Forbidden Love

by Vivian Leigh

  “He probably would have. He was too drunk.”

  “Well, what about you? I put the moves on you last night, and you hardly responded.”

  “What’ll you have, folks?” the guy at the register asked.

  She looked up, surprised they were already at the front. “Uh, four hot chocolates.”

  “Twenty-eight dollars.”

  “Damn, that’s expensive,” Dylan said as she paid.

  “Typical stadium prices.” They both took a cup in each hand. “So, anyway.”

  “I didn’t feel like it was right to mess around with a guy and his sister both.”

  “Do you want me to hook you up with one of my friends? I’m sure I could find you one.”

  “No, it’s not like that.”

  “So you’re really gay, but Robbie’s not? Now I’m confused.”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Have you ever been with a girl before?”

  He stopped, almost making her run into him. After a second and no response, he started moving again.

  “You haven’t! ” She smiled. “Alright, well, if you decide you want to find out what it’s like, let me know, okay?”

  He shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

  “What took you guys so long?” Robbie asked when they returned.

  She passed him the spare cup. “The lines were hellacious.”

  He took a sip. “Man, that’s good, though. Worth it, I’d say.”

  “Glad you like it.” Below them, the game was in progress. She sat and watched, waiting for Dylan to say anything, but he did his best to pretend she wasn’t even there.

  Her dad made the next trip for nachos at half-time, and she left by herself midway through the third quarter to visit the ladies’ room. The rest of the evening plodded along, Dylan studiously ignoring her, and Robbie and her dad talking about games they’d seen in the past and who the Pack were likely to face in the playoffs.

  When the game finally ended, she couldn’t wait to get in the Tahoe and finally be warm again. Robbie sat in the backseat beside her, graciously letting Dylan ride shotgun and have the extra leg room. She was asleep before they were even out of the parking lot.

  Tryst

  AMANDA padded down the stairs in her pajamas, careful not wake Dylan on the couch. She assumed he was on the couch, and hadn’t crept into Robbie’s bed again. As she turned the corner for the kitchen, she peered into the living room and saw him looking up at her.

  “You getting a midnight snack?” he asked.

  “Just something to drink. Care for anything?”

  “Sure.” The blankets rustled, then he followed her into the kitchen. He had his PT shorts on again, and a tight gray t-shirt that had “Marines” in faded lettering across the front.

  “You not have anything warmer than that?”

  “I’m good. The blankets keep me plenty warm.”

  “I’m sure Dad or Robbie would loan you some pajama pants if you wanted them.”

  “Really, I’m good. In the field I sleep nude most of the time.”

  “That must be convenient.” She took a glass from the cupboard beside the sink. “You know, if anyone else crawls into your bunk.”

  He sighed. “It’s not like that, you realize that, right?”

  “Fit, horny dudes, all alone in the middle of nowhere? I bet you guys burn through condoms by the case.” She filled her glass from the tap on the fridge.

  “So about what you said earlier.”

  “The drink?”

  “When we were in line.”

  Her pulse quickened. “About you and a girl?”

  “About me and you.”

  She took another sip of her water, used the time to look him over. The bulge in the front of his shorts ruined any chance of subtlety he hoped to have. “Alright. Your place or mine?”

  He looked at her, confused.

  “I’m kidding. Let’s arrange the couch to cover our tracks.” It only took a minute to stuff a couple throw pillows under his blanket to give the couch a pretense of being occupied. It wasn’t good enough to hold up under the least bit of scrutiny, but anyone passed by in the dark, it would be better than nothing.

  Dylan followed her into her bedroom and let her close the door. “Do you have any condoms? I don’t—”

  She cut him off with a kiss. He returned it this time, eager and willing. His hands slipped behind her, one holding her back, the other cupping her ass. She ground herself against him, rubbing up and down his erection, crushing it against her pussy. Dylan pulled away briefly, took a breath, came back for more.

  Their tongues collided, wrestled. She tried to suck the air from his lungs, making him jerk away, laughing as he gasped for air.

  “Come to bed,” she said, taking his hand and guiding him. He sat and waited while she dug a condom from the nightstand and tore it open. “Lose the shorts.”

  He peeled out of his PT shorts, revealing a good seven inches of rock hard Marine dick. His hair was trimmed neatly. It made her grin. A man that took care of himself was a man that knew how to please a girl. Or a boy. Whatever.

  He let her put the condom on his prick, then slipped her pajama pants over her hips. She wriggled out of her panties and pulled off her t-shirt.

  “Just a second,” she said, reaching for the nightstand.

  “What?”

  “We need a little lube.” She squirted some onto her fingers and rubbed it into her folds. The rest went on the condom. “Now lean back.”

  She crouched above him, took him in one hand, guided him toward her. The condom pressed against her, pulling briefly, then he slipped inside. She hissed out a sigh of pleasure as he filled her. It had been too long. Slowly, she worked her hips up and down his shaft.

  “Do you like that?”

  “It’s different,” he said.

  “Different?”

  “I’ve only been with guys. It’s not as tight.”

  She squeezed herself around him. His eyes went wide. “Take off my bra,” she whispered.

  He fumbled at the clasp, but finally got it off. She leaned over him, giving him a close-up view of her chest. His hands moved to her breasts, cupping and caressing, then teasing her nipples.

  “I bet none of your guys had a rack like this,” she said.

  “No.”

  “Do you like them?”

  “They’re amazing.” He leaned up, stopped a few inches away. “Can I lick them?”

  “Of course!”

  His tongue traced slow circles. He teased around her nipples, then sucked at the hard nub. Just a hint of teeth rubbed her, making her skin prickle.

  His hands found her ass, pulled her down into his thrusts. They moved slowly for a while, then built into a frenzy of panting and thrusting and squeezing and licking.

  She bore her mouth down onto his, smothering him with kisses. He clawed at her ass, demanding more, faster, harder, deeper. Their bodies slapped together.

  Dylan tore his head away and groaned. His cock flexed inside her. He shuddered, panting.

  “Oh, Robbie,” he groaned as he came.

  When he finished convulsing, he lay still, spent.

  Amanda stopped, shocked. After a few seconds she lowered herself down completely and lay against him, feeling his heart pounding with her chest, unsure what to make of him saying her brother’s name. “I take it you liked it?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Good.” She kissed his chin, feeling the stubble with her lips, then lifted herself away. “You should probably get back downstairs before anyone realizes you’re up here.”

  He watched her standing there, naked in the middle of the room. “Okay. What should I do with this?” He gestured toward the condom still clinging to his diminished cock.

  She crossed the room to her desk and pulled out the trashcan beneath it. “Drop it in here. I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

  He peeled off the condom with a pop, and let it fall into the can. She folded an emp
ty envelope over it, just in case.

  “So how was it?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, who’s a better fuck? Me or my brother?”

  Dylan laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t know. It was pretty different.”

  “Six of one, half a dozen of the other?”

  “Something like that.” He slid his legs into his shorts and pulled them up, tucking his dick inside.

  “So you want to try again tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know.” He pulled on his t-shirt.

  “You don’t know? I take your cherry and all I get is ‘I don’t know?’ What kind of guy are you?”

  “A tired one. And one that doesn’t want to get kicked out.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine. It’s not like Robbie can complain.”

  “Good night, Amanda.”

  She waited for him to leave, then flopped onto her bed when the door closed.

  The room smelled like sex, and her motor was still purring. There wasn’t going to be any chance of sleep until she put it to rest. Another trip to the nightstand brought her her favorite purple vibrator. It wasn’t as good as a hard man, but it would have to do the job. With a sigh, she turned it on and lay back onto the mussed sheets.

  Thanksgiving

  FAMILY came in from all over Wisconsin and Illinois for Thanksgiving. Uncle Chester and Aunt Marge even flew in from Florida. Amanda and her mom had to go pick them up in Milwaukee.

  Dylan moved his stuff up to Robbie’s room, and while he was ostensibly sleeping on a pallet on the floor, she had heard some noises late at night that made her think otherwise. The fact that he hadn’t expressed any further interest in a second tryst only made her more suspicious.

  Amanda made her way through the throng of people toward the kitchen. The smell of roast turkey hung thick in the air with the sweet scents of pies and marshmallows adding a mouth-watering undercurrent.

  “Sure smells good, doesn’t it, honey?” Aunt Margaret said when she caught sight of her.

  “Uh huh. Have you seen Robbie?”

  “Oh, he’s out back with the boys. They found them a football.”

  “Great, thanks.” She wound her way through the kitchen, taking care not to make eye contact with her mother lest she be drafted into buttering rolls or chopping sausages or something.

  Outside, a dozen or so cousins were lined up. Dylan hunched over the ball, his ass up in the air. Robbie’s hands were snugged up so close under Dylan it looked like they were doing something really kinky.

  “Hut. Hut hut,” Robbie called.

  Dylan snapped the football into Robbie’s waiting hands. Boys on both sides of the ball ran around in a disorganized rabble. Dylan held off Earl, a fifteen year old cousin from Chicago, while Robbie lofted a pass into the far corner of the yard. It glanced off a branch and fell harmlessly short of its intended target.

  “Nice throw, Detroit!” she yelled from the porch.

  “Oh, that’s low, Robbie,” Earl said. “You gonna take that from her?’

  “You think you can do better?” Robbie said to her. “Get on down here.”

  Tightening her shoelaces, she grinned. “Of course.”

  Robbie tossed her the ball as she crossed the yard. “Show us what you can do.”

  “You go wide left and run a skinny post. Dylan, keep Earl off me. Pete, go about ten yards out on the right side, then slant to the left corner.”

  Pete cocked an eyebrow. “Okay.”

  “The rest of you can do whatever.” She turned to Dylan and whispered, “On five.”

  He crouched over the ball again, and she slid her hands into position under him. Heat radiated from his crotch. His ass wiggled, rubbing her knuckles across his camo fatigues.

  “Hut. Hut Hut.” She stared at Earl, daring him to cross the line early. “Hut. HUT!”

  Dylan thrust the ball into her hands and jumped out at Earl. She took two steps back, caught Pete’s eye, faked a throw, then fired a pass right over Earl’s head and into Robbie’s outstretched hands. Robbie sprinted the last fifty feet to the end of the yard with two of the younger cousins hanging off him.

  “Touchdown!” Robbie called from the end zone.

  “Nice throw, hon,” her mother’s voice said from behind her.

  “Hey, Mom. You want to play, too?”

  “I don’t think Earl could take it if I embarrassed him. Listen, can you run to the store and get some ice?”

  “Uh, I guess.”

  “Hey, Robbie, go with your sister and get a couple bottles of pinot noir.”

  Robbie trotted back over, tossed the football to Pete. “Right now?”

  “Please? The food will be ready in about forty-five minutes.”

  “Alright.”

  Amanda went to the porch and took the twenty dollar bill her mother offered. Robbie followed her into the house. “Let me get my keys,” she said.

  “Sure.”

  Five minutes later they were in the car and on their way.

  “So what’s up with you and Dylan?” Amanda asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “How long have you been fucking him?”

  “What? Are you insane?” He tried to sound shocked, but it came off as defensive.

  “Are you? Can’t you get kicked out of the Corps if anyone finds out?”

  “Why would you even say that?”

  “Because I caught you. I saw it with my own eyes Sunday morning. And I heard it again last night.”

  Robbie’s mask of indignation collapsed, his face scarlet, his eyes wide. “You can’t tell anyone. Don’t even it say it out loud.”

  “Christ, Robbie, I’m not going to rat on you. I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

  “I don’t know. The first time I was drunk. He just went down on me and the next thing I knew…”

  “You weren’t drunk last night.”

  “Well, the first time wasn’t Sunday, either. We’ve been hooking up for a few months, whenever we knew we’d have some privacy.”

  “You really have to be more careful. Mom and Dad are going to catch on.”

  “I know,” he whispered.

  She pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot, parked the car in front of the grocery entrance. “Are you actually gay or…”

  “Not really. Dylan might be, but—”

  “He’s not.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, he might be, but he’s… uh… sampled from the other dish.”

  Robbie shook his head. “You didn’t fuck him, did you?”

  “Maybe.”

  He snorted. “Well, shit. Didn’t see that coming.”

  They got out and headed inside. “What can I say, I like men in uniform.”

  He shot her a look, half-surprise, half-question. “What’s that mean?”

  She gave him her most innocent smile. “Nothing. Nothing at all…”

  er 2-->

  Menage

  THE house was dark, and Amanda was on her way back from the restroom when she heard the grunting. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  She stopped at Robbie’s door, pressed her ear to the wood. The sharp slap of skin on skin mixed with groans. The knob twisted under her touch. Unlocked. She edged the door open.

  The slapping and groaning grew louder. Sex and sweat hung heavy in the air. Robbie’s back was to her, his legs and ass flexing with each thrust. Dylan lay across the bed on his stomach, his head toward the door.

  “Oh, shit,” Dylan said.

  “What?”

  “The door, Robbie, the fucking door.”

  Robbie twisted around, his hands still on Dylan’s hips. “Amanda, shut the door,” he hissed. “Get out of here.”

  Her heart pounding, she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. Snicked the lock shut. Robbie was leaving in the morning, and she didn’t know if she would ever have another chance.

  “What are you doing?” Robbie said. He panted, still out of bre
ath. “Go… go to your room.”

  “No.” She licked her lips, moved closer.

  “What? Do you want to participate ?” Dylan asked. A smile stretched across his face. “Hot.”

  “You can’t come in here. This can’t happen again. ” Robbie glanced around, looking for help that didn’t exist.

  “Again?” Dylan asked. “You mean, you two…”

  “Yeah,” Robbie whispered. “We did.”

  She unbuttoned the flannel shirt that passed as her pajama top. Let it fall to the floor. “We’re not actually related by blood.”

  Robbie had pulled out, stood there with his cock erect between them. He was only inches away, heat radiating from his body. Each breath shifted her hair. “This is a bad idea.”

  She pushed him in the center of the chest, sending him stumbling back onto the bed. Hooking her thumbs into her waistband, she shimmied out of her pants.

  “I don’t care. Not anymore.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Robbie asked.

  “Are you? Anyone could have caught you.”

  “And they can’t catch you? What do you think would go down worse, me being bi or… or incest?”

  She shrugged. “Six of one, half a dozen of the other, right, Dylan?”

  He was sitting up now, and leaned over to slap Robbie on the leg. “Scoot over. Make some space.”

  “I could lose you,” she said. “Any day I could get find out you’re dead in some godforsaken hellhole. Well, I’m not going to lose you without something to remember you by. Now scoot.”

  She hopped up on the bed between them and grabbed Dylan by the dick. She reached for Robbie, but paused and took an extra second to peel off his condom and flick it to the floor. He held his breath the whole time.

  “So what do you have in mind?” Dylan asked. He had a hand in her lap, his fingers massaging her thigh, occasionally sneaking down between her legs.

  “I thought maybe you could finish what you started the other night.” She gave him one last squeeze, then turned her attention to Robbie. “I’ve been dreaming about this since you left for the Corps.” Her mouth plunged for his cock.

  He tasted clean with a hint of salt. Sweat more than cum, though after a few strokes the flavor changed a little toward the latter. His shaft was thick and warm, his crown soft and velvet. She swirled her tongue around the edge of the crown, feeling his ridges. Her head bobbed as she worked up and down the length of his prick. Idly, in the back her head, she wondered where it had been since he’d left her. How many girls had sucked him? The devil on her shoulder wondered how many boys had, too.