A Haunting Love

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

Chapter Five

Debbie's unspoken insinuation about what they'd do when they got home spurred Robby and he climbed the steps, carefully peeking outside. When he didn't see anything he reached for her hand and they bolted up and out of their haven. Seconds later they were in the woods and running, still hand in hand, for the fence. They slipped through the gap as if their bodies were greased and dashed for the back door. Not stopping they pounded up the stairs to Debbie's room, which was the first bedroom they came to. They had unconsciously transferred their feeling of safe haven from the room they could no longer play in, to the next best thing ... her bedroom, the only other place she felt like she owned.

Then it was more long tongue swapping kisses as they fumbled to undress each other. Their routine led them to being naked together on her bed, her hand firmly grasping his prick as she stroked him. His fingers strummed her clitty and she writhed beside him. She bucked her hips, and one of his fingers slipped between her plump pussy lips to dip into her. On instinct he let his finger go further until she moaned.

"That hurts," she moaned, but kissed him even more vigorously.

Robby remembered how that the man had sucked at his mother's fat, brown nipples, and he ducked his head to fasten his lips around his sister's pink one. She squealed and bucked her hips again. His finger felt resistance, but he pushed anyway.

"AHHHHOOOOWWWW," she cried and went rigid, rolling away a little, pulling her nipple out of his mouth with a "plop".

Robby knew he had hurt her, and he immediately pulled the finger out of her. He looked at it and it was stained a dark pink. She was bleeding!

"Oh baby I'm so sorry," he cried.

She hushed him, kissing him more now that the pain was gone. "It's okay" she said. "I think you ruptured my hymen. But I don't care. Kiss me Robby ... rub me. I'm so close."

She had never let go of his stiff cock, and she still stroked it. He went back to rubbing her bump in little circles, but took care not to hurt her again. She made happy noises and went stiff again as she came. Robby felt his semen begin its short journey. Because he had rolled apart from her when he hurt her, her hand was pulling on him as she stroked, and his penis was aimed at where his hand still stimulated her.

His sperm rocketed out and splashed on his fingers. That made her even more slippery and he rubbed his spunk into her clitty, speeding his fingers back and forth as her cum was extended by a follow-on orgasm. The rest of his spend painted his hand and her mons, making her pubic hair a mess of slippery white. Debbie let go of his rod and rolled away from him, splaying her legs wide, and his fingers slipped down to rub her pussy lips, one finger sliding between her swollen petals. He rubbed more slowly now ... just stroking her, knowing her clit would be too sensitive to stimulate directly. He stared at her, drinking the beauty of her nakedness as her breasts rose and fell rapidly.

Her head rolled toward him as he lay on his side, and she looked at him through her lashes. Then she convulsively rolled back toward him and she clutched him to her.

They traded soft words of love, intermingled with more sweet soft-lipped kisses.

Finally Debbie rolled to her back, relaxed. "Is this what they felt like?" she asked.

"Maybe," said her brother.

"I don't understand any of this," she sighed. "But if they were doing this ... feeling like this ... it just can't be bad."

"Yeah," said Robby, surprised that he agreed with her a hundred percent.

"We have to find a way to figure out what's going on," said Debbie more firmly.

"Yeah," said Robby again, still in agreement with his sister.

They got up and cleaned up, and washed the bedspread, which had a large wet spot on it. Then they made some sandwiches and had a bottle of RC Cola each. It was while they were finishing that, sitting at the table, that Debbie looked at her brother with calculating eyes.

"I want to do it again," she said.

Robby didn't have to be told what she wanted to do. Just her statement, and the look on her face, had him ready in seconds. He stood up, letting his bulge talk for him.

This time Debbie got a towel from the bathroom and spread it out where their hips would be. She didn't have to explain that either. Silently they stripped, watching each other. Debbie lay down first, adjusting her position so the towel was where she wanted it. Then she looked up at her brother.

Perhaps his unconscious mind noticed the similarity of her place on the bed, and her welcome for him to join her, to what they had peeked at in the old house next door. Seeing the sex act he had always heard of, but had not been able to envision in his mind clearly, affected him. Biology was also at work in his adolescent body. For these reasons he dripped with anticipation for feeling her soft skin against his, and hearing her special sighs as she experienced orgasm under his fingers. He didn't acutally think consciously of doing to her what Smith had done to his mother. That just didn't break to the surface of his awareness. But he lay with her, his heart full and groaned as she gripped him and began to stroke him again.

"I love this," she sighed as his fingers found her slit, already slippery with her expectation. He rubbed at the lips again, liking the feel of their willingness to move around under his direction. She gripped him tighter as he added the stimulation of suckling at her turgid nips, which now protruded from her firm breasts. They weren't as big around as her mother's. They didn't stick out as much as her mother's, but they pleasured her just like her mother had been pleasured. She liked this new thing they did ... very much.

She first felt his penis touch her labia by accident, as they moved against each other, kissing and moaning. He had moved his fingers to her clit now and was playing with it gently, rubbing in the little circles he knew she loved. Their lovemaking wasn't as urgent this time, though the feelings streaking through her loins did cause her to jerk on him more forcefully. And it was that which bought the tip of his penis in contact with her pussy lips, just below where his fingers stroked.

When it happened she noticed it mostly because it felt so different from fingers - both hers and his. That head was smooth and wide, its plumb shape mooshing between her lips and spreading them more than a finger would have. She pulled at him, getting that contact again, swabbing his glans through her dripping pussy lips. She wasn't trying to get it in her. She too had not yet arrived at the thought of that possibility. It just felt good to do ... so she did it.

It felt good to Robby too. Heat surrounded and kissed the tip of his drippy cock, and he felt that wonderful soothing stuff ooze out of him. She moaned into his lips and suddenly that ooze turned into a rush of hot fluid as his semen bathed her pussy mouth. He grunted with the surprise of it. He hadn't felt it coming this time for some reason.

Debbie felt that hot rush directly in her pussy mouth. It was completely different than feeling it on the hair that grew down there. It was warmer somehow. It felt fabulous. She kept sliding the spurting thing through her vulva as it gave her more and more of that fabulous feeling. She could feel his cock begin to soften almost immediately in her hand, and she squeezed it, not in any attempt to milk it of its nectar, but just because it felt good to squeeze as it softened. Something in her brain told her it would be okay now, now that he was finished, to roll back and spread her legs so he could do what he'd done before. She did, opening herself to his fingers and he began to rub all through the slippery mess with the flat of his hand.

Her hips arched up, wanting more than just that flat hand, and her hand went to his ... on top of his. When she did this to herself she slipped her finger into her sex. When she did that it didn't hurt, exactly, though there had been warning tinges of pain in the past. His finger had hurt her, but it was much larger than her own. She wanted to feel her finger in her pussy, and she pressed with her middle finger, trying to slip it between his.

Instead she pushed his finger into her split.

Robby felt her push at his finger and let it slide deeper into her. She tensed, but didn't cry out this time. He went deeper, gently and slowly, sliding the finger around in liquid, slippery heat.

"Does it hurt?" he asked in her ear.

"Noooooooodon'tstop." She ran her words together as her hips arched again. "Feels gooood," she moaned.

He went deeper and then she sucked air and winced as the thickest part of his finger scraped her now torn cherry.

"Ahhhhhhh," she moaned, but her hand held his there. "Don't stop," she said clearly.

"I'm hurting you," he said.

"Noooooo," she lied. There was pain, but it was pain worth bearing. Her orgasm was so close she felt like she could reach out and touch it. Slowly the pain dimmed, and the deeper he went the better it felt.

"Move it," she demanded. Her hand left his and went to his head, pulling him to her breast. "Suck!"

Robby took her nipple and sucked at the same time he withdrew his sperm-slick finger from her pussy and pushed it back in. It squelched noisily, making wet slurping sounds as it slicked through his sperm. It squeezed that residual sperm into her and out of her at the same time. He pulled on it again, and the base of his hand scraped across her clit. Now his conscious mind drew a connection between what his finger was doing and what Smith's prick had been doing in his mother. He sped up, as Smith had sped up, moving his finger in and out of her rapidly.

She exploded in a wail of ecstasy, her hips coming up off the towel in a convulsive leap as the orgasm blinded her temporarily. She didn't care and closed her eyes tightly, seeing bright spots in the darkness, her mind paying attention only to the thick thing that was plundering her pussy and the streaks of mad joy that bounced back and forth from her loins to the nipple he was suckling.

Her wild movements required Robby to dig in with his finger, to keep from losing contact with her and that only intensified her feeling. She shrieked, an anguished cry of joy that sounded to Robby like she was dying. In panic he jerked his finger out of her and her shriek changed to a wail as the wonderful feeling in her pussy went away. Her own hand flashed to her loins and she shoved her middle finger into herself, jerking it madly, punishing her clit through the rest of her cum.

She felt every muscle in her body tense up and then it was over. She flopped back to the bed, limp, her hand falling at her side and gasped for air.

"Deb? Are you okay?" asked a very concerned Robby.

"I've ... never ... been ... better," she panted. "That ... was ... fantastic."

"It sounded like I was killing you," he said, unsure of what to believe.

"You can ... kill me like that ... every day," she rasped, her throat dry from all her deep and rapid breathing.

"So it didn't hurt ... like before?" he asked.

She nodded. "A little ... but not so bad. Felt good," she said. "Except you took your finger out way too soon."

Eventually, the two teens used up all the nervous energy the things they'd seen had fired in them. They got up, cleaned up again, and again got something to eat. As they sat at the table, munching on grilled cheese sandwiches, the subject that was on both of their minds finally found words.

"So what are we going to do?" asked Debbie.

"I don't know. It's all so strange and weird," commented Robby.

"I want to yell at her ... scream at her," said Debbie, but without the anger that would have made it sound like such actions were imminent.

"We can't do that," said Robby, pragmatically.

"She's hiding something," said Debbie.

"Well gee," chuckled her brother. "When did you figure that out?"

She shot him a dark look.

"Why would she do that with a complete stranger?" wondered the girl.

"Come on Deb," said Robby. "Obviously she knows him from somewhere. He's not a stranger."

"But why would she hide it? And why would she let him do that to our place?" complained Debbie.

"Deb, she doesn't know it's our place," said Robby with infuriating sense.

"Okay, then, we'll tell her it's our place!" said Debbie, getting mad again.

"And she's just going to say '"Gee, kids, I didn't know that. I'll get right over there and tell the bad man to get out.' You really think she'll just say that keeping that little secret from her for years and years is just fine?" Robby sometimes had a way of making Debbie feel stupid, even though she was quite sure she was the smarter twin.

"But ..." Debbie started to yell.

"Look!" he yelled first. "She's never done anything that wasn't for our own good," he said insistently. "You know she loves us. There has to be some explanation for all this. We just have to figure out how to get her to tell us."

Debbie sulked. "I don't think I like you very much," she said sourly.

"I know," he said, making his voice sound obviously too sad for the situation. "I could tell a little while ago when you were letting me squirt all over your ... pussy."

His use of that word, a word that, if not taboo, was completely naughty, and not a word either of them felt comfortable using in normal conversation, was like a slap in the face to Debbie. Anger flared in her, but it was because he was poking holes in all her statements. She stood up.

"I'm going over to Angie's house. I'll be home for supper." She tried to frown, to let Robby know she was mad.

He just looked at her. He was afraid if he said anything else it would only drive her further away from him.

Both kids were home when Ramona walked in that night. She had a lot on her mind, which was probably why she didn't sense the slight air of tension in the house. When she had returned to work, and had sat down at her new desk, a perk of having been assigned to work with the representative of the eccentric and mysterious Nettleton who owned the mansion, the first thing she had thought of was the heavy weight of her brother's sperm in her womb as she sat. Her feelings for her brother had been forced into a dark corner in her mind for a long time, but she wasn't surprised when they flooded out of that corner to drown her in their passion and intensity. She had always loved Robert in a special way that no other man could match.

She had known, when they were young, that what they did was not acceptable to normal people. She had known that there was significant danger if their love produced any attention ... especially if that attention came as the result of her belly swelling with his child.

After he had gone, though, she wished more than anything in the world that he had left her pregnant. She missed him so much that she had dreamed every night that his seed had taken hold in her, and that she would have something of him to hold and cherish and love. When her next period had come, announcing that her dream was not to come true, she had cried even more bitterly.

She had adjusted. Her desire to become a mother had transferred to Richard and she's finally been happy for more than a few days at a time. And when Richard had died it had been the memory of getting through the loss of her brother's presence and all that she missed so much, that had helped her decide to keep living then. That was when she had been able to finally put her brother's memories to rest, hidden in that corner of her mind. She had centered on her children, and had used their raising as a crutch to help her walk through life until she had healed enough to stand on her own again.

Now, suddenly, Robert was back. The affect on her was almost as traumatic as his leave-taking had been. As she sat, feeling his essence lying in her womb, shivers of ecstasy flowed through her veins. She was so happy she felt brittle, as if she could break into a thousand pieces if she weren't careful.

There were too many things to think about, and her mind flitted from one to the other too quickly to stop and actually think about each one. That he still loved her was obvious, but what did that love mean? How would it affect her life? What would he expect from her? How would she tell her children about him? What did the renovation of her family home mean in her life? She realized with true irony that she could almost feel the ghosts of her parents hovering over her, whispering to her, but she couldn't tell what they were saying. Did they approve? Were their spirits enraged that she would lie with her own brother. What if she got pregnant now? Did she want to prevent such a pregnancy? She knew she would go to Robert again ... and again ... for as long as he would take her naked body into his arms. She knew in the center of her being that she could never deny him. What did that mean to her life?

She did her work mechanically, her practiced financial eye reviewing documents, flagging ones that looked questionable for reasons she couldn't identify at that moment, but which she knew would yield their secrets later, when she was more settled. Her competence was automatic, unthinking, as she shuffled papers, her mind a whirl of unresolved issues.

It had taken a co-worker touching her shoulder, nodding at the lights going out all over the bank, to bring her back to the real world completely. She blushed at the woman's questioning look.

"I guess I was preoccupied with all this," she said, indicating the pile of invoices and bills on her desk.

"You'll get used to it," said the woman.

That social contact had let Ramona think of things other than the rambling questions in her head, and she had determined to concentrate on traffic to keep her mind off of things until she had passed the now open iron gates of her ancestral home. When she parked and went into the house, the uppermost thing in her mind was what, if anything, to tell her children. She had to begin, somehow, to prepare them for learning that they had an uncle they knew nothing about.

Ramona turned off the engine and blinked. As if some demented magic had swooped in to take charge of her life, she was in her driveway.

She didn't remember a single thing about the drive home.

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