J. Bradley - Raped by brother

"God, baby – open up! I'm ready for number four!"

"No – ohhhhhh, God, let me rest, you fucker!" Carla moaned. "You said we'd talk now."

"Later – after you suck it off!"

He pushed her thighs from his shoulders and crawled up onto the bed, straddling her body. His prick drooled a string of cum from her pussy to her tits.

He placed the shaft between her pointed cones and squeezed in on the sides of them and rocked back and forth, fucking her tits. The red, swollen cockhead burst from the soft groove of enfolding pillows and jabbed up against her chin.

"Ohhhhh, honey, it reeks," Carla moaned, wrinkling her nose and trying to turn her head to the side.

"Then clean it off, baby – suck it clean!"

"You said we'd talk. You said we'd figure out a plan!"

"You've got to earn it, baby. You've got to show me I'm buying something besides a mess of trouble. The deal was you fuck or suck or anything I want whenever I want, wasn't it?"

"Yes! Ohhhhhh, that was the deal, honey!"

"Then suck my cock off right now, while I'm still good and hot!"

He cupped his hand at the back of her head and lifted. She looked at him a moment. There was an odd expression in her eyes. It lasted only a fleeting second. Then her mouth opened, and she pursed her lips and wetted them with her tongue.

"Come here, you Goddamn fucker," she growled throatily, grabbing his dick with her hand and pulling it toward her face.

She licked the underside of his shaft. She appeared to want to make a face, but she hid it. She licked again. In a moment, she pursed her lips around the velvety head of his prick and sucked inward noisily, her cheeks hollowing.

Whit tossed his head back and moaned. "Ohhhhh, shit, that's good!" he gasped.

He sat on the pillowing cones of her tits, her nipples burrowing into each buttock. Her head bobbed back and forth. In a moment, she closed her eyes and moaned.

"Nnnnnnn!" Her hand went to her drenched pussy slit again and started stroking the wet flesh there.

"That's it, baby – get hot again," Whit moaned. "Whip that pussy up into a frothing, quivering fuck hole, and I'll suck it off for you while you drink down my cum!"

Her hand went faster and faster when he promised that. Heat built in her yielding body again. Her tongue slurped from between her lips and slithered down the underside of his prick to his hairy, soaked baits.

She sucked his prick to the back of her throat. Monica watched it happen. She held her breath. Carla was doing something with her neck. And then the cock shaft went in and in!

God, she was sucking it clear down her throat!

Monica had been repelled by what Carla was doing at first. She didn't see why the girl didn't gag with the first lick of Whit's cock. But now she was getting steamed up once more herself.

Her tongue licked out around her lips. She swallowed repeatedly, just as if the prick were in her mouth instead of Carla's. She watched the slithering, sliding fingers open up the sodden folds of her draining pussy again and fuck around in the quivering pink meat.

She could see a sheen of sperm on the blonde's pussy lips. She saw a dollop of white stuff squeeze from her asshole as the little mouth began to pulse and shudder with heat.

She watched her brother fuck his cock in and out of Carla's pursed mouth, and she groaned inside with the thought that she was going to have to masturbate herself to another crushing orgasm.

But that didn't happen. She heard a sound. It was foreign to the night sounds of the Gulf and the clattering palm fronds she'd been dimly conscious of behind her all this while.

She gasped and tore her eyes from the sight in the bedroom. There it was again!

Cautiously, she flattened herself and crept to the edge of the balcony, seeing more and more of the terrace below come into view as her head inched forward.

The sound was unmistakable this time. It was the grate of sand between shoe leather and terrazzo. It came from her right, toward where the dining room doors opened onto the terrace.

She saw a shadowy bulk standing there. The moon came out from behind a cloud, and the shadow took form – a stocky, muscular form. Behind her, now, Carla let out another muffled groan, and Whit nearly bellowed with passion.

Monica glanced back and saw that his prick was bucking and pounding between Carla's pursed lips. Spots of white sperm bubbled from the wet juncture, of cock and fucked mouth and dribbled down her chin to her neck.

Whit groaned again, and Monica looked around toward the ground quickly, knowing that he could be heard. Chester's face was clearly visible in the moonlight, now, upturned and listening.

Monica drew back, nearly shaking, praying that Chester hadn't spotted her there in the shameful acts of peeping and masturbating.

After what seemed an eternity, the scrunching sound came again, and she heard the soft sound of the glass door sliding shut as Chester went back into the house.

Would he tell her grandfather what was happening up in Whit's room? Would he spare the old man another shock and come up himself? Or, horror of horrors, would he dare think that she was in her brother's room getting fucked so thoroughly by him?

She shivered again. She heard more sounds from the bedroom, but she didn't look. She didn't care what they were going to do next – or what was so important and secretive that they had to talk about. She had to get the hell out of there, right now!

She stood. She made her legs stop shaking. She climbed to the edge of the balcony and looked across the yawning space to her own. It seemed horribly far away this time.

She steeled herself and jumped. The lithe body worked independently of her and in spite of her. The landing was smooth and accurate. She clutched the railing and nearly sobbed as she lifted a leg over it and scampered shakily back into the sanctum of her room.

She hurried to her door and put her ear against it, holding her breath. She didn't hear Chester coming up the stairs. She listened for a long time. She didn't hear him go across the house to her grandfather's downstairs bedroom, either.

She straightened up finally, her heart quieted at last. Well, he didn't really need to come up to find out what was happening. The sounds made it clear enough. He knew. He most probably knew that it was Carla being fucked, too.

But had he seen her outside the French doors, watching? Would he tell that to her grandfather too, if he had?

Monica shivered and slipped out of her pants and blouse in the darkness. She slipped between the sheets and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.

Now she didn't dare make demands of her grandfather about seeing Burke. Because she would never know for certain what he knew about her newly awakened desires.

She thought of Burke, the weight of his body against her, the warm spurting of his prick over her belly. She slid her hand to her pussy and cupped it gently, her fingers moving for a moment.

A warm smile came to her lips, and her eyes suddenly closed. They could still meet out behind the wall. They could still lie in the warm, green cover of the seagrapes and kiss each other.

And, maybe soon, they could fuck…

She waited beside the wall again. She leaned against it and picked a leaf and tore it into small pieces absently, lifting her head to listen closely to each strange sound from the street.

It was pointless to wait any longer. She'd been there nearly an hour today already. She'd climbed the arbor twice to look over the wall, but she hadn't seen Burke or his pickup.

She wasn't surprised. Only disappointed again. This was the third day he hadn't been at school. The third day he hadn't come to the wall to see her.

Monica sighed despondently and brushed the leaf particles from her fingertips, smelling the aroma they'd left there. She gazed through a small aperture in the foliage toward the big house, and she couldn't help but wonder – couldn't help but think it.