Stepping out of the jumpsuit, I trailed my penis up and down her butt crack, teasing the little girl.
“Ohhh …” she moaned, rubbing her ass against my length. “Put it in,” she begged.
I chuckled. Ever since introducing her to anal in the park a couple weeks back, Morgan had become an anal aficionado, growing bolder each day. I decided to break new ground tonight as well. Without bothering to lube up my pole, I pressed it against the rim of her rectum.
“Oh!” she shrieked. Of course, she didn’t know I was fairly dry, my spurts of pre-cum the only lube.
So I kept pressing, invading that little hole, until I punched past her rim and was about an inch inside.
“Unnf,” she moaned, dropping her head, visibly willing her body to relax.
“Shh,” I murmured, rubbing her back. “You’re doing great.”
I kept the pressure of my hips up, and sure enough, with a pop, her sphincter gave way, and I was fully embedded in her tight little anal chamber.
“Sister, you feel amazing,” I panted, leaning hard into her tiny body.
“Unnnh,” was her only reply as she tried to adjust to my massive invasion. Slowly, I began a rhythm in her butt. My hips moved forward slightly, then back, and I kept repeating until I was in full swing, almost pulling my penis all the way out before reaming her again.
“Oh oh oh!” she shrieked. “Brother, please!”
And I gave it to her full bore then. I grabbed her hips, and began drilling my dick deep into her ass, letting that dry, hot friction rub me to an unparalleled climax. With a deep roar, I came hard into her butt, my semen spurting as rope after rope of thick white coated her anal chamber. The little girl squealed and trembled on my dick, her ass clenching down hard as she found her own release, her pussy spasming and twitching, the cunny juices gushing and flowing as her snatch pulsed with wave after wave of ecstasy.
Her pulsing was so strong that it almost forced my dick out of her butt, and I could see that the panties were beginning to slip out as well. While calming my breathing, I reached down and slowly pulled the wet material from her tight snatch. Morgan squirmed intently, the friction arousing her again.
Fortunately, the lace was drenched, almost see-through, fragrant with her distinctive pussy aroma. Dropping a kiss on her shoulder, I reached around to softly stroke her breasts, calming her in the aftermath of our pleasure.
“Sister,” I said. “Landon is going to love your gift.”
Morgan giggled and wiggled her ass again, bumping against me.
“Always happy to serve,” she cooed, and I knew I’d married the right woman.
CHAPTER THREE
Landon
Fuck, the g-string smelled good. Cole had returned from his conjugal visit smiling like a Cheshire cat, and damn if I wasn’t jealous. Although Morgan married him because it made more sense, it didn’t mean I was happy about it. Every nerve in my body needed release, and I would have assaulted my brother had he not slipped me the sopping panties.
I planned on fucking the material asap, maybe wrapping it around my dick as I rubbed myself, but first, we needed to discuss the planned prison break. Cole and I had formed an allegiance with the warden, who sympathized with our plight. I mean, who wouldn’t? The girl we’d allegedly raped was now married to my brother. It was a case of justice gone seriously awry.
Anyways, the warden was arranging for a ride on a prison bus, at which point one of our friends would ram the vehicle as the beginnings of an escape. All of the details had been planned, down to the make and model of the getaway car.
“Did you tell her?” I asked.
“I did,” Cole confirmed. “She’s on board.”
I sighed with relief. Morgan is the most important person to my brother and I, the mother of our child, and we planned on whisking her away to somewhere safe, away from the clutches of our father. So long as Gerald was alive, we’d always be in danger. As a rich and powerful man, he’d find some way to make our lives miserable, either through the legal process or merely finding some way to keep our little sister away from us.
So the next morning, Cole and I filed into the cafeteria per usual, until our names were called. “Kingsley, Cole! Kinsgley, Landon! Report to the transport area.”
Cole and I looked around, but no one even noticed. Prisoners were always being transferred, moved around the penitentiary system like unwanted children. The warden put handcuffs on our wrists, and locked them, but stealthily handed us a piece of wire which we could use to jimmy free. I hid the thread in my palm, keeping my face expressionless.
The doors slammed ominously after we’d been loaded into the back of a transport van. What the fuck? I thought we’d be going in the prison bus. But as we drove off, Cole gave me a tense nod, and I looked out the grated windows. Sure enough, there was a vehicle tailing us, although our driver hadn’t noticed yet.
With a sudden screech, the van ground to a halt, and a vehicle t-boned us. If Cole and I hadn’t been tethered to the walls, we would have ended up in a pile on the floor, but fortunately our restraints held us safe. The guard was knocked unconscious though, and the back door to the van flew open.
“Come on man!” cried Jesus. “Get the fuck out!”
It was our henchman from the club. We hire guys who work as bouncers cum detectives cum jack of all trades, and they’re more than happy to move in and out of gray areas, plying their skills. Cole and I worked quickly. We jimmied out of our restraints, pulled masks over our faces, and fled into the waiting getaway car, crouching in the back.
The car flew into motion before blending with traffic, settling into a silent ride. There was a tense moment as we crossed a bridge, as bridges in New York are fitted with all sorts of cameras and sensors, intent on tracking violators. But after a long drive, we stopped and Jesus thrust plane tickets and false IDs at us.
“Sir,” he said. “Tickets to the Republic of Cabo Verde.”
Ah, Cape Verde, an island paradise off the western coast of Africa. One of the few times Violet had saved enough to take us on vacation, we’d wandered to Cap Vert, a former Portuguese colony recently independent. The weather is balmy and serene, and there’s a great party scene populated by affluent Europeans.
Just as important is that Cape Verde has no extradition treaty with the United States.
“Come on,” said Cole harshly, “Let’s go.” We boarded the plane after changing into non-descript clothes and sat grimly in our seats. I was nervous all throughout the five hour trip, believing that the plane would be raided by air marshals or ordered by traffic control to turn around at any moment. But the flight was eerily calm, and I even managed to smile at the flight attendant once or twice, trying to seem normal.
“Loosen up, brother,” said Cole, deadpan. “You look like a criminal, just sitting there.”
I tried to relax, pretending to read the in-flight magazine, but knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until I saw our beautiful bride.
After a grueling trip, we landed, and the door to the plane opened to a dry, hot heat wave. We’d definitely left New York. Cole and I were loaded into a car which drove into the jungle for hours, before pulling up before a villa.
And who was there to greet us but our beautiful wife cum stepsister, Morgan. It seemed she’d gotten even bigger since the wedding, and her bump was now visible, barely covered by the stretchy swimsuit she wore.
“Brothers,” she greeted, her arms open. “Welcome to Villa Verde.”
I descended on her, kissing her ravenously, losing myself in the skin at her throat while gently stroking her burgeoning bump.
Cole stood on her other side, protectively caressing her back, kissing her hair as he breathed in our sister’s fragrant scent.
“Morgan,” we said in unison. “You’re ours forever.”
EPILOGUE
Morgan
The baby gurgled, his hair as black as soot, his blue eyes a bright, sky-colored aquamarine. He looked just like his daddies, and reached out a h
and, crying “Mama!”
“Thank you,” I cooed, reaching to take the toy giraffe from his chubby fingers. Isaiah is the center of my life, save for his two fathers, Sergio and Eduardo.
Yes, we’ve taken new identities, and Cole and Landon have assumed Portuguese names to better blend with the local population. We’re all learning the local language, and my brothers have started a party promotion business here, catering to wealthy Europeans looking to spend major bucks. They’ve done well, already referred to as “Rico Suave Dos” around the islands for their good looks, charming ways, and wildly successful business enterprises.
But what’s most important to me is the way they dote on little Isaiah, and the way they pamper me, showering me with love and affection.
“Morgan,” they say. “Come rest. Come relax, and keep us company,” they beckon, patting the space between them.
And that’s how I’ve come to be pregnant again, with number two due in a few months. No one here knows that we’re siblings, and no one has even heard of Gerald Kingsley or Palingsworth. But I still remember … the police leading my brothers away in cuffs, the rape exam, how scary jail was.
Sigh! How much has changed. It’s not that I never think of the past anymore, but each day memories soften and fade. After all, I never thought I’d end up marrying my twin stepbrothers, enjoying their minds and bodies in an African paradise. There are problems sometimes, such as the crazy large mosquitoes, and I’m worried about getting Isaiah into the right schools when he’s older. But for the next few years, everything’s set, and what more could a girl ask for? I adore my twin steps, and our secrets are mine to keep.
THE END
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