Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 (I am the Walrus): New Story, a pair of grieving siblings look to each
other for solace...and find much more (Cons, MF, Rom, Slow, Inc, Erotic,
Roleplay, Cum Swallowing)

   This Story is fiction, any resemblance to persons living or dead is
entirely coincidental.

   Whereas I have taken certain liberties with the English language, please
excuse any glaring spelling/grammatical errors found herein.

   This is my first story: Constructive feedback is welcome, abuse is not.

   In Memories We Find the Future Part 2 Chapter Three: It's a New Dawn,
It's a New Day...

   The first thing I noticed was the birds.

   I half-opened my eyes, the room was suffused with a dull greyish light.
I noticed that I was covered in a sheet; next to me, almost covered with
the same sheet, was a forehead crowned with strands of wispy hair.  "I was
right" I thought "That was birdsong, it must be morning".  But morning
belonged to the real world, and I didn't want to deal with the real world
at that moment, so I closed my eyes.  I opened my eyes.  The light had
changed from grey to pale gold.  Jess was looking at me.  For an eternity
we just looked at each other; there was an impossible-to-read expression on
her face.  The only sound was our laboured breathing, the only movement the
rise and fall of the sheet.  She spoke:

   "Robbie.  I need to go to the bathroom"

   THEN I woke up.  As soon as she said it I was instantly aware that I too
had an urgent pressure in my bladder.  At the same time my synapses flared
into life and all my nerve endings started screaming abuse at me.  "Me too"
I croaked.

   With great difficulty we slowly began to extricate ourselves from each
other ("I think that's my arm- don't think that's my leg- those are
probably not my boobs").  I gently rolled over and eased myself off the
edge of the bed; Jess did the same on the other side.  As I stood up I
heard a gasp.  I turned.  Jess' eyes were as wide as black holes and her
hand covered her mouth, but that wasn't what alarmed me.  My eyes swam with
tears when I saw her.  Every inch - and I mean every inch - of her body was
a wreck.  My sister, my beautiful,
more-precious-than-anything-in-the-universe little baby sister was covered,
head to toe, with scratches, barely healed cuts, bruises, bite marks and
dried blood.  I'd done that.

   "Oh my God Jess.  You...you're hurt"

   "Robbie" she whispered from behind her hand "Look in the mirror".  With
wide eyes I turned to look in the floor-length mirror on the other side of
the room.

   Oh Fuck!

   Jess was bad, I was worse.  As well as set of wounds that matched my
sister's, a long gash ran from my right hip to just below my left nipple,
at some point it had obviously bled profusely, and dried rivulets of blood
ran from my chest and down my stomach; blood had matted my pubic hair,
covered my genitals and coated the top of my thighs.  I looked back at Jess
and tried to force a smile: "Oops" I said.

   We both made an attempt to laugh before we cringed and realised that
laughing was no laughing matter.  "Ow...Robbie, I need to pee really
badly".

   "Yeah, me too; you go in here (my sisters' bedroom had en-suite) and
I'll use the main bathroom".  We hobbled to our respective porcelain
receptacles.  In the main bathroom I heaved a huge sigh of relief as I
drained my bladder.  My relief was short lived however, for as the pressure
receded all the other hurts over my body were amplified.  I winced, then
looked to my left and saw something wonderful.  The big, deep hot
tub/casting couch that had cost my sister her marriage was only a few feet
away.  I didn't even think; I opened the taps and tottered back to Jess'
bedroom.  I knocked on her bathroom door.  "Jess..."

   Pause "...Yes?"

   "Are you done?"

   Another pause "...Yes"

   "Can you open the door please?"

   A few laboured footsteps and the door opened, the expression on her face
betrayed the agonies her body was experiencing, I took her hand: "Jess,
let's get in the bath, rather quickly".  Her eyes rolled in pained relief
at those words, and hand in hand we walked, gingerly, back to the bathroom.

   We slowly got in the tub, ("Ow...Ah...Ooh...Ow") and a few minutes later
the water had turned a murky light brown as all the dried blood (and other
bodily fluids) oozed off us.  We let all the water out and refilled, this
time we allowed ourselves time to soak properly.  As we lay there, eyes
closed, allowing our bodies to relax, Jess suddenly started laughing.

   "What's funny?  " I asked; a bit puzzled.

   "I...  I just thought...we...we've still got all the clearing up to do".

   I understood: We'd just spent several hours indulging in in the most
obscene, forbidden incestuous passions, come close to killing each other
and the thought of just standing up at that moment was a very unpleasant
prospect.  But added to that, the idea that we still had a full day's work
to do was so deeply uninviting that the only rational response was to
despair, so Jess - and seconds later I - chose the irrational response, we
laughed.  Still giggling we began to wash each other (tenderly and very,
very carefully), then we exited the tub and patted each other dry with warm
soft towels.  Sensuous as this was there was no risk of either of us
becoming aroused; we were still too sore, too confused and too exhausted.
Besides, the short, hirsute couple who lived in the apartments downstairs,
having just worked the hardest shifts of their lives, had awarded
themselves a well-deserved vacation and were currently incommunicado.

   Our injuries, we discovered had all looked considerably worse than they
actually were: there were no broken bones, our bruises would heal, our cuts
were relatively superficial and the bite marks?  Well, we decided we
actually kind of liked them.  But, before leaving the bathroom, we applied
a bucket of salve to each other's sore spots and each swallowed a couple of
painkillers, it would get us through the task ahead.  Jess went back to her
room to get dressed; I headed to one of the guest bedrooms to do the same.
A second later I heard Jess exclaim from inside her room "Ohfuckinghell!"

   I turned and went back into her room "What's wro..." I didn't need to
ask.  When we had woken up, our attention had been fully focused on each
other.  We didn't even stop to consider the state of the bed.  Actually, to
call it a bed at that moment would've been inaccurate.  The sheets were
ripped and matted together with dried blood, sweat and cum.  The pillows
were torn and the mattress had chunks of foam poking out of it.  Even the
wallpaper at the head of the bed hadn't survived; a large, jagged tear
exposed the plaster board underneath.  This bed was dead, not just resting;
it was an ex-bed.  Jess looked at me: "Oops" she mimicked.  This time our
laughter was marginally less painful, and much funnier.

   After we'd dressed we stood at the top of the stairs and I asked her "Do
you want upstairs or down?"

   She pondered for a moment: "I'll do up here, you start in the kitchen"
she ordered and off we both went.  Throughout the day we bustled (or
limped) through the task of putting her house back in order.  Our
conversation was sparse and perfunctory; mostly I just winced and followed
orders.  I felt too sore and awkward to argue or engage in any reflection.
It was dusk by the time we'd finished.  All the rooms were clean, and the
previous day's debris had been sorted into 4 piles (Keep - Throw away -
Return to rightful owner - Incinerate).  It came to the time when was I
ready to leave.  I stood by the door, bag by my feet; Jess was standing in
front of me.  We weren't quite sure what to say.  "OK" I attempted "I
suppose I'll be making tracks then".

   "I suppose"

   "I'll see you soon" "Yeah; see you".

   I turned towards the door: "Robbie?"

   I stopped and turned back "Yes?"

   "Will...will you come back next weekend?" part request, part command,
part plea.

   "Yeah...If you like"

   "Yes...  yes please" she was standing closer to me now, I could hear her
breathing, it matched my own.  She reached out and grazed my hand with her
fingers.
"OK: bye then".
"Bye" she leaned up to give me a kiss.  Our lips pressed softly against
each other, just for a few seconds.  Then she whispered "I love you

Robbie".

   I whispered back "I love you Jess".

   And there it was; our own little private catharsis.  Until that point
neither of us had realised just how badly we needed to hear those words. 
My soreness immediately receded into the distant background, I felt a
million pounds of pressure leap from my shoulders and my face broke in to a
huge, irrepressible grin.  I could tell Jess felt the same, the smile that
spread across her face lit up the house, the neighbourhood, the world. 
Still beaming, I picked up my bag and walked out the door "I'll see you
Friday" I called back.  "Great.  See you" she called after me, still with
that smile in place.  I got in the car and drove home.

   The following week was nearly impossible.  Time crawled by at a snail's
pace and I was almost permanently preoccupied at work.  Fortunately, my
employers (I'm in the greetings cards business and I'm very good at my job)
and most of my colleagues were kind and understanding ("Give the poor guy a
break; he's just buried his mum").  I let them believe that grief was the
reason for my distraction.  The truth, of course, was that there was really
only one thing, one person, on my mind.  A couple of times I contemplated
calling Jess, just to hear her voice, but I resisted.  There were a million
things I wanted to say to her, but with all that had happened after Mum's
funeral it still felt...peculiar.  Numerous times though, in private
moments, I closed my eyes and let my mind revel in the thought of her, of
her body, of that kiss, of that smile and I would find myself sporting an
erection that a horse would have been proud of.

   Friday afternoon eventually arrived; I bolted out of the office, barged
my way onto the train home, threw my overnight bag into the car and hit the
highway.  When I arrived at Jess' house for some reason I rang the
doorbell. She opened the door with a puzzled frown on her face.  As I went
to step over the threshold she pushed me back.  "You've got a key" she
reminded me.

   "Oh.  Yeah...well..." She shut the door in my face.

   I stood there stunned for a moment.  Until I heard Jess' voice through
the letter box: "Key Moron", the commander was on the base.  I reached into
my pocket, grabbed the key, turned it in the lock and entered.  This time
her smile was back in place, she had a lustful, slightly glazed look in her
eyes and she had begun unbuttoning her blouse; "Welcome back" she said
breathlessly.  I dropped my bag, welcomed Jess into my arms and our lips
met.  It was the kiss we'd started nearly a week before, but this time we
allowed ourselves to enjoy it; I closed my mouth over hers and let her soft
lips squish against mine, she ran her tongue around the inside of my mouth
and teasingly flicked my own tongue as I attempted to do the same.  Our
fingers rambled through each other's hair; we diligently explored each
other with our lips, teeth and tongues and we gleefully rejoiced in each
other's excited breath and our wetness.  She pulled away; then, leaning up
to place her mouth to my ear she stammered "Take...take your clothes off
Robbie".  Ever the loyal subject, I obeyed.  She rapidly stripped in front
of me and we stood, naked, just inside her front door.  We took the time to
enjoy the sight of each other.

   Jess was a truly stunning woman; long, shapely legs, full, rounded hips
which framed the delicious, pouting, moist grotto at the top of her thighs.
Her midriff was curved, toned, and held just enough flesh to make it look
comfy.  She had a stupendous pair of natural breasts (40dd - a gift from
Mum), that were crowned with a pair of stiff, rosy-red nipples (I was
salivating looking at them) and she had not yet been mugged by gravity.  It
was all topped off with cascades of shoulder length, dark brown hair,
smouldering brown eyes, and a wanton, wet-lipped smile.  My cock stood in
glorious salute to the beauty before me.  For her part, Jess gave me the
appraising once over, saw the effect her naked body had on me (eight inches
and counting and already dripping) and licked her lips in approval.  She
took a small step towards me, she allowed the tip of my cock to nudge her
belly, and then, grasping it, she used it to draw a small line of pre-cum
down her crotch, across her clit and to her pussy lips.  "I want you so
badly Robbie" she hissed.  Then, still grasping my cock, she led us,
quickly, up to her bedroom.

   When we entered her room I experienced a moment of mild surprise: it was
all new; new bed, new sheets, new mattress, and even new wallpaper.  But my
surprise was quickly forgotten as Jess lay down, spread her legs and pulled
me down on top of her.

   It was as different as could be from the previous week's abuses: she
sighed out in blessed relief as I entered her, our lips came together again
and we began our lover's dance in earnest.  I held her tight to me as I
plunged deep into her, covering her mouth with my own.  We began to explore
every inch, every fibre of each other; we were curious, hungry and
trembling with excitement.  This was so much better; her moist, velveteen
pussy squeezed my cock as it pulsated and expanded inside of her.  There
was no wild thrashing about this time, just the easy, grinding rhythm of
our bodies as we each sought to give and receive the maximum amount of
pleasure.  Her body trembled and undulated under my thrusts and caresses,
and we would occasionally stop moving, my cock buried to the hilt inside
her, and we'd gaze into each other's eyes as she would squeeze me with her
cunt, and I'd allow my prick to throb inside of her before resuming my
thrusts.  We'd breathe soft, sexy, loving words into each other's mouths,
playfully nip at each other's tongues and stroke each other's bodies as we
revelled in the sensation of our joining.

   We only needed two positions this time; me on top or Jess on top, this
way we could watch each other's eyes roll back and glaze over as we rode
the waves of our orgasms.  The only thing that echoed our previous
encounter was that I was able to stay hard and keep going after I had
filled her with streams of my cum.  I had never before been with a woman
who had that ability, that power to keep me ready and hungry for so many
repeat performances.  I pumped an obscene amount of cum into her that
night, and yet each time I remained erect and eager to continue.

   Jess was a very talented, expressive and sensuous lover - not to mention
a prodigious squirter - and her hands and lips ran all over my body in an
effort to wring every ounce of joy from me.  Her lips wandered all my
sensitive spots, all my erogenous zones - even the ones I didn't know
existed; she licked under my chin and across my neck, she placed tiny
butterfly kisses all around my nipples, she used her tongue to tickle the
joints of my arms and she'd gently suck tips of my fingers.  While she was
riding me, my own hands and lips wondered all over her body.  I enveloped
her mouth with mine, thrust my tongue inside and licked all around whilst
sucking her own tongue into my mouth.  I kissed her all over her face, her
nose, forehead, eyelids and cheeks.  I'd kiss one ear then kiss all across
her neck to the other ear.  I brought her magnificent tits to my mouth and
nibbled on her glorious, pouting nipples.  I'd put both nipples in my mouth
at once and suck hard, then run my tongue all around them, then down to the
underside of her tits, then over the top, then back again.  My fingers
caressed her waist and her hips and I sent my hands over to caress and
squeeze her butt cheeks as my fingertips gently rubbed circles around her
puckered hole.  Then I brought my hands forward and my thumbs rubbed in
circles around her belly button and then ran down to trace random patterns
across her clit.  She wailed out her pleasure as my thumbs pressed and
kneaded her tiny love button and as my cock plunged in and out of her
sopping slit.  At several points she rose off me, opened her pussy lips as
wide as they would go, screamed like a banshee and let loose torrents of
cunt cream up and down the length of my body.  She would then sink down
again, slowly impaling herself on my rigid pole and we'd begin the dance
again.(

   Over several hours we learned the deepest secrets of each other's
bodies, what each of us liked and loved and which things made us flinch,
groan and howl out our ecstasies.  We engaged in a plethora of exquisite,
tender, caresses and wrung from each other more pleasure than we'd ever
thought possible.  It was sex as it should be; between two people who loved
each other more than we could have ever described and our only thoughts
were for each other's happiness.  Our love for each other was total,
absolute, perfect.  They say you can have too much of a good thing; and
wonderful as our lovemaking was, it had to stop at some point.  The sun was
not yet visible, but it was announcing its impending arrival, there was a
milky sheen spreading across the sky.  I lay on my back, Jess was on top of
me, still straddling me and my (finally) softening cock was still poking
just inside the entrance to her cunt.  My arms were wrapped around her and
were gently working their way up and down her back, my fingers moving in
subtle motions across and around her skin.  The top of her head was under
my chin, our breath was soft and we were both wearing very satisfied
smiles.

   "So" I announced "You got this room fixed up pretty quickly".

   "Mmmm" she groggily replied "I offered to have sex with the decorator if
he could get it done this week"

   "Really?"

   "Mmm-hmmm, but when that didn't work I offered him lots of money"

   "Genius!"

   "I thought so".  She lifted her head up to look into my eyes.  She was
visibly exhausted, but her body moved with a languid grace as she crouched
over me.  The expression "The cat that got the cream" came to mind.  She
smiled down at me.

   "I love you Jessica"

   "I love you too Robert"

   With the important declarations made, we shared one final deep kiss and
she folded back on top of me.  With my cock still just inside her we
floated down into well-earned sleep.
Four: It's a New Life

   And thus began the new pattern to my life.

   Sunday evening I'd drive home to my smart, if rather Spartan, bachelor
pad, I'd work through the week, on Friday afternoon I would leave work,
spend three hours on the road heading back to the city of my birth, and
would spend the next 48 hours having the best sex of my life with my little
sister.  Drive home - work - drive back - great sex - repeat.  In order
that we could enjoy our weekends most thoroughly, I got into the habit of
not masturbating on weekdays, and I would take daily cold showers to force
my morning-wood into retreat.  It went on like this for several months; as
late spring turned to full summer and as summer began its annual retreat to
allow the advance of autumn.

   We never spoke of what happened after mum's funeral, neither of us felt
the need or desire to visit those memories.  Neither did we feel the need
to discuss the incestuous nature of our relationship.  What society might
think or what the law may say was irrelevant.  It was what it was: we were
together, our love for each other was unconditional and society could
either accept it or take a running jump.  Once, in a moment of panicked
lucidity, I attempted to raise the question of conception/pregnancy; but
I'd barely gabbled out two syllables before Jess gently covered my mouth
with a soft kiss.  She gave me an enigmatic smile; "Don't worry about it"
she whispered.  Of course, I obeyed and didn't worry about it.

   One thing that became an unwavering constant, a rigidly observed Ritual
that we always had to adhere to: it was an unspoken rule, but every time we
had sex, no matter how outrageous, kinky or exhausting, before we fell
asleep we always said "I love you" to each other.  Those words were the
magical charm that held us together when we were miles apart.  If we
stopped doing that, we knew that the rest of our relationship, our lives,
would fall apart.

   As the weeks went on, we started to engage in a subtle, unspoken and
extremely erotic competition; a game of who could surpass whom in attempts
to arouse and surprise each other.  It wasn't something we needed to do;
for me just being in her arms - the thought of being in her arms - was
enough to get my blood pumping southwards.  It was something we both wanted
to do, for ourselves and each other.

   One week I had barely crossed the threshold of her house and she was
upon me; pushing me up against her front door and covering my mouth with a
wet, passionate kiss before dropping to her knees in front of me and
opening my zip.  Before I had even dropped my case, my cock was at the back
of her throat and she gobbled, sucked and bobbed up and down on my prick
like a wanton, desperate whore.  Her grinning, mischievous eyes never left
my face, and when she saw that I was ready to come she took me all the way
inside her mouth and I bellowed out "AHHH...FUCK...JESS" as my first load
of the weekend shot straight down her oesophagus and into her belly.  She
pulled off and smiled up at me: "Thank you big brother" she said with a
slightly thick giggle in her voice.

   Not to be out-done, the next week I arrived with a little present, which
I forgot to mention to her at first.  I just told her I had a "Surprise"
for her.  We slowly made our way to the bedroom and I kissed and caressed
her body as I stripped her naked.  Then, after laying her down on the bed,
I reached into my bag and pulled out four pairs of newly acquired
handcuffs. Her eyes widened a little as I strapped her ankles and wrists to
the bed frame, but she smiled her trusting smile and let me proceed.  Then,
with Jess spread out like a star-fish, I reached back into my bag and
brought out a box of assorted feathers ("Oh no Robbie, don't you dare").  I
looked down at her and grinned: I dared!  Over several hours I tickled,
caressed, tortured and molested my little sister's helplessly prone naked
body.  Ostensibly this was done for my own pleasure, but I really couldn't
say which of us came more times - or harder - that night.  When I
eventually un-cuffed her she was unable to move and remained, shaking and
whimpering uncontrollably, locked in the star-fish position as her eyes
regained focus and her breathing returned to normal.  The bed, our bodies
and quite a portion of the bedroom floor, were soaked in vast quantities of
her delicious, tangy feminine cum.

   It went on like this all summer: Some weeks she'd buy a sexy new outfit
that'd offer me tantalising views of her body; highlights included a pink
Teddy, a sheer, black, crotch-less body stocking and a deep crimson Basque
with matching garter belt, stockings and suspenders.  Some weeks I'd turn
up with some new "Toys" I'd picked up and wanted to experiment with ("Let's
see what can we fit inside you this week; oh look, this one rotates").  One
week she dressed up as a hooker (red mini skirt/belt, torn tank top which
ended at the top of her ribs and killer stilettoes) and I "Picked her up"
in the street outside her house.  Sitting in the car in her driveway she
administered a messy wet blowjob and swallowed my load as I fingered her
bare pussy, she then "charged" me twenty quid.  I paid.

   One particular weekend she wore a costume that really pushed the
boundary.  Having let myself in one Friday night I called out a "Hello" but
received no answer.  I had a look around downstairs but couldn't find Jess
anywhere and there was no answer when I called.  I looked in the bedroom
and my jaw hit the floor.  She was kneeling on the bed, her was hair in
bunches, her thumb was in her mouth and she was wearing a frilly, white,
knee-length nightie decorated with rainbow coloured ponies.  A scarily
accurate semblance of what she looked like when she was still at infant
school.  She teased me mercilessly with her acting that evening ("Hello
Wobbie are you going to play with me...Wobbie, you're not allowed to touch
me there...Wobbie, my Fifi is getting all wet...Wobbie that's a vewy big
lollipop...can I lick it Wobbie...pleeeease").  I am still sometimes
conflicted about the memory of showering my 5 year old/adult sister s face
with a torrent of cum ("Ohhh look...ice cweam") but Jess likes to remind me
of it every now and then ("Should've seen your face.  You dirty old man").

   One of the most memorable episodes for me took place in a sweltering
mid-July heatwave.  One evening I arrived at Jess' house, I opened the
door, and a vision awaited me.  Jess was sitting naked at the top of the
staircase, her body glistened with sweat and her legs were folded to one
side of her so I could not see her pussy right away.  She gave me a look
that would've melted steel (as if it wasn't hot enough) and commanded me
"STRIP".  As soon as I was naked she opened her legs as wide as she could:
she was completely hairless, the full Brazilian treatment.  As if I wasn't
excited enough already (I was) she then reached down and used her fingers
to pull her cunt lips as far apart as they would go.  I stood there,
leaking pre-cum, drooling and gaping into my sister's moist, pink tunnel
"Have a good look Robbie, look at my smooth, hairless little cunt.  Look
deep inside me Robbie.  You want to lick it don't you?  You want to get
right inside me don't you?  You want me to coat you with my hot cunt juices
don't you?"

   I was totally speechless; I could only gawp and give a nod.  "Well, what
are you waiting for?" she demanded.  I flew up the stairs and dived down
between her legs and I started licking, slurping and nibbling all the way
in and around her delicious newly-bald cunt.  I kissed her shaven mons, I
pulled her tiny love-button between my lips and sucked, I thrust my tongue
as far as possible into her dripping wet hole, I took her outer lips
between my teeth and gave them a few playful nips.  I brought my hand into
play; I inserted my fingers into her and began to propel them in and out, I
moved them around in wide circular motions as I rapidly flicked her clit
with my thumb.  My face became sodden with her juices and at one point I
tried to press my whole face and hand in there at the same time.  She had
fired my hunger in ways I had not though possible.  Even with all the
debauchery we had engaged in over the previous months, the thought that I
was making love to a tiny part of her that was previously untouched sent my
libido into orbit.  As for Jess, she bawled out her ecstasy as she squirted
multiple jets of cum over my face, body and into my waiting, willing mouth.
I love the taste of her cum, and I swallowed and soaked up as much as I
could, but even my greatest efforts couldn't stop the staircase being
soaked in the monsoon that gushed from between her legs.  As I was showered
in her juice, I felt my cock begin its own spasms and I reared up, bellowed
at the top of my lungs and covered her body with a huge torrent of hot
sperm.

   After we'd done with the first round of "Jess Juicing" (private joke),
we looked down at the sodden staircase; "Oops" we said in unison, and we
held each other as we giggled together, steadying each other whilst we
re-gained control of our bodies.  Moments later, when I was sure that she
was sufficiently recovered, I dove back in:
"OHH...FUCK...GOD...FUCK...ROBBIE YOU'RE KILLING
ME...OH...GOD...I'M...GOING TO...CUAAAAHHHHH", and I, and the stairs,
received another high-pressure flood of cum.

   That is the episode that almost stands out as the most surprising and
intensely erotic in a summer that was packed with intense erotic
surprises...Almost.