tagIncest/TabooTwins in College Ch. 50

Twins in College Ch. 50


"Your father and I have decided that since your Uncle Herbert hasn't been able to truly have Thanksgiving for the six years he's been working in Germany, that we would go to visit him this year."

"That's nice, Mom," I said, sitting on the porch with the cordless phone, watching some kids play in the park across the street.

"You and Victor are welcome to come home for Thanksgiving if you'd like," she offered, "even though we won't be here. Then again, knowing you two, that's probably exactly what you'd like!"

I blushed, and the laugh heard across the miles made me blush even more profusely.

"We'll be gone the Tuesday before Thanksgiving to the Tuesday afterward, so we won't see you at all if you decide to come home from college for the holiday. We can arrange to have one of the neighbors pick you two up from the airport and get you back if you'd like."

"That's okay," I said. "We can either get a cab each way, or perhaps rent a car. There are also a few door-to-door shuttle services we could use."

"True enough. Okay, then. Let me know if you two will be coming for Thanksgiving. If you are, I'll make sure the house is stocked with food and snacks for you."

"Sounds good. I'll check with my big brother when he returns from work."

"Good." Then my mother's voice took on a different tone: "Be a good baby sister for him, okay?"

I knew exactly what she meant, and I blushed yet again.


"Well, we can either stay here for essentially free," my big brother reasoned as he was sprawled out upon the sofa, his head in my lap, "or we could pay the airfare and shuttle fees to go home. In either case, it will be just us."

"Very true," I acknowledged, stroking his hair. "Then again, it would be worth it just to be back home for a while, even though it would be just us."

"So you think we should go?"

"It's not like we can't afford it!" I answered with a laugh.

He smiled up at me, reaching upward to caress my cheek. "Then let's do it."

"Then that settles it," I said.

"That settles it," my big brother agreed.

On impulse, I spit in my hand and held it out to him. He grinned, spit in his own hand, and we shook on it, sealing our decision.


I clutched my big brother tightly as I stood before him, naked save for the waist chain, earrings, and a thong. His hand down the front of my thong, he fingered me to yet another powerful orgasm as I cried out past his ear.

When I had calmed at last, it was time to get dressed. When we left for the airport, the crotch of my thong was still nicely damp, a perpetual reminder of the illicit moments I had shared with my big brother.

...and a precursor to the many illicit moments we would share over the long weekend.


As we approached the security checkpoint at Oakland International Airport, an officer with a police dog approached us. The officer paid us no attention, but the dog looked directly at me, its nose definitely atwitch. I wondered if once again, a dog was quite aware of my forbidden love for my big brother, and I blushed slightly.

Fortunately, the officer did not notice, as he was intently listening to whatever was being said in his earpiece. My big brother, however, did notice, and made a snide comment about it one we were clearly out of earshot of the officer.


The Southwest flight was almost completely full. Fortunately, we were in the "A" group and were able to have first selection of seats. We opted for the last row on the left side of the plane, as usual. No one sat next to us, and the only person to sit across the aisle from us fell asleep even before the plane pushed back from the gate.

Underneath the blanket we shared, my big brother and I held hands. We chatted quietly, often gazing out the window at the world beneath us. It was a calm, quiet flight, fortunately with no screaming children. Being literally above the clouds was rather fitting, as that was how I felt at the moment, knowing that I would be both returning home for a few days and able to spend that time alone with my big brother.

"Will you be dominating me during this long weekend, Master?" I asked softly and sweetly, in my best possible "innocent little schoolgirl" voice as I batted my eyes.

He only grinned and squeezed my hand.


In the commotion which follows an airplane landing, when everyone stands and stretches at once and tries to stampede off the plane, my Master leaned toward me. "You want me to dominate you? Then let it begin right now. Take your purse into the lavatory with you and take off your thong and put it in your purse. You are to wear nothing under your skirt until we get home, and then we'll reevaluate the situation. Understood?"

"Yes, Master," I replied softly, trying not to smile too much.

I had to wait to enter the lavatory, but when I did, I very quickly removed the thong. Lifting it to my nose, I inhaled my natural scent, recalling with a smile the multiple orgasms inflicted upon me earlier in the day.

I had been granted several orgasms already, but my Master had not enjoyed a single climax yet that day. I had a strong suspicion that he would orgasm before I enjoyed another one, and that was fine with me.


We finally arrived at the family home, a light dusting of snow covering the street and the driveway and the grass. Our parents had left the lights on inside, and for just a moment, I nearly expected them to open the door and greet us.

But I was happy that they were not even in the country. It felt right to share Thanksgiving in the family home alone with the one member of the family I loved the most.

Our mother had indeed stocked the kitchen with food and snacks. Even though only two people would be in the house for the next few days, there was enough to feed the entire offensive line of any NFL team.

Despite our travel fatigue, I made dinner for us. I still did not wear anything underneath my skirt, and I wished that I was not wearing anything at all. But, with the exception of a thong, I remained fully dressed - as did my big brother - until after dinner.

After dinner, while I washed the dishes, my big brother built a small fire in the fireplace. By the time I had finished my task, the living room was aglow in dancing light, the curtains closed to ensure our intimate privacy.

He sat on the floor before the fireplace, gazing into the flickering flames. I knelt behind him and wrapped my arms around him, and we remained like that for a long time, enjoying the quiet, enjoying the heat and the orange glow, enjoying the respectful love.

I must have actually fallen asleep like that, for I suddenly found myself on my back upon the sofa, my big brother settling himself upon me. His weight pressing me into the sofa felt wonderful; his gentle kiss to the side of my neck added a nice touch to the moment. The fire had burned low, and the air was slightly cool, but my big brother warmed me, both with his body and with his love.

Slowly, my big brother aroused me. It never took much for him to arouse me - just a touch, just a glance, just a single whisper - and he very soon had my body dripping directly onto my skirt and my whimpers filling his lungs. His hands electrified my skin as he slowly ground himself against my mons. I wrapped my arms around him, but then he took my hands and placed them on the sofa on either side of my thighs.

"Don't touch," he said, "just feel."

"Yes, Master."

It was difficult, for I love to touch my big brother, to hold him close, to caress his body. Yet it was also thrilling, to be restrained by only his soft-spoken command, to be the object of his apparent desire, to feel his hardness continually pressing against me as his hands ignited my skin and his lips left burning marks upon my neck and cheeks. His slow, thoughtful, loving adoration aroused me further, causing my heartbeat and my breathing to both quicken noticeably.

In time, he slid off me, kneeling on the floor beside the sofa. Our eyes met, and I could see the flame of love and desire burning brightly within him. I started to reach for him, but he slapped my hand away; I was still bound by his command. Once my hand had been replaced, he touched me again, one hand on my chest and one hand stroking my hair.

"I want to make love to you," my big brother whispered. "I want to slowly slide into you, feel your body give way for me, slowly fill you and listen to you gasp and moan for me."

His words aroused me even more than the action of his hands.

"And when I am fully inside you, I want to kiss you, long and slow and deep as I slowly back out of you and fill you again."

"Yes..." I whispered, both picturing and feeling the scenario he created with his words.

"We won't be Master and slave, and we won't be brother and sister. We'll simply be two longtime lovers loving each other slowly all night long, right here, here on the sofa, or maybe before the fireplace, slowly adoring each other until we cannot take any more and finally realizing a beautiful climax together, just as the sun finally rises..."


"Do you want that as well?" he asked in a whisper.

I wanted it, and he gave it to me. We did not last until sunrise - instead, sunrise brought about the third climax for each of us, and only then did we finally go to bed.


It was nearly noon when my big brother finally awoke, joining me in the shower. We held each other close as the warm water cascaded down upon us, and in time, I picked up his favorite soap and his washcloth and began to wash him, just like a dutiful slave washes her loving Master. When he had been fully cleaned, he leaned against the wall of the shower, watching me as I washed myself again, slowly stroking himself in a not-so-subtle signal of what he wanted from me.

Kneeling before my big brother and Master at last, I clasped my hands behind me and closed my eyes, opening my mouth, my face upturned like a baby bird waiting to be fed.

He fed me. He grabbed my hair to guide my head as he wanted, so that he could use my mouth to bring about his own pleasure, but, ultimately, he fed me, and, perhaps because we were in the family home once again, his love was particularly tasty.


Our parents called from Germany as I was standing naked in the kitchen, fixing what was to be Thanksgiving dinner. My big brother spoke with them for quite some time before he brought the cordless phone to me. Because I was in the middle of cooking, I did not talk long, but it was indeed strange to be naked while speaking to our father, even though he almost certainly had no idea of just how close my big brother and I truly were. Even our mother both knew about and actually condoned the forbidden relationship, being naked while speaking with her was nearly as strange. Fortunately, I had the excuse of cooking to cut the conversations with our parents short, and that brought the "strange" feeling to a much-needed end.

Dinner was a small turkey, dressing, baked potatoes, salad, and football. It would have been nice to be able to have some wine with dinner, but since we were not yet of legal drinking age and our parents were not home to serve it to us and supervise our limited consumption, we decided not to open the wine which our parents had left behind for us, especially since several neighbors and family friends - including a police officer - knew that we would be home for Thanksgiving, and it would not have been out of the question for any of them to call or drop by just to check up on us.

As we finished dinner, my big brother seemed to suddenly have a realization, which was imprinted upon his face. "Wait a minute," he said. "What about dessert? I don't recall you making anything for dessert."

"Two reasons," I replied. "One, we've just eaten a lot, so I think we can wait a bit for dessert. Two, dessert does not need to be 'made.' Okay?"

He gave me a very quizzical look. "You've baffled me, baby sister."

I simply smiled, somewhat proud of myself. After all, it was not often that I could confuse my big brother like this. "Let's save dessert until, say, halftime of the second game."

Following dinner, still fully naked, I put away the leftovers and washed the dishes, then joined my big brother and Master, laying on the sofa with my head in his lap. His hand naturally drifted toward my chest, cupping a breast and squeezing occasionally as we watched football and chatted about everything and nothing.

As halftime of the second game approached, I reluctantly extricated myself from his arousing touches and went to the kitchen. There had been a can of whip cream in the refrigerator when we came home; I quickly found it and shook it, then made my way to the dining room table. Once on my back upon the table, I set the can between my thighs, not touching me but certainly close enough that I could sense the cold emanating from it, cooling my thighs and my damp sex.

When I heard the first half come to and end, I called out to my big brother, inviting him to come have his dessert. The expression upon his face when he saw me was of surprise laced with great appreciation. I laughed softly, fondling my own breasts to further entice him to come to me.

He kissed me first, a slow, lingering, adoring kiss. As the kiss lengthened, as I felt as if I would melt upon the table and drip down to the floor, he caressed my cheek, and even traced a heart symbol with his fingernail.

"Dessert, indeed!" he whispered when he finally stood erect once again. We shared a loving smile and I reached for him, for his jeans, touching him in a way a baby sister should never touch her big brother, but that touch lasted only a few seconds before he stepped back and made his way around the table.

He sat at the end of the table, and moved the can of whip cream to the outside of my left leg, then used my legs to pull me toward him, ultimately positioning my legs over his shoulders. "I like this view," he commented, and we both shared a quiet laugh together.

...until I took the can and pressed it to me, directly between my thighs, directly against my moistened sex. The cold caused me to gasp instantly, and my initial reaction was to push the can away. "Endure," was all my Master had to say, and my hands fell to my sides upon the table, the cold seeping through my body even after he had finally relented and pulled the can away.

"Good girl," he praised me. "Maybe I will eat you for dessert after all."

"Please," I whispered.

"Please what?"

"Please eat me."

"Please what?"

"Please eat me, Master."

Leaning forward, he applied his tongue to my sex for the first time in several days, and the sound which rippled past my throat was unlike any I could remember having ever made previously in my life. He established a slow rhythm, his tongue moving across my feminine stage like a world-renowned ballerina performing for an audience of expert critics. My hands played in his hair as he tongue and eventually his fingers played in my body. I could not remain still, nor could I remain quiet; my big brother and Master was loving me, and I could not restrain my natural responses.

Halftime ended, and still he was sampling my nectar, still he was suckling my clitoris as if it were a nipple which could give him milk, still I was crying out softly as he lovingly manipulated my body to another beautiful climax. There was such a strong connection between us at that time that the Pope himself could have walked into the house and I would not have cared.

Yet, in the back of my mind, I wished that Regina could be here to witness this intimate moment, this unselfish giving of myself to my big brother - and to her, if she were present to join him in the partaking of me.

He relented, and I glared down my body at him, then instantly softened my gaze as I watched him pick up the can of whip cream, shake it again, and prepare to anoint me with its contents.

The first touch of the cold topping upon my clitoris made me shudder, then made me groan softly. Seconds later, the cold was replaced by warmth as the all-too-familiar lips closed around the dollop of white and the gentle tongue drew the cold substance away from my feminine body. The resultant sucking was the icing on the sensation, adding another layer of delight to the experience.

"My baby sister is rather tasty," he quipped, looking directly up my body at my face. I tried to imagine what he was seeing, with my face essentially "framed" by my breasts due to his position between my thighs.

"There's more of me, you know," I replied softly.

Throughout the third quarter, I was essentially a Baby Sister Sundae. Whip cream would be added to my body, usually to my breasts, then slowly licked away. After a quick trip to the kitchen, my big brother and Master returned with an unopened bottle of ice cream topping, and my body was soon a chocolaty mess, yet neither of us minded at all, so long as we were careful enough to not allow the topping or the whip cream to trickle onto the table or - even worse - onto the floor.

As he finished watching the game, I showered alone, my body still "remembering" the cold of the whip cream and the warmth of his tongue. As I washed the last of my Master's dessert from my skin, I smiled, promising myself that I would do this for him again sometime soon.

...perhaps when Regina next came over to play.


"Are you sure you don't want to join me?" I asked as my big brother and Master massaged my bare back.

"I'm sure," he replied. "You know I don't care much for large crowds, the day-after-Thanksgiving crowds especially."


Daylight had not yet graced the sky, yet he was willing to awaken with me, spend a little time massaging lotion into my skin, and send me off to spend unknown sums of money. In fact, while I showered, he even made French toast and coffee so that I would not need to stop my spending to find something to eat.

It was with a full belly and a big smile that I started the truck and drove toward the nearest mall as the first rays of daylight whispered across the far eastern horizon.

Certainly, was looking for gifts for the holidays, but primarily, I was shopping for something to use as a nice surprise for my big brother, my Master, my lover.

I found what I was looking for, and part of the surprise was not found at the mall.

I presented it to him that night after dinner. As he was watching the news, I entered the living room, wearing only the waist chain, and knelt before him, the packages across my upturned palms.

He smiled, using the remote to turn off the news and leaning forward to retrieve the packages from my hands.

To his credit, my Master engaged in long, fulfilling foreplay with me even before we made it to his bedroom. He had me so wet, so desperate, that I was pleading, begging for him to finally undress and simply fuck me, not even caring about the packages he had yet to open. He had to pin me down to keep me from trying to rip off his clothes, and even the familiarity of my deeply-felt submission to him and him alone was not enough to calm me enough to wait for when he was ready to finally take me.

Finally having had enough, he slapped me - hard - across the face. He had never done that to me before in any role, and the sudden act stunned me long enough to humble me, to remind me of my place in our illicit relationship. As the shock consumed me, then and only then did he finally open the first package, a pair of thickly-padded cuffs with lengthy tethers, and ultimately secure me to the posts of his bed's headboard.

The foreplay resumed, yet the shock of the slap remained with me even as my body moved against his hands and against his mouth. He played my body exquisitely, like a cherished ancient violin, producing such beautiful sounds from me that they pulled even at my own heart as I pulled against the secure bonds.

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