The Bionic Stud: Twisted Sister

The teen stud unleashed a fierce growl and speared into Melissa, nailing her ass to the bed with the force of a two-ton pile driver. "Oh, Lance!" she wailed. Her voice lost its usual tone of sass. Lance sensed his lover's rising tide of pleasure. The vixen's climax was surfacing, her absolute desire present and palpable. His lips moved over her neck, her jaw. He kissed her feverishly, his mouth dominant and demanding.

"You gonna come for me?" he breathed into her ear. It was an order, not a request.

"G-g-o-d y-y-yes!" she stammered.

Lance gave her all he had. And he had a lot. The massively muscled megastud delivered swift powerful thrusts that shook the entire bed. Their bodies loudly slammed together, the hard slap of flesh upon flesh echoing in the hotel room like the report of a rifle. Joanna's hand wandered between her thighs. The live sex show got her hot.

Melissa screamed her lungs out. Her whole face flushed red, mouth hanging open, jaw trembling with lust. Gasping moans fell from her lips as his questing mouth moved to her neck, her shoulder. He sank his teeth into her flesh, marking his territory. Her legs lifted, wrapped around his hips, and drew him deeper. Lance gave her every inch of his love. He felt her vaginal walls closing in on him, the muscles clenching his giant drill. Lance gained momentum, doubling the speed of his cockthrusts. She was so close that he could taste it. One thrust. Two. And she exploded. Just like that.

Melissa went silent. Her eyes widened and her body froze up for a few frantic heartbeats. You could have heard a pin drop. Lance heard a faint moan from across the bed. The teen glanced over his shoulder at Joanna. Her hand flew rapidly between her legs. Their eyes met. Lance winked. He loved to perform for an audience. Suddenly, Melissa's back reared up off the bed. Lance tightened his grip around her wrists and kept them pinned to the mattress. Her body lurched and thrashed underneath him. The climax rocked Melissa to the core. Like an eruption of fire clenching around his dick, her intimate flesh clamped down on him as she whipped her head to and fro.

"Holy shit," Joanna whispered to herself. The sensual spectacle made her clit throb. Melissa's intensity startled her. The bi-vixen never saw another woman come so quickly or violently. Finally, her screams died down to noisy gasps. Even then, Melissa still needed a minute to catch her breath.

Lance gave the blonde a scorching tongue kiss that made her toes curl.

"Did you come, sis?" he asked sarcastically, breaking their kiss with an incredibly smug grin. "Was I OK?"

"Has anyone told you," she began, unable to muster too much indignation in her afterglow. "That you've got a big mouth?"

"Well, you know what they say about guys with big mouths..." he began.

Joanna landed a hard but playful slap on his bare butt.

"They say guys like you shouldn't press their luck," Jo told him.

Lance knelt up and looked over at her. He crooked his finger: "C'mere, babe."

The alt-babe sidled up behind him, slid her arms around his waist and rested her cheek between his neck and shoulder: "Yeah, babe?"

Lance turned to kiss her. She felt her jaw relax and her lips part open. His tongue stroked her teeth and darted deeper. As Joanna's passion mounted, Lance also began to gently pump himself inside Melissa. His erection had remained hard as a rock. Jo clung his to the V-shaped back of his muscled torso, running her hands across the sculpted contours of his broad chest.

"Nice abs, Mr. Universe," she whispered into his ear. "You work out or something?"

"I'm working out on your girlfriend right now," he smiled. "But let's see what I can do for you in the meantime."

While continuing to pound Melissa, his torso swung sharply to the left so he could grasp Joanna's hips in either hand. Before she could react, he lifted her lithe, naked body off the mattress and mounted her thighs on his shoulders. Jo found herself seated on his massive deltoids, her legs dangling over his back, his face right in front of her juice-brimmed twat. That's when she realized his plan. Lance wasn't going down on her. She was going up on him!

Joanna felt his hot tongue wiggle its way inside her labia. The wet pink muscle then began to spin and whirl at the furious velocity of a blender, grazing the erotic nerves that peppered her intimate flesh. She could feel the tip reach places not even her favorite dildo could touch. And the organ felt so long and thick, more like a cock than a tongue.

"OHMIGOD!" she screamed loud enough for everyone in the motel to hear. Less than a minute later, her thighs clamped his neck like a vise, her vaginal muscles locked up at the point of climax, and her mouth gaped open in a silent scream. Lance buried his tongue up her twat. Along with his prick, it had grown abnormally long during the drug treatments at Fort Benning. The CIA had really fucked up his brain but he dug his augmented tongue almost as much as his bionic tool.

Suddenly, a loud knock sounded at the door. It sounded again. They heard the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle rumbling in the parking lot.

"Fuck!" muttered Lance as he dismounted Joanna from his shoulders and withdrew from Melissa. He silently motioned for the girls to hide in the bathroom. They shut the door behind them. Within seconds, Lance reverted to 'Special Forces' mode. He dropped to the floor and army crawled along the carpet to the front of the room. A couple angry bikers could be a problem but he'd seen worse. More than anything, they pissed him off. These dicks had spoiled a very hot threesome, a nice score even for an accomplished ladykiller.

High beams from the cycles flooded the room. The girls had not drawn the shades. Those perverts must have seen everything... Lance considered his options. He could wait for them to break in. Or he could come out and have a word with them. The second option sounded better. If they wanted blood, they'd get it...

The teen reached for his jeans on the floor and slipped them on. His socks and shoes came next. He might need to make a run for it. After counting to ten, Lance stood up and casually opened the door. Good News: There were only five of them. Bad news: One of them had drawn his gun. They all were perched on their bikes. No one made a move.

"What the fuck do you want?" he asked them point blank.

The douchebag with the gun aimed and fired. The impact slammed him against the wall. It fucking hurt like a bitch. His vision doubled and blurred. He shut his eyes from the pain. When he opened them, the gang had left. He heard a police siren in the distance. Lance bolted inside the motel room and grabbed his jacket. He opened the door to the bathroom. The girls had skipped. The casement window had been left open. Lance climbed out. He landed on his feet. The teen bolted into the cornfield. He kick-started his Harley and sped off into the darkness. Lance pushed 90. The sirens grew distant. He was home free.

Lance slipped through the back door of Jane's tract home. The clock on the wall read 4am.

"Where the fuck have you been?" asked his stepmother.

"Out," he answered curtly.

She slapped him. Hard.

"You know you're cute when you're angry," he smiled.

Lance wasn't kidding. The cougar bought all her sleepwear at Victoria's Secret. She wore a black lace and garter number that night. The blonde took good care of herself too. Even at 40, Jane could have passed as Melissa's older sister.

"Don't fuck with me, Lance," she told him while pouring herself a shot of Johnny Walker. "I know the local cops. They reported gunshots at the Crestline Motel."

"Listen, babe," he began. "You know what you were getting into when I moved here."

Jane knew some of his secrets. The army made her sign countless waivers to become his legal guardian. His psychiatric report warned about his wild and impulsive behavior.

Jane also obtained a copy of his disciplinary file. The folder had grown two inches thick.

"Yes, Lance. I know about your zipper problem. The whole town knows. But do you have any idea who you just slept with?"

"Melissa?"

"She's your sister, you fucking asshole!"

Lance felt his cell phone vibrate. He pulled it out. Joanna texted: "Meet me at Jerry's. In trouble."

Jane threw her shot glass at him. It whizzed by his ear and shattered against the wall. Without a word, Lance headed out the back door. He would have to deal with Jane later.

Back on his bike, Lance tried to process what happened tonight. It all made sense. Jane forbade him from visiting Jerry's because Melissa danced there. Lance and her were siblings. Jane suspected they'd fuck at the drop of a hat. She had not been wrong. Lance pondered the plot twist. Melissa might be family. Their kinship didn't diminish his desire for her but added a new dimension to their romance. He wanted to protect her. No one fucked with his family.

The teen felt a dull pain in his chest. Lance suddenly remembered he had been shot! The teen pulled over to the side of the road. He tore off his shirt and examined himself in the rearview mirror. There was a large bruise above his left pectoral. No blood. Not even a flesh wound. Did the bikers use rubber bullets? Weird...

Joanna waited for him in the dirt lot in front of the roadhouse.

"They got Melissa," she told him.

"Hop on."

They tore out on his Harley. The gang had a hideout near Jerry's. Jo yelled out the directions as they raced down the road. Lance shut off the engine to his bike just before the turnoff to their clubhouse.

"Stay here," he told Joanna.

"Are you packing?"

Lance smiled and grabbed his crotch.

"I'm serious. Those are bad dudes."

"I am packing," he explained. "You need a big pair to stand up to guys like that."

Before Joanna could stop him, Lance marched down the winding gravel road that led to the gang's compound. Despite his lack of a gun, he felt eerily calm. The drug treatments left him almost impervious to fear. More than anything, the alpha beast hungered for confrontation. The bikers shot him and stole his girl. They had fucked with the wrong guy.

Their cycles were parked outside a single-story cinder block shack. Steel door. Barred windows. Heavy metal shook the tarpaper roof. They didn't hear him outside. Lance walked right up to the building and slammed his fist into the door. The impact dented the sheet metal. His next blow busted the door right off its hinges. Lance marched inside.

The bikers outnumbered him six to one. However, two had passed out on couches. A third was taking a leak. The other three played poker around a card table. None of them expected to see him again.

"Give me the girl," he ordered.

One of the bikers drew his gun. Lance moved on him. The fucker shot him point blank. The gunshot knocked him off his feet. His head slammed against the floor. It hurt. It really hurt. But not like he imagined. The pain felt more like the sting of a hornet. That's when he realized what happened. The bullet had bounced off his chest and harmlessly dropped to the floor. It lay a couple feet away in a tiny heap of smoldering metal.

Lance slowly got up and lumbered forward. The pain was quickly receding. Everyone in the room had seen what just went down. They might not have believed it but they had seen it.

"GIVE ME THE GIRL!" he yelled ferociously.

No one moved. They were scared shitless. The manbeast felt uncontrollable rage surge through his veins. He slammed his fist down on the card table. CRACK! The table splintered in half. The brute force of the blow startled even Lance. He no longer knew his own strength. His doctors mentioned he might experience additional increases in muscle mass all the way into his twenties but nothing of this magnitude.

"Freeze!"

Lance whipped around. Joanna stood in the doorway. She brandished a Colt 45 in a two-handed stance. The alt-babe knew her way around a gun. Taking command of the situation, Joanna ordered a biker to open a storage closet. Melissa was tied to a chair. She looked OK. No one had touched her. Lance untied the captive. No one stopped him. Joanna held the gang at gunpoint. Melissa staggered a couple steps forward. Lance swooped her into a bridal carry. The trio exited the compound. Joanna walked backwards into the darkness. She kept her gun trained on the doorway. The gang stayed inside. She looked ready to use deadly force.

They reached his cycle at the side of the road. Lance mounted the bike. Joanna took the bitch seat. Melissa straddled his lap. She clung to him like a lost child. Lance fired the ignition. He piloted the motorbike onto the highway. The vehicle weaved from the weight of three passengers. Whatever. Lance pushed the pedal to the metal. They darted off into the dark.

The roads were 4am empty. Melissa rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. He felt her heart thump against his chest. His head swirled with a jumble of emotions. Who was she? Maybe he didn't want to know. No taboo would stop him from quenching the lust that fueled his strenuous sex life. If anything, the transgression only sweetened her pussy. Lance despised authority. He obeyed no one. Not the army. Not his stepmother. Not even laws of kinship. The erotic outlaw would fuck anyone that pleased him.

Joanna had a suggestion. Her parents owned a summer cabin. They could hole up there for a few days. The location was remote. They reached the cabin at sunrise. Joanna handed out benzos. It had been a long night. The pills chilled them within minutes. They crashed on a California King with their clothes on. The girls snuggled up against his shoulders. Lance closed his eyes. He was too tired to fuck.

__

Lance woke up at 4pm. Joanna cooked breakfast. Melissa served it to him on a bed tray. The girls got underneath the sheets with him. They actually spoon-fed him his omelet. Lance gave each girl a good morning kiss. He tried to add some tongue to his lip lock with Jo. She pulled back.

"So Mel and I were talking," she explained. "And we decided to take things a bit slower today."

"Do I have any say in that?" smiled Lance, trying to hide his impatience.

"No!" the girls answered in unison.

"So what are we going to do today?" he asked.

"Truth or dare," answered Joanna. "But no 'sex' dares. Not from you at least."

Lance didn't conceal his disappointment. However, he did have something else on his mind...

"Melissa?" he asked, coming right to the point. "Are you my sister?"

"I don't know. Your father slept around. It pissed off Auntie Jane something fierce."

"Jane is your aunt?" he asked with not a small hint of surprise.

"And Jerry is my mother. Didn't Jane tell you about her sister?"

No she hadn't. The plot thickened...

"Jerry and Jane don't get along too well. They're still close but both of them have a case of sibling rivalry. But I really don't know about whether we have the same father. Jerry was a wild child back in those days. It could have been someone else."

Lance connected the dots. If Melissa was his sister, Jane might be his aunt. He had not been unaware of the striking resemblance between the two of them: tall, blonde, buxom, and smoking hot...

"Do you ever wonder about who your father might be?" he asked delicately.

"Not really. Us Hawthorne women do fine on our own. We just want one thing from a man."

Lance smiled. He definitely had what they wanted.

"But that doesn't mean I haven't fantasized about having a brother," she smiled provocatively.

"Truth," Joanna declared. "Tell us about your fantasy."

"Well, he would need to be big and strong," began Melissa. "So he could protect his sister. No one would fuck with him. And he would be one of those guys that looked so hot that his looks intimidated you. I would feel very shy around him but also curious. One day, I accidentally would walk in on him when he took a shower. And I'd see the size of his thing. Sometimes I would hear noises from his bedroom after school before our mother got home. Different girls would cry out his name and moan about his big dick. I would dream about how it would feel for him to do that to me."

Lance immersed himself in Melissa's story. His tool throbbed with excitement. He quietly stripped down to his underwear while she talked.

"At first, my brother wouldn't notice me. He would be a Don Juan with a lot of girlfriends. So I'd have to make the first move."

Melissa performed a casual striptease as she recounted her fantasy. She peeled off her leggings. Then came her blouse. The blonde could have modeled her see-through lingerie for Victoria's Secret.

"One night, I would sneak into his room after bedtime," narrated Melissa in a hushed whisper. "He would be sound asleep until I rolled him onto his back. Then I'd get on top of him kind of like this..."

The blonde crawled towards him and straddled his hips. His hands reached for her breasts. She swatted them away. Mel would determine the pace of his seduction.

"And I would grind my crotch against his. That would excite him. I'd get really wet too."

The teen acted out her story with burlesque exaggeration. Lance groaned as she gave him an ultra-deluxe, over-the-top lap dance, complete with fake moans. Joanna knelt behind the blonde and undid her bra. The topless temptress then leaned down and pinned his shoulders to the bed. She braced her arms against his muscle-bound chest to grind her pussy even harder against his prick. The weight made him flinch. Joanna sensed something amiss. Lance never showed pain.

"Easy does it, girl," he murmured. "I got a little boo-boo last night." Lance had two big bruises on his left pec.

"You OK?" asked Melissa, gently massaging his shoulders.

Lance didn't answer.

"Truth," declared Joanna, pointing to the elephant in the room. "What the fuck happened last night?"

"They shot me," he confessed.

"What do you mean?" Melissa answered incredulously.

"I think those bikers nailed me with rubber bullets."

"No self-respecting Cossack uses rubber bullets," noted Joanna. "They shoot to kill."

"Then I guess I'm bulletproof."

Melissa and Joanna looked at him funny.

Lance realized he either had to spill or clam up. The teen didn't open up to many people besides Jane. His military background inclined him to secrecy. But last night had bonded them. He decided to tell them everything.

"Listen, babe..." he blurted out. "I know this is going to sound a little crazy but I was part of a secret government experiment. They injected me with something that made me really strong. But it had side effects. I grew a really big dick. And it always got hard."

"Wait!" laughed Melissa. "You're blaming the government for that?"

"The doctors said my personality changed too," Lance continued. "They claimed I became cocky and aggressive. And my inhibitions weakened. I believe the army psychiatrist called that 'my superego.'"

"What's a superego?" asked Joanna. She dropped out of high school before her psych class covered Freud.

"I got kicked out of Special Forces for my...er...promiscuity."

"What do you mean?" joked Melissa with mock indignation, grinding her pussy against the giant bulge in his briefs. "That you banged a lot of chicks?" Lance smiled. She seemed more amused than scandalized by his confession.

"Well, let's just say I got caught more than a few times. So after a bunch of warnings, Uncle Sam gave me the boot."

"You must have been pissed," said Joanna.

"Actually, I was fucking happy to get out. The military isn't fun. That's why I better lay low for a while. If the scientists found out what happened last night... that I could take a bullet and just walk away like that... They might take me back into custody and run a bunch of stupid tests."