Return to the Fortune Teller

Return to The Fortune Teller

By

de Vere

The sign glowed bright and red in the night.

FORTUNE TELLER.

It was a few minutes after 11:00 at night, but the sign lite this late at night meant she was still open. People probably need their fortunes told late at night with a few beers in them. That's when people get into fights. Break up. Late at night is when love is lost and love is found. It is the time when tragedies occur and dreams come true. Both are impossible to believe and change a person forever.

I turned into the driveway.

The old crone slowly hobbled through the dark curtain into the room. The dim light made it hard to tell exactly what the dark pattern was on the long dress that hung from her bony, frail, stooped body. Her black eyes stared for a moment, then she smiled.

"The Hermit and The Star."

"That's right," I answered.

Two days after my sister banged my brains out, she took me into her room again. She wouldn't say why, but her blue eyes were wild.

"I've been thinking about the other night. A lot."

"Me, too." To be honest, I might not have thought of anything else for more than 4 seconds during that time. My sister is very pretty. Spectacularly, wonderfully beautiful. Blonde, tall, skinny yet shapely. The kind of woman who only exists in Victoria's Secret runway shows. And she screwed me because this fortune teller told us that something terrible would happen if we did not have sex.

That old crone knew I was her brother. And she knew there was no way a guy like me would ever have sex with a woman like her. I'm not bad-looking or anything. I even resemble my sister quite a bit. But where my sister is sexy and glamourous, I am nerdy and an idiot. Doesn't matter what I do, you can still tell who I am. And looking like a beautiful woman is not particularly good for a guy.

So, Ginnie took me into her room and closed the door. And locked it. She sat us down on the same bed we screwed on two nights before. "I need to ask you something."

"Anything," I said.

"Promise you will tell me the truth."

"Of course," I answered. "After what we did? I promise to tell you the truth."

"Good. Because I've been thinking about it, and I keep having this terrible thought."

Oh, shit. One of the reasons I had never tried too hard to lose my virginity was because I was sure a woman would have terrible thoughts after screwing me. Why did I let this geek fuck me? What if my friends find out? What if I run into him at the grocery store? That's the kind of shit that ran through my head every time I thought about talking to a woman, so usually I didn't. If it hadn't been for that fortune teller and my sister, I'd probably have died in old age still a virgin.

Even if some woman had taken pity on me or gotten drunk as shit at DragonCon, she sure as hell would not have been as gorgeous as my sister. And no way in hell would she have enjoyed herself the way my sister did. Enjoyed me like that.

"I keep wondering about why we did that. Don't get me wrong, it was...wonderful. I mean, amazing! It's not that I regret it, because I don't."

She regrets it. Worse than that. She's freaking out. I screwed a woman and she went fucking crazy because of it. My sperm causes insanity.

"Promise to tell the truth!"

"I will! I already promised that. Really, I will."

"Did you pay that fortune teller to tell us what she said?"

"What?"

"Did you tell her what to say so I would sleep with you?"

"No!" I stood and paced her room. "How would I have done that? It was your idea to stop there, not mine. How was I supposed to know you would tell me to stop there?"

"I know, I know. It's just this terrible fear I had that you set me up like that."

"You think I would do that to you?"

"No! That's the worst part, because I wanted to think wonderful thoughts about it. I am so glad you wanted to have fun and not just wham, bam, thank you ma'am so we could prevent some godawful calamity."

The thing is, I wish I'd thought of that. I would have, and I might do it sometime in the future—if I could ever get another girl to take a ride with me. Not that I'd worked out the logistics of that yet. But, strangely, I had a different thought.

"Did you do it?"

"What? Me?"

"It was your idea to stop. Your idea to get your fortune read."

"No! I swear, I had no idea."

See, my sister is the most gullible person I ever met. And the thought that she might consider me to be as gullible as her did occur to me. Not that my sister needed to trick me like that. I had fantasized about her since about puberty. Maybe before. Sometimes I called that little sock I spunked into "Ginnie".

Everyone feels that way, right? All my friends who have sisters talk about them like that, and none of them have a sister as hot as mine. Alex's sister is fat and pimply and pretty ugly, but he's always talking about sniffing her panties and jerking off into her bras. And Dave's always talking about his sister's tits. They are huge, and who could not dream of titty fucking their sister if she had tits that big?

To tell the truth, all Ginnie had to do was ask.

"Well, that's the only thing that makes sense. Would you have had sex with me if I told you that something terrible would happen to us, rather than some fortune teller?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"Well, I had just broken up with Kyle and felt like shit because he was fucking his ex."

"You would have used me for revenge sex?"

"It would have been pretty good revenge."

"Okay, answer me this: if I had just asked you to screw me—forget about breaking up or saving us from disaster—just asked you to screw me, would you?"

"No," she said. "Well, maybe."
"Seriously?"

"Well, you are really cute, in a geeky way. And you were a virgin! If you had told me you were a virgin and all, I could have helped with that."

"Really?"

"It was kinda hot, wasn't it?"

"It was very hot," I agreed. Emphatically.

"Amazingly hot."

"I had never seen that fortune teller in my life," I said.

"Me neither. I paid her only for a legitimate card reading."

"That fortune teller just took pity on me, that's all."

"What?"
"She saw this beautiful woman come in with her dork brother and decided, hey, let's have some fun with them. She's probably sitting there right now still laughing about it, wondering if we did it."

Ginnie pondered that for a minute. "She did know a lot of things about us."

"That's how she does it. She can read people. They come in, she figures out what they want or need and tells them what they want to hear."

"So, you fucked me under false pretenses."

"What?"

"You didn't believe it, but you let me think of it so you could fuck me!"

"Now, wait a minute—you just told me you'd have fucked me just to rid me of the burden of virginity."

"Well, if you told me. Not just to take advantage of me because I got a little drunk and believed an ancient con artist."

"Look, I kinda believed her. After all, she did know some things. About your criminal history as an underwear thief, for example."

"Good, because I would have been furious with you for taking advantage like that."

See? What did I tell you about her being gullible?

That was last night.

Which brings us back to the fortune teller.

"We'd like another reading." Ginnie put a twenty on her table, which the old woman snatched up with her claws.

"Well, sit down, sit down." She dealt 4 cards again. "What do you want to know?"

I asked, "Can this tell the past, or only the future?"

"The past is simple, my boy. The future? Only the cards can tell that, and only in the hands of one who knows how to use them."

"Then tell us the past, first." Ginnie had a poker face. I was proud of her. The woman flipped the cards. The Star. That is Ginnie. The Hermit—that is me. The Lovers. That is us.

"Those you know."

This card was new. Under a huge sun stood two people, wearing only blue wraps around their waists like diapers. Otherwise they were naked. One had his arm around the other, who was holding two hands in front of the other's diaper. "Le Soleil. The Sun. This is the best card in the deck."

Ginnie asked, "What does it mean?"

"Happiness and contentment. Its meaning is only positive." The old crone smiled knowingly.

"Then, the cards say we had sex."

"You did have sex."

This time, I asked, "What was the calamity?"

"A future which does not occur cannot be seen," the fortune teller said.

"But, you saw it then!"

"What I saw was darkness and despair. What I saw was the result, not the nature of what was to befall you if you chose to forsake the cards. You made the wise choice. That pleases you." She tapped a bony, crooked finger on Le Soleil.

"That's it? I fucked my brother, and now everything is okay?"

"Isn't it?"

The fortune teller really had us there.

"But what if I'm pregnant or something?"

I looked at her. "What?"

"The cards did not tell you to have unprotected sex," the old woman said with a twinkle in her eye.

Ginnie looked at me and said, "The pill makes me retain water."

"Jesus Christ," I said.

"Do not blaspheme in here, Hermit," the old woman warned.

"At least tell her if she's pregnant," I said. Not that I believed any of this bullshit, but she had been dead-on all along.

She laid two cards across The Hermit and The Star, face down. She turned over one with a wheel. "The wheel of fortune. Felicity. Luck. Destiny. Success." Her claw flipped the second. "The Hierophant. Marriage, alliance, captivity, servitude. It also means mercy, goodness and inspiration."

I asked, "So, not pregnant?"

"No, my boy."

"Destiny?" Ginnie looked from me to the fortune teller.

"Do you doubt that this was your destiny?"

In the car, I started to turn the key, then stopped. "Why didn't you tell me to wear a condom?"

Ginnie laughed. "I couldn't really ask my brother to use a condom, could I?"

She had a point there. "That's not the point!"

"Do you even have a condom?" I didn't say anything. "You don't, do you?" She poked me in the stomach and I swatted at her hand.

"What if I'd gotten you pregnant? Hell, maybe you are! That fortune teller is not a pregnancy test!"

"I'm not going to screw my brother with a rubber!"

"Why not?"

"What do you mean, why not?"

"It's not the same with a condom. Someday, you will understand."

"Did you make Kyle use a condom?"

"Of course. I'm not an idiot."

Some might disagree. "I am really confused right now," I said.

"Look, it is better without a condom. It feels better. Free, natural. Dirty."

"Better for who?"

"For both of us."

"It was pretty amazing, wasn't it?"

"Sure was. See, you got all mad at me when all I wanted was you to not pop your cherry inside a condom. Someday you will thank me for that."

"I already thanked you."

"You did not!"

"Thank you."

"Asshole!" She was really pissed. Don't ask me why.

"No, I mean it. Thank you. For the best night of my life. And for being the best sister any guy could ever hope for."

"You are not bad for a brother, either. And an even better lover. I mean, after you found my clit."

The funny thing is, we were both sober. We made more sense when we were buzzed after the party. I have no fucking idea what was going on. All I can say for sure is my sister fucked me without a condom, and she may or may not be pregnant. Whatever our destiny is. In the back of my mind, I hoped she was, because with my track record and the amount of jism I shot into her that night, if that did not get her pregnant, it might have been my only shot.

It was funny, too, thinking Kelly was not into me, but my sister was. Maybe there is something to say about destiny.

As we approached the turnoff into the neighborhood, Ginnie asked, "Do you really want to go back home?"

"Do you have something in mind?"

She looked in the back seat. "Want to go to church?"

"Are you nuts? What if we get caught?"

"You saw the cards. Destiny and the other card that means mercy, goodness. Only good things."

"It also means captivity and servitude," I said. "Who is the captive who serves the other?"

"You are my captive, of course. And you will serve me."

I drove right past our street and struggled not to speed too much, in case there were cops around. We parked around back, and Ginnie climbed over the console into the back seat soon as we stopped. Her ass was inches from my face, and I stared again this time, too. She must have noticed, because she wiggled her hip and hit my face with it and laughed. I followed her back. She watched me silently as I got settled beside her. "What do we do?"

"Do you want to serve me?"

"Yes," I said. Looking back, I answered whiny and needy, but I was horny as shit.

"Then why are you just sitting there? Take off your clothes." I pulled my shirt over my head and slid my jeans down onto the floor. My tighty-whiteys were strained. "Keep going," she said.

There I was sitting there with my cock sticking straight up, a little beam of light shining on it like a spotlight. And my socks. I remember having socks on. "Are you going to take your clothes off, too?"

"No," she answered. She swung her legs onto my lap. "You are."

So, I reached for her shirt and she swatted my hands. "Pants only."

"But, I want..."

"Pants! Be a good little captive."

How women get out of jeans that tight, I have no idea. I mean, it was clinging to her body, so I tugged and tugged until they slid off her hips and slowly down those long, slender thighs. At least she is skinny—thunder thighs might have been impossible in that small space. But they came off.

She pointed at her panties. They looked like a thong, but with her sitting on her ass, I could not be sure. "What are you planning while I still have these on?"

I pulled them off. They were a thong. I wished I could have seen her ass in them, but, then again, I was looking at the arrow she had shaved her blonde bush into.

"Kiss me under the arrow."

It was nearly impossible. I tried to get down to her, but the seat was so narrow, it didn't work. She opened up her legs wide trying to help, but her hip was only about a foot away from mine, but Ginnie had an idea.

"A good servant would kneel on the floor."

I am a very good servant, and from the floor, I could easily serve her. When my lips met hers under that blonde arrow, they were already wet and hot, and she called out, "Oh!"

Now with the experience of a couple of nights before under my belt, so to speak, my tongue knew just where to attack her. The seat blocked her from opening both legs equally, but the one not blocked spread until the knee was up against the back of the front seat. For some reason, she tasted of cinnamon. I mean, it must have been my imagination, but she tasted fucking delicious. Her hips had started that movement again before I found her clitoris.

This time, it only took a second. And she grabbed the back of my head when I did and pushed my face against her snatch. I felt weird about my hands, so I grabbed the inside of each thigh and dove in deep. She really dug my tongue all up in her and started making some really freaky sounds. I squeezed on her thighs, then remembered her tits, so I reached for one. She had a bra on underneath—probably stolen—and that disappointed me a little. But her tit felt really good, even through the molded cup.

"Do you want me to....?"

She shoved my face back against her dripping snatch. "Don't stop!"

So I licked on her clit and drank her juices while she held my head in place in case I tried to do anything stupid like say something again. Her hips moved in a circle, fast, then slow. I should have brought a camera. It would have been crazy, but it was probably too dark. I could barely see anything. Ginnie moaned and bit her lower lip and her hips circled clockwise. Down slowly, then quickly back up.

My tongue followed her every move, my lips pressed against her soft lips.

"Oh! Oh god!" She started up again like that again, so I knew she was coming, but we were in a church parking lot and she was calling out to god, so I just burst out laughing. I mean, it was funny as hell. At least to me.

Not so much to her. She smacked my ear and grabbed a handful of hair to shove my face into her crotch. She yelled for god louder, but I just kept on licking her little button. I traced the letters G, O and D over her clit while she screamed it. I almost laughed again, but she was coming like crazy, and I didn't want her to smack my ear again, because it was still ringing.

The feeling making my sister come like that gave me was intense. Not as intense as what she was feeling, if all the moaning and grinding and sighing was any measure, but I felt like I had this amazing power. She began moving her hips up and down so fast, it didn't seem possible. I couldn't tell if she did it intentionally or if it was a spasm, but she was just repeating, "Oh.. ooh..." over and over, so I didn't dwell on it. Instead, I dwelt on her clit.

How long can a girl come? I mean, it's not like I can tell the way she can tell when I come, but it seemed like it went on for like 5 minutes. I may be serving her, but she felt I had taken her captive.

Another strange thought came into my head: did her ex-boyfriend lick her snatch this way? Did she come this long with him?

Finally, she stopped. Her hips fell still and the only sound she made was deep breathing. Her hand let go of my hair, so I stopped licking her snatch. But I reached to touch her around there, and it was wet everywhere. It was like a puddle in the seat under her ass. I just started licking everywhere that was wet because I love how my sister tastes. Not cinnamon anymore, but dark and earthy.

When I finished, I sat up beside her and played with one tit. "Did you steal this bra?"

"No. This one I bought."

I was about to ask to see it, but she looked down in my lap and spoke first. "We need to do something about that thing."

"Uh, OK."

She just climbed right over me. Straddling my lap facing me like that, she was taller than me. She didn't say a word, but just leaned up, her hand came around from behind somewhere and grabbed my dick and pulled it into place, then she dropped down over me the way she had the other night. This time, we both said "Oh," together.

It was that same amazing feeling, soft yet tightly gripping my shaft. And so wet and smooth! Because of our position, she didn't take me inside as deep, but it felt amazing.

She rubbed her tit against my face, so I pulled her shirt off. The bra was black and each time she lowered down on me, it bulged out and I could see boob inside. She had her arms around my neck. Then, she started kissing me.

I thought the first time she screwed me was hot—and it was—but this time I was not so nervous, even though we were fucking in a car behind a church about 50 feet from a streetlight. Our tongues moved together as she drove my cock into her. Her hands held my face, and mine held her hips as they rose and fell slowly. But I wanted tit so bad, so I reached up and slid one hand inside the molded cup of her bra to play with it.

There's something about my sister's tits. They make me come. I'd only been playing with it 10, 15 seconds when I felt it begin. I must have whimpered or something, because she knew before my first shot unloaded, and she did something really freaky and wonderful. She stopped moving her hips and just squeezed me with muscles inside her pussy. Squeezing like I was squeezing her boob, hard then light.

My orgasm may not have lasted a tenth as long as hers did, but I doubt hers felt any more penetrating. I literally screamed, then started laughing before another wave hit and knocked that laugh right out of me. Her pussy muscles continued squeezing on me, and she had this serious look of concentration, like it took her a lot of effort to do that. It was goddam worth the effort!