Mouse Bk. 05 Ch. 04

* * *

Her brother's wet mouth descended on her nipple like a lava flow. The damp heat of it made her shiver unexpectedly, as she arched her back, helping to drive as much of her tit into his mouth as he could manage. His mouth opened wide, pleasing Melanie by taking so very much, as much as possibly he could. Where his lips couldn't reach, his large, powerful hand and fingers cupped and squeezed her breast at the base.

"Good God, Michael, baby, yes. Suck my tit. Suck Melanie's tit. Suck it good, Baby."

Baby brother. She was afraid to say it out loud, but not in her head. Not this time. She wasn't hiding from what she was doing. Her magnificent baby brother was going to be a man for her, and she was a woman for him. She was going to feed him her tits, and he would feed her his cock, before he filled her to the brim and spread her as a woman beneath his huge, crushing frame.

Michael hummed contentedly with her flesh in his mouth, painting a smile onto Melanie's face with the rapturous sound. He squeezed her breasts together, into each other, then quickly moved his mouth from the right to the left, sucking hard, letting her feel the edges of his teeth, before going back to the first.

Melanie tickled and grabbed and scratched at the back of his bald skull with both of her hands, showing him how much he was pleasuring her, and threatening to leave embarrassing, damning marks.

"That's it, Baby. Don't be gentle. Take what you want. Take everything you want, right now, take it..."

* * *

Michael listened to Melanie's instructions as he sucked as hard as he could, figuring out what Melanie liked, what drove her closer and closer to the heights of pleasure. Inwardly, he smiled, laughing at her need to maintain control, even now.

Her hands raced over his scalp, holding him to her breast. The touch tickled at times. Other moments, she tensed unexpectedly, letting out a low moan, and digging her fingers painfully into his skull. He didn't mind.

Her hands wandered then, down his back, then up again and under his chest. She reached down to his crotch, where she fumbled under his weight with the clasp of his belt. He raised himself, at first, to make it easier. He took his time, enjoying her breasts in his face as she struggled to free his straining cock.

Then her hand was in his pants. She reached in to grab his cock at first like it was the handle of a broom to be pulled from a closet. She wasn't gentle, like Mouse. Mouse took her time, holding it gently, caressing it like a favorite pet, trying to calm its fears or make it purr. Melanie grabbed and pulled, as if it were a lever to open a door to a room full of sinful pleasures, as if she wanted to own it, to make it her own.

At first, Michael groaned in shock and expected pain at the force of her tug. He was surprised at how good it felt, instead. She didn't relax her grip, or stop pulling, though. He was forced to move with her, to slide up and forward, eventually moving off of the sofa, as she dragged his cock unstoppably to her mouth.

* * *

Melanie lay on her side, propped on one elbow, looking up with a smile at her baby brother as she licked and kissed his cock. She kept her eyes locked on his, letting him see the pleasure in her face as she indulged her favorite hobby, and months of fantasies about just this. She kissed and licked, sucked and slurped, loudly and always smiling.

His pants had by now fallen to the floor. He interrupted her for one brief moment as he kicked his shoes off and stepped out of them. She let one hand caress his thick, hairy thigh and ass as her mouth went back to work.

She didn't swallow him, yet. She treated his cock like a popsicle, working every side, up and down the length, as if she needed to keep it from melting all over the hand that held it.

She loved looking at his own face looking down at hers. He hadn't that night. He'd kept his eyes closed, or on the ceiling, mostly, as if he were pretending to be somewhere else, or with someone else.

Not now. He stared right into her eyes, watching his big sister make slow, careful, generous love to his cock with her mouth. She was sure he would prefer to have Mouse there, with him, now, but he didn't mind that it was Melanie. For now, this once, he could be with Melanie, and love it.

She hummed appreciatively with his cock against both of her lips, letting her close her own eyes just this once, as a test. When she opened them, he'd passed. He was still staring down at her, with passion and pleasure swirling in his eyes.

"Suck it, Melanie. Show me how much you've wanted to suck your brother's cock."

At his words, Melanie attacked him with renewed vigor. She descended on him as deeply and quickly as she could, groaning loudly, and looking up at him when she could, to watch him enjoying it.

"That's it, Big Sister. Show me how much you've always wanted this cock."

Smiling, Melanie moved one hand to her own breast, squeezing it slowly, but deeply, to evoke the pleasures any touch there brought. The act drew Michael's attention. His eyes snapped to her breast, and filled then with a visible longing.

He'd always, always loved her tits. She'd teased him long enough, throughout their long lives. To tease him further, yet give him more than he ever expected, Melanie eased herself up, while guiding his cock down, towards her nipple, like an artist ready to paint a canvas with a brush.

* * *

Mouse glanced at the clock as she moved. The next class would be coming in, soon, and she'd be evicted.

She tried to dance for Michael. She tried to pretend he was there, with her, instead of with Melanie. Or, maybe, that he was with Melanie, but he could see her in his mind. If she could dance well enough, if she could be beautiful and seductive enough in her movements, he would see her and be with her, even now.

If she could dance with all of the love and jealousy she felt, then he'd find a way to be with her.

* * *

Michael watched in fascination as Mel rubbed the head of his cock over her large, pale aureola, then flicked his shaft over her erect, protruding nipple. He let her play for only a moment before he moved, quickly for such a large man, to position his cock directly between her large, cushiony tits.

She laughed when he did so, seeing what he wanted. She fell quickly onto her back, smiling and giggling, then arched her back to lift her breasts further up to him in offering. Her hands found each of his hard, muscular thighs, digging into them with her fingers as he slipped his cock into the deep canyon between her breasts.

She pulled her hands back to squeeze her tits onto and around his cock, covering it completely in the joys of her cool flesh. All the while she smiled playfully up at him.

"You like that, Baby Brother? How long have you wanted to do this to your big sister's titties? Tell me. Don't lie. I want to know."

Michael didn't answer. Instead they both looked down to watch his cock slide back and forth, fucking her delicious tits with a slow, soft motion. It wasn't so much exciting for Michael, it wasn't so much fucking, as it was simply pleasurable, a gratifying, sweet, calming sensation covering his cock and filling his thoughts.

It felt like soft, unconditional, undemanding love. He felt like he could stay there, doing this, for hour after hour. In fact, he really had no idea how long he had been at it when he realized that Melanie had already loosened her skirt, and had her own hand working feverishly down inside the waistband.

Her first loud, excited, repeated moans brought his own awareness out of his own consuming self indulgence, and back to her own obvious needs and desires.

* * *

Melanie had finally been forced to close her eyes. She tried to keep them open. She tried to watch her not so handsome and yet so desirable large baby brother calmly, unstoppably lost in the act of smoothly fucking her tits.

She found her clit with her fingers and rubbed. She tried to lift her hips, to get two fingers into herself, but it was awkward. She rubbed instead, while focusing on the feel of his smooth, hard cock sliding back and forth, tugging at her breasts. She pictured all of the times she could remember, or imagine remembering, one after another, that she'd caught him looking, or made him look.

She smiled to herself, replacing those simple, innocent moments with the image of her brother coming for her now, shooting wave after wave of cum on her tits and her neck and her face. He could bathe her in it, while she glowed up at him, beaming with the desire to have her sweet baby brother cover her like an animal, totally out of control, with his sweet, wet, hot liquid lust.

She knew she was moaning. She knew she was loud. She was too lost in her own world of sensations and expectations to really be aware of what she was doing.

She panicked when he pulled his cock away.

* * *

It only took a moment. Her sounds had driven him close to the edge. She was so different from Mouse. She was so forceful and physical all of the time, both in her touch, and her sounds. She wailed and moaned and groaned, where Mouse chirped and purred and sang. She grabbed and clawed and writhed, where Mouse teased and tickled and clung.

He loved Mouse all the more, he loved her sounds. He could come just listening to her. But here, with Melanie, the difference drove him, too. He was commanded by the loud, unrestrained lust with which she expressed her pent up desire for his cock.

He had to fuck her.

* * *

Mouse toweled the sweat from her face, trying not to glare at the students streaming onto her dance floor. A few of them glanced her way, perhaps wondering who she was and why she was there, or how she'd learned to dance so well.

You have to feel the dance, she wanted to tell them. You have to feel what you're doing in your heart, so the dance is true, and you are true to the dance.

Mouse tried to look out the window, to find something to focus on. Her mind went back to Michael.

In frustration, she stuffed her towel into her bag, forcefully grabbed the straps, and snapped it up with her to head towards the stairs.

* * *

Michael reached, fast and furious, under her skirt to grab her hips. His strong forearms almost tore her loosened skirt as he tried to force it indelicately up to her waist. He easily lifted her ass from the sofa to fold the skirt up behind her, while she hurriedly worked to help him, knowing now what he wanted, and wanting it too.

"Are you going to fuck me, now, Michael? Do you want to fuck your big sister now?"

Michael was silent, but his eyes blazed his answer back into hers. Melanie looked down at his cock, seeing it poised to join with her, ready to take her and to take its pleasure from her. She hurriedly opened his shirt. His hairy chest and stomach hovered over hers, almost more like a beast than a man. Her hands ran through the hair on his chest, and his sides and his back.

As she stroked his body in anticipation, she started to repeat two words, softly, quickly, over and over, like a prayer recited repeatedly to try to calm herself, to keep her from panicking and reeling from what was about to happen.

"Baby brother... baby brother... baby brother... baby brother..."

She felt his one hand pulling her panties aside, not even bothering to pull them off, as his hips swung down against hers and his thick, filling cock plunged into her in one long, fast, irresistible stroke.

She screamed.

"Fuck, yes, Big Sister. Fucking, yes."

Her entire body tensed as he entered her. She felt her whole body expand with his presence inside her, as her body cried out for yet more. She lifted her knees, opening herself to him. She clawed at is back and his ass, trying to pull him more deeply in. Her pussy grabbed at his cock, her ass lifted to grind her ass cheeks against his thighs, doing anything she could to get more of his fabulous, forbidden cock into her.

"Baby brother, baby brother, baby brother..."

He rammed into her, over and over again, hard and fast and deep. She barely felt the motion and the friction. All that she could consciously feel was his cock inside her, constantly, completely inside her, even though she he was moving it in and out, inexorably fast and furious.

"Fuck, yes, Melanie. Fuck, yes. Fuck, yes."

Her body slipped by inches, along the leather sofa, moving over a layer of sweat, driven by his powerful strokes. Her back was drenched by perspiration, almost as slickly wet as her fevered pussy.

Her fevered cunt. Mouse called it a cunt. Her incestuous, fevered cunt.

Melanie continued repeating her litany. She reached behind Michael and pulled him down into her, trying to crush herself under his body, trying to feel his hairy chest mashing her tits into her chest, and her body into the sofa beneath her.

"Baby brother, baby brother, baby brother..."

The words faded as she lost herself under his massive, masculine form.

"Fucking, yes, Melanie. Fucking, fucking, fucking yes..."

* * *

Michael looked at his beautiful older sister's face. Her eyes were clenched shut. Her face was contorted in a death mask, her life only betrayed by the constant wail that came from deep in her throat as he unceasingly fucked her.

Michael watched her for a long time, enjoying the pleasure she was experiencing, and her beauty, and the simple, feminine feel of her breasts pushing into his chest.

Her fingers clawed relentlessly, scratching at his ass cheeks. They were the only part of her that moved beneath him.

"Take my fucking cock, Melanie. Take my fucking cock..."

* * *

She wanted him to come on her. She wanted to beg him to pull out and come on her, to cover his big sister with her little brother's cum. She wanted him to come on her tits, come on her face, come on her lips. She wanted her baby brother to dominate her, totally, completely, sexually, to fuck her and then to cover her in a powerful flood of cum.

She wanted to beg him, to scream it, even to demand it, but she couldn't form coherent words.

As clear as the image was in her mind, it only came out as one long scream.

* * *

Michael felt the orgasm building. Before he lost control, he lowered his lips to her open mouth. He tried to plant a series of small, loving kisses just on her upper lip, just as he came, but when she felt his mouth on hers she attacked him. Her own mouth opened wide, joining with his. Her tongue snaked out, shoving against his.

Her screams increased. He knew she was close. The thought, and her sounds, brought him closer, too. He felt his cock grow and stiffen in the building, blinding moment before orgasm.

She screamed louder than ever. Their lips, still together, slipped ever so slightly apart, and when they did the sound of the scream filled the room, a thousand times more loudly than he thought a woman could ever scream.

His own fevered, powerful groan mixed with hers.

He flooded his big sister with a tremendous blast of cum. His cock exploded inside her. The stream of his cum and her passionate scream continued, together, for a short eternity.

* * *

They couldn't know it. They never would know it, because they would never discuss it, but they experienced their separate and shared climaxes in very much the same way. At once, for each, it was both exhilarating, and freeing, and something else both more and less primal.

On one level, it compared with the simple pleasure of scratching a long bothersome itch, of relieving a discomfort that had gone on for far too long. In one both momentous and foggy moment, each had fulfilled a long repressed desire with a violent, wrenching storm of sensations.

On another level, it was a release, an escape from the burden that each had been carrying for the last month. It freed them from the memory of their first encounter, from the twisted way that joining had evolved, wiping it away completely by replacing it with a simpler memory of a more loving, shared cusp of feelings and sensations.

It was good by itself, too, not great, but good. It was intense, and passionate, and draining, that one long moment when the soul writhes and screams in pleasure within the body, and the two, body and soul, seem separate and distant within one's self, yet inextricably, unfathomably tangled, with each other, and with another tangled body and soul.

But that part, the mind numbing climax, was over fast enough. The memory of it faded, while the feeling of freedom, almost graduation and maturation, remained long after.

* * *

Mouse stood on the street, in the sun, as dozens of people cruised by, living their complicated, intricate little lives. They all had places to go, things to do, things to be. They all had to be someone, all by themselves, and someone for other people, too.

Everyone had someone. Everyone had to fit in somewhere.

They had to be finished, by now, she thought. It had to be over.

She hoped she was right about suggesting this. She hoped this wasn't all a big mistake. She hoped she hadn't made her own life a thousand times worse by being too bold, too wild, and too... Mouse-ish.

Mouse walked up the street towards her apartment, wondering if she was ever going to figure out how she fit in, the way everyone else seemed to so easily and naturally do.

* * *

"Michael, tell me you love me."

"I love you."

Like a sister, Melanie thought. She could hear it in the way he said it. He meant it, but he meant it that way.

"I love you, too."

Like a brother. She was no different. They loved each other, they did. And this didn't hurt, not this time. This time, they'd done it right. It was good. It was wrong, but good and right. It was something that should never, ever have, happened, but now it had and it was good.

She felt no guilt. None at all. None now, and none left over from before. She felt good. That realization came with a sense of both wonder and relief. She felt good.

"I do love you, Mel."

But not like Mouse. She'd heard him say it to Mouse. She'd heard the way the words left his lips, not just what he said, or how he said it, but what he meant. When he said it to her, his big sister, or she to him, it was so flat. It was one dimensional.

When he said it to Mouse, when Mouse said it to him, it was so much more. At times, she was jealous. It seemed to be more than when she said it to Dan, or Dan to her, or anyone to anyone, ever.

"You love Mouse."

"Yes, I love Mouse."

There. There it was again. She could hear it. She could more than hear it. Mouse wasn't even here, he wasn't saying it to her, and yet she could hear it.

Melanie gathered her clothes to go. They didn't say another word, until another normal day came by tomorrow, and everything had changed, but it was all good.

<8 Ordered

Melanie made another list. She titled this one. "Dr. J. and Mr. H."

"Wife, Mother, Sister," she wrote.

She left a large space, then added, on another line, "Slut."

Beneath the first line she made a short list: Patient, Caring, Concerned, Involved, Dependable, Disciplined.

Beneath the second she made another short list: Drunken, Fearless, Immoral, Hungry, Sexual.

She looked at the top list. It was too complimentary. It was dishonest. She added to it.

Repressed. Contrived. Distorted. Dishonest. Fake.

She looked at the bottom of the list, considering what to add to keep things in balance.

Dangerous. Guilty. Insatiable. Untrustworthy.

Sick. Twisted. Perverse. Criminal.

She wrote the word "Hopeless" on the bottom, then just stared at it, while she considered how to merge her two halves into something whole.

As Dan came into the bedroom, she opened the drawer of the nightstand to hurriedly put her list away. Dan misinterpreted it as eagerness for something else.

"Honey, I'm sorry. I'm so tired from traveling. I've only been home an hour, I know, but I have to sleep. I won't be any good for you tonight, and I want to be good for you."