The Haunted Hotel Ch. 03

What if it was Zach's cock inside of her, pressing up towards the life-giving part of herself? What if was his seed? Perhaps by daylight, her rational mind would prevail, but for now she indulged the idea. At the same time, she knew there was still a chance that this was only an illusion, a fantasy without consequence.

Rocking back and forth, riding him at her own pace, she was quickly approaching her own climax. She could feel the effect it was having on him too, so attuned now to the rhythm of his breathing, to the thrust of his hips, the grasping of his hands, the subtle swells and ebbs of him inside her that nonetheless felt enormous.

He reached his peak first, and she felt him fill her void again, pulling her tight to him, to push himself just a little further up into her, the sudden splash of warmth reaching a little closer to its target. She bore her weight down on him, trying to take him deeper into herself. His seed erupted into her again, and she felt herself lose control.

She leaned down and kissed him hard, knowing full well it was Zach's face she saw staring up at her with awe, Zach's lips against hers, Zach's tongue dancing in her mouth. She felt another wave of orgasm crash through her, while his arms gripped her back tightly.

Their hips bucked against each other, out of their control now, something primal and unconscious taking hold. Their shared, mutual climax was not a brief moment, but a chain reaction playing itself out between them. The negotiation of a merger between two bodies. Amy felt like she was just along for the ride, and struggling to hang on. Somewhere in that prolonged moment, she blacked out.

--

Zach slowly opened his eyes. It didn't feel like much time at all had passed. He still had her weight resting on him. He still felt his erection, spent but still deep inside her, along with the evidence of their deed.

But he also recognized the chill in the air. The crumbling grey ceiling overhead. The bare floor underneath him, cushioned only by a layer of sleeping bag. The hotel was gone. They were in the ruins now.

She was still on top of him and around him, like they had woken up here together once before. He knew at a glance, and by the feel of her, that it was Amy on top of him, not Violet. He wondered if it ever actually had been Violet at all, or if it had been Amy the entire time. The thought should have alarmed him more than it did.

As the first one to awaken, he knew he should be surprised and disturbed. He should hurry to extricate himself from underneath her. That's what a brother should do in this situation, he thought. Though a good brother wouldn't be in this situation.

Instead, he lay there, enjoying the moment while it lasted. Even as they lay there resting, it felt good to be joined to her like that, the way her pussy cradled his softening cock.

Eventually he noticed that Amy's eyes were open too. He noticed that she noticed that his eyes were open, and that she knew he knew. Still neither of them moved to pull away. For a long moment, they said nothing. They didn't dare admit that neither of them had decided not to untangle themselves.

Zach couldn't be sure if it was conscious or not, but he started to feel himself firm up again inside her. Even knowing it was Amy, undeniably and truly Amy this time. He worried what was coming next. Yet she still didn't pull away either.

Finally Amy spoke, in little more than a whisper. "Is this still the illusion?"

Zach considered the question. He knew it wasn't the illusion anymore. They were obviously back in the real world. Amy had to know that too. And yet...

"Yeah. I think it is," he replied.

He felt her squeeze her muscles around him, and he let out an involuntary gasp. They were already so tightly conjoined, and yet it felt like not quite enough. With small movements, they pressed ever tighter against each other, conjoining their bodies as deeply and completely as they could.

Zach recognized everything that was already familiar to him about Amy's body, having known more of it than a brother should. Even so, it felt completely different to be with Amy in body and soul, not Violet in disguise, or Amy disguised as Violet. It felt different to know for certain that it was his sister, for her to know it was him, and for them to still go through with this together.

This was the woman he'd known he'd grown up with, known his entire life, seen mature and become sexually active, and settle down and become ready for motherhood. Every gentle, tentative touch between them carried an enormous weight.

Even though the movement of her hips was slight, the muscles, the walls inside her were in constant motion. Pushing on him, pulling him, caressing him. Silently begging for release and begging him for his. It threatened to overwhelm him quickly. He knew that what was coming could be very bad.

"Amy, do you want me to-" he began to ask, and she both answered and silenced him with a kiss. Not letting him even get the question out. A kiss that united them in a way their bodies hadn't yet.

It was too much all at once. He could feel it gathering in his chest and up through his knees, the momentum moving into the center of him. He was powerless to hold it back any longer. He wanted her inside and out, wanted every part of her, wanted to make her his, wanted to put something inside her that would last. And he was on the cusp of all of it.

Acting out of some misguided primal instinct, he grabbed her buttocks and thrust as deep up into her as he could, towards her waiting womb. He could feel her vaginal walls pressing tightly in on him, still ever shifting around him, as he swelled up within her, swelling and pressing outward against her squeezing down on him. They shared a gasped breath in the last moment before it hit, both knowing what was about to come.

--

It wasn't the first time Amy felt a man ejaculate deep inside her that weekend. She knew there was already lots of his seed inside her already, seeking out her fertile egg. But knowing for certain it was her brother, knowing that he knew it was her, knowing that it was their shared, incestuous DNA that they were mixing together in her, that made it different when she felt the sudden warmth of it reach her cervix.

She'd been building towards an orgasm of her own. The feeling of him jetting into her, the knowledge of what it meant, set her off. She felt her vaginal muscles contract around him, squeezing him, drawing more of his genetic material up into her, into the last place in the world it would belong.

She knew it was her brother's lips she moaned into, and somehow that made it all sweeter, made all of the confusion and uncertainty of the ordeal worth it, just to experience this bliss, this fulfillment. She could feel it from head to toe, her entire body committed to feeling this mating brought to fruition. She gave her entire being to him, holding nothing back.

She felt him swell inside her again, and pour more of his seed into her womb. They were aligned just right for it to reach her deepest recesses, to warm her to the core, to spark life at her center. If this couldn't get her pregnant, she couldn't imagine what would. It touched off another wave of her orgasm, and she clenched down him again, making him swell and jet again. Their orgasms fed into each other. He seemed to give and give unendingly, every time making her react and reward him for it.

At last they were both emptied and full to the brim, tender and numbed. They lay there conjoined, just as they had woken up, but newly sweaty, with yet more of his seed deep inside her, this time knowingly.

Amy couldn't believe what they'd done. Even after experiencing it, it was hard for her to grasp how they could have gotten to this point, so far beyond what she ever would have expected.

It wasn't a sensation of being outside her body-no, she was definitely in that and hyper-aware of it. It was more about being removed from the part of her that worried about cheating on her husband or getting pregnant with her brother's child. All that felt tawdry and mundane compared to the almost divine truth of how it felt between them.

She wasn't ready to leave the little pocket of denial they created for themselves. She wasn't about to let their afterglow fade into the darkness of what they'd really done. Carefully, deliberately squeezing her muscles around him, Amy managed to keep her brother hard inside herself. It gave her a twisted bit of pride when she successfully proved that she could.

Now it was his turn to ask. "So...this is still the illusion, right?"

"I'm counting on it," she answered, and kissed him again.

He rolled her over onto her back, and pushed himself back into her. She hooked her legs behind his, drawing him in deeper, her hands in his hair as they kissed again, her hands on his back, on his buttocks, urging him on. They moved little against each other, but they felt it all in oversensitive detail. This time he lasted longer, and she found herself reduced to begging.

All she could bear to say was, "Cum in me."

She was so close to the brink, but her body needed his to push her over it. She didn't dare give voice to the deeper request behind it. Knock me up, brother. Mate me, plant your seed, impregnate me. But she felt the misguided drive behind her body's ardor.

When he heard that, while looking deep into her eyes, his penis deep inside his sister's vagina, it was enough to set him off. She felt him fill her again, even fuller, their illicit union all the more consummated, as she shook and spasmed and convulsed under him. She could feel her aftershocks ripple through his nerve endings and back into herself. She felt him deposit more of himself where she needed it most, felt the way his flesh reacted to every uncontrollable tremor of hers. She never would have expected the perfect way they fit together, the heights they could bring each other to. It was delicious knowledge, and dangerous.

--

They stayed conjoined as long as they could, exploring each other's bodies, bringing each other to climax again and again. Every time Zach poured his seed into his sister's body, she accepted it eagerly, drawing it out of him.

Whenever they got past a certain point, there was nothing to be done but let the reproductive ritual of their anatomy play itself out in a shuddering, explosive mess. It was something like what he'd felt on that fateful night with Claire years ago. He never thought he'd experience that again, let alone with the least likely person in the universe.

Eventually the sun was starting to set outside the empty ruined window, and Zach was desperately in need of food and water and to relieve himself. He wanted this moment of sweet denial to last as long as possible, but reality wouldn't let them stay here forever.

He was worn out and hungry and thirsty and sore from the concrete floor, but Zach also felt incredible. Despite what he'd done-what they'd done, together-or perhaps because of it, he couldn't tell. The sleeping bag-they had only used one, after all-was sodden from their sweat and their sex.

He took one last photo of the hotel entrance as they left. Now there was no glass in the doors. The decorative archway had crumbled beyond recognition. They shoved the gear back in the car. There was no snow on the ground, no sign that there ever had been.

They said little on the drive back. Zach felt unsure where he stood. Unsure of what they had now, or what they no longer had.

Just before they reached Amy and Greg's house, Amy said quietly, "It never happened. None of it happened. Got it?"

It sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

"Yeah. Got it," Zach said, though he didn't entirely feel it. The new instincts they'd discovered, the new way of relating to each other, of fitting his body to hers, was going to be hard to leave behind.

Part of him still felt that closeness to her, and was disappointed that he'd have to keep himself at more of a distance than he wanted. He had a fleeting impulse to kiss her before she went inside, but he dismissed it. They had to be normal again now.

Before he went home, he stopped and got the photos developed at a one hour place, even though the roll of film was less than half used. When he went back in to pick them up, the clerk gave him a knowing smirk. Zach made nothing of it at first, but he sat in his car and opened up the packet.

The first shot was a picture of the hotel entryway, crumbling and lichen-stained. A shot of the dark, mouldering interior of the hotel lobby, with the barest suggestion of old furniture. A few more interior shots of the abandoned hotel, as it really was, not as Zach saw it.

Then there was one of Amy, sitting on the edge of the sleeping bag, a sly smile on her fact as she swigged from a canteen. It was Violet's smile on her face, Violet's posture in the way she sat. It made Zach shiver to look at, especially as he suspected what was to come.

Next it was Amy naked, her arms and legs spread wide, ready for him to eat her out. Amy lying in the sleeping bag, looking content and freshly fucked, the first time of many. It was uncanny seeing her play the role of Violet, and yet he found himself hardening in his jeans at the sight of his sister.

The roll of film ended with another shot of the decrepit hotel entrance, much like the first photo, but a day later, and closer to dusk when they'd left. It confirmed his suspicions. Violet had never been real. The hotel had never been real. It had been just him and Amy, the whole time.

He knew he should be disturbed, to know now how many times he'd had sex with Amy before he knew it was her. But because of what came after that, it felt...right. Inevitable. He knew it was a matter of time before he was jacking off to those photos, remembering the tender, intimate moments they shared. Her body, the ecstasy they shared, it had all been a revelation beyond anything he'd ever experienced, and he didn't know what to do about it.

--

Amy got another emergency contraceptive. It was a pain in the ass and made her feel ill for a day, but she knew the alternative was far worse. She knew she shouldn't try to get pregnant with Greg this month, just to be sure. Amy wasn't sure how she'd explain that to him. She also wasn't sure she'd need to.

When she came home, Greg was playing a video game. He didn't bother to pause it when she came in, didn't get up and greet her with a kiss like he would have before.

"Hey, honey, I'm home," she called out.

"Hey," he echoed absent-mindedly.

She hesitated about what to say next. If she mentioned "staying overnight", that could lead him to the wrong conclusions, not that they were incorrect. She couldn't mention getting little sleep, or getting too cold to sleep alone...

"Did you get my text? I was out of cell range, and we got snowed in."

He didn't answer at all. She sighed.

At least there was one upside to how little attention he was paying. She probably stank of semen and sex, and she was lucky he didn't care enough to notice. She knew she needed a shower.

Her heart sank, and she let it all go in the shower, as she scrubbed herself clean. But she knew the inside of her wasn't going to be so easily cleansed. It wasn't just about Zach's seed swimming within her. It was the risk of finding themselves alone again, still plagued by the memory of him inside her, of the ecstasies he brought her to.

In the coming weeks, she often found herself looking back on their tender love-making on the sleeping bag, getting uncontrollably aroused at the memory of how her body had reacted to her brother's. She knew she shouldn't keep replaying it in her mind as her fingers brought her to orgasm, but she had so little else to sustain her.

Maybe after she got her period, she and Greg could still get back on track. But if he saw right through her, if he somehow knew how deeply she'd been changed by her experience, it might never be the same with him. And then...then she didn't know what she'd be willing to do, how far she'd be willing to go.