The Need for Seed Ch. 04

Author's Note: This is part of a longer series. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over 18 and are the author's fictional creations. Enjoy.

*****

Four Years Earlier

Everyone else gone; the two of us had stuffed the last plastic fork and paper plate into trash bag. I could tell Meg was exhausted but still on a high from the incredibly positive reception the opening of her new Tattoo shop, MegNz, had received. She looked spectacular in her heels showing off those toned legs, short black leather skirt and sleeveless wife-beater undershirt, a red bra showing prominently under it.

She looked at me with an odd thoughtful expression. Her face was flushed, I assumed, from the free flowing alcohol. Or maybe catching me checking her out. "Thank you, Michael. For everything. I would not be here without you."

Meghan wrapped me up in a tight hug.

"Anything for you, Meg. Congratulations, people love the MegNz. And you."

"And I love you." She pulled back, and again I saw that odd look in her eyes. She pushed me hard in the chest with both hands. "Idiot."

I stumbled back two steps at the unexpected shove.

'Idiot' was a standard response she used if I missed something totally obvious, like a punch line. I must have missed the whole joke this time.

She stepped toward me, shoved again. I leaned into the second impact. Her hands struck my chest but I didn't move. He face briefly registered pain as the force jammed her wrists.

"Damn, you're solid." Her hands stayed on my chest. Checking out my pecs, squeezing me like a piece of prime meat.

She turned away from me, her head up at an angle, thinking.

"Remember when we used to..."

I grabbed her before she finished, scooping up a wrist with each hand, knowing what we were both thinking.

"Yesss." She leaned away, letting me catch her weight as her hands met behind her back. Drunker than I had realized, she leaned fast enough that I barely caught her, jerking her shoulders back with the force of stopping her from falling on her face.

I pulled her upright, gripping her upper arms now from behind to keep her vertical. She leaned into me, her shoulder blades against my chest, before pushing her upper body away with a jerk. Her ass, wrapped in black leather, ground back on my crotch as she bent sharply at the waist. Again, I held her hanging with her arms acutely stretched back.

"Ohh, yeah. This was always my favorite." When I had held her like this long ago, she never moved her ass like that against me. Like a standing lap dance. Her torso hung like a suspension cable between her hips and shoulders, both of them suspended on me. Her hips and ass continued their slow grind.

I realized my cock was completely erect, pressing back against my sister's hard ass. I had no idea how long it had been standing up. Meghan groaned, hanging in my arms, rubbing back on my cock. The girl, the woman, of my most shameful fantasies.

I pushed her forward and lowered her upper body onto the nearest support: a new maroon vinyl covered massage table, for clients to be able to fully recline while being inked. It left her leather-covered ass higher than her down-facing head and still pushed hard against me.

I released my grip on her upper arms. I held her back pushed down on the massage table with one palm while the other hand pulled her skirt up, exposing her to me.

"We can't." Her voice was faint. One hand reached blindly back to tug the skirt down. I grabbed her wrist and twisted the hand behind her, securing it to the middle of her back with my other hand.

I let my free hand explore her exposed ass and hips, still tight against me. I stroked and squeezed, not gently.

"Nooo." She groaned. "Michael, I'm your sister. I can't let you do this."

I slid my hand between her legs. I felt cotton and wetness.

"Can't let me, sexy sister?" My hand slid under the wet panties. "You don't have to let me do this. All you have to do is not stop me, and we'll both get what we've always wanted."

My thumb dipped into her wetness, pushing thickly in and out. Meghan groaned down into the padded table. Her legs shook.

When my hips eased back from her and the sound of my belt buckle releasing reached her, the only reaction was for the fingers of her strong little hand pinned behind her back to softly stroke what they could reach of my hand, holding her pinned. My pants hit the floor.

"Ahhhh!" Her entire body tensed as my hard cock head dragged up between her legs. With her soaked panties shoved to the side, I felt her slippery silk welcome.

I had told her all she had to do for this to happen was to not stop me. My gorgeous, hard bodied, tattooed sister did not. I knew I couldn't stop myself. Squeezing her wrist tighter as I put more weight on her lean muscular back, I pushed inside.

"Michael." It was a hoarse whisper. "What are we doing?"

My body answered her. Holding on with one hand tight on her lean hip, I sawed in and out of her tightness. For most of my adult life I had chastised myself, trying to convince myself that I didn't really want this. Inside my sister finally, fucking her bent over form, I had never wanted anything more desperately.

The tension I felt radiated down my spine from from skull, pulsing with every thrust. My breaths were harsh and ragged. My balls pulled up tight behind my thrusting crazed cock.

"Meghan." It was barely a word. "I'm going to cum."

"No!" She started to struggle hard. Her hand popped free from my grip behind her back. Surprised, I let her push me away and out of her. A long string of shining precum hung from my red swollen tip pointing straight out toward her.

She spun to face me, eyes wide and wild, mouth gasping in air. So close to cumming, I felt anger bubbling up that she had chosen that point to finally stop me. Then she spoke.

"Give me your seed, Michael. Let me taste you." Before her words sunk in she dropped to her knees.

I saw her hand wrap around my shaft, pumping. Her thumb pressed along the underside, forcing the clearish fluid she craved up the channel. She wrapped her lips, so sexy, so hot, around my head and sucked.

I didn't thrust into her mouth and I didn't force her head down on me, though both actions came near to becoming reality. If this hadn't been Meghan, my ideal and my sister, one or both would have happened.

Instead the shock of this strong, sexy, independent woman dropping to her knees to taste me struck a nerve already frayed by our forbidden contact. With her lips secured around my bulbous head, her tongue inside lapping at the first taste of my fluids pumped free by her hand, I exploded.

I distantly heard her choke as the first blast launched into her throat, followed by softer sounds of encouragement as she continued to swallow, my cock spasming repeatedly in her mouth. My knees quaked with the sudden release, then slowly gave out.

With more concentration, perhaps I could have remained standing. I had no ability to concentrate as my sister continued to milk any remaining cum from me. I managed to lower myself to the floor instead of falling, Meg's hands slipping back to cup my ass, holding me in her mouth, as she sank down with me.

Leaning back flat on the floor, my sister still slurping any remaining cum from me, my hands finally found her head. As soon as my fingers wrapped around, tangled in her long hair, she moaned.

The sound sent vibrations down my shaft, just starting to soften. I pushed her mouth down onto me, groaning as I felt my more spongy head butt against and then enter her throat. My sister moved down with my hands, encouraged it seemed, rather than forced.

Her moans continued, the sensation it sent changing as my entire cock entered her mouth. My head was squeezed and teased by the tightness of her throat, still sensitized by my recent orgasm.

My sister coughed wetly, pulling my hands upward as she backed her mouth off me with a deep gasp. The sudden penetration of her throat had forced me back fully erect and the expanding bulb had been too much for her. Meghan licked my rigid head one more time before climbing on top of me.

I looked up at her, straddled across my crotch, my cock against her. Her chest heaved with each breath. The white tank top was askew, showing more of her bra and the curve of swelling breasts pushing up out of it.

"We probably shouldn't have done that."

My sister's hips rocked on mine. "Probably not."

"Do you regret it?"

"Not yet. Do you regret choking me with that big cock in my throat?"

I could see her broad smile. Her hips continued their motion.

"Not yet. Maybe not ever. You swallowed my cum, beautiful sister. I liked that a lot."

"I liked it too." She licked her lips.

"Kiss me." She did, leaning down to press her gorgeous body to me, sliding her tongue against mine. My hands went to her hard ass, pulling her down on my stiff cock. Her hips began to grind.

When our lips parted we were both breathing hard. My hands left her rocking hips to cup both full breasts. The last time I had held her tit she had been choked unconscious, and both of us much younger. This was very different

"Michael, we probably should stop now."

"We probably should. Do you want to?"

"No." A whisper.

"Then don't stop, Meghan. For me, for your little brother, please don't stop. I love you."

Without another word, she pulled her tight tank top over her head. I dropped my hands to my sides and watched. Unclasping her bra between her tits, she let them swing free. My groan was loud as I bucked up into my sister. I could not remember ever not wanting this, desperately.

Beautiful full breasts, still showing reddish creases in the tender skin from the confining bra she had been wearing all evening. Perfect erect nipples, both completed with fine gold rings pierced through their centers, barely large enough to not constrict her swollen hard nubs.

I watched my sister reach under her leather skirt, pushing the bunched up wet panties further to the side before lining my cock up with her opening. She sank down on me, slowly taking me inside. When her hips had sunk down to meet mine she again leaned down to kiss me, her naked tits now pressed to me.

I tried to convince myself we gave ourselves in to what we both knew we shouldn't crave so hungrily, for one drunken unforgettable night shoving shame, reason and sanity aside. Part of me knew Meghan had no responsibility for this; my incestuous lust was to blame. It explained why she seemed to shy away from me after that, avoiding times when we were alone together.

--

But now she was blaming herself for my idiocy. It occurred to me that she might have somehow blamed herself all this time.

"Listen, Meghan. You didn't betray me. I betrayed you."

"What!?" She shook harder to free herself, still facing the washing machine in the small laundry room, her back to me.

"You said it. My job is to protect you, to rescue you, and I used you. I wanted you so bad, I always have, but I never should have done that to you. I am so sorry."

Her struggles had stopped. "You're my little brother!"

"I haven't been your little brother in a long time." I pulled her arms back until I controlled her balance. "When is the last time you could actually get away from me, Meghan? When is the last time you wanted to?"

She struggled again, jerking her arm suddenly out of my grip. Without thinking I slipped my arm around her neck, under her chin, and cinched down. I released her other hand to grab my own, to control her head. How many times had I pictured holding her like this, since that afternoon so long ago?

"Oh fuck." It was a whisper of surrender. I felt her body give in completely before I applied any pressure around the carotid artery. She relaxed as soon as she felt the hold sink in, slumping against me. I held her, the implied threat or perhaps promise to choke her out enough for her to give in to me.

"I love you, amazing, beautiful, talented sister." She leaned more into me. She had to feel my hard cock against her tight firm ass.

"Do you trust me?"

She nodded. From the slight shaking I could again feel, I assumed she was crying.

"Then trust this: you could never do anything to betray me, Meghan. I love you too much. I've kicked myself for four years, for betraying your trust, for acting on my sick impossible fantasies. Meghan, do you know how much it turns me on still to think of that night? I'm ashamed when I do, because I took such advantage of you, but I still can't help it."

"Me too." Her voice was so small. Her ass rubbed side to side on me. "You still think of...me, Michael? Of then?"

"Too often for my sanity."

"I make you crazy?"

"Yes, sweet sexy sister, you do."

"And you don't think I betrayed you?"

"You gave me an incredible gift."

Her hand stroked my arm where it still held her, under her chin. "And it took us four years to figure this out?"

"Looks that way."

"Michael?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think we have it figured out now?" Her fingers were tracing the slight depressions between the muscles along my forearm.

My arm eased from around her throat, draping over her sexy shoulder. The other slipped around her waist, savoring the ripples of muscle that covered her lean belly under the tight dress. My little finger stroked low on her, over the area of the unseen Sunrise. I wanted to slide the hand down, past the short red hem, over her mound and between her legs. I resisted.

"I doubt it, Sis." Her fingers found and entwined with mine, holding my arm low around her. My other hand traced lazy lines around her collar bone and onto her shoulder. "But we can try. Do you love me?"

"You know I do, Mike." She melted back into my embrace. "I love you more than anything, besides my daughter."

My cock twitched against her as she melted into me, and as she mentioned Niecey.

"You mean the daughter who just peed herself while her uncle spanked her?" I knew I had to bring up what Niecey and I had done, but was horrified it would ruin the refound closeness with my sister.

She slapped my arm. "I know! The little minx. Let's deal with us first. So. You are really okay with what I did?"

"I am more than okay with everything you did, that we did. Except not having this talk four years ago." My upper hand left her shoulder. Draped over her from behind, it seemed so natural for it to settle down around her full round breast, my forearm across her chest. My thumb brushed consciously across her nipple, no bra there to protect her sensitive piercing.

Feeling the raised button and it's golden adornment, I brought a finger to my thumb and pinched, before rolling the sensitive point between the two.

I felt her sharp inhale before she whispered. "Do you wanna make up for lost time?"

I finally allowed the hand on her hip to explore south toward her short dress' lower edge. Toward the world's finest thigh gap.

When she turned to face me I pulled her close, the exploring hand now grabbing her muscular ass cheek, the other losing the breast before wrapping around to find the back of her shorn neck under her long hair. When my sister kissed me, I never wanted it to end.

It did end. Strong small hands snaked between us to my chest and pushed us apart a few inches. She leaned back in for another quick taste of me. I was raging hard in my pants, my nape tingling with the memory of her fingers' eager dances there as our tongues waltzed.

I saw the sliver of white below her green irises as she glared up at me, her nostrils flairing slightly with each breath. It was a look I saw only in turned-on, sexy women and Hollywood movie psychopaths.

"Is this really happening?"

"Yes, Sweet Sister, it is. If it's what you want." My eyes searched her face for the answer I needed to hear.

"Michael. I want this so much." Another, softer kiss. "I want you. I want you to fuck your big sister."

I groaned, my hips humping against her at her words. "You're not that big, Meghan."

"Okay, fuck your horny little sister, then."

"Here?" We both looked around the cramped, plain laundry room. I didn't wait for an answer. I scooped her legs up and cradled my beautiful sister in my arms, carrying her to the private back deck, my PINK sweats tented by my raging erection.

Meghan had a collection of sectional outdoor furniture pushed together like a giant couch near the sunken hot tub, it's waters glowing with the underwater lights that provided the space's only current illumination. I knew from the past that there were a few other single chairs and chaise lounges positioned in the dark, shadowed area of the deck, where they would be ideal for sunning during the day.

I lowered my sister onto the flat soft cushions of the sectional, noticing how her already short dress had pushed up almost to the crotch. She saw my hungry stare between her strong lean thighs.

"Would you like to see my new art?"

"Sunrise?"

"No, the whole thing. Once you see it you'll know Sunrise isn't the right name."

"You know I would."

Meghan sat up, keeping her eyes on me. She peeled both shoulder straps down over her arms. I must have looked surprised, knowing the tattoo was below her waist and her hem could be only a few inches away from the art everyone wanted to see.

"Patience, dear brother. It's best to see it from the top down."

She pulled one thin strap lower, the material of her tight stretchy dress clinging to her full breasts before releasing one. I watched the slow motion unveiling in awe, seeing soft flesh bulge above the descending material. The cloth caught on her pieced nipple, pulling it down with the dress until it popped free, pointing out at me.

The second nipple followed, her full tits supported and displayed by the dress bunched close below them. As much as I wanted to see the body art others were willing to pay so much to publish, I couldn't resist her strip tease.

The vision of my gorgeous sister straddling me, stripping off her top and bra for me four years ago, had become a tortuous symbol of the unholy blend of lust and shame my thoughts of her had become. Now, as she once more bared her breasts to me, the shame dissolved, vanished. We had both blamed ourselves, when no blame was needed. That we both lusted for one we also loved was no cause for shame.

I desperately wanted to see the red dress continue south until it cleared her ankles, unveiling every inch of her, but my sister's pert pierced nipples called me.

The soft shifting light from under the spa water cast a golden orange glow on her skin. I pushed her back on the cushions, the dress around her middle, my focus on her amazing breasts reaching up toward me.

Where Niecey's breasts were lovely little mounds, just fitting in my palm, with nipples that crinkled in to form tiny hard vaguely conical peaks of sensitivity, my Meghan's were perfect full handfuls capped with nipples an artist might draw. Each areola was a tightened disk the size of a quarter capped with a hard cylindrical pencil eraser, slightly rounded at the end. A small gold ring snugged around each, the metal pieced through the nerve-filled tip.

I sucked one into my mouth. I felt the warm gold, the tensed flesh, and my sister's sharp intake of breath. The fine metal ring provided a solid fulcrum for her raised nipple as I flicked it hard with my tongue, flexing the sensitive protrusion over its own tiny shackle. I pulled hard on her, tugging the nipple up away with my lips, stretching her breast upward. I released it to snap back while her long legs slowly writhed against mine.

I kissed her then, hard, our bodies grinding together, her legs coming up to wrap around my waist. My sister pushed me up, away enough to see my face. Her eyes were wild.

"Choke me. Please, Michael. Like we used to."

I smiled down at her. "Choke you? If that's what my sister wants, that's what she's going to get."