Taboo The Collection (5 page)

Then I saw him glance over at me. He saw me watching him.

“Catch anything?” I called.

He just waved and went back to fishing.

What did he see last night?
I wondered.

It made me remember the time I’d walked in on him when we were younger. He’d found one of Dad’s porno mags and was wanking away in the bathroom, the thing unfurled onto the counter, his nose almost touching the pink of the girl’s spread-open pussy. When I opened the door and he stood, dick still in hand, it was the first time I’d seen a real erect cock. It looked huge to me, all shiny and covered in oil—there had been a bottle of baby oil on the counter.

Just the smell of the stuff, and the smooth feel of it on my skin, made me remember.

“Fuck!” he’d cried, reaching for the door and closing it again. “Knock, would you?”

“Maybe you should try locking it!” I’d called back, disgusted—but I had to admit, I was curious too. His room was next to mine for years, and sometimes I heard the distinct sound of him masturbating. The oil wasn’t just a bathroom thing, because I could hear the slick sound of his hand moving up and down, the muffled cries of his climax.

I couldn’t deny it had turned me on. I knew it wasn’t supposed to—I should have been disgusted, horrified, sickened. But I wasn’t. Watching Sam, hearing him come, had made me curious. The first time I’d ever orgasmed, I’d been listening to Sam jerk off in his room.

“You know how to gut a fish?”

I lifted my sunglasses as Sam dropped a bucket into the sand next to me.

“You caught something!” I sat up to peer in at a stillgaping salmon, its staring eye not yet filmy. “Ugh! You want me to clean it?”

Sam was stripping off his waders and I couldn’t help watching. “You should do something to contribute besides lying around half naked.”

I raised my eyebrows at him as he left his pole and rod and reel in the sand, heading down the shoreline in just his jeans and tennis shoes.

“Where are you going?” I called.

“Downstream. I need to wash off.” The water here was far too shallow to really bathe in. “Clean the damned fish!”

I watched him until he disappeared around a bend, where I couldn’t see any more through a cluster of trees. I turned my attention to the fish—fresh caught salmon was going to be so yummy!—but I didn’t feel like getting my hands dirty.

Instead, I followed Sam. I needed to wash off, too, considering how covered I was in oil. That’s what I told myself as I rounded the bend to find my brother naked in the water, his hand wrapped around his hard cock, fist pumping furiously. His eyes were closed tight, so he didn’t see me stop short and slide behind one of the trees so I could continue to watch him. We hadn’t seen any other campers, but I wondered at his boldness. What if a boat came by and someone saw? He must have been desperate, I realized, biting my own lip as I watched Sam bite his, my own hips thrusting forward against the biting bark of the tree in time with his own.

“Oh fuck!” I heard him cry, pumping faster, his balls slapping the water with each tug of his cock. “Yeah! Yeahhhh!”

I moaned softly, leaning my cheek against the rough bark, knowing I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself, my fingers finding their own way into my bikini bottoms. My pussy was wet with my juices, but the baby oil I’d used on my thighs made it even slicker and I sighed with pleasure, rubbing the stuff into my little clit as I watched my brother jerk off.

Cecilia Marie Roberts
, you march right back to camp this instant and clean that fish!

Fuck that,
I argued with the voice in my head, my fingers rubbing furiously, my nipples hard and poking out against the tree. I was practically fucking the thing, wishing for something hard to rub against, or better yet, put inside me.

Like Sam’s cock.

The thought shocked me into orgasm and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I didn’t want Sam to hear me as my body shook and trembled, my knees giving out as I sank to the sandy ground. Sam didn’t have those inhibitions though—he was far enough from camp to believe I couldn’t hear him. He groaned and pumped and thrust into his own fist, crying out, “Ohhh fuck, your pussy is so good! Ahhh! Ahhh I’m gonna come in your fucking cunt! Ohhhh Sissy! Sissyyyyyy!”

I yelped like a wounded puppy or a surprised kitten, my fingers still caught under the waistband of my bikini, still working my clit, and fuck if I didn’t come again, right there on the ground as my brother called my name, imagining himself fucking me. Oh god, yes, the thought of his hard dick pummeling my flesh, feeling him explode inside of me, that was more than enough to send me over the edge one more time.

He was thinking about me.

The realization made me shake all over as I watched him recover from his orgasm, his head down, his cock going slowly limp in his hand. And then I crept away, practically running back down the beach, deciding immediately to be a good girl and clean the fish, like I was supposed to be doing all along.

By the time Sam came whistling back around the corner, smiling and waving to me, the salmon was ready to be cooked. It was hard to look into his eyes, so I didn’t, telling him I wanted to go down and wash up too.

“But I’m hungry!” he protested.

“I’m all sticky and hot and full of oil,” I reminded him, but he didn’t need a reminder. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, the way he looked at me in my red and white polka dot bikini. He was hungry all right, but I wasn’t sure it was for food.

“I’ll make dinner then,” he grumbled as I headed down the beach.

I didn’t touch myself, like Sam had, although I couldn’t help thinking about it. Instead, I washed the oil from my skin and hair with ecologically-sound soap, shaking myself off and putting on a t-shirt and a pair of silky shorts. By the time I got back to where we were camped, Sam had cooked the salmon but four ears of corn we’d brought along from the cabin.

“That smells divine!” I sat beside him, taking the plate he offered. We ate with our fingers, the fish fresh and flaky, absolutely perfect. We ate our corn noisily, no butter or salt, laughing at the errant kernels that ended up on our faces or even more bellies.

I did my girl-duty and cleaned up while Sam relaxed on the beach, an arm thrown over his eyes. The sun was setting over the water on our second—and last—day of our weekend. Tomorrow was Sunday, and we’d be heading back home. We both had reasons to be back. Sam had work at our local hardware store Monday afternoon, and I had a dentist appointment.

My brother woke as I sat down beside him on the blanket. We were quiet as we watched the stars come out one by one, the moon a mere sliver as it rose slowly until it was high overhead. We didn’t talk, we just sat, comfortable in the silence, until I started to shiver. The breeze off the lake was growing cool.

“Cold?” Sam slid closer, putting an arm around me.

I leaned my head against his shoulder, taking comfort in his warmth. “I’m glad we came.”

“Me too.” He took a deep, slow breath, gathering the blanket up so he could wrap that around us both. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I know.” We’d been home together all summer break, but it was August and soon it would be time to go back to school again. It was funny, but I thought I might miss Sam more than I was going to miss Jake. None of us went to the same college, although Jake kept talking about transferring to State, and long-distance relationships weren’t easy.

“Hey, look.” Sam pointed over the lake and I gasped, seeing a faint haze of multi-colored lights swirling in the sky.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Sam nodded. “Northern lights.”

“Beautiful,” I breathed

“Yes.” I felt his lips brush my temple and I shivered.

“Still cold?”

“A little,” I lied. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Okay.” He sounded a little disappointed, but I couldn’t trust myself, so close to him like this. It was far too dangerous. “I’ll wait and put out the fire.”

I stood, heading for our tent, calling over my shoulder. “G’night, Sam.”

“G’night, Sissy,” he said softly as I unzipped the tent and climbed in.

I took off my shorts and crawled into my sleeping bag, sure I wasn’t going to be able to sleep right away, if at all, but I was wrong.

* * * *

I wasn’t sure what woke me. I was disoriented, unsure where I was, until I heard the sound of the waves against the shore. It was still full-dark, very late—or very early. Behind me, Sam was asleep, breathing deeply. Then I felt what had woken me as my brother groaned and shifted again—I felt his erection against my lower back and gasped, the heat of it incredible, even through his boxers.

“Sam?” I whispered, feeling the roll of his hips forward, wedging his cock against the crack of my ass. I was wearing a t-shirt and panties, but things had gotten all twisted while we slept, and my sleeping bag was somewhere down near my ankles.

“Mmm no more,” he mumbled. “There are plain ones on the counter.”

I blinked in the darkness, trying to decipher this code. The feel of his cock against my ass made me ache. I try to wiggle away, but his hand was on my hip and I couldn’t escape. Was he asleep or awake?

“I want one,” he whispered, close to my ear. “Gimme.”

“Sam, are you sleeping?”

He moaned softly and his hips began to move, the shaft of his erection rubbing slowly, bunching my panties up between my ass cheeks. I felt the grip of his fingers on my hip, my ass, heard his breath coming faster. Was he really still sleeping? I glanced over my shoulder to see, but it was too dark to tell if his eyes were open or closed.

“Sam?” I whispered again, a little louder. Maybe I could wake him up?
Should
I wake him up? Wasn’t waking up sleepwalking people dangerous or something? I remembered when we were kids, he used to sleepwalk all the time. My parents would find him in the kitchen or trying to get out the back door. They used to just guide him back to bed, and he never remembered anything in the morning.

“Mmmmm.” Sam moaned again and this time the thrust of his hips was more violent. Oh my god, his cock was free! How had that happened? I whimpered, feeling the hard press of him against my ass, the head slick against my lower back, sliding easily. It would just take a little maneuvering, nudging my panties aside, a shift of my hips, and he could be inside me.

He’s your brother!

I gasped as Sam moved, his hips adjusting, his cock too, oh god, now he
was
pressed between my thighs, his shaft rubbing between them. My pussy felt fat and hot. I whimpered again, trying once more to wiggle away, but it only forced him further between my legs, his cock wedging my panties deep between my swollen pussy lips.

“Sam,” I moaned as he began to thrust in his sleep, driving my panties through my slick slit, the head of his cock rubbing against my clit. I spread my legs more for him. I couldn’t help it. Oh that was good. So fucking good.

This isn’t happening.
That’s what I told myself as I arched back against him.
I’m dreaming.

I found my hand between my own legs, pulling my sticky-wet panties aside so I could feel the head of his dick rubbing against my clit. But I wanted more. Oh god, what was wrong with me?

“Sam?” I asked, louder this time. He didn’t answer me. Instead, he groaned and grunted and thrust. He was sleeping, I was sure of it. He wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.

I pressed his cockhead against my clit with my fingers, rubbing it there, moaning and arching back. My pussy lips wrapped themselves around his shaft, almost like we were fucking, but it still wasn’t enough. I took him in my hand, marveling at the heat and thrust of him. So big!

I wanted it. I wanted him.

I aimed carefully, timing it to match his mindless thrusting, and found myself impaled with the next forward movement of his hips, both of us moaning in pleasure, Sam in his sleep, me fully aware of the wicked, horrible thing I’d just done.

But it felt so fucking
good!

“Oh god,” I cried, trying not to move, trying not to rock back, imagining his horrified reaction if he woke up and realized he was fucking his sister!

But he was already imagining it out by the lake.

Had he really been fantasizing about fucking me while he jerked off? He’d called my name as he came, I remembered, flushing with the memory of how hard I’d climaxed just watching him.

“Ahhhh! Ahhhh!” He was thrusting hard and deep and fast. I was going to have to work to keep up, I realized, my fingers slippery wet, finding my clit and rubbing furiously. Oh but it wasn’t going to take long, I could tell. My pussy was already beginning to spasm around his shaft. I could feel how deep he was inside, the head of him buried in me.

“Oh no! Oh god!” I cried out, nearly sobbing with the reality of what we were doing, but I still couldn’t help myself. It felt too good, too right, my pussy aching for release. And it was coming. I was going to climax around my brother’s cock.

Sam’s fingers dug deep into my hips as he thrust again, his breath hot against my neck, and I buried my face in my pillow to keep him from hearing my scream as he drove me to my own orgasm, my pussy clamping down around his shaft, snapping shut again and again on his length. I felt each pulse of his dick, felt his cum, not inside of me but seeping out, as if he’d come so much I couldn’t contain it all.