Lost & Found: A Charm for Trinity

We continued to fuck, hard, in secret, whenever we could sneak away, or when Mom and Dad went out; as soon we heard the car pull away Scott would be yanking down his jeans and my panties and sliding his fingers in me as he pulled my ass-cheeks apart, getting me prepped and ready while I would be grabbing hold of his thick cock and sticking my tongue in his mouth. He would fuck me almost senseless, hard and urgent fucking that left me in a daze of orgasm and sexual overload, dripping sperm and radiating lust and need for him.

Sometimes, after I'd spent the morning casually brushing past him, and bending over in front of him, and 'accidentally' trailing my hand over his permanent erection and grinning slyly at him, Scott would offer to take me to the movies. We usually went to either the grind-house theatre all the way over in Springfield, or the art cinema near the university in Monte Vista, and we'd suck and fuck in the back row of the dark, empty movie theatre with only a Trouffaut movie for company, his cock feeling even bigger and stiffer than usual from all the teasing and stimulation.

Sometimes, for variety and to deflect any curiosity about our sudden need to go to the movies together, I would ask Scott, in front of Mom, if he'd take me to the mall in Roseville, and he'd act all reluctant but eventually agree once I mentioned that one or another of my hottie friends would be there. Hopefully Mom would suspect he was interested in some or all of my friends; if she believed that, so much the better; any attention we didn't get was good, as far as we were concerned.

We'd go to the mall, quickly buy any old thing just to get some logo bags to add to the lie that I'd gone there for the shopping, then go to a motel and get a room.

My darling brother would then spend the next couple of hours pounding his cock into any and every hole of mine, pumping his hot meat into me mercilessly, shoving his tongue into my ass while he stuck his cock down my throat, heating me up, and making me scream as he sprayed cum down my throat, in my pussy, in my ass, or all over my face! I was never so happy as when he was jamming his cock onto my mouth and flooding my throat with his delicious cream, shoving his tongue deep into my pussy and tonguing me into hysterics, or battering his thick, meaty cock into my taut and welcoming ass.

It all came to a sudden, crashing end the day Mom finally caught us. It had to happen sooner or later; we were humping madly in my room after she and Dad left for some church function; we'd already had one session and were going for round two when she found us. She only came back because she'd forgotten something, and of course we didn't hear her; we were in a world of our own, me gasping and moaning as Scotty relentlessly hammered his thick cock into my ass, and I guess she must have followed the noises we were making to find us in my room, naked as jaybirds, with me sitting astride my brother, his hands holding and squeezing my titties while he jammed his cock into me, his thick cream-pie bubbling out of my pussy from our previous fuck and pouring down over his hammering cock and balls while I groaned in sexual delirium.

In her eyes we probably looked like a scene from Sodom & Gomorrah, or Dante's 'Inferno', but whatever she thought, I nearly had an unfortunate episode when she shrieked like a fire-siren at the sight of the two of us 'in flagrante'.

Cue huge, unbelievably hysterical screaming session.

To say our parents were furious would be a massive understatement; Scotty and Dad almost came to blows. Mom was almost incoherent with disgusted outrage, but most of it seemed based on what the neighbors and that fucker Bell were going to say. Dad just stayed silent while mom went off like a sack of cats on crank.

We endured all the names, the expressions of disgust, of horror, of dismay and anger, but we stuck to each other. Mom didn't know what to do. I'd honestly believed she'd only ever had sex twice in her life, as evidenced by Exhibits A and B: Scotty and me, no matter Scotty's suspicions regarding her and her pastor, and all her mid-western prudishness and 1950's Bible-belt bigotry, ignorance and abhorrence of sex came trotting out to lash at the pair of us.

We sat silently, holding hands throughout the whole tirade, which pissed her off excessively, I have to say; that, and the fact that I was completely unrepentant about doing the wild mambo with my brother and I wasn't letting him go any time soon, or ever, for that matter. Scotty was my husband, my man, and it was going to take more than Mom's ignorance and prejudice and religious intolerance to pry us apart.

Dad was angry, yes, but nothing like Mom; he was mostly sad, he said, but then he started preaching about sin and Hell, and the evils of sex, the hypocrite, and pulled out that old fire and brimstone nonsense about how Scotty couldn't really be blamed, that 'temptation, woman is thy name' crap was trotted out right on cue, that women were unclean and ungodly ('So just like your wife and your mother, eh Dad?' hovered on my lips) before accusing me of seducing Scotty and tempting him away from the path of righteousness. It was at that point that Scotty finally lost it, his eyes glowing like emerald fireballs.

"Okay, that's it, Dad, enough of this bullshit! If you want to moralize, why don't you start by explaining why a deacon of the church has a collection of porn movies hidden in the garage? What happened between Trini and me, well, it's what we wanted. It's what we've wanted for years, and now it's happened, it's staying happened! Don't go bringing God into this; this is Trini and me being in love, and if you don't like it, that's too fucking bad!"

Dad tried to grab my arm, but Scotty knocked him away.

"Don't you touch her; don't you ever do that again, Dad, I fucking mean it!"

Anger blazed-up in Dad's eyes, but then sanity took over as he looked up at Scott, a head taller, 30 pounds heavier, and 25 years younger, reading his stance and seeing in his eyes and the set of his jaw his anger ready to boil over into violence, and his readiness to defend and protect me, whatever it took. To tell you the truth, it scared me a little that Scotty had that kind of anger on tap, but it also reassured me that everything he'd said about keeping me safe, no matter what, was being proved right there and then.

So Dad did the smart thing and backed down, realization dawning in his eyes that he'd lost us both. Mom, of course, didn't know when to keep her trap shut, and decided it was time for another tirade.

"What you're doing is illegal, and so, so wrong, don't you know that? You're not only breaking the law, you're breaking God's law too. If you don't stop this you'll burn in Hell! You should get on your knees and beg for forgiveness for your sin, for committing the sin of incest!" she shrilled, "If you get arrested, your father and I will never be able to hold our heads up in this town again! After all the years Pastor Bell has spent trying to lead you to the light, this is how you repay him? You're destroying this family, both of you!"

Scotty snapped at that, everything spilling out of him, all his anger and suspicion blasting mom like a blowtorch.

"So that's really what shoved a corncob up your ass? Trini and I need our parents to understand. Instead all you're concerned about is what your fucking congregation will think! What about you, Mom? Are you having fun when Pastor Bell fucks the shit out of you? I know what you two do when Dad's not here! You preach at us about God's law, and you're fucking your pastor while your husband does his job for him! What does your precious 'God's Law' say about you fucking other men while your husband's not around?"

Scott stepped forward a pace, and Mom shrank back, her expression horrified.

"You're worried what your darlin' preacher will say? That fucker tried to rape Trini, Mom, did he tell you that when you were pillow-talkin'? He came here and tried to blackmail your daughter into his bed, and you're worried what he'll think? Bring him on. I kicked his ass once already, I'll kick his ass again while you pray, and maybe your wonderful God will save his ass, because I will fucking kill him! You make me sick to my stomach, you're a goddamn hypocrite Mom, the worst kind. You bring a piece of shit like that into our home, you do Christ knows what with him, and you have the goddamn nerve to preach at me? Save it, Mom, we're done here; Trini, get your things, we are fucking leaving!"

Mom shrank even further back into her chair, a look of shocked horror pasted on her face. Dad made to bar our way, and once again Scotty faced him down.

"Don't even think about it, Dad! If you think what we're doing is so bad, then what are you doing watching movies about brothers fucking their sisters, and fathers fucking their daughters? You sit there watching that stuff and choking your chicken while your wife fucks that creepy sack of shit, and now you wanna get at Trini and me because we're doing exactly what you jerk-off to? "

Dad 's face worked as he took in what Scott was saying, what he was accusing them of, but he still tried to bluster out his denials; Scotty, however, wasn't having any of it.

"You wanna know what your congregation's gonna say? They're gonna laugh at you for being a dickless cuckold while another man fucks your wife, that's what they'll do! You jerk-off to stuff like that while some guy's fucking your wife and you have the fucking temerity to preach the Bible at me? You disgust me. You're an even bigger hypocrite than Mom, so get the hell out of my way!"

Dad stepped aside, his look of anger replaced by one of frightened shame as the family's dirty laundry flapped in the roaring gale of Scotty's disgusted rage. Scotty took my hand and led me to my room, where we threw together all the stuff I thought I couldn't live without, then carried my case and put it in the trunk of his car. He made me sit in the car with the doors locked while he got his stuff. Then jumped in and we sped away, his face set, but there were tears on his cheeks.

I cried, too; partly for losing Mom and Dad this way, but mostly for the hurt they'd laid on us, for refusing to even try to understand, for rejecting us when we needed them most, and for making my beautiful, sweet Scotty hurt and angry enough to cry.

We stayed that night in a motel not too far from Scott's workplace, two towns over, and across the state line. It was small, but clean, and cheap, and we just climbed into bed, not even thinking about making love; we'd had a bad day, and had far too much to think about to even think about sex, so Scotty just held me while I cried for everything that had come crashing down around us, and for my charm, the magic Scotty had given me so long ago; in the rush to get our stuff and get out he'd forgotten about it, and I'd forgotten to ask him to get it until we were already speeding away.

I had my Scotty, but my magic was gone, my only way of having Scott when he wasn't around was missing, and there was a strange, scary vacuum inside me, a place where the inside part of me knew something important was missing. Eventually I cried myself to sleep, but I felt the loss of my magic most of all that terrible night when we lost everything and our family finally fell apart.

In the morning, Scott had to go to work, so he left me with some money, and an injunction to not answer the door no matter who came knocking, just in case the 'rents worked out where we'd gone and came gunning for a return bout, or tried to sic the law on us. I spent the day in our room, reading, sleeping, watching motel cable TV, crying, and trying not to think about what had happened the day before.

When Scotty finally came back that evening I leaped on him, so grateful to have him back again after a long, lonely day that had seemed a million years long. Scott was equally glad to see me; his kiss was long and tender, and extra loving, but he also had some good news.

"Baby, I found us an apartment! My supervisor heard I was looking for a place, and his sister's got a basement newly converted into an apartment; it was gonna be for her niece and her daughter, but the niece died, and the daughter went to live with her uncle, so we'll be the first people to live there. It's a little small, not much bigger than a studio, but it's near my job, it's furnished, got a kitchen and a proper bathroom, and she only wants three-fifty a month! I went and saw her, and I said yes, I paid her, and she gave me the keys; baby, we got our own place!"

I was so excited; we had our own place, somewhere we could be together always. It was something we could afford, and it was a long way from anyone who knew us, so no real prospect of any embarrassing encounters; we could be together for real! I was so happy I grabbed him and tried to pull him to the bed; I wanted to celebrate, but Scotty had a better idea.

"No, baby, let's get over to our apartment and get our stuff in, then we can celebrate in our own bed!"

*

The apartment, in a small town called Holden's Crossing, about ten miles from Scotty's workplace, and seventy-something miles from our old home, was small, but not tiny; it had a nice-sized bedroom with a new bed, and a stack of brand new pillows, bed-linens and blankets, more than adequate closet-space, and a reasonable-sized, comfortable living room with a small galley-style kitchen, complete with a set of saucepans and griddles, plates, cups, and silverware, and a small dinette set. In the living room there was a new small couch and a pair of matching easy chairs, and there was even a television, already set-up for cable.

The landlady, Stella Mason, was a really nice, motherly lady about Mom's age who was obviously charmed by Scotty and his sweet nature, and before we knew it, we were sitting at her table sharing a delicious hamburger casserole while she talked about her sons, the neighborhood, her ex-husband, the best stores in the area: everything it was good to know when you first moved into a new place.

Before long we were chatting and laughing with her as though we'd known her our whole lives, she was so natural and genuine with us, interested without prying. We both felt so lucky to have chanced across someone as welcoming and genuine as Stella as we began our lives together. Stella never asked about our relationship, although I did notice her giving us a couple of quizzical glances, but if she suspected anything, she kept it to herself.

Scotty and I went to bed that night, if not totally happy, at least secure, with a roof over our heads, our own roof; we had a home now; we had someone we could confide in if we needed to, and I had someone to talk to and keep me from feeling lonely during the day while Scotty was at work.

The next day, without telling me, Scott bought two wedding bands, and that weekend, early on the Saturday morning, he took me for a drive up to Bad Indian Wood, a dense patch of forest about ten miles from Springfield, in Laroque County, about eighty miles from Holden's Crossing. He asked me to wait in the car while he went and did something, then a few minutes later he was back, to lead me blindfolded through the woods.

When he took the blindfold off, we were in a small, sunlit, grassy clearing, with a blanket laid on the grass, a posy of wildflowers, and a pillow with two gold rings. Scott gave me the posy, and held me close while he kissed me gently.

"Trini, I know the law won't let us get married, but I'm going to marry you anyway; in our hearts we'll be married, and that's all that matters. Trinity Kadey Donnelly Corden, I love you with all my heart, and I always will, I promise you. Will you marry me?"

I nearly choked in my rush to say "Yes, my darling Scott, I will marry you!"

With that, Scotty took my hand and placed the ring on my ring finger, kissing it once.

"Trinity Kadey Donnelly Corden, on this day, our wedding day, please accept this ring as a token of my love for you. Now you are my wife!"

I smiled and picked up the other ring, took Scotty's hand, and placed the ring on his ring finger, repeating his beautiful words.

"Scott Maxwell Donnelly Corden, on this day, our wedding day, please accept this ring as a token of my love for you. Now you are my husband!"

Scott pulled me close and kissed me hotly, his hands roaming over my back and squeezing my ass, while I ground my swelling pussy against the large bulge in the front of his jeans.

With that, all solemnity fell away as Scott proceeded to gently strip me, while I unbuckled and unbuttoned him, eager to make love with my husband. We made love for what seemed like hours, taking our time on this, the only honeymoon we were likely to get, Scott gently, lovingly sliding that big cock of his into me endlessly, finally tipping me over into a welter of sobbing, blistering pleasure, before kneeling upright, his still-hard cock pointing at me. I took the hint and swallowed him, my throat now accustomed to feeling him as I worked my throat muscles, milking him until he couldn't hold it back any longer, filling my mouth and belly with his hot, nourishing baby-juice.

He needed a few minutes to recover, and we lay together on the blanket, our honeymoon bed, telling each other of our hopes and wishes for our future, and our happiness right now. As we lay there on that blanket, in that remote forest glade, he held me tightly against him, his cock growing against me all over again, and when he slid me on top of him and shoved his tongue into me, deep-rimming me as his expert fingers stroked and strummed my stiff and swollen clit, I came in a shuddering, screaming blaze of hot, bursting, orgasmic delight.

Scotty slid out from under me and pushed me down onto all fours, immediately slotting his bursting cock into my saliva-slick back hole, making me whine and shudder as yet another hot and breathless orgasm raced and crashed through me. My tight asshole squeezed and milked him until, with a loud groan, he blasted what felt like a gallon of scalding-hot man-cream deep into me, my convulsing asshole milking him of spurt after spurt of hot cum.

I don't think any bride before or since has ever had such a magnificent honeymoon as that blanket in that remote forest clearing, with a husband like mine going out of his way to show me how much he loved me by making love to me endlessly, perfectly, lovingly. We'd been happily undisturbed the whole time we were there; Bad Indian Wood has a reputation for being haunted, but Scotty says that story was put about by the bootleggers back during Prohibition to keep the locals away while they cooked-up rotgut whiskey and gin.

When we got home, Stella was sitting on her porch, enjoying the shade on such a hot day. She looked closely at us, then smiled.

"You've changed, there's something different about you, Trini, I can't put my finger on it, but something's happened..."

I tried not to blush, and that's when she saw the ring on my left hand.

"Oh my God, kids, you got married, that's wonderful, you should have said, I'd have got you something!" she grinned, coming down to the yard and hugging me, and pecking Scotty on the cheek.

"You kids have only been here a few days, but I already feel like you're part of my family, and I feel so happy for you; I don't know what you're running from, or perhaps I do, but I want you to know, I'll never judge you for what you do or who you are!"

I listened carefully to what she was saying, and Scotty gave me a sideways look; did she know about us, and was she telling us she didn't care? That's what it sounded like, but whatever she said, or meant, it felt good to have her so happy for us, almost like having Mom there to say those things. I felt a momentary pang as I thought of her; the way we'd left things with her, she was never likely to say those things, or be happy until we'd both been comprehensively punished by her God.