a folder. With pictures. Of you," he mumbles through her hand.

Ingrid snorts with smug satisfaction.

"Good. That was a test, and you passed. Next question: Why?"

"?"

"Why do you have a folder full of nasty pictures of your little sister? What for?"

"I ... you ..."

"If you lie to me right now, Will? Then I am getting off you, I am taking a cold shower, and I am leaving this place for good. We are never talking again. And you live alone for the rest of your sad, creepy life."

She raises one knifelike eyebrow at him.

"... Sis--"

"I'll do it," she threatens. "Tell me the truth: why do you have a bunch of fucked up photos of me on your computer?"

"Because--" he barely has time to think before the truth comes rambling out of him, "I love you. I love you, Ingrid. I can't help it."

"Of course you can't," she blushes, "but you're dodging the question."

She wrenches her lower half on him, grinding and squishing and squeezing ever further down his cock, all while studying his face with indignant glee.

"The sooner you get through these questions the sooner we can get back to the task at hand. This stuff creeping up my ass isn't exactly getting fresher by the minute."

"Sis, are you seriously ex--"

"Answer the fucking question, creep."

"Okay," he groans. "I have a folder! It's all just pictures of you. That you've sent me or posted online. I use the ones where you look ... I mean--I masturbate to them because--because--I don't know, because I'm sick? Because fuck me, Sis, that photo of you with your underwear model-looking friends at the beach, the one where you're all sort of laying back with your--well, it's a favorite. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

All of this comes geisering up out of him through his sister's fingers. It's maybe too much. Sadly, more is on the way.

"And I used to steal your underwear! Out of the laundry! Okay? I would take them to the bathroom and I would sniff them. I would lick them. I would put them in my mouth. But I--but I never came in them or anything. I always just slipped them back into your laundry after I was done. I don't think anyone ever noticed. And I feel genuinely gross every time I remember that I actually did that. You were just a kid."

"Wow. My brother, the panty-sniffer. Honestly? Not surprised." Ingrid nods, her face inscrutable. "But ... hey, you came clean. Plus a bonus confession."

"I'm sorry. Sis, I've hated myself all these years over you. Are you, are you ...?"

"Am I what? Disgusted? Uhh, yeah? But am I angry?" She thinks about this for a second. "Not really." She unclamps his mouth and pats his cheek. "I still love you, Bro. I still think you're a good person. Thank you for coming clean."

"Oh God," he heaves, his heart suddenly beating again, "Oh God. I don't even know where to begin. INGRID. How did you find OUT?"

"How do you think, dummy?"

"... Mai-Lee," of course. Her name makes his skin crawl.

"I was so sorry to hear it didn't work out between you two," Ingrid frowns sarcastically.

"She told you."

"Well, to be fair, she and I were sort of," and now suddenly Ingrid looks almost bashful, "close."

"Excuse me what? What is 'close'? Close how?"

"We might have ... texted here and there."

"About what?"

"About ... you. Me. Her. You know, stuff."

"What stuff do you and my girlfriend have to text about?"

"FINE. We sexted, dude. We sexted. She came onto me and I liked it. We sent each other dirty messages and, like, pictures. I'm sorry but it was awesome. She was hot, and she was dating you. I wanted to tell you eventually, somehow. I just couldn't figure out how. I didn't want you to blow up. But well, whatever. Obviously that whole situation just kind of fell apart on its own."

"She cheated on me?! With you?!"

"Uhh," Ingrid scoffs indignantly, "need I remind you of what is sitting on your computer right this moment?"

Her photos. His shame. Her discarded yellow panties.

Will squirms underneath his little sister. She has him pinned in a humpy, full-body sandwich hug, and his turncoat cock has, as of a few luxurious, butt-crack intensive pulverizations ago, allied itself with the enemy, would right now proudly die for her.

"You KNEW. You've KNOWN. The whole time. The WHOLE TIME? Since--fuck, since FEBRUARY?"

She sighs, her cummy breath tempting his nostrils. "It's kind of nice to have it out in the open, right?"

"And then you--" he stammers as she rises up just enough to lets his cock flip up onto his belly, before planting herself back down onto it and resuming her slow, torturous grinding, "--so you gave me ACID?!"

Will is dizzy. Angry. Horny.

"Yeah," she makes a 'whoopsie' face. "I thought it might help us with this conversation."

"FuckSisplease--can you--OH God. Sorry," he laughs a little, hates himself for it, hates his sister's naked strength, "Was this premeditated? Sis? Mmmohgod--?"

"Premeditated? Bro, I didn't plan this," his sister quiets, letting them both just savor the slowly building wonderful feeling gathering between them. "I really--mmm-meant what I said, about just riding the groove today. I only 'planned' the part where I asked you to confess. I also hoped to tell you some secrets of my own, too, if you told me yours first. Even then, I didn't really--God, fuck, your cock feels good, fuck--hm, sorry, hoo, sorry. I just got carried away, okay? So sue me. You seem to be having fun, too!"

"I can't. I can't breathe. I need you to get off me."

Ingrid lifts herself off of her brother just enough to let him draw a few deep breaths, holding herself in a kind of half-push-up above him. "Heyhey, calm down. I'm with you, Bro. We're okay here."

"I don't understand what's happening, Inge. Am I dreaming? Is this the acid trip?"

"Maybe," she says, and lowers her face to his again. She kisses him on the lips, serenely, and then lets go and holds her face just millimeters above his. All he can see is her.

"Will," she gives him a soft, sisterly kiss. "Close your eyes. Breathe in. Hold it for four seconds. Breathe out."

Will breathes in.

Four seconds go by.

Will breathes out.

"Do it again."

He does.

Little sister just lays on big brother and feels him breathe for a minute or two. She breathes, too. She can feel his heartbeat. It goes from faster to slower than hers.

After a moment, she whispers, "Hey, you relaxed?"

He nods. She scooches up a little and kisses him. This time, her lips stay connected to his. He parts her lips with his tongue. She opens her mouth. They taste each other. He finds he doesn't mind his sister's cummy breath. There are other flavors too. Flavors he grew up smelling and never thinking much about. She separates, gives him another peck, then lets heaves a curious sigh.