Tainted Love

by Jaimie Roberts

  I slip out of bed and place my sperm-stained, tainted boxers in the washing machine before pulling out a new pair and slipping them on. I get back into bed and pretend as hard as fucking possible that the act I performed mere minutes ago never happened.

  It was just a weird, fucked up dream.

  I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling for ages until I eventually fall asleep. It’s when I wake up that things get even more fucked up. Bri has her hand over mine making me cup her breast. The same breasts I was fucking jerking off to in the early hours of this morning.

  I should move, I should tell her this isn’t happening, pull away—anything to stop this. But I can’t. Her soft, pert breast feels too good in my hand to pull away. She makes me squeeze it, and instantly, my dick fucking jerks. I press against her rounded arse, loving the sensation it brings me when I do.

  I want more.

  Need. Fucking. More.

  She’s your fucking sister!

  “Bri, no,” I manage to say, but it’s a token effort. Her response is to force my hand to squeeze her breast again, making my eyes roll round the back of my head. When she thrusts her arse back into my groin, I almost come on the spot.

  “Yes,” she answers, her voice wanton and fucking sexy, heading straight to my loins.

  “Bri, no,” I try again, but I don’t think I can stop this even if she agrees with my plea.

  Her only response is to push my hand down from her breast, and although my mind is screaming at me to stop this, my hand fucking betrays me, letting her do whatever it is she wants.

  I could never say no to her.

  Her hand lands on the one place I have been dreaming about way too fucking often lately. She pushes my hand between her legs, her wetness coating my palm and then my fingers.

  “Fuck, Bri. You’re fucking soaked.”

  She fucking wants this. Wants me. My head still screams at me to run away, that she’s my little sister.

  But she’s not my little sister anymore. She’s a woman. The most beautiful, sexy woman I have ever met. Her body is heat. Pure and simple. It radiates from her to me, begging me to touch her. Begging me to take her, fuck her. Make her mine. And as if things couldn’t get any worse, she says three words that completely render me hers.

  “I want you,” she whispers, her voice thick with desire, telling me her body is aching with a need to be satiated.

  And she wants me to be the one to make it all better.

  She turns, her heated blue eyes locking on me. Eyes that are begging me to make it all go away. I swallow hard, my cock aching to be inside her soaking cunt. I pull myself up just enough to be able to look down at her then kiss her soft, welcoming lips. At first, I go slow, a moan wanting to rip its way up my throat at how good she tastes. I want to give her time to say no, though, to tell me to fuck off… anything to stop this fucking madness. But all she does is yank my boxers down, and all I can do is lift my hips up, aiding her in her quest.

  In an instant way too fast for my liking, I’m on top of her, my cock seeking out her hot, soaking pussy. Normally I like to take my time, my head focused on the task at hand, my ultimate goal of working myself up into a frenzy, but I’m already there. One fucking kiss and Bri taking my boxers down was all it fucking took to make me lose complete control.

  I’m inside her within an instant, her tight walls squeezing my cock as I enter her, and when she moans, I almost fucking bust a nut then and there.

  I press my lips to hers, devouring her like she is my last meal. I’m gone, completely lost in her and only her.

  Grabbing her arms, I raise them above her head, my need to have her trapped beneath me and taken raw overpowering me from the inside out. Squeezing them tightly, I use her arms as leverage to wage war on her, fucking her over and over again while she’s milking my cock.

  Fuck, she feels good. Too fucking good.

  “What the fuck are you doing to me, Bri? I can’t fucking stop.”

  “Fuck,” she screams out. “I’m going to come! I’m going to come!”

  My hips instantly react, moving faster, chasing her orgasm, when my own starts racing to the surface. “You’re going to have to come soon. I can’t hold on much longer.”

  Her walls react, tightening around my cock, her body momentarily locking, then her mouth parts, howling out her orgasm as her cunt clamps on my cock in a vice-like grip. My head swims, my own body quivering as my balls tighten to a level I’ve never before experienced.

  “Fuck, Bri, you feel so fucking tight. I’m going to come!”

  The moment those words leave my lips, I violently shoot my load inside of her, my body jerking with the most intense orgasm I have ever experienced in my life.

  Finally satiated, I collapse on top of her, my mind and body humming with this brand-new sensation flooding through me. I stay with my head snuggled into the crook of her neck, my hot, ragged breath fanning her soft skin.

  For a while, I can’t move. For a while, I feel on top of the fucking world. It’s been over a year since I felt the body of a woman underneath me. Over a year since I gave pleasure as well as took it. For a while, I’m as high as a fucking cloud, but the moment I calm, it dawns on me.

  Your cock is buried inside your sister, you sick fuck!

  The voice inside my head is all it takes to make me slide out of her. Like a fucking selfish, despicable arsehole, I can’t even look at her as I get off the bed and make my way to the bathroom.

  Once the door is shut, I sit on the edge of the bathtub, burying my head in my hands, feeling like the biggest dick of the century.

  This can’t happen again.

  I can’t let this happen again.

  She’s my little sister, someone I am supposed to care for, nurture. Not use for my own pleasure, my own sexual gratification. Not having a woman in over a year is no fucking excuse for my actions out there.

  The best thing I could do right now is put a bullet in my fucking brain.

  Chris’s point of view

  Like the everlasting prick that I am, I practically ignore Bri the whole fucking day, going about my business and staying out of the flat as long as I can possibly stand it. I mean, I do have shit to do.

  I’ve heard rumours the last few days. Rumours that involve a certain high-ranking drug runner in East London. A drug runner, that for some unfathomable reason, doesn’t consider Waltham Forest as one of his areas. Apparently, anyone living here has to purposefully go outside of Waltham Forest in order to seek out their fix.

  I’m planning on changing that.

  Over the last few weeks, I have been asking questions, seeking guidance, keeping ears and eyes out for any possible way to be able to set up on my own here. Risky, I know, but this is something that offers a very quick fix to an otherwise dire situation. I was there for Bri when she was young, but when she needed me most, I took the easy route out. And I have never been able to forgive myself since.

  This is my redemption.

  This is all for you, Bri. All fucking worth it for you.

  I don’t care if it lands me in prison. I don’t care if I suffer. All of this is for her. All of this is so she can live her life and never be hungry again. I don’t want her ever hungry again.

  So I make some new friends, ask the relevant questions in order to set myself up. This Frosty fucking arsehole that runs all of east London, except for where I live, can go fuck himself. Whatever reason for why he doesn’t come here is his business. It’s time someone else stepped in.

  So I’ve been spying on Frosty’s guys, following wherever they go. I have intel on drop sights, liaisons, and best of all, his suppliers. I have a goldmine of information which I can now act on. The big fucking snag in this whole situation is…

  I need money.

  Money to invest. Money to look like I’m a serious investor, a serious narco—as they say in the business. That’s why lately, I have been using the talents I perfected when I was younger to build my investment. I’ve sought out busy streets to
pickpocket on, mainly only grabbing the odd ten, twenty, or maybe fifty, if I’m lucky. Nobody seems to carry cash anymore. It’s fucking frustrating. I’ve been lucky, managing to bag a few hundred, and I’ve also been able to use a few bank cards before they were frozen. I mean, seriously, why would you write your PIN down on a piece of paper and try to disguise it as a phone number? Easily solved for people like me.

  Anyway, I’ve managed to build a cash fund to invest, and I have also met this guy, Michael, who I think I can trust. He’s street savvy, someone who has lived a similar, neglectful upbringing like Bri and I endured when we were kids. He had to fend for himself, find food and water for himself. All the issues Bri and I faced as kids and beyond. He digs us, empathises with us. Something I can use big time. Through him I have managed to set up a date to buy our first stash in a couple of days—something I know will piss off Frosty, but seriously, what can he do? He doesn’t use this area, so why shouldn’t I?

  At the end of the long day, I’m exhausted. So exhausted that all I want to do is curl up in bed and fall asleep. That also means avoiding Bri. It means avoiding what we did. It means literally not having to fess up to the fact that my sister was the best fuck I ever had.

  I get to the door of her shitty fucking studio flat on the second floor. As per usual, kids are screaming, and domestic arguments abound, followed by crashes of fuck knows what hitting the floor or walls. I sometimes wonder what’s worse: this or the war zone I survived in Afghanistan?

  I place my key in the door at the same time some woman a few doors either below or above—I seriously can’t fucking tell—shouts at her partner that he’s a worthless piece of shit. Nice. I turn the key to unlock it, letting myself in, and what I see and hear inside immediately assaults me.

  Bri is standing in our living/dining/fucking bedroom, because it’s literally only one room, chatting and laughing with some prick I have never seen before.

  “Oh, Chris, hi!” she beams the moment I walk in the door. I approach, taking off my jacket and throwing it on the sofa, my scowl firmly in place for this prick to see.

  “This is Adam. I bumped into him on the way home from the shops, and he helped me with my bags. He was telling me about this club he thinks I should try out this coming Friday. I’m thinking I should go.”

  I flit my eyes to Bri, her face impassive, but showing that ever so slight hint of challenge. Is she seriously goading me?

  Fuck, Bri. If you push us to that place, there’s no fucking going back, baby.

  This arsehole, Aaron, or whatever the fuck his name is, smiles at me. Fucking smiles. I have to hand it to the prick. He’s got balls.

  Somehow, something tells me he’s completely fucking naive to what’s going on around him. Still, it doesn’t stop my blood from boiling that he thinks he can come into my house and take what’s mine.

  So I smile ever so sweetly at Adrian, or whatever the fuck his name is, and say, “Time for you to leave.” I make sure to growl and pull my most menacing face when I do.

  Seems to do the trick as he quickly agrees and runs to the door, opening it a little too swiftly then quickly closing it behind him. I think he may have even wet himself a little.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Bri asks. I knew I would get that question sooner or later.

  I turn to her, taking purposeful strides towards her, forcing her to back up to the small dining table we have. Once the back of her legs hit it, she grabs onto the edges, letting out a grunt.

  I take stock a moment, noting her heavy breathing, her breasts heaving through the navy floral dress she’s currently wearing a little too well. Her eyelids droop, a sure sign she wants to be fucked, her mouth parts, a small, but notable gasp leaving her lips. She’s fucking gagging for cock.

  My cock.

  I fix her with my sharp gaze, my eyes conveying a message I know she will understand.

  “Babe,” I whisper, my breathing hot and heavy. My anger is spiking to new heights, but my body somehow manages to stay under control. I take a hand, stroking it down her cheek, my cock fucking jerking at her small but audible gasp. “Do you really think you can let some fucker other than me into the house without me staking my claim? Do you really think someone can come swooping in here, look at you, undress you with their eyes, desperate to fuck you?”

  Her nostrils flare, a sure sign of anger, but what she can’t give away is her heavy breathing, her pupils dilating, and her chest heaving with her wanton breaths.

  “You can’t tell me who I can and can’t have in my own house,” she screeches, her chin jutting out in challenge.

  Game. Set. And fucking match, baby.

  “I can when I’m living here. I can when it involves some prick thinking he can take what’s mine.” I growl the last word like a primitive fucking lion staking his claim.

  Bri’s chest is vibrating through her ragged breaths, her eyes dancing over my lips, begging to be kissed… begging to be touched. She may very well be putting on a show, but by fuck does it make my cock rage to be inside her again.

  “I’m not yours,” she argues. “I can be with whomever I want and fuck whomever I want. I don’t answer to anybody, certainly not you.”

  She raises her finger, jabbing it into my chest, unleashing a fucking previously unseen beast inside me. My body vibrates with rage, my mind awash with scenes of murder, mayhem… anything and everything that involves taking down the whole world in order to set it straight.

  Bri is mine and nobody elses. Full. Fucking. Stop.

  She attempts to move away from me, but the beast is too far gone now. It grabs her by the arm, forcibly keeping her still… forcing her to see the authority the beast has over her. She has no say right fucking now. She has no fucking say at all.

  Mine. Mine. Mine.

  Those words scream inside my head as she dares to challenge me with those piercing blue eyes of hers.

  I’m going to show her. Show her who’s fucking boss. Show her that she belongs to no one else but me.

  With an aggression I have never, ever used on a woman, I spin Bri around so she’s facing away from me, her small yelp of surprise bouncing off the room as I do. I push her forcibly over the table, and she lets me without any retaliation. I should take stock of this, but I’m so far gone with fucking rage, that I can’t see straight. My cock has taken over; it’s bulging, pulsating, seeking out her tight, wet cunt. It’s been seeking it out all fucking day, now that I’ve had time to think about it. I don’t want to be here, wanting this, but I am, nonetheless.

  It’s her fucking fault.

  It’s her fault for wanting me and making me want her.

  She deserves everything she gets.

  A fucking whore.

  A bitch who needs punishing.

  So I punish her.

  I don’t think. I just react. I almost rip her dress from her body and yank away her knickers soon after. Bri cries out, her moans giving me a glimpse of her depravity.

  She wants this.

  She craves this.

  Her body quivers and quakes under my aggressive touch. I’m certainly not gentle with her when I grab her hair, fisting it with one hand as I quickly release my cock from my jeans, positioning it at her tight, wet entrance.

  I slide in, her moans of pleasure are almost my undoing as I decide to punish her more, pushing my cock in deeper, thrusting my hips inside her dark, tight heat. I close my eyes, my hand still fisted in her hair as I pull my cock out and shove it back in. A few thrusts of my cock, and I’m completely lost in her, taking. Only fucking taking. I’m a selfish madman, chasing the ultimate game which is to find my release. The same release I had early this morning. I know it’s coming, but I’m fucking aghast at how quickly I get there.

  Bri is not showing signs of coming, but that doesn’t stop the inconsiderate prick of a beast in me from waging war inside my body. It wants.

  Wants. Wants. Fucking wants.

  Grunts and roars I never realised I could release lea
ve my body as I pound my cock inside of her. She moans, her body finally shuddering with an impending orgasm when I release my fucking load inside of her before she can finish.

  Disgusted with myself, I immediately pull out, releasing her hair from my hand then heading into the bathroom. Once there, I sit on the floor, my body flush against the bathtub as I try to calm my breathing.

  I had a fucking plan. I was going to stop this shit, but instead I’ve met a man I never knew dwelled within me. And all it took was some measly little prick. A prick I bet Bri had no fucking intention of entertaining, but that didn’t stop me from seeing red.

  After a few moments, my breathing is back to normal, but my head is still all over the place. I don’t want to feel what I do, act the way I do, and I certainly don’t want to feel it’s my God given right to.

  I have no clue how long I’m in there before a hand reaches out, caressing my arm, her soft skin grazing my own as she pushes herself down to straddle me. I don’t even attempt to push her away, tell her to stop.

  I could never say no to Bri.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her hot breath fanning my face, her breasts pushing into my chest, and her heated groin pulsating over my crotch. “I didn’t mean to make you angry,” she continues, all the while her body is still quaking with the need to be satiated. I came, she didn’t.

  And I can’t say no, even if I wanted to.

  It’s only been mere minutes since I came, yet my cock fucking reacts the moment she places her body against mine, whispering nothing but words of love as she splays gentle, warm kisses against my skin, making it heat to unimaginable levels.

  Her breathing intensifies as she grinds her hips over my already hardened cock. “Make it better, baby,” she begs, like everything that just happened can be forgotten.

  Based on just her words alone, I act, picking her up and placing her on the bathroom floor. There, I pull her dress up, her moans escaping just from my simple touch. I push her legs up, dipping my head in between, her arousal instantly hitting my nostrils and making my cock twitch. I dart my tongue out at her perfect little nub, licking her over and over, almost coming again when she screams out my name. I flick my tongue over every inch of her pretty pussy, and it’s not long before her body stills, her orgasm imminent. When the need to feel her come on my cock is all too consuming I pull away, causing her to groan her frustration, but the moment I enter her tight walls, they clamp down, her climax at its peak, ready to burst open.