Mouse Bk. 05 Ch. 02

"I'd like that, we should."

"Okay. Drive safely."

"Yes, mom," Kate laughed, embarrassing Mel. Why was she always the mom with everyone?

The door closed, and Melanie was left alone.

With Michael.

* * *

Mel changed slowly and methodically, trying to prolong the combination of excitement, intoxication and exhaustion she felt. She couldn't believe she'd let Kate leave her in such a state. She put on a long, sheer nightgown, something sexy she often wore for Dan. It hid any unflattering details, while silhouetting the overall pleasing curves of her body.

She stood before her full length mirror, wondering how much longer her looks would last. The thought had begun preying on her when she'd reached forty, and every year closer to fifty the worry grew. Too much of her own self image was wrapped up in being perfect at everything, she knew. She wasn't supposed to have any flaws.

She turned a bit to the side, admiring the curve of her own breasts. Gravity was far from winning. But fifty was coming at her far too fast, and she'd spent too many of her "good" years all bottled up in housewife and mother mode. She'd been wasting a damn good body, she thought to herself. She should have used it more.

Melanie sat down on the edge of the bed, at first almost missing and falling. She recovered, sat upright with exaggerated stiffness, and swallowed the entire last half glass of her rum and coke. After planting the glass on the nightstand with a heavier clink than she'd intended, she turned off the light to ease back onto the pillow in the dark, her head swimming.

She tried to let her mind go, but despite the alcohol it raced. She thought about Kate, her various smiles and giggles and touches. She remembered the allure of Kates lips and her eyes, and the feel of Kate's smooth, soft hair sliding through her fingers at the door.

The young woman would be a pleasant distraction, a very pleasant use of Mel's good body, and one she was sure that Dan would enjoy with her. Dan had talked about threesomes often when they were dating, once he had discovered Melanie's wild, sexual nature, and once he knew it wouldn't offend her. After marriage that had all unexpectedly faded. Dan had never mentioned it again.

Mel imagined how it would go. It would be nice if Kate were shy and nervous, so that Mel could lead her along, but that didn't seem to fit with Kate.

Still, Kate and Mel would get things started, putting on a show for Dan. Maybe Kate would be the aggressor, and Mel, incongruously, would act timid and uncertain. Mel began to imagine the words and looks they'd exchange, at first gentle and probing, but quickly growing more confident and fevered. Mel didn't feign an awkward shyness for long, even within her own fantasy. She was hungry, and she would show it.

While she imagined things, Mel touched herself. Her body quickly responded, keyed up, as always, by the rum coursing through her bloodstream. Just a quick, physical release, she told herself, then she'd drift off to sleep, exhausted. She let both hands start by kneading her breasts, imagining Kate's attentions there. Sparks ignited her body, quickly spreading a wildfire throughout her.

* * *

It wasn't long before Mel was standing at the door down the hall, looking at Michael. She'd already been by once, purportedly to see how sound asleep he was. He hadn't budged or blinked as she had finally succumbed to the urge to remove his shoes and unbutton his shirt. She played for quite a while with the hairs on his chest, even taking the bold, if only playful step of very quickly kissing, then briefly sucking, on one nipple as she ran the other hand through his chest hair.

Her heart raced as she did it. She silently scolded herself, squinting her eyes closed hard as she felt his nipple pressing back against her tongue, while hating herself for indulging in the sinful pleasure, for taking advantage of his predicament. If he awoke, she would die.

It was a safe little adventure. He hadn't even stirred. He was completely knocked out.

Now, at his door again, she held four pairs of handcuffs, with long, shining, large linked chains. They were just a part of a rather large collection she'd acquired, both long ago and more recently, for use on Dan.

She had lain in bed, struggling with her body and her fantasies, imagining this, thinking it through, even as the last rum and coke she had finished flooded her bloodstream, completely overpowering her mind and driving her desires. It didn't take her long to ask herself why it was only a fantasy. This wasn't an opportunity she was likely to ever have again.

She slipped so quickly from timid little adventure to something far more wicked.

A long inhale of breath helped to prolong the start, but nothing occurred to dissuade her. It was now or never, and she didn't think she would let it be never. She'd been kidding herself all along by thinking it could be never, that the fantasy and the silent play acting with Dan would ever be enough.

Melanie set about the task of undressing her brother completely, except for his socks. She carefully kept her gaze away from his naked body, away from his cock, as if she really were simply his shy big sister helpfully preparing him for bed in a drunken stupor, his and hers.

Then, fumbling, she moved about the bed, firmly cuffing him, spread eagled, face up, naked, exposed, and desirable. She sat beside him for a while, caressing his body, running gentle fingers through the copious hair on his legs, arms, chest and belly. She let one finger pirouette it's way in tiny circlets down his abdomen toward his groin. She played with the long pubic hairs surrounding his cock, teasing herself by letting one hand wander so close to her brother's cock, within inches, while innocently playing only with his hair.

With any luck, he would stay asleep and never even know. Melanie would be disappointed if she couldn't even get him hard, but elated if she could bring him to orgasm, enjoying the forbidden act, and his forbidden, unintended gift to her, without him or anyone else every knowing. The thought of seeing, touching tasting and enjoying her brother's come sent waves of fire through her wet pussy.

But if he woke up, if that's what it took, he wouldn't have to feel any guilt. He was chained to the bed, and drunk. Nothing that was about to happen would be his fault in any way. Melanie was in complete control, or so she told herself.

<8 Abandon

It's just another cock, she told herself. It lay, surprisingly small, sagging and wrinkled, flopped against his groin just inches from her face. Her head rested on Michael's stomach. Whenever she shifted slightly, the hairs on his belly and groin tickled her cheeks and ears. She didn't move much. Moving made her dizzy.

It's just another cock they don't want you to enjoy, just like all the others, she reasoned.

She lay there for some time, staring at it, and him. She turned briefly to look back at his calm, sleeping face. She marveled at all the hair on his body. She'd grown up with that, with two men, father and brother, covered from head to toe in thick, dark hair. To her it was normal, masculine and sexy.

Too little hair on a man was repulsive. There was no such thing as too much.

One finger, it's nail long, filed, painted and polished, stretched out to trace a delicate path up along the soft, pliant flesh of his now small cock.

She wanted to make it hard, and big. She ached to make her brother's cock come to life for her.

Melanie hesitated one moment longer, then moved the cock completely into her mouth. She held it there, sucking hard. She moved her tongue around it, as she relaxed, becoming comfortable with the idea.

Without thinking, one hand almost painfully rubbed the area around her clit. The excitement was incomparable, beyond anything she'd experienced by merely imagining this.

It was more than just another cock.

* * *

Melanie could feel Michael awakening. His cock was hard now, already stiff and long and thick in her hands and her mouth.

She felt an arousing guilt. A part of her really wanted to cry, even as the rest of her reveled in the sensation of sin and pure evil. Her brother's cock was deep down her throat. It was the most sinful thing she'd ever done, an act of shame, and act for which she could never atone. One small tear welled at the inner corner of her eye, as she moaned softly against his cock in a moment of incomparable, erotic pleasure.

His cock was thick, smooth, wide, long, filling, even choking. Melanie almost tried to gag, in love with the idea of choking on her sweet baby brother's cock. One long nailed finger buried itself in her pussy, wiggling around, triggering amazing sensations as her bother's cock stretched her lips.

Michael stirred. He shifted slightly. He began to writhe, sliding different parts of his body across the sheets with a cottony scrape, a leg, an arm, is ass, while groaning softly, intermittently in his sleep.

She kept her head turned away from him, so he couldn't see her face, and so she couldn't see his, if his eyes opened. She tensed, waiting for the inevitable, but she couldn't stop. Her baby brother's thick cock was too hard and satisfying in her busy hands and mouth.

"Melanie?" he said groggily. "Melanie? Melanie, stop. Please stop."

The chains clanked as he feebly, half asleep, tried to move his hands.

She ignored him completely. She felt another small tear forming as he asked her to stop, but she ignored him, instead taking her baby brother's cock completely into her mouth and down her throat in one swift, over eager motion. She might have choked, another time, trying to take him so spontaneously, but not now. She was too drunk, too practiced, and too intent.

"Mel..."

She released him with her mouth, closing her eyes, focusing now on the feel of the hard, silky thickness of his cock in her hand.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I'm so sorry. I am. But I can't stop."

Then his cock was in her mouth again. He'd started to protest. He'd gotten the first sounds of her name out as she descended on him with the fire of a big sister's experienced, loving mouth. His words died in his own throat as his cock came alive in hers.

She lowered herself onto him three times in succession, each time taking his cock all the way down her throat, so her lips kissed the pubic hairs at its base. She did it three quick, satisfying, times, frantically fucking her brother's cock with the hot, wet flesh of his big sister's mouth and throat, before releasing him again.

She felt tears welling in both eyes now. The guilt was strong. The feeling of sin was strong. Part of her didn't know how Mouse did it, how she could commit such a sinful, universally reviled act. It was hard, it was painful, and yet she couldn't stop. Melanie knew better, but she couldn't stop.

"I'm sorry, Michael," she whimpered to him. Even the whimper came out slurred. She fought back the drunken fog, and the tears, before she continued. All the while her lips and tongue frantically raced over his cock, frenetically wetting and tasting every inch she could, as if she might run out of time.

"I won't hurt you, Michael. I promise, I won't hurt you. But I have to. Your cock is here and I have to. I'm sorry."

"Please..."

The word was lost in the recesses of Melanie's mind as soon as his cock was inside her again. She held it deep down her throat, then dared to move her head around, not up and down, but side to side, half twisting, moving his cock inside her any way she could without letting an inch of it free.

"Melanie, please stop."

She pulled back, reluctantly, to speak to him again, to sooth the poor, tortured boy.

"Sh, Michael, sh. Be still. Sh. Melanie will make it all right. Sh."

"Mel..."

His words cut off again, replaced by stifled moans, as he endured, but now clearly enjoyed what she was doing to him. He liked it. She knew he liked it. With that thought in her mind, she redoubled her attack. She fed on him, hungrily trying to bring her baby brother to orgasm, to draw his cum into her waiting, loving mouth.

* * *

Michael was in shock as he felt his big sister assaulting his cock. He didn't want to enjoy it. He didn't want it to excite him. But it did. God help him, it did, and she did.

The trumpeting sound of Melanie's rapturous, hungry moans stunned Michael. His big sister had a bedroom demeanor that surprised and shocked him. Only Mouse, with all of her purposely incestuous talk, came close to making the noises that Melanie made. Except that almost all of Melanie's sounds were incoherent, made with his cock constantly in her mouth and down her surprisingly talented throat.

She moaned loudly. He could feel the moans in his cock. It vibrated with the feel of her moans coursing through it, like a pipe in a church organ. The feeling was exquisite. Even as he fought to control his own desires, he prayed for her to moan again for him.

Michael tried not to enjoy the feel of her soft, large breasts pressing against the side of his hip. He looked down at the top of her head, held momentarily steady, holding his rigid cock stabbed deep down into her throat. He glanced up a the cuffs again, hoping that this time, feeling a little less drunk and a little more alert, that he'd see a way out.

He looked back down in frustration as Melanie released his cock from her burning mouth. He half stifled a moan of pleasure as she descended on him again. His eyes squinted closed.

He'd never wanted this. He certainly had considered it, creating fantasies, long before he and Mouse had discovered each other, but he had stopped wanting it, and certainly didn't now.

He told himself this even as he visualized himself coming for Melanie, pouring incestuous, sexual love into her mouth. He languished in the sinful feel of his big sister's mouth on his cock, losing himself, and his will to do anything but succumb to the pleasure.

Her body, her sounds, her lips, her tongue, her style were all so different from Mouse. His cock came alive within her throat.

Melanie stopped for a moment, rolling over to face him while holding his cock in one hand. She gazed at him in a cloudy stupor, her angular, exquisite face just inches from his hard, glistening cock, her expression cloaked with a drunken, lust filled fog.

She was so beautiful.

"Your cock is so wonderful, Michael. Almost as wonderful as your cum will be."

The words came out as a half whimper, like a guilty admission.

"I'm sorry, but I need your cum. I love cum, Michael. I'm sorry I love cum."

Her tongue, glistening, flicked out to trace the ridge of his cock, near the base. Her eyes, dark, pupils dilated wide and black, were locked on his.

"I don't want you to despise me, Michael. I want you to respect me. But I love cum."

She seemed slightly more sober now, more coherent. Her eyes were warm, but stern and determined.

"I really love it, Michael. Even yours. Especially yours. I'm going to love tasting every drop of your cum, Michael. I'm going to play with it in my mouth. I'm going to savor it. I want you to watch me take it, too, Michael. I want you to see how much love I have for all of the cum you can give to me."

As she spoke, she rubbed his cock hard across her face. Her lips reached out to kiss it, even as she spoke. She seemed to be battling with herself to hold her lips back long enough to finish her words. She kissed and licked his cock throughout her declaration, barely restraining herself long enough to finish.

She held his cock alongside her nose, peaking past it with smoldering eyes. He recognized that nose. It was hers. It was his. It was the family nose. Melanie looked so much like him. They were so alike in so many ways. There was no forgetting that she was his sister.

"I'm so sorry, Michael. I have to. You have to understand. You have to give me all of your cum. All of it."

Then the burning, enslaving, impossible to ignore feel of his big sister's mouth was on him again.

* * *

Michael was lasting forever, and Melanie was loving it. She didn't know if it was the alcohol left in his system, or if he was actively fighting her, trying not to come. She liked that thought. She liked the idea of him fighting to hold back, resisting her, trying to defy his big sister as she labored to please him, urging the cum up out of his cock like a witch calling forth a demon from hell. She loved the thought that, no matter how hard he fought, he would come for her.

He couldn't resist forever, and he did love it. The stiffness of his cock betrayed him. The more he resisted, the more generous her brother's gift to her would be. Melanie was driving herself insane, imagining how much cum her baby brother was going to give to her.

Melanie let his cock slip from her mouth to speak to him. Her voice was raspy, her throat burned by the alcohol, and it's rasping, too aggressive forays onto his thick cock.

"In college, I had a nickname, Michael. I hated it, back then."

Melanie paused to take him into her mouth again. She couldn't keep his cock out of her mouth for long. It felt and tasted too good. She held it in her hot mouth a while before making herself pause, eventually, to continue telling to her brother who and what she really was.

"They called me ‘Six-Pack', Michael. You know that. I cried to you about it. You thought it was because I was so close to six feet tall, or because I was stacked. Everyone thought that."

She paused again, so she could swallow him whole, marveling in the sweet, guttural sound of the suppressed groan she drew from him. She wished he would let loose. She wished he would stop fighting her.

"The truth was, I got too drunk at a frat party. I always did, Michael. I got drunk a lot. And I always got into trouble with men when I was drunk."

She tried hard not to slur the words, to hide how drunk she still felt right now. In the recesses of her mind it occurred to her that she might have a real problem with alcohol. The humor in that thought made her giggle, as she held her brother's cock gently in one hand, just millimeters from her lips. Her tongue licked the length of his shaft.

"I got very drunk at a party. Hell, I got very drunk at every party. But this one party I got so drunk that I just ripped at a guys pants in front of everyone. He was so cute. I couldn't wait. I didn't ask. I took what I wanted. I sucked him off in front of all the others, right in the common room."

As if to demonstrate, she descended on him again. He writhed beneath her, tensing every muscle in his body, while groaning loudly. Melanie smiled as his body finally relaxed, panting, but only when she had released his cock from its incestuous prison.

"I was embarrassed at first, but I couldn't stop. And I liked the fact that they were all watching me. I loved the attention. They cheered me on. It was demeaning, degrading, but I loved the catcalls, I loved the encouragement, I loved the sound of shock mixed with pure lust and desire in their voices. I can still hear the cheers that erupted when he finally came in my mouth and on my face and hair, in front of all of them."

"Melanie, don't tell me this."

His plea stung her unexpected. The sound of his voice, his words, took her out of the moment. For that one instance, she was his big sister, and he her baby brother, and they were mature, rational adults, not engaged in a sinful, incestuous rape.

But she had to continue. After all these years she had to tell someone. She had to tell him. But first, she silenced him by taking his cock again deeply down her throat. This time his hips bucked up off of the mattress, gently, subtly, restrained, but very obviously fucking her mouth.

She enjoyed the feel of his actions, his willing involvement, before pulling her mouth from him. She held his cock to her face, marveling at how much harder it was than Dan's, enjoying the silky feel of its taut skin. She kissed and licked it, then held it tightly again to her cheek. Right now, it was her cock, not her brother's, hers.