Forbidden Alchemy Ch. 01

Forbidden Alchemy - part 1

I came into my kitchen from the garage after a long day at work. I'd gathered all my things from my car's passenger seat so as to make one trip, only to throw them in a post-work debris field on my island countertop before stepping off to my bedroom toilet for a piss. I'd been holding it for the last three lights and felt no small relief as I sent a steaming hot urea stream into the toilet bowl.

I was already trying to decide what I'd thaw and toss on the stove or stick in the air fryer. I wasn't in the mood to cook but it wasn't like I was going to manifest dinner. Normie that I am, I had to prepare something, and I was out of leftovers. Oh well, whatever presented itself in my freezer was fine by me.

I finished the last couple of squirts of pee and shook off a few clingy pecker drops before I debated if I wanted to rub one out before dinner. Hmmmm... nah! That could wait until later. I was more hungry than horny at the moment. It had been one of those days with lots of coffee-fueled demands met and nearly missed deadlines, plus a mountain of paperwork. In short it was a normal day.

I tossed my jacket on a chair next to the bed and stepped from my business trousers; donning my PJs. It was always good not having to dress for success when making my dinner after work, alone and single going on two years now. It was okay I guess, not having to please anyone, (having a right hand that understood what I liked didn't hurt either). My breakup with Amanda had been messy and I was just happy no kids had resulted from it all.

So now I was heading back to the kitchen revisiting the debate with myself about what I felt like thawing for a pathetic incel dinner while I beat off to low-grade internet porn. I got halfway down my hallway and realized my kitchen was dark. I'd turned the lights on, right? Oh great, I must have a blown again which meant putting on a coat and going off to fuck with the fuse box.

I grabbed a flashlight by the stove and turned to head out my door. It was cold that night and it was beginning to rain, I didn't want things to take long out at the box but what was I gonna do? No power into the kitchen meant no power to the stove so I figured, better get wet for half a minute and then head back in for some overly processed cuisine with more preservatives than an embalmer's workbench.

I moved across the kitchen gloom to the coat rack. I didn't see it at first but then there was something out of the corner of my eye. I jumped at what I saw.

A figure sat in the shadows at the kitchen breakfast nook, moving slightly. I huffed out all my air in surprise. As fight or flight kicked in, I threw my flashlight at whatever it was in the darkness behind the table. I mean, hindsight being what it is, I suppose I could have used the flashlight like a club but no I just threw it; all while doing the scared-shitless sideways dance step thing.

It didn't matter, anyhow. A feminine hand snatched the flashlight from the air like a catcher protecting home plate and then a set of fingers snapped. The lights came back on and there... sitting before me... was my sister, Lisa - eating my ice cream straight out of the carton.

"Honey!" she said, all dismissive and scolding, "that ANYWAY to greet family?"

"You scared the fucking shit out me!" I came back, "and WHY are you here sitting in the dark?"

"What?" she replied like it was me who was the crazy, "Can't a witch make an entrance with a bit of drama? Knocking is sooooo boring."

She knew what she'd done, and it was just so her. She loves ambushes and surprises... loves scaring the crap out of me. Always has, really.

"Wait," I asked, looking at my door with concern, "is my lock broken?"

"NO SILLY!" she said, rolling eyes, "I've been sitting here the whole time. I got here an hour ago and have been waiting for you. Tried figuring out the lock with my mind but there's too much salt on your stoop. It TOTALLY fucked with my magic, and I couldn't focus, so I thought about that window behind me and POP! came in through the nook. Oh, and hope you don't mind but I helped myself to your ice cream. You're almost out of French vanilla. You walked RIGHT BY me in your hurry to go take a tinkle. Nice stream though by the sound... healthy prostate... you must be masturbating regularly and..."

"Enough of that... not your business! What are you doing here?"

"Boring," she said with another eye roll, "I love talking about your jerk-off habits. It's how you and I first got together and we found out about my powers, remember?"

"YEAH, I remember. So what about..."

"Oh yeah right so honey... I finally had it with him. Left him high and dry, good riddance! He raised his voice with me today one too many times and so I raised mine back. Next thing you know, he's raising a fist, so I start thinkin about him hitting himself. *chuckle* The guy was still smacking himself silly when I was out the front door with my bag right before I tossed the keys inside behind me."

"You left him?"

"It was the only thing to do. Besides, the sex had been mediocre for GODDAM FUCKING AGES and lately the only time he ever touched me was to shove me into something and accuse me of being a this or a that or the other thing!"

"You DID yank the spell afterwards, didn't you? I mean... he's not hitting himself still?"

"Oh wait," she said, suddenly turning that pretty blonde head with shoulder-length hair upwards; focusing like she was dialing in a radio station in her car, "nope, I yanked it. He stopped hitting himself when I started the drive up here. *chuckle* I also blasted him with a FORGET spell, so he won't have a clue who or how he got beat up! For that matter, he never knew about me being a wise woman and now never will. He'll just figure I skipped town with whatever guy did that to his face."

"You drove all the way from Pennsylvania? The roads are absolutely shit with the storm... I mean we got rain here, but you got snow and..."

"Oh, I left my car at a rest stop on the highway just after the state line... Mother Nature was a huge bitch and even I can't drive in that soup, ice, and sleet."

"So, how'd you get up... you took your broom?"

"Didn't take my broom. It stayed in my trunk. I'm not stupid enough to fly in weather I can't drive in."

It was sarcasm in response to my sarcasm. Back then she used the whole 'I took a broom,' thing every now and again as a joke. It was just her pointing out her powers are no big deal and not out of the ordinary; in fact, she maintains she's no different than me and I have no powers; good ole normie me.

"I took a Greyhound. Hitch-hiked over here from the station."

"Nobody hitchhikes anymore. How'd you find a..."

"I found a trucker at the diner next to the bus station and got him to give me a lift. I sucked him off in the back of his cab next to the vacant lot two blocks away, then I walked here. It was easy."

"You paid for a ride by blowing a trucker?"

"No stupid," she corrected, "he was cute, and I was in the mood to choke on trucker penis and gargle some road-head pudding."

I shook my head. It didn't matter if I disapproved. She just kept on with,

"So, what were you going to make me for dinner?"

I'd already turned to my fridge; sorting through frozen boxes like I was looking for a library book and replying,

"Don't know yet. Hmmmm how about this?"

I held aloft a box of pizza bites with frosty crust all about the corners. Her hands went to her hips. She made, "the face" and shook her head saying,

"Alright, I'll cook! Just put that mono-sodium garbage back in its frozen tomb. You have vegetables?"

I nodded. It was the little brother trap I'd pulled on her, acting all helpless. I'd leveraged the fact that not ONLY was she a witch, but she'd also trained to be a chef. She's a nurse too by the way, but I didn't figure I'd be needing those skills unless whatever we thawed got us sick. No chance of that, however. My sister is as good with a frying pan, skillet, and spatula, as she is with an oven. In fact, I simply stepped out of her way, and she commenced pulling this and that from my fridge, after turning on my stove. Forty-five minutes later we sat in my nook enjoying an amazing meal and catching up.

"You really could do better than this place," she observed between bites of food, "I mean, you could easily afford a house and get out from under rent and landlords and all that hassle."

"I know," I said, "I know."

She was right, of course. With my grind job, I could easily buy a house. It was just a matter of me getting the ball rolling and I am always going to stop procrastinating "tomorrow." It didn't matter that much now. Lisa had changed into an extra set of pajama bottoms of mine and was wearing them better than I EVER could. I was checking her out unabashedly as we dined and conversed.

She was just as I'd remembered her, all lovely blond mane cascading over her shoulders and those lusciously full pink lips against delicate fair skin framed with a face sporting high cheekbones and a pretty Marlene Deitrich nose and chin. She had round Teutonic hips and cantaloupes for tits all hanging on a fleshy physique that suggested 'curvy sex-goddess,' to even the most casual observer.

Now she looked back at me with eyes that were sometimes brown and sometimes hazel, and I could feel her scanning my soul with them. She did that from time to time. She'd look into your eyes with this MRI like energy and sift through what was going on inside your head and your heart.

"Of course," she continued, "you could move in with me at the new place if I like it..." before adding slyly, "provided you bring that rising boner with you!"

I spat out any wine that had not gone up and out my nose and coughed like Doc Holiday. She'd read me over and felt me developing a fearsome snarling erection under the table without ever seeing it. She just knew it was there; one of her special gifts. Picking up ardor and excitement (not to mention sexual hunger), came as easily as if it were making a sound. Truth be told, I'd forgotten what a carnal empath she was; able to read sexual tension like a sports page.

"Move in, *cough* to...* wheeze* new place? *COUGH, COUGH COUGH!* I didn't know there WAS a new place!"

"Yes Silly!" she explained, "I'm finally spending my inheritance. It's why he and I had the fight this morning in the first place. I'm not going to have him squander any of the money Mom and Dad left us, so he threw a fit when he saw the paperwork on the breakfast table down in Pennsylvania. Let him piss away his own nest egg... he'll never touch mine."

As she said "touch", her bare foot slid under the table and playful chubby toes rubbed and fiddled against my shin. My cock became a throbbing pole of painful tension. She continued.

"There's a place in town I want to look at. We drove past it years ago after I moved you out of college. You were with me, but you didn't notice it, I think. Back then we didn't like same things,"

Her foot became more earnest, balls and heels moving up and down my calf beneath the pant leg of my pjs. She knew what she was doing. It wasn't the first time and sure as HELL would not be the last.

"It's a lovely little farmhouse with a great big barn. Somebody told me they raised sheep there a hundred and thirty years ago. It's five acres of farmland and another twenty acres of woods."

Her foot might well have been a hand the way it now deftly rose and fell along my leg; as if my calf being palmed by a masseuse with an exotic technique and nearly prehensile toes for fingers. Her nostrils flared. My voice quivered,

"Why do you suddenly want a fa.. ffff...?"

"A farm?" she finished for me, "I've always loved the country, and somebody like me can do so much with a house out in the woods. So can someone like you."

Her hand was now under the table. Fingers found their way inside the opening to my PJ bottoms, and a warm palm wrapped my masculinity with an aggression not unfamiliar to me; in fact it was VERY familiar... or familial to be precise. I set my wineglass down and pushed my plate back with silverware lying across it diagonally as her thumb flicked about in the pre-cum at the bellend of my prick.

"Enough real-estate discussions," she said, "I'm curious about the thread count on your bedsheets. If it passes inspection, we'll take them to the new place."

So, we ended up in the bedroom... my bedroom instead of the guest room. We left a trail of PJ's, socks, and underwear all the way to the bed; a big four poster king-sized thing that frankly was out of place with my rental but Lisa had helped me pick it out when my marriage to Amanda went *POOF!* and my wife began a better life with her boss. It was out of place and too big for my bedroom, but at the time I looked at that old hardwood bed as part of a new start on life; one full of uncertainty and trepidation, but also with mystery and excitement as to what might come next. Now I was settling down onto that same bed with my sister, the curvy blonde sex goddess and by all appearances it was ourselves cumming next.

I said before that she was curvy, and It doesn't do her justice. With her clothes on you could see this clearly, but with them on the floor mixed in with mine, the decadent fleshiness was a whole next level! Atop deliciously thicc thighs, she sported wide baby-birthing hips, with a big round apple bottom, just begging to be grabbed, fondled, and explored. Then there were those delightfully mammalian breasts of hers... big bulbous and "udderly" swollen specimens of boobage; boasting silver dollar areolas you couldn't help but want to suck upon. In stark contrast, lying smack-bang between those tits and round fleshy bottom was a surprisingly slender middle, with a tummy almost cartoonish in its slimness. To look at her it was as though she'd never been born but instead drawn by a Manga artist with a serious "thing" for big butts, thighs, and boobies, with a skinny belly thrown in the middle of it all.

I reclined back across the bed's headboard with the pillows earning their keep by propping me up from behind my back. Lisa mounted the bed and pulled in close next to me, resting on her side with her head upon my shoulder. I ran my hand up and down the landscape of her form, it was JUST as I'd remembered. The jutting twin hills of her breasts were so welcoming and familiar to the touch, her skin was pale and smooth like a snow field upon the slopes of her midriff; a lovely flat plain punctuated only by a delightfully feminine nook of a navel before it all rose again at the stark hillock of her shaven Venus mound. Beyond this lay yet another captivating frontier; its borders defined by broad hips surrounding the valley of her pubis. Her sex, a concealed mysterious grotto hid the most charming pink lotus blossom; all beneath lovely, puffed folds of exterior lips, these shaven smooth as any pink stone in some babbling brook. To either side ran the twin ranges of her substantially full thighs, trailing down to muscular sturdy calves and long adorable feet that ended dainty rounded toes. The overall effect was that of a magical landscape that was both wonderfully mammalian while unabashedly feminine and sexual; where earth, fire, and magic had melded geography and biology marvelously to form a region known to me as the sex goddess.

She also happened to be my sister, which is why what we were about to do (and what we'd actually been doing on again and off again since I was eighteen), was not only arousing and wonderfully hedonistic in its forbidden nature but also horridly wrong when considered in the context of that same nature. Oh, we knew full well about the shameful badness of it all, but then since that first beginning years before, we'd both reveled in it, knowing we were creatures of a different science and the 'right and the wrong' of it applied to others and not us. There'd been clues, even then.

That is to say neither of us knew or were fully aware but by the same token the signs were there if we happened to look. In hindsight it seems obvious, but to us at the time we added it all up to odd coincidence. I remember falling from my bike and Lisa would begin crying several houses away and nowhere near the event. I remember we'd talked at the breakfast table over our cereal about our dreams and understood that we'd had the same dream, although we did not realize we'd both been in the same one and only thought we'd both been to a zoo full of dinosaurs and Sesame Street characters. I remember being picked on by a schoolyard bully and my sister, livid with rage had thought long and hard about him falling from his skateboard (which happened subsequently and earned him several stitches despite the fact she'd not known I was being picked on or even the location or source of my tormentor). She'd get images in her head and would simply feel what I was feeling, which was why when asked by our mother what we wanted for dinner, we'd always chime in with the same thing after feeling pangs for that dish.

Years later, after the funeral of our parents when I was eighteen and living with Lisa in that cramped studio apartment of hers, she'd inadvertently tune into my moods of uncertainty. She'd come running to wherever I happened to be to lecture me about how I needed to pick myself up and be a man, not to wallow in the sadness which was consuming us both and to get off to college like Mom and Dad had wanted for me to do. Being older, I thought it stranger that she knew my mood, when I was down; unsure and hesitant as to what my next move was.

It scared us both. What's more, it scared me that I was beginning to "feel" her feelings as well; sensing her feelings of loss and at times her unease as to what she was to do with her life and how she was supposed to also look after me in the bargain. It was as if we both were sitting in the same room; me with the tv playing too loud and her with a radio too loud and neither of us able to focus with all the noise and the distraction of the other's perceptions and experiences. We had "raw thought nerves," as she used to say at that time.

Then there was the sexual arousal aspect of it all. We'd both been pretty active with people in high school and it wasn't like I'd never rubbed and tugged myself or she'd never flicked her bean, the thing was the summer of my eighteenth year I'd noticed that something had changed even with the normal activity of playing with myself to go to sleep. The line between me being aware of my self-pleasure and her being aware of hers blurred. It's hard to describe other than to say when my sister would have erotic dreams, I'd be sleeping on the pullout couch and have the same dream. I'd be in the same location with some hot MILF or floosy as she fucked a pirate or a barbarian or whatever dream she was having a short distance away. What's more, when I was awake and would pull my meat, she'd be asleep and start talking sexy talk from her bed. On several occasions when she played with her pocket rocket (figuring me to be out like a light and dead to the world), I'd be dreaming of her sexual fantasy; often being in the orgy in her head or even being the guy fated to have sex with her.

It all came to a head (quite literally) about midway through that summer. There'd been a few nights of her or me having sexy dreams and I'd wake up and have to furiously rub one out, only to hear my sister a short distance away shaking her bed as she frigged herself rotten or the soft buzz of her pocket rocket muffled under her bedclothes. On this night in particular I'd gone to bed and drifted off to sleep, only find my sister atop me, riding me cowgirl with those lovely pendulous melons in my face. I awoke with a Tyrannosaurus Rex of an erection snarling beneath the sheets and decided it would be best to just give myself a rub and tug into a tissue and then get it all over with so I could start snoring again. Curiously, as I rubbed and pulled, I thought I could hear water running.

Water running? The shower? Wait - my sister was taking a shower in the middle of the night?

No sooner had I thought this, than the water shut off and I heard my sister click off the bathroom light. As I listened for her feet padding on the floor back to her bed, I figured I'd slowly stroke my painful throbber and listen for her getting in bed, then I could get rough and freaky with my meat as soon as I was certain she was fast asleep.

The footsteps moved across the floor with purpose as they always did when Sis went to or from the bathroom. There was nothing to do but wait and slow tug on my root. Presently, however, something was different. The footsteps changed direction,

OH, SHIT! They were coming my way.

Should I pretend to sleep? Should I say something and ask what she wanted? Neither, I simply froze instead with my big throbbing prick in my hand under the covers pointing straight up to the cheap popcorn ceiling, (smooth I know). With the streetlight filtering through the partially shut blinds I could clearly see the outline of my sister with a towel about her body as she spoke.

"Ken Sweetie, I can see you there with your junk in your hand. I know you've been jacking off,"

I immediately went all denial, fervently protesting my innocence, even though in hindsight it wasn't like I was being called out. Her tone simply wasn't that of an accuser, but instead like someone commenting on whether or not it might rain or on what day the car needed an oil change. It was all matter of fact and observation without condemnation and if I'd been smarter, I'd have seen it was leading to something... something else.

At any rate she ignored me and whatever explanation I tried to cook up. Her towel fell away as she stepped toward the edge of the pullout bed. I could clearly see the outline of her melon-like breasts and for a brief second the streetlight caught her face, looking all "blonde Meg Tilly-like" and feline as she threw open the covers and told me to,

"Move over, little brother," before climbing inside.

***

Now, several years later, here she was, once again in my bed and already down between my legs; her mouth full of my cock. Her big, lovely ass rose up to the ceiling and swished in lazy circles as I palmed her pretty blonde head as it bobbed with happy enthusiasm on my junk. With my free hand I reached forward and gave that marvelous ass a squeeze, a loud SLAP and another gropey squeeze.

Her hand cupped my balls and squeezed back in reply. Her other hand was up somewhere between her thighs working her snatch. She's one of those girls who gets horny as all fucking hell sucking cock and she'd been edging herself as my ding dong played bumper cars with her tonsils. It had been several minutes, and she was gluck gluck glucking me with ever increasing rapidity. Now she did one of her witchy parlor tricks that we'd developed over the years. In my head she said to me,

"You about to cum honey?"

"I am," I thought back to her.

"Kay," she replied, echoing around in my melon like her voice was ringing out in an empty auditorium, "I'm not gonna let you nut yet. I'm getting you to the edge but I won't let you bust."

"Ohhhh shihhhh," I said out loud, my voice quivering off the bedroom walls like I'd stepped on a hot coal.

True to her word, she kept me from cumming using her mind. She'd brought me up to the edge, oh sure... but then she stopped short of the line, a razor's edge slimness away between joyful agony and joyful release. It was something we'd perfected years before; a short time after we'd both begun having sex and when we'd begun to discover our various "virtues." Now as she slurped and sucked, she had me riding that sweet fine line with my sperm building like tons of water behind a dam.

Not letting go of my junk from her jowls, she spun herself about on me, throwing a thick-goddess thigh over my head before bringing her delicious ass and twat down to nestle upon my face. Sixty-nine was a favorite of ours and always had been. It kept me from getting her pregnant back when we'd started the "thing" between us, and it allowed for endless fun on rainy days and nights when sleep evaded us. Now in that creaky old bed, it was JUST like old times; brought out by her twat flower and the scent of her skin, the heady sweet funk of taint and naughty balloon-knot butthole that was uniquely hers, it all brought back those days when we'd first discovered each other sexually, and of the uniqueness of our abilities.

My lips found clit and I proceeded to nurse upon it like a rubbery hooded nipple. Gagged by a mouthful of cock, she bellyache-moaned in reply; her hips hopping and humping slightly as she fucked me in the mouth with her pretty pink bean. Almost at once she was back in my head with,

"OH YES, little brother, you know how to do that so well!"

***

Talking in our heads to one another during sex had so many uses. We could be totally oral with one another and have full blown conversations, and often we'd done so. Back when we first began having sex, we discovered it quite by accident. We'd been fucking doggystyle and for a brief second, I mused about pulling out of her steaming cunt and putting my junk in her anus; just like the two people in the porno on my sister's TV were doing. A loud "OH NO YOU DON'T!" rang out in my head, clearly in her voice.

"WHO SAID THAT?" I thought.

We stopped. Lisa looked around over her shoulder and all over the room perplexed as I was; her head still low and her lovely ass jutting up like a round fleshy bike ramp. We were both a little startled by it but we both seemed to understand what seemed to have occurred.

"You don't want me to put it in your butt, Sis?" I thought.

"You can fuck my pussy," she replied in my head as her own head nodded with lips zipped shut, "and I'll suck you dry any day of the week, but your dick does not go in my butt. I'll take tongues and fingers back there (in fact I REALLY kind of like that), but cock does not go in my butt."

It was a breakthrough. We later learned from a mentor witch who'd taken Lisa "under her wing, and under other things," that sometimes sexual intimacy could trigger telepathy in people gifted such as us. Now to be fair, Lisa was the gifted one. I was just a being with enough genetic similarity to her that I could sort-of manifest powers and with practice I could pull off the equivalent of party tricks. She, it turns out, had a well-spring of natural ability that she could control just as easily as if she were tapping away on a computer, driving a car, or using an entertainment system remote.

In any event, she and I that summer became a dynamic duo, scouring clubs and bars, looking for women to pick up for threesomes. We made a point of seeking out ladies who were sexually adventurous and wished to experiment with other women, (not to mention those women who'd indulge my craving for my cock up their greased asshole). Surprisingly, because of our gift, we met with considerable success. I remember we'd see a girl in a bar or club or sometimes even a restaurant and Sis would simply squeeze my hand and the conversations in our heads would begin something like this,

"She just looked at you."

"No Sis, it was YOU she was looking at,"

"Wrong, little brother. I felt her. She likes your face and saw you smile... found you charming even. Okay, now she smiled at me, and she likes how I'm smiling back. We are positive energy to her. She thinks we are a couple and she'd really LOVE to play."

"So are we walking over there?"

"We ARE. Now act confident, but let me do the opening hellos,"

And so, it would go. We'd approach the woman and my sister being all love and light would do the whole "I love your hair" thing. She'd touch the lady's mane, and the chick would reply back with "Oh thank you!" or some such thing, and all at once the ice was broken. Next thing you knew, we were back at her place or she at ours, with our clothes all mangled in a heap next to the bed.

In later months, we'd hook up with couples for full-on girl-swap but since the majority of these people (despite being swingers), were often "normies," we kept our status as brother and sister a secret. Naturally, the whole "shared special abilities" thing was a secret as well. The "gift" provided us with a multitude of sexual adventures.

It also provided us with considerable advantages in the bedroom, not the least of which being the ability to communicate to each other right in front of people without them knowing as we had sex. I might be up against the pillows with some woman riding astride me, cowgirl me with her tits in my mouth, while not four feet away her husband would be ramming my sister's pussy doggystyle and with reckless abandon. At some point, Lisa would be in my head saying,

"Go easy with that for a few minutes. She's going to cum any minute, but her husband is watching you two and getting jealous. Oh WHY do guys allow their wives to fuck other men if they are going to get all "jelly fellah" inside? So STUPID!" I think back with,

"Okay, I'll go easy on the love-making and sweet talk and focus more on just getting off inside this woman but why not flip over and do a face to face with him atop you, missionary? He'll be all occupado with you and won't notice how I'm stirring the guts of his wife."

Another time Sis and I had a hot little redhead named Tabitha that we'd picked up in a club. Lisa had talked up a storm to me in my skull, coaching me through foreplay and eating this strawberry tart of a girl. Now with both women in the sixty-nine position and Lisa down below, I was stroking Tabitha's tawy-haired twat with gusto and rubbing a little spit with my thumb on her pink mud button asshole as Lisa mind-messaged me with,

"OH YEAH, she's ready brother! Smear that glop around her sphincter, she loves that your spit is so warm! After that, move your cock up to the backdoor and slide in... she's had more than a few cocks back there and she's an absolute freak from what I am reading here! I'll keep talking you through it as I suck this clit..."

And talk me through it she did. Lisa gave me a play-by-play, stroke by stroke description of what was happening in Tabaitha's head as it thrashed its red locks and fed down between my sister's thighs. Sis talked me through penetration, getting me all the way through Tabby's pink "ass-ring-shutter-pucker," then into the space beyond; making me pause immediately following entry so this little Irish pixie had a chance to adjust to the girth stretching her gut. When all was good, she had me inch by deliciously agonizing inch forward.

"Slow... go slow baby brother," Lisa thought to me, "So far she's excited but still a little fearful. What I'm doing to her twat is making her mental though and UGHHH... she's doing nice things to me too!"

I kept slowly moving forward, and Lisa kept coaching, and Tabitha kept wriggling like a happy worm on a hook as she munched the blonde fringed twat of my sister. At long excruciating last, I was sheathed in Tabitha's tight chute, with balls dangling just before Lisa's eyebrows! Of course, the whole time all Tabitha knew was I was doing EXACTLY what she'd wanted, and all because my sister was my telepathic penis pilot; sensing Tabby's vibe, urges, and fears, talking me up that nasty nether channel like I was steering an oil tanker through the Panama Canal.

The result in about fifteen minutes was Tabitha, Lisa, and me growling and groaning through gloriously good orgasms before we collapsed in a post sex cuddle puddle. Tabitha was completely convinced of my sexual prowess. It was complete bullshit of course since my sister had helped me cheat off Tabby's turd-chute test paper but he little red-head was an absolute believer in my butt-breaking skills. Lisa meanwhile got her snatch gobbled by a girl who knew her way around a gash, and I got to blow a load up the hiney of a redheaded hottie whom I'd convinced was out of my league when I'd laid eyes upon her for the first time earlier that night. Proof of our success was Tabitha complimenting Sis on the lovely time she'd had fucking Lisa's boyfriend, and she inquired as to whether or not she could 'borrow' me. She didn't suspect for a minute our sibling status.

"Oh, you are free to have him anytime," Lisa said, kissing Tabby's neck while fondling the girl's gumdrop nippled boobies, "just don't scuff him up too bad before you return him!"

It went on like this again and again that summer before I trotted off to college, with couples and singles bedding down with us; completely unaware of anything out of the ordinary. Oh, Lisa didn't let me get too far off the leash. She watched over me from afar and visited me quite often over the next four years. We'd hit bars around my university, picking up coeds, "student couples" who were going steady but wanted to stray, and even my philosophy professor and her husband for a wife-swap session. Nobody suspected a thing.

We normalized this "thing" of ours about the same time or maybe a little before we normalized my sister was a witch and I carried around a lot of power I couldn't control very well, like I was some incontinent puppy shooting magic everywhere. At any rate, it's why I can speak about it so matter of factly. It's not out of the ordinary for us but I can attest that right up until we explored this highly charged sexual aspect of our relationship, we'd both have been horrified by what we'd later do together. After we'd begun the "thing" it became simply fun and beautiful sex.

Of course, we both had people we hid "the thing" from. Sis had her boyfriends and women she'd pick up from time to time without me. I also had girlfriends in college who knew there was a woman who came by my place now and again. They figured out she was my sister, but we never let on about the intimate business going down and often (as college relationships will do), we'd break up in about three weeks and we'd move on. Sis was smart enough to hit these women with a memory spell to wipe clean the understanding that I even had a sibling; sort of erasing select files in a hard drive or writing gibberish over them. That way, nobody who knew my sister around campus would be able to put two and two together and share stories with say, my philosophy professor and her husband, or any coeds Sis and I hooked up with. She was an expert "tracks in the snow" eraser.

She was also an expert cocksucker and now all these years later; her with her nursing degree, me with my bachelors, her with those failed relationships and me with my divorce, we were in my bed sixty-nine and she just-so-happened to have me riding the edge, about to blow my salty nut butter across her tonsils. To be fair she was hanging on the precipice away from puss-busting on my face. She was bucking my mouth, fucking my lips with her swollen garbanzo bean of a clit and I was stroking her G-spot with two hooked fingers in up to the knuckle in her gash. Oh, but she didn't want either of us to bust... not yet!

She kept on holding me with her mind, torturing me with her mental parlor trick and keeping me from blowing my load in her mouth; despite me desperately wanting to make the back of her throat pregnant. She was getting itchy to get her girly-gasm too but kept riding my face and dragging this torrid sixty-nine edge session, minute after wonderfully excruciating minute. I felt her cupping and squeezing my balls as she shoved them up into her nostrils for a good deep huff of brotherly ballsack; the mushroom head of my dong poking the back of her throat with each delicious stroke. I'd begun to retaliate; still sucking her clit nub while hooking to fingers back hard in her snatch against her g-spot juice button, all while my other hand finger-fucked away at her naughty asshole. That did it.

Feeling now all three holes plus her clit poked and prodded, she felt the lovely overwhelming sense of sensory overload she needed. Letting us both go with her mind, her twat gushed into my waiting lips a huge splattergasm of a climax. I in turn snarled; immediately turning the back of her throat into an instant sperm bank with several salty deposits jetting straight down her gullet. The room's silence was broken by greedy gulps and chugs as hips thrashed and the bed creaked with desperate rapidity until everything was replaced by groans and gasps of relief and release, if only for a moment.

She'd been wanting this, but now she wanted more. Before my cock had the chance to slacken, she spun about on the bed, mounted my still semi-rigid member, and sank down the shaft straight to my balls. Now astride me cowgirl-style, she dangled her pendulous boobies in my face, bidding me to nurse.

Her mind worked a spell for increased stiffness and my throbber rushed with blood; stiff as a fence post a split second later. A nipple found its way into my mouth and as I commenced to nurse and chew at it. With choppers tugging away on that lovely goddess udder, I wiggled a mischievous finger up into the warmth of her waiting anus. Not wishing to speak with my mouthful (as its impolite), my mind posed a question to her,

"So what is so special about this house you want me to see?"

"It's a FARM," she corrected me out loud, "and the house isn't your typical farmhouse. It's Victorian and frankly looks a little out of place but the people who built it did so on the foundation of an older building, some stone structure that was originally there from when the farm was first cleared, built and settled. The current house most likely sits on the old farmhouse, but the barn is original with additions."

She began scooching her ass back and forth in a grinding fashion as my finger diddled at her dung chute and my nipple chewing and sucking now reduced her to smelling my hair and caressing my face. I wanted so badly to nut inside her, but she held me firm with her mind. I continued my mental queries with,

"Alright, FARM. Have it your way... but is it something you want to spend your inheritance on? You don't strike me as the farming type."

"It is," she hissed back in my ear as my cock, finger buggering and titty sucking now had her tweaking and pinching her free nipple like a stuck dresser drawer, "and it's not so extravagant as to piss away the entirety of the money. I'll have plenty left, as I'll get a sweet deal. The house has a history of sorts."

"Hauntings?" my head shot back.

"Well," she steamed like a tea kettle, "there's activity there of a level I thought might prove beneficial, for me... and you. It's gone for a while on the market after the previous owner passed two years back. Oh, I'm sure we'll hear the same old excuses of soft markets and other shit from the realtors, but I'm sure something else made it hard to sell. What's more, there are things in the barn worth seeing, and worth saving my money for..."

"Wait what do you mean, saving the money for? You have plans for the rest of your money on the same piece of prop..."

"I have plans to use that place to make even more money than we could ever dream possible - now shut that head up, brother! I need a release..."

Within a few minutes, she'd found the pace and friction she needed. By now sweat ran down the both of us like two fighters pummeling one another mercilessly atop that creaking four-poster. I was like a balloon set to burst and she was like a cat in heat. In the back of her throat rose a garbled bellyache groan, rattling with saliva against lungs working like bellows. Now her climax crystal clear for her, the groan became a whine through flaring nostrils.

Pain seared through my scalp as she grabbed my hair in a fistful, drawing my face harder into the warm fleshy smoosh of her tits. Following her lead, I set to sucking her very soul out of that nipple with lips and choppers. As if in a perverse sort of competition, twists and tugs from her own fingers had that other poor nipple stretched like bubblegum; all while faster and faster her hips sawed with frantic desperation.

Her head flung back, blond mane sending drops of sweat through the air as her mouth fell open. She stared upwards through eyes wide as saucers. I felt a trickle of hot puss brine trickle down my shaft and balls as her mind joyfully echoed through my own skull with,

"Now! YESSSS! Bust that nut in me NOW!" The irony of course was that all that came forth from her lips and lungs was,

"AAAAAGGGGHHHH!"

My head was at once off the swollen gumdrop of her titty nub as I felt it hit. All I could do was snarl and rage through my release. Jet after excruciating jet of my ball chowder splashed her insides, as now transformed into something more primal beast than man, I flipped her sideways without us uncoupling. She was now on her back with knees bent and I was driving for all I was worth between those lovely hammy thighs, blasting my last jets of seed home up inside her steaming twat as we both bawled and sobbed happily.

It was just as I'd remembered. Delicious. I was immediately swept up in the tranquility of it all. One minute we were thrashing violently as if trying to kill each other and the next, we were all peace and breathy giggles, as fingers lazily traced through sweat and sex funk along limbs and bellies, necks and faces in the darkness of the bedroom.

We kissed and held one another close. Getting comfortable, she tossed a thick thigh over me and bent it at the knee before resting her head on my chest, somewhat catlike in her movements. With her reading my mind and knowing I'd noticed how feline she'd appeared, she purrrrred loudly and we chuckled through it.

We'd done the THING again. Shameful? Well, yes it was by conventional standards... but powerful, potent and absolutely wonderful by our own.

"So, you'll come with me?" she asked, this time through a sleepy pair of lips.

"To the real estate office?" I mumbled back, feeling the sleep monster attacking me.

"Well THAT of course, silly... but also to look the property over, and there will be other people we'll need to consult with if my hunch is right. May also need to talk to friends about some special farm equipment."

"Hunch?" I said, hanging on the edge of being awake, "Wait, farm equih...?"

"SLEEP."

The word was not as much an instruction as her flexing her mind upon mine... in a good way. In a caring familial way. Mmmm... alright, she'd zonked me with a Somnus spell, but I really needed the rest, and it was all it took to send me careening off to dreamland. I'd need my rest for what was to come... and cum.