Rachel's Research Ch. 01: Debbie & Phil

I sighed.

"There's no point being upset over something that could never have been," I tried to console him though I was just as upset. "Let's just enjoy the dream while it lasts."

"You're right," he sighed, then added with a grin: "You don't have to stop."

"What?"

He nodded towards his flaccid cock.

"Okay, okay," I pulled a long-suffering face and resumed my efforts, tightening my grip around his shaft a little.

Phil closed his eyes, and for a minute or two the only sound was of my hand rising and falling, wrapped around what was at best a half-erect penis. It was definitely getting firmer though, no doubt brought about by memories of our early days together. Those memories were having a powerful effect on me too.

"I did ask you to marry me," he pondered. "And I did mean it."

"I know you did," I replied, looking at the wedding ring on my finger that had been placed there by the other great love in my life. "You asked me three times, and I wanted to say yes every time but..."

"That was always it," he sighed. "Yes, but... There was always a but!"

"And there was always going to be," I said patiently. "I know it was me putting on the pressure to get married at first, but I came to terms with it years ago. I thought you had too."

"I had," Phil agreed. "It's just these last few weeks have woken it all up again."

I sighed and continued to pump the familiar organ, trying to imagine what might help the process quite literally in my hand, and deciding that a combination of his sack in one palm, the base of his shaft in the other and his smooth rounded head in my mouth might have the desired effect.

I gave him a knowing grin then lowered my mouth to my brother's groin.

Unsurprisingly, my contribution to the conversation was limited for a while, but when I finally raised my head, his cock was standing fully to attention once again.

"There!" I said with some pride. "How about that for an erection?"

Phil looked over his slightly rounded tummy at the pole of muscle standing nearly upright from his groin.

"Feels pretty good," he grinned. "You want to test it out?"

"Why else would I have put in all that work?"

"Okay. How do you fancy doing it this time?" he asked.

I paused for a moment.

"Hurry up Debs. I'm not as young as I used to be; use it or lose it!" he grinned again, nodding at the erection still in my hand.

Without either speaking or breaking eye contact, I rose to my knees on the bed then slowly lifted one leg and mounted his padded but still-attractive torso, one knee either side of his waist, his erect cock rubbing against the cleft between my buttocks.

"Ride 'em cowboy?" he grinned, looking up into my face.

"You betcha!" I replied with what I hoped was a suggestive leer.

Then I reached behind my back, grasped the tip of his cock in my fingers and guided it carefully into the mouth of my slowly descending vagina.

"Mmmmm!" Phil sighed as I lowered myself onto him, his long, thick cock opening me wide, reaching far into the depths of my body.

Although it had its drawbacks -- my middle-aged boobs drooped, dangled and swung more than I would have liked - I loved this position. It put me in control, taking charge of our copulation, moving at my own pace.

It was a position we had discovered early on in our relationship; a special act between us that represented the balanced nature of our relationship, a position which was for me and Phil only. One I had taken care never to replicate with my husband.

Many were the times he had sneaked into my bedroom late at night, lying on the floor, my single bed between his body and the door, concealed from any unexpected and unwanted parental appearance. Phil's pyjama trousers would be around his knees, his cock standing proudly erect as I straddled him, my nightie wedged under my armpits as I rode him slowly and gently towards a stifled but mutual climax, ready at any time to abandon ship if Mum or Dad appeared.

The memory of these snatched, illicit couplings filled my mind so many years later as the base of my rather plumper buttocks settled on my brother's hips. His erect cock forced my cervix high into my belly, our fingers interlocked and tightened together as they had so many times before.

"Feel good?" I asked with a grin.

"You're still tight as Hell, Debs," he smiled back.

It was a lie and we both knew it, but I didn't care. I wriggled forwards and backwards a few times, adjusting the position of his cock within me, making sure my limited lubrication was well spread and at the same time, rubbing my already-engorged clitoris against his shaft.

"Mmmm. Don't stop!" Phil protested, mimicking the words I had used with him so often.

Obediently, I began to rub myself against him more energetically, tilting and flexing my hips as I rose and fell on my knees.

It felt as it had always felt; amazing!

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

The base of my buttocks struck the top of my brother' thighs over and over again, the wet slapping of our previous copulation replaced by the deeper, earthier sound of two middle aged bodies colliding, my boobs swinging, my belly wobbling, my cervix taking a pounding from Phil's head with every downwards stroke.

In this position, the looseness that giving birth to three kids had produced didn't matter; the pressure, friction and tightness were simply exquisite for us both.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

"Mmmm! Debs! You haven't lost your touch," Phil grinned up at me.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

"I should think not, the amount of practice we've had over the years!"

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

I gripped his hands even tighter. Even after more than three decades, the strength of feeling I had for this man was still almost unbearably intense. I loved my husband with an equal intensity, but it was different. Phil was the same DNA, the same blood, the same history. He and I were two sides of the same coin.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

"Yes! Oh God that's good, Debs!"

In some respects I knew my brother's body better than he did, so could tell Phil was nearing his climax. In a very short time, yet another dose of sperm filled semen would burst forth from the end of his familiar cock and be sprayed across my vaginal walls and cervix.

Although the copulation had been very pleasant, I knew I would not reach orgasm so there would be no opening in that pink peach for them to pass through. Thanks to my age, there would be no egg waiting to be fertilised either, so every one of the millions of wriggling sperm would become part of me.

After decades of unprotected sex, my body must have absorbed at least as many of my brother's sperm as it had my husband's, each changing me microscopically but over time, permanently. Though neither of them knew it, I had born both of them children too.

In many ways I was as much my brother's wife as I was my husband's.

But at that moment I was Phil's alone.

"Tell me! Tell me!" I panted in time with my rising and falling.

"I'm going to cum in you! Cum in you!" he responded as he knew I liked.

"Where Phil? Where are you going to cum?"

"In your cunt, Debs! In your tight, wet cunt!"

My chest went tight with arousal. No matter how often I hard those words, they still invoked the animal in me; the wild, feral creature whose sole purpose in life was to have sex, get pregnant and make babies.

"Do it Phil!" I growled as I reach as close to orgasm as I was going to reach. "Cum in my cunt!"

"MmmmmMMM!"

I could feel my brother's cock beginning to throb and pulsate inside me and knew that the first rope of semen was only seconds away.

"Do it Phil! Cum in me! Knock me up! Make a baby in my belly!"

I looked down onto his still handsome face as he began to ejaculate inside me for the second time that day. Phil's face screwed up with the force of his climax, a drier, harder one than the first but I knew, even more intense for that.

I pictured the pale fluid spurting upward from his tiny lips and into my deepest places, demonstrating once again that whatever the world believed, however sinful and illegal it might be, his love for me was as deep and enduring as my love for him and was as right and strong as the love any man and woman could share.

An hour later, the two of us were sitting side by side alongside Mum's hospital bed, listening to the latest news on her progress -- which was good. She would soon be out of hospital.

My heart was conflicted. Although I wanted my mother to be fit and healthy, the faster she recovered, the shorter Phil and my wonderful time living as husband and wife would be.

As we sat taking turns to hold Mum's hand, I could feel the last few drops of semen leaking out of my vagina and into my knickers, but decades of needing to conceal hurried, illicit sex had taught me a few tricks and a carefully placed sanitary pad prevented any visible leakage.

It would be okay.

***

Back at my screen, I smiled. Debbie's story was a good one; honest and believable, revealing and arousing both as an article and an erotic tale.

It had certainly evoked vivid memories in me that had hardened my nipples and dampened my panties.

I took a deep breath and clicked the blue button on my screen that said, 'Publish Story'. The text and all its surrounding copy vanished to be replaced by a Thank You message.

In a few days, Debbie and Phil's relationship would be known to thousands of people, within the consanguineous community and among lovers of incest erotica. I hoped that its openness, honesty and warmth would shine through. I was sure it would.

I rose from my chair with a satisfied smile, went into the kitchen and poured myself a very large glass of dry white wine, took a long sip then returned to the study.

There, I silently raised my glass and drank Debbie and Phil's health.

To Brothers and Sisters!

And to Rachel's continuing research!