Revelation Ch. 03

"Sis, is this the time for such nonsense?" Robert cried. He glared at me with such rage it seemed that either he would start raping me then and there or he'd abandon me with an irrecoverable hatred, leaving me to wallow for the rest of my life upon my aroused pussy. This would have been such a loss that my entire body jerked in fear and the prized penis almost slipped out of my hand. I couldn't afford to let it happen. Out of foreboding, I tightened my grip around my brother's penis and smashed my erect clitoris with the bulbous head.

Robert had followed the eventuality. Otherwise, his cock could have been torn from its root; only I knew how forcefully I snapped it to hit my disgruntled clitoris.

It was a debauched act. But it was also an act of sheer eroticism. The fact that I had battered my knotted clitoris with my brother's aroused cock multiplied my pleasure. My eyes closed themselves to withstand the electric shock that my smashed clitoris sent to the distant parts of my body. The pleasure in my clitoris was out of the world when the shock diffused itself in my nervous system. The more I savored that pleasure the more tightly I squeezed my pampered clitoris with the bulbous head; the more the cockhead squeezed my clitoris the more pleasure it produced. I hit my clitoris with my brother's cockhead maddeningly and it brought me a series of mini climaxes.

It was an endless cycle of pleasure. Yet it was not the pleasure of a hot fuck. Besides, I didn't want to have the principal orgasm without my brother fucking my pussy.

Robert was smiling naughtily as I looked at him opening my eyes. I was a shameless girl. I smiled back at him. No word could have communicated the love between us more lucidly than those tender smiles on me and my brother's face. I loosened my grip around his cock but didn't let its head leave the touch of my clitoris. I needed my brother's assurance that he was enjoying as much as I did.

"My Clit," I said, looking into his eyes wantonly, "is the most sensitive part of my body. What I did is not a mere act of madness. I gave my clitoris to my brother by marrying it to his cock." I lightly brushed the clitoral hood with the cockhead, with an air which demonstrated that a marriage had really been registered between my clitoris and my brother's cockhead.

A series of whimpers escaped my brother's reticent mouth as I brushed his cockhead along my clitoral mound. It was obvious that he liked these light touches more than he liked smashing frictions. I wondered how he was enduring so much teasing.

"Baby," I said, "it's surprising that you can hold it for such a long time. I heard that a virgin boy discharges to the first touch of a girl's pussy."

"I am surprised too, Sis," Robert said. "It seems that I am aroused not only in my cock but in my whole body. My whole being seems to extend one thousand invisible hands to hold my penis erect. The same invisible hands tapped the source of my orgasm. They are adamant to prolong my pleasure. It seems I will be able to hold it forever if you are this sexy for me."

"I've somewhere read about such arousal," I said. "But I heard that only saints are capable of such arousal."

It was an incompatible coincidence of knowledge and memory. My brother was, in fact, a saint. One night, after papa had died, he cried in my breasts seeing on television the skeleton body of a group of children who were dying of hunger in a Sub-Saharan country. One day he rescued a two years old girl from the Rhine. He was only twelve then. Papa, I, and Robert were picnicking on the bank of the river. None of the dozen of men that gathered by the wail of the distressed mother dared to jump into the tide to rescue the child. Only 12 years old Robert had the courage to do the act of humanity although his life was at stake. Papa -- who had been far off -- came running and ultimately rescued both the child and Robert. But if Robert had not pulled the child by her frock reaching out to her diving into the water, the girl would have been flown to the sea by the time Papa had noticed the accident. Not only these two. Robert had done many other works of charity. It was a false impression that I had fallen in love with him this afternoon when I knew the affect of my panties on him. I had fallen in love with him the day he jumped into the Rhine to save the child when he was only 12 and I was an innocent woman of 19.

"You are a saint, Brother," I said. Tears welled up in my eyes. Only Robert did not know why.

Leaving my clitoris, I brushed my downy mound with Robert's cock. I was committing the sin of foreplay for the pleasure of my brother, although I was being equally rewarded by my depravity. Robert's face was woven with the hued pleasure as the silkiness of my pubic hair caressed the sensitive head and the thin skin of his penis. Along the zigzag course, the cockhead left puddles of pre-cum on my dry garden.

The kinky foreplay raised my arousal to the seventh sky. I was not a saint like my brother. My arousal was, therefore, not as enduring as his. If I had prolonged my depraved act much long, I would've climaxed without the penetrative fuck that I was craving.

I rubbed my wet labia against Robert's cock. I wanted him to enjoy this last spell of my depravity before we fucked. "Look at it to your heart's content, Lover," I said. "See, how my pussy-lips caress your lovely sausage."

The pleasure on my brother's face was worth a million dollar to see. The fact that my silky pussy lips were wet made the intimate touches incredibly sexy. Short gasps shot out of my brother's cupid mouth as he watched his sister's long pussy lips mow over the sensitive cockhead.

"Sis, you are a fairy of erotic art," my brother whimpered.

I felt extremely adored when he said it. I grabbed his nearest hand with my free hand and shove it on my nearest breast. "Fairies have breasts of wools. Does it feel like a breast made of wool," I complained naughtily. My brother's hand squeezed the silky flesh of my breast.

"I'm a master of erotic art, not a fairy, Baby brother," I boasted. "I'm for your pleasure only."

"Sex is either slavery or pleasure," I lectured. "It's pleasure to those who love and it's slavery to those who don't. Sex is slavery between William and me because I don't love him, or at least, I don't love him anymore. This slavery brings hundreds of millions of man-woman pairs close every night for a bout of bestial copulation which relieves them for a couple of days or so through the discharges by their sex organs. These pairs copulate regularly even though each of the pair hates the other more than anything else."

Robert was another talented boy in our little town. He, in fact, scored higher grades in high school than William. But unlike William, Robert had the right mind to enjoy sex. He understood what I said.

"Isn't it different with us, Sis? Here you are playing with your brother's cock on your private part. At the same time you're discussing social matters. Could you do it with any other guy?"

"No, I couldn't," I admitted. "The world around us is an automated machine. Their turning into an automated machine has made it possible for them to give in to the slavery of sex. But brother, you will not let your sister submit to that slavery, will you?" I asked pathetically, pressing Robert's cockhead on my inner labia.

I knew Robert would not let me submit to the slavery of sex. I managed to touch not only the cockhead, but a considerable part of his cock-skin with the lips along my pussy slit. Wherever my brother's penis touched in my pussy, the feel was out of the world. But as I was the greediest sister of the world for my brother's cock, I wanted to feel him all over my pussy tunnel, across my g-spot, across a half-a-dozen sensitive parts in my pussy, and also in the mouth of my womb. I knew Robert was within reach with his love-rod at full mast. Any time I'd shove his cock into my hungry pussy. The long awaited fuck was at the portal of my paradise.

Consumed by anticipant, I lost not only any power for more foreplay but also lost the grip around my brother's cock. Sanity took better of my brother who came to rescue our bungled love-play. Through the smoky screen of my eyes, I saw my brother hold his penis. What followed was beyond description. I could only follow the rise and fall of the hoarse sound of 'GRR, GRR, GR..RR' that came from my throat as the rock-hard cock-shaft steadily entered my pussy, pushing through my inner labia, hitting the first batch of nerves that ended below, stretching my g-spot to the size of a my areola, battering the heads of one after another bunch of the thousands of nerves that ended in my pussy meat, stretching my poor little and mostly unused pussy tunnel to a limit that I had never thought would be possible, increasing the hoarse "GRR, GRR" eruption of my esophagus, leaving waves of pin-pricking pleasure along the long course of the thick cock-shaft. The cock passed through the sea-dark passage of my sisterly cunt, until the swollen head pushed ajar the sophisticated door of my womb, which had remained closed since the day I was born, except on those days when I had God's punishment of menstrual flow for being born with the sex of Mother Eve, who had enticed Father Adam to eat the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. A cataclysmic orgasm shook the very root of my soul and blew me off into seven million pieces of pure bliss which flew into the seventh sky.

I regained consciousness to the sweet friction of my brother's pounding along the passage of my vagina. He was fucking me with new vigor when I gained consciousness. The hot content of my orgasm had turned my pussy well into a tropical swamp. Yet, thanks to the Herculean girth of Robert's prick, the friction in my pussy walls was fabulous. I had heard that the bliss of a real orgasm takes a girl's consciousness along its way to heaven. But I had never experienced it. I had also heard that 98% women of the world, since the day of Mother Eve, had died without experiencing the bliss of a real orgasm. I thanked God for gifting me one at the age of 26. I thanked my brother even the more who had brought me the rare bliss of heaven. "Fuck me, Kid," I hissed. "Fuck your sister's brains out." But Robert didn't open his eyes. He continued his depraved action into my pleasure box as if I even didn't exist. Before I closed my own eyes, I only saw large drops of perspiration gathered on his chin and fell on my navel.

I slumped lazily as my brother fucked me, holding my stretched knees, jabbing into my cunt rhythmically. I closed my eyes for dual purpose: to enjoy the friction of my brother's cock along my pussy and to allow him some time to fuck me without distraction. I decided thus because Robert's whole being was enwrapped by pleasure of fucking his sister. I knew my brother would cum only once, may be toward the end of the night. I would cum many more times in the meantime. I needed time to think of new chimeras, new coquetry, new depravity, and new wantonness, to make his first fuck as memorable as the verses of Aeneid and Iliad.