Well, That Backfired Ch. 03

"Audrie," Toms says, looking down at Laurie, then over at me, "do you still want to just watch?"

"I'm just a spectator," I smile, my words mingling with a moan as I touch myself, "don't let me interrupt you."

"Well then," Tom says and pulls Laurie back by the hips, "what do you want me to do to her?"

"We want to know what makes you tick." Laurie smiles at me, her expression a disheveled mess of frayed hair and smeared makeup, "we want to know the real Audrie."

"Will you do anything I want?" I ask, hooking my free thumb into the waistband of my leggings and pulling them down.

"Anything," Laurie grins crookedly, "what twisted fantasies does Audrie Baker have in that head of hers?"

This is new and exciting. Not only do I have the privilege of watching siblings engage in the forbidden, but I get to dictate how they do it. I'm ashamed to say that I've spent a pathetic amount of time flicking the bean in front of a computer screen since marriage, and my tastes have turned voyeuristic as a result. I like participating as much as the next gal, but there's something about watching that gives you a feeling of... power.

"Tom," I say sweetly to my step-son, "could you hit her for me?"

Laurie gives me a shocked look, and I respond with an apologetic smile. Tom takes a grip of his sister's curls, turns her face to him, then slaps her hard across the cheek. Her head whips to the side as a yelp blasts from her mouth. She stares at me, touching a hand to the red print on her cheek, her eyes welling in tears, her gaping lips quivering as shallow, rapid breaths flow between them. Then, her eyes widen in realization, and the corners of her mouth curl in an astounded smile.

"You liked that, didn't you?" I smirk at her.

"I've never been hit like that," Laurie says, the excitement edging in her voice, "oh my god..."

"I can tell you like it rough," I say, deepening my penetration as tones of my arousal mix with my words, "now, take off your clothes, but leave the skirt on."

Tom pulls off his shirt as Laurie begins fumbling with the buttons of her own. It's obvious that she's delaying on purpose, and Tom gets frustrated, and gives her what she wants. He grabs her by the neck of her collared button-up, and rips it down the middle, causing a spray of buttons to clatter against the floor. Laurie laughs gleefully as her petite breasts jiggle from her body, and the remains of her shirt fall from her dainty bare shoulders.

"Hit her again," I command, joining my hands together between my legs as I arch my back against the seat, "and choke her."

Tom grabs his sister by the throat, and she returns his violence with a challenging smile. He slaps the smile off her face, and her head whips to the side. Though the mirth has left her expression, the arousal is shining from her eyes. She bites her lip, grinds her thighs together, then faces her brother again, curling the same challenging smile across her mouth. He hits her again, and again, and again. Every slap sends her hair flailing in a bounce of coils, and her head reeling to the side, but it also prompts moans to mix with her yelps, and her thighs to grind together with increasingly desperate need. When Laurie is begging for more, and her inner thighs are soaked with the nectar of her want, I order her brother to cease the abuse.

"Now," I say pushing three fingers from each hand inside myself, "tie her hands behind her back."

Tom takes Laurie's shirt, and she places her wrists together behind her. Her sapphire eyes brim with excitement, and she gives me a lip-biting smile as her brother binds her.

"I don't like that smug look you have," I smirk at Laurie, "Tom, gag your whore sister."

"You do it." Tom says as he winds his sister's shirt into a rope. I open my mouth to object, but the cold look in his eyes stops my words against my teeth. That's not the look of someone you say 'no' to. That's the look he gives Laurie that makes her want to do the depraved things he desires. It's not a look he inherited from his father.

"Ok, Tom," I say as I withdraw my hands from myself, and bend forward to Laurie, "but this is as far as I'll go."

"Of course," Tom says, the look vanishing from his face, the easy smile reappearing, "my hands are just full at the moment."

I look Laurie in the eye as I hook my fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, and pull them down her legs. Strings of her juices glisten in the light and cling to the fabric, before stretching and snapping as I pull her panties further. I take them off, and smile into her blue eyes as Tom binds her wrists behind her.

"Open your mouth." I command, and she does, the corners of her gaping lips quirking in excitement. I push the filthy panties into her mouth, and she graciously accepts them, moaning delectably as she savors the taste of herself. Tom pulls his sister's arms back behind her, prompting Laurie to whimper a muffled tone of discomfort, and pinch her shoulders back, allowing her petite breasts to protrude from her delicate frame. Tom finishes off the last knot, then rests his chin on his sister's shoulder, and looks right into my eyes.

"Ok Audrie," he smiles his easy, panty-dropping grin, "what do you want me to do to her?"

"Hmm," I muse, tracing my fingers down Laurie's thighs, reveling in the control I have over her, "a filthy whore like this doesn't deserve to be fucked in the pussy..."

I look squarely into Laurie's eyes, and see the anticipation building behind her sapphire irises. She doesn't want it in the pussy, does she? No, Laurie likes the depraved, and the perverse; she wants it where it hurts.

"A filthy little whore wants it in her filthy little hole, doesn't she?" I grin at Laurie, and she nods enthusiastically. "Tom," I say, lying back into my arm of the couch, sliding my hands between my legs, "fuck your twin sister's little asshole."

I expected Tom to ease her into it. I expected him to bend her over, and push in slowly until she acclimated to the pressure. That's how every partner I ever had did it when I was feeling frisky with my backdoor, but that's not what Tom does. Tom picks Laurie up by the thighs, swings his legs under her, and impales his poor sister. Her back wrenches in a curve, her head reels behind her shoulders, her abdomen tenses, and she screams a muffled tone of agonized ecstasy. Her pussy glistens with the arousal of her abuse, and her thighs quiver in their splayed positions outside of Tom's legs. I can see the base of his thick cock wrapped in the tight rim of Laurie's asshole, and I can see the way she's clenching around him, the flesh of her taint pulled tight around her reaming; she fucking loves it.

Tom grips his sister's ass, spreading her open as his fingers sink into the supple flesh. He shifts his weight backward so that Laurie is forced to lean against his abdomen, and I'm allowed an excellent view of what he's doing to her. He pulls out, and I see a small length of her anal flesh stretch and distend from her hole, sheathing his cock in a thin membrane of pink glistening skin. Laurie shrieks a sobbing plea for more; her eyes wide and trembling, her lips sucking around her panties. Tom pulls to his crease, and spreads Laurie wide enough so that she gapes around him, allowing me to look inside my step daughter's smooth bore. I'm rubbing my clit furiously, bringing myself to the brink of orgasm, then slowing down, wanting to come when they do.

Tom begins to fuck his sister. His drives are long and rapid, forcing every inch of himself into his sister's widening rim as she flails to the rhythm of his lust atop him. Her breasts jiggle and deform to her shifting momentum, her hair bounces behind her in a mess of curls, and her shoulders tense and twist as she struggles for purchase with her bound hands. Tom slides his hands from his sister's cheeks to her thighs, and pulls her legs back. Her flexible gymnast body bends easily for him, and her knees are soon resting beside her ears. He locks his elbows behind her knees, brings his hands behind her, and presses them together on the back of her head, forcing her to look down at what he's doing to her. Laurie's stifled screams rise in their pitch as she watches her brother's cock disappear into her tight pink shithole, the sensation intensifying by bearing witness to them, like how an injury's pain only find you when you see the damage, and Tom is ruining her. His hips surge upward in a relentless jackhammer of thrusts, and Laurie's body writhes in abject pleasure, well past the point of controlling herself. She bends, curves, and shifts to his every whim, lost in the mind-breaking heat of her lust. Tom, however, is very much in control. He stares at me over his sister's shoulder, fucking her, but watching me. His gaze is cold and controlling; wanting, but not asking. It's as if his sister is but the tool of his message, and the message is very clear: this is what he wants to do to me. As I push my fingers into my pussy, and tease the rim of my ass with my pinkies, I realize, I want him to do it. The Indica weed has infected my muscles with lassitude, the alcohol has broken my inhibitions, but it's the boredom, the days and days of nothing that have swelled behind me like an ocean behind a dam, and the drugs, booze and sex have formed cracks in the cement. I want to feel Laurie's body pressed against my own, and I want to feel Tom's raging heat inside me, but I can't do it willingly; my conscience won't let me. I'm a faithful wife, Tommy; if you want it, you're going to have to take it.

SIERRA

"This is a stupid plan!" I hiss at Eleanor as we scoot into the booth of the coffee shop.

"You're just being a pussy," Eleanor hisses back, "it will go fine unless you chicken-out."

"How do I look?" I ask, nervously adjusting my clothing.

"Like a dime, Sierra," Eleanor smiles warmly, and places a comforting hand on my thigh, "he doesn't stand a chance."

"What if he doesn't come?" I ask, feeling the panic rising in my chest, "What if he just goes straight to work?"

"I don't think we have to worry about that." Eleanor chuckles, and gestures to the opening front door. My ex-husband walks through the glass coffee shop door, looking older than I last saw him, but still every bit the man I once loved, and still do. I shrink in the booth, but Eleanor tightens her grip on my thigh, prompting me to jolt upright.

"Confidence, Sierra!" She whispers, "You're still the hottest piece he ever had, Audrie be damned. Now, look at me and act like we're having a conversation, and stop staring at him."

I force myself to look at Eleanor, and we talk about nothing as Bradley goes to the counter. From the corner of my eye, I see him glance at me, and I force myself to keep my attention diverted toward the redhead in my booth. He looks away, and then does a sudden double-take. Showtime, Sierra.

"He's walking over here." Eleanor says, still nodding and smiling like we're in the midst of gossip, "Do not look, and do not initiate; make him make the first move."

I can hear his footsteps approaching, and it takes every inch of my will not to turn around and look. Finally, the footsteps stop. Eleanor continues talking about nothing, and I continue to pretend to listen to her babble.

"Sierra?" Bradley's voice says from behind me, "Sierra Townsend?"

I slowly turn my head over my shoulder, and I see him. A few more lines on his face, and a bald spot on the top of his head, but still him. Still my Bradley.

"Bradley?" I ask, no longer having to feign my reaction, "Holy shit, Bradley?!"

"Oh my god!" Bradley exclaims, throwing his arms out to his side and nearly spilling his coffee, "Sierra, how the hell have you been?"

I practically leap from the booth and run into his arms. He embraces me like an old friend, and I have to resist embracing him like a lover. I hug him tightly, then pull away after the appropriate amount of contact has been made.

"Goddamn," Bradley exclaims as he looks me over, "the years have been much kinder to you than they've been to me!"

"You look great." I smile, "A little less hair, but a little more muscle." I squeeze his arm playfully, and he blushes a little.

"Yeah," he says awkwardly, feeling the top of his head, "I tried Rogaine, but after a while, I just figured there's no fighting father time. Unless you're Sierra Townsend, I guess," he laughs, gesturing broadly to me, "the ageless wonder!"

"It's still Sierra Baker," I chuckle, "and last I checked, thirty-six isn't 'old.'"

"You kept my name?" Bradley says, astounded.

"I'm a traditionalist," I laugh, then gesture to Eleanor, "except in some regards, I guess. Bradley, this is Eleanor O'Reilly, my fiancé."

"Your fiancé..." Bradley trails off, looking wide-eyed at the teenage bombshell grinning in the booth, "you're..."

"...a lesbian." Eleanor giggles from her seated position, "Yes, Mr. Baker."

"Call me Bradley." Bradley says, still baffled at what he's looking at. Eleanor extends a hand to him, and he shakes himself from his stupor, and grasps it, "Nice to meet you."

"Care to sit down?" I ask him, gesturing to the booth, "Or are we holding you up?"

"I've got work in fifteen minutes, but those bastards owe me weeks of vacation time." Bradley says, finally regaining his smile, "We got some catching up to do, don't we?"

"We certainly do." I laugh, and sit down next to my 'fiancé.' Bradley scoots into the booth, keeping a respectful distance from the two of us. He gives Eleanor a studious once-over, then smiles the same easy smile his children wear.

"If you don't mind me asking, Miss," Bradley says in a joking tone, "can I see your driver's license? You don't look old enough to be in this establishment."

"Bradley!" I laugh in mock embarrassment.

"We get that all the time," Eleanor chuckles to Bradley, "I am old enough to marry, but three years shy of ordering my own beer."

"Holy hell," Bradley says, "good for you, Sierra."

"Thank you, Bradley," I smile widely, gesturing to the ring on his finger, "I see you've found someone too."

"Yeah," Bradley says, unconsciously twisting the ring, "I can't really fault you for marrying a younger woman, seeing as I did the exact same thing with Audrie. You know," Bradley says, his smile disappearing as he looks at me, "it makes a lot of sense now."

"What?" I ask, feeling my smile fade.

"How we ended up," Bradley says, and then nods to Eleanor, "and who you really are; it makes sense. You were trying to find something you couldn't get from me or any other man, but you didn't know what it was at the time, so you kept looking in all the wrong places. You should've told me, Sierra. I would have understood."

"We don't need to dig up the past." I say, and entwine my fingers with Eleanor's, "Just leave it buried; we're both better off for it."

Bradley looks long and hard at me, years of words flowing from his eyes. His expression softens, and he slaps the table in conciliation.

"You're right," he says, his smile back on his lips, "it's buried. So, how have the kids been?"

"I was hoping you'd be able to tell me yourself," I say, raising an eyebrow, "seeing as how I dropped them off at your house, and someone let them in."

"You did?!" Bradley exclaims, and then pulls out his phone, "I didn't get any messages from Audrie about it."

"They wanted to surprise you," I smile ruefully, "and it looks like I ruined it."

"Jesus H. Christ, Sierra!" Bradley nearly shouts, "I haven't seen them in ten years, and you just drop them off?!"

"There's no bad blood," I say, grasping his hand in a consoling nature, "they understand things just didn't work out, and now that they're old enough to make their own decisions, they decided they wanted to reconnect with you."

Bradley's panicked expression stays on his face a moment longer, then relaxes into a crestfallen frown. "You sure they don't hate me?" He asks, his words barely a mumble.

"Of course not!" I laugh, and squeeze his hand, "I made sure they got your presents every Christmas, and I made sure to tell them you loved them more than anything."

"I don't even know them," Bradley mutters, still grasping my hand, "my own children are strangers to me."

"Well," I say, and place my other hand on top of his, "why don't you fix that?"

Bradley stares at the table for a while, deep in thought. His jaw muscles work like they always do when he's thinking, and his brow furrows in the same contemplative manner. Suddenly, his eyes light up, and a broad grin stretches across his face.

"You know what?" He says, squeezing my hand a final time before pulling it away, "Let's go!"

"All of us?" I ask with false alarm in my voice, "Bradley, surely you can't-"

"All of us!" Bradley says firmly, and slaps the table again, "You'll love Audrie, Sierra," and then his smile grows wicked, "you just keep your hands off her, OK?"

"Bradley!" I exclaim in mock embarrassment once again, and pull Eleanor close to me.

"You keep your eyes on this one, Ellie." Bradley grins as he stands up, gesturing to me, "I don't care which way she swings, Sierra is a hard one to tie down."

"Really?" Eleanor smirks at Bradley, then runs a possessive hand up my thigh, "Because I found her quite easy to... tie down."

"Ellie," I giggle, "you're embarrassing me."

"C'mon lovebirds," Bradley laughs jovially, "we better get home fast; I don't trust Audrie alone with my kids for a second. She's probably got them high as a kite and campaigning for Bernie Sanders already!"

"Sure they are." Ellie giggles, showing me a picture sent from Laurie, "What crazy kids."

Displayed in crystal-clear detail on Eleanor's iPhone, is Audrie Baker: her breasts squished together and pulled from the ripped neckline of her UCLA shirt, her own panties stuffed in her mouth, and my son's cock seven inches up her perfect, tan ass. I share a grin with Eleanor, and feel the anticipatory wetness between my legs. I cannot wait for this family reunion.

TOM

I can tell by the way Audrie is looking at me, that she wants it; she wants it bad. Not only does she want it, she wants it like Laurie's getting it. Audrie lies on the other arm of the couch, her black leggings pulled past her knees, her thick tan thighs splayed open for me, and her fingers defiling her sanctity in both holes. She's moaning, stretching wantonly, staring with her grey irises from the tops of her half-lidded eyes. Three fingers from each hand glisten with her juices inside her impossibly tight slit, while her pinkies push deeply into her taut pink rim. I growl, and push Laurie's head forward, forcing her to watch as I ravage her. She's writhing atop me, desperately trying to break her hands from her binds while reveling in the nature of her captivity. She manages to spit the panties from her mouth, and her unrelenting ecstasy carries from her voice and echoes through the house.

"Oh god!" She screeches, her voice tearful in shaking pleasure, "Tom, I'm coming!"

"Come for me, Laurie." Audrie moans, her knuckles whitening as she presses her fingers deeper, "Come like the little anal slut you are."

I release Laurie from her headlock, and her back springs into a violent arch of concavity. I grip her by the supple fat of her ass as she grinds her hips into my pelvis, fucking herself as I pound mercilessly into her. She screams wanton pleasure and twists on me; her rectum rotating about my cock as she clenches with every muscle inside her. She's spasming and convulsing on the inside, and her inner pleasure is reflected by the lithe motion of her toned back. Her legs shoot to the side, pivot on the cushions, and drive heel-first as her entire bodies stiffens. Her bound hands press hard into my chest, her neck striates with tension, and her mouth echoes a final, pleading tone of euphoria. She comes like a fountain; showering the couch and Audrie in the release of her lust. She continues to drive onto my cock, and her clenching anus almost makes me lose it, but I manage to hold fast. I pound the last of myself into her, and her shrill tones subside to panting, breathy whimpers. She collapses; her warm body slick against mine, her disheveled hair tickling my face, her dainty form shivering in the echoes of her pleasure. The weak, nearly mournful sounds of her satisfaction leak into my ear, and almost quell the animal inside me. Almost. I reach behind her, undo her binds, and whisper lovingly into my sister's ear, "Laurie," I say so that only she can hear it, "Audrie wants it, but I think she's going to make us take it from her."