TABOO TALES(erotica)

“Every night. I think of what we did on holiday and I can’t believe that we were that naughty.” She glanced at me. “Is it terribly wrong, what we did?”

I shook my head in denial. “Have I hurt you at all?”

“No, of course not.”

“Have we hurt anyone else?”

“Not that we know of.”

“Then how can it be wrong? I’ve never felt this way about anyone, Chelsea. I lie in my bed every night and I ache for you -”

She giggled, “I lie in bed every night and I cum for you.”

Her words invoked a sudden image – Chelsea in her bedroom, her fingers at her cunt, her muscles tensing as she spiraled up towards her orgasm… and her brain filled with the vision of me pumping into her. Perhaps she had been doing it at the very same time that I had, both of us busy, only a dozen yards and a hundred miles apart… each aching for the other, fucking by proxy.

She was looking at me, her gaze open and steady. I squeezed her hand. “Me too, Chelsea,” I said, “and in… eighty four minutes we can do it again.”

*****

We arrived just after dark, negotiating the long, tree-lined driveway and then round a final bend to the covered area outside Reception. I killed the engine and turned to her.

“What name did you book us under?”

She smiled. “Rogers – that’s who we are.”

“Right.”

“Can we eat first, Ben? I’m pretty hungry and the anticipation is always better if you prolong it.”

“Sure. I’ve been waiting for weeks so a bit more won’t kill me. You’ll only get New Zealand foreplay, though.”

She looked mystified. “New Zealand foreplay? What’s that?”

“I tell you to brace yourself.”

She laughed. “This whole drive has been foreplay. You’ll hear me squish when I get out of the car.”

We checked in, showered and were in the restaurant within half an hour. It was lovely: secluded tables next to the garden, set with crisp white tablecloths and lit by candles. I poured two glasses of wine and I held her hand as we sipped it. There were other couples around, but they were like us – lost in themselves.

“You look beautiful tonight, Chelsea.”

She smiled shyly. “Get on with you! I look the same as I did half an hour ago.”

“No you don’t.” It was true. She had brushed her hair until it gleamed, and she had changed into a simple white dress that accentuated the glossy sheen of her skin and the fine bone structure of her shoulders. I could see the unfettered press of her breasts against it, the hint of shadow where her nipples darkened the fabric, and the gold necklace accentuated the graceful sweep of her neck. My heart twisted in my chest – she was so perfect, so beautiful, and she was mine.

“I love you.”

She reached over and took my arm, squeezing it in response. “I do too.” Her eyes were soft, glinting in the candlelight. “We are very lucky, aren’t we?”

“I guess.”

She shook my arm slightly. “No, we are. We’re young, healthy and we have each other.”Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Only sometimes. I want you all the time.”

“Isn’t sometimes enough?” She looked around. “This is lovely, Ben. Going away like this gives us real time together – a beautiful restaurant, and a big bed only a few minutes away – and two days of pleasure which will be so much better because we’ve had to wait for it. That’s better than a humdrum life of routine, isn’t it?”

“We still have to sneak around. I thought you said that you didn’t want that.”

“I did – but it actually adds spice to it, don’t you think? You know, the whole thing about making plans together, packing in secret, the rendezvous at work.” She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “The girls at work saw my suitcase and kept asking what I was up to and they were intrigued by my secrecy. I guess they thought I was sneaking off with some guy – maybe a married man. Can you imagine what they would think if they knew it was my brother?”

“They’d probably think it was purely platonic – you know, brother and sister going off to study earthworms or catch butterflies or something.”

“And instead we’ll be…. well, you know.”

“What?”

She shook her head a little, suddenly embarrassed. “You know -”

I persisted with my teasing. “Digging? Driving?”

She looked around to see if anyone was listening, and leaned forward conspiratorially, her lips forming the word. “… we’ll be fucking.”

I smiled at her. She was right – this way did add spice to the whole affair. I looked around at the shadowy figures sitting at other tables and wondered how many of them were here under similar circumstances – married men with their secretaries, wives with their lovers, perhaps even fathers and daughters or brothers and sisters, like us. And they were all here for one purpose only – to have an illicit liaison – or, to put it in Chelsea’s words, to fuck each other. I imagined what would be happening in the rooms around us tonight and I thought we were in good company.

We finished our meal and had coffee and liqueur in the lounge, excited by what was about to happen but also a little frightened. Last time we had made love it had been a spontaneous event, the result of holiday madness, and there was still the chance to walk away from that. This time it would be premeditated – we were here because we had deliberately planned it. We had plotted together and lied together, and would be utterly complicit in our guilt. Once we went to bed there was absolutely no going back, and the weight of that knowledge subdued us both so that we spoke little, content just to touch and look at each other.

The bed linen had been folded back and the wood fire was crackling in the grate so that the cabin was intimate and inviting, painted in the flickering light of the flames. I took Chelsea in my arms, holding her, smelling the clean fresh scent of her hair and feeling the warm plasticity of her curves pressed against me.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I whispered.

“God, yes, Ben. More than anything.”

We undressed each other slowly, sliding each article of clothing off, delighting in the silken warmth of the other’s skin and the little goosebumps of their excitement, hearing their sighs of anticipation, watching the erectile swell of their flesh. I pressed my lips to hers, tasting the sweetness of the liqueur she had drunk and the intoxicating flavour of her mouth, holding her tight little buttocks, one in each hand, pulling her against me with the thick rod of my cock between us, pressed against her belly.

At length she broke free and she took my hand and led me to the bed, climbing onto it, lying on her back, knees bent and her legs open so that she was fully exposed to me, and she smiled. “Eat me, Ben,” she said softly, “I promised myself that you’d do that, and then you can do anything that you want to me.”

She had shaved her pussy so that her mound was smooth, her labia a little more prominent than I remembered. They were swollen with excitement and slightly open, glistening with her moisture in the flickering light so her pussy looked like an exotic flower, the petals folded back and the warm wet centre ready to be harvested. I pressed my mouth to her, feeling her labia compress a little under my lips, soft and wet and fragrant, and she groaned and thrust her hips upwards, her hands holding my head and guiding me, her words soft in the silence of the room. “Ah… God, that’s good. So good. Don’t stop, Ben. Eat me up.”

My tongue was inside her again, tasting the sharp essence of her arousal as it leaked from her, feeling the oily wetness of her juices over my mouth and chin. She gyrated her hips, pressing herself up against me, forcing my head down with her hands, my face mashed against her. Suddenly she came, her first fast orgasm – a sudden rush of pleasure, hips straining upwards, thighs quivering. I heard the long, agonized groan of her ecstasy and tasted the spurt of juices that were ejected from her cunt into my mouth, tart and wholesome, and I felt her hands fluttering in my hair as she was swept away on a wave of pleasure.

I flipped her over, bringing her to her knees, pushing her head down and lifting her torso so that she was kneeling on the edge of the bed, her ass projected upwards and her legs slightly open. This was my favourite position and I savored the view for a moment, knowing that I would soon be sawing into her slim golden body. Her buttocks were tight and the gap between them was accentuated, her cunt projected outwards and the lips wet and open so that I could see the pink flesh of her insides. The tight, crinkled portal of her anus nestled above it, shrouded in shadow, another entrance to her body open to me, and my cock hardened even more at the thought of choosing which I would spurt into.

The head of my cock looked huge, swollen and purple, glistening with the pre-cum that I had leaked. I rested it against her pussy, watching with hooded eyes as the tip engaged, twitching at the touch of her labia. I pushed forward slowly and the head entered, her lips sliding aside, the ring of her vulva resisting briefly before surrendering and closing over the thickness of the glans. I paused, feeling the clutch of her cunt as she squeezed around me. I could imagine her vulva locked around the rim of my cock, gripping it like a hose clamp, imprisoning the head inside her while the shaft remained outside. She groaned at the intrusion, her hands grasping the sheet, and she pushed back with her hips to accelerate the penetration.

In the long mirror on the wardrobe I could see it all: my sister kneeling on the bed, her breasts pressed against the mattress and her hair spilling over the sheet, her body angled up, legs splayed in an attitude of complete surrender. I stood behind her, my thick member spearing into her, slanting down to penetrate her body through her clutching, grasping vulva and into the pelvic cavity of her body. My cock looked massively swollen, almost grotesque against her slim flesh, sliding into her, splitting her open so that she moaned and wriggled around me.

At last it was fully inside and I paused to savor the moment. This was my sister, my own flesh and blood, and I was fucking her in a hotel bedroom. It was her cunt that was gripping me, welcoming me into her body, oozing juices that bubbled around my shaft. It was her moans and sighs of pleasure that I could hear, the soft whimpers of contentment as she felt me inside, stretching her open. She reached back and held open her buttocks, her fingers slim against the firm flesh, and I pressed forward more, the last few millimetres of my cock entering her.

Her voice was breathless and gusty. “Jesus, Ben! God, that’s good…. hold it there…. let me feel it right up inside.”

I held still, visualizing the long shaft embedded inside her, the walls of her cunt clutching at it and the head buried deep, close to the cone of her cervix.

“Now, come out, slowly…. slowly.”

I withdrew and my shaft appeared, shining with her juices, her vulva clutching like a mouth, a ring of flesh stretched around me. It was struggling to hold me inside her, gripping the shaft as I slid out, sliding over the rim and grasping at the bulbous purple flesh of the glans until I bobbed free. A few drops of moisture dribbled out, splattering over the bedspread.

With a cry of lust I dropped to my knees and thrust my face against her, plunging my tongue into her, lapping at the juices, gathering them on my tongue, sucking the lips into my mouth. My nose was pressed against her anus and the soft perfumed flesh of her buttocks rubbed against my cheeks. I lapped at her like a dog, rasping my tongue over her labia, long strokes now – the tip teasing her clitoris, then furrowing over her cunt, flicking over the tightness of her perineum and delving into the valley of her ass. Her body jerked and twitched, and I could feel the tips of her fingers against my face as she prised herself open to allow me deeper access. I flickered my tongue over her anus, feeling the crinkled texture of the opening, twitching and pulsating under my tongue until, like the tip of an arrow, I penetrated her there, the sphincter opening like a little mouth to draw me in.