Nora longed to simply bask in the sweet, gentle glow of her brother’s quiet admiration for a time. That was supposed to be what this road trip was about, spiritually, before Annette butted her stupid beautiful body in.
She and Charlie had known each other their entire lives, almost. Now, with both of them eighteen, they had grown up with one another, fought with one another, needed one another, helped one another.
Nora did her honest best to not think about what sort of man Charlie had become.
It wasn’t that he was a bad man—quite the opposite in fact. Oh sure, he had his rough qualities—decisiveness to the point of stubbornness, an occasionally quick temper, a personality so introverted that it was sometimes hard to tell (for people who weren’t Nora) whether he liked a person or despised them. But despite these quirks and flaws, he was still a good man. Charlie loved helping others. He spent his spare time at the local recovery center, offering informal counsel to the destitute and homeless folks who walked in, looking for help. Mostly, this informal counsel just consisted of him listening.
“It’s a great gig,” he would say. “I get to just sit and listen, like I’m not even there. And at the end of it, they feel better than they have in ages.”
But there was something distinctly off about his interactions with normal, everyday people. Those dwelling in the middle-class and above always confused him. Everyone searching for some crazy dream fix that they would never quite attain. He dealt better with machines.
That was, in fact, part of the reason for the roadtrip. They were taking an SUV that he had spent years investing in. Equipping it with his bare hands. An engine that he had pieced together himself. The transmission and radiator found from salvaging through junkyards for weekends at a time, sometimes with Nora’s help.
Machines were simpler. They worked or they didn’t. If they didn’t, there was always a cause. Always a solution. The lack of most people’s clear agendas threw him.
Sometimes, late at night, when Nora was deeply unable to sleep well, when her body positively boiled with the need of her brother’s cock filling her from every conceivable position, strange hot justifications for his behavior came to him. That he liked machines because then he was clearly in charge. That he disliked those in the middle class and above because he knew that their superiority was false, that truly, he was the superior one. That he and he alone deserved to have his will heard. And she would cum, biting her pillow stop from screaming out his name, hips bucking hard to the dreamy, lusty thought of her brother as some kind of king or emperor. Her on her knees before him, her fully pregnant belly pushing up and down on his calves, hot lactating tits rubbing out on his knees while her beautiful young mouth sucked away at his cock in front of rows and rows of other, lesser women who were all jealous of her place before her king brother's mighty impregnating cock.
The orgasm-fueled dream would subside, and then she would drift into real sleep, thinking of what a silly girl she was for thinking all those dirty thoughts.
So, all of that affected how Nora saw her brother Charlie.
And then of course...there was how he looked.
Of course there was how he looked. Sometimes it drove Nora wild. If he was just the brother to her that he was, with all his idiosyncrasies and oddness and goodness and hypercapability as a problem-solver, and he was schlubby, that would be no problem. If he was even regular, that would have been fine.
But Charlie was hot. Charlie was fucking dreamy—literally, she had dreamed about him—and over the past year, it had started to drive Nora wild. Twisting in her sheets, her lithe young barely legal body covered in sweat, she would masturbate to progressively more unlikely scenarios like those thoughts of him being a king or emperor. Often the fantasies took feudal themes, Nora thought perhaps because then her desire to be her brother’s property—actually legally his living object—would be fully indoctrinated into the society by law. And then, if he got her pregnant, filled her with his unprotected seed, why, they were just protecting the family line.
And so, fantasies assailed her constantly.
Like maybe she was caught alone in a castle, somehow, and there’s a knight to come save her...all the while his helmet is on, but right as she comes, when all her walls were down, invariably the knight would strip his helmet away and it would be Charlie underneath.
She had taken to idolizing other people in his place. Celebrities. Male models. Trying to push his image down so that he wouldn’t pop in her mind while she came. But every time, as her nimble young fingers pushed up hard into her g-spot through the folds of pink pussy, as she thrashed on her bed, moaning with orgasm, it was Charlie’s face she had to push down and push away.
And of course this only made his unknowing grip on her all the more solid.
Though sometimes, of course, it did not feel so unknowing. Sometimes it felt like he knew what he did to her very much indeed.
The three traveled on, and she fell asleep, more troubled than ever, her thoughts filled with Charlie filling her.
* * * * *
The landscape stretched out before them in long mountainous hills and deeply folded valleys filled with trees and wildlife. To the one side of the road there seemed always to be only sparse amounts of life. More rocks and hills, more long plateaus filled with nothing but air and minute insects and lizards that could not be seen from the travelers' quickly shifting placement on the concrete. And to the other side always there was more lushness. Intense greens and fertile rivers flooding, long canyons beneath them were upon deer hopped from one side of a stream to another, playing in the afternoon sun.
They stopped at a gas station not far outside the state border. Nora was asleep when they pulled in, and must have been for some time, for it was the cessation of motion that woke her; the same way that someone might finally notice they had been in pain because all of a sudden it stopped.
It took her a while to actually open her eyes. In that nice, half-dreamy stage, she was thinking of the way Charlie’s body looked in that sky blue shirt he sometimes wore, the one that contrasted so nicely against the color of his skin, and she imagined what it might be like if he were to strip it off in front of her. Those abs, so chiseled and perfect, right there in front of her, oh fuck...
Her eyes snapped open. Fingers had found their way past her tight pants and into her pussy. She started upward, laughing strangely and looking about—but there was no one around.
There was...really no one around. The gas station was located on the side of the road, positioned underneath a rocky outcropping. There were two pumping stations, and no kind of clerk seemed to be manning the store. Was it all automated, somehow?
Through the SUV window, Nora scanned the area—there, behind the store. Movement. No, more than movement.
She saw Charlie and Annette having some kind of argument in the shadows, out from the heat of the midday sun. His hand was around her throat. He slapped her once, and then did it again. Her knees buckled before him.
And weirdly, Annette was nodding and smiling through it all, her look that of...arousal? Encouragement? Whatever it was, she wanted him to keep doing what he did.
Fuck, but Charlie was so much bigger than Annette. It was hard to remember sometimes because of the force of her personality, and the quietness of Charlie’s, but he was a big, big man. She looked up at him with pleading, gentle eyes. He raised his hand again, and she slipped her own hands around it, bringing it to her plush mouth. Kissing him deeply on the knuckles. Licking them. It was so twisted. Like she was worshiping his hand for striking her.
That was...that was inexplicable for Nora. Why was this happening?
Annette kissed him then, nodding fiercely into his body. He pushed her away and then down, raising her skirt up. In a few short, brutal movements, his pants were down and his hot manhood thrust up into Annette from behind.
She took one hand and wrapped it around her throat. Nora gasped.
That explained it—all of it. Annette wanted him
to choke her. To slap her. She was some kind of sick masochist, and she was the one in charge. Nora felt, in a way, relieved. Charlie was being taken advantage of, that was all.
She really couldn’t blame him. He was a dreamy hunk teenage stud. She had little doubt that he was completely virile. Certainly the vast musculature of his build attributed to that hypothesis. And Annette wanted him, and had somehow used her feminine wiles to seduce him completely. Seduced him so completely, in fact, that he fucked her right there in the open, where practically anyone could see.
From her strange, hot dreams, Nora was already turned on. It took almost no effort to slide her fingers back down to her pussy.
Purchase there was found immediately, her body shifting and giving until pleasure began spasming hard, frequent, and intense from the rotations of her fingers on her clit. God, Charlie was just giving it to Annette. The blonde's face pushed into the side of the building, her features orgasmic. Surprised, even, shocked and sort of destroyed by how much pleasure was pumped into her body stroke by stroke.
Nora found it all so fucking arousing. How her hot young brother was just fucking her stepmother to heaven and back. His hands sliding up and down that tight, model-hot body. Her fingers rotated faster and faster around her clit. Nora was going to do it, for real. She was going to cum to her brother. She was going to cum to watching her brother fuck someone.
She was...she would cum to watching her brother fuck her brand new Mommy.
That thought, all by itself, made hot jolts of pleasure zap through her body.
“Oh god,” she moaned softly. “Oh, big bro...big bro...M-mommy...Mommyyy...”
Hot, helpless whimpers exited her mouth again and again. Charlie’s hands closed harder around Annette’s throats. Intense wonder filled Nora, and she took her own hand, positioning it by the elbow against the side of the automobile, and felt what it was like to have her breath taken away—literally—as she stared lovingly at her massive hunk brother’s domination of Annette’s beautiful, tiny body.
After several violent, hard thrusts into Annette’s body, Charlie seemed nearly spent. Annette nodded and crowed, begging for his cum inside her. They didn’t care who heard.
One hand wrapped in the thick blanket of blond hair, Charlie yanked back on Annette and gave himself to her, spasming deep into her body. It was so easy to believe he was in control—though Nora knew for certain that wasn’t the case. Annette was too powerful, too seductive. But Nora wanted to pretend, just to pretend...
Slowly, he slipped out of her, giving Nora her first real look at her brother’s cock...even if it was from a distance. Huge and shiny. Dripping with cum. With Annette's juices.
Nora’s own fingers were driving her mad. She came, hips thrusting hard against the seat. Her big green eyes widened with intense, unknowable pleasure, her thoughts filling her own body with phantom brother cocks at every angle. She wanted to be filled by him; taken by him; bred by him.
And as she imagined her own brother breeding her, her pleasure redoubled and she collapsed on the floor of the SUV, high-pitched little moans leaping from her mouth. Her body convulsing in blissful seizure.
After some time, she managed to slide back up—to see if the two had been caught, perhaps. Or if she herself had been.
But no. Annette had dropped down on the ground to her knees—an what would have seemed like a gesture of obedience if Nora didn’t know better—and eagerly cleaned off Charlie’s cock with her mouth behind the gas station.
* * * * *
The hotel was not impressive at first sight, and nor did it begin to impress upon continual second, third, fourth and subsequent sights thereafter. The main edifice squatted between two large steel office buildings, one with a small bakery and bar on the bottom floor. The hotel was painted solid white, or at least it had been long ago. Now the paint flaked off in long strips, leaving strange yellow or gray or sometimes even less-white patches beneath. A parking lot sat between all the rooms, gated in with barely enough room for the cars to maneuver into parking spots.
The office seemed somehow older than the hotel itself and smelled of spoiled tapioca pudding, a smell Nora knew well from her own stints with charity work. Sometimes, people gave away food that wasn’t good anymore, and sometimes, those cans of food were busted open on the concrete during unpacking. The proprietor was an old, brown man with a thick horseshoe of gray hair, his expression dubious as he showed the three to their room.
“Are you sure it’s just the one you wanted?”
Annette had made all the arrangements. She insisted she was correct, of course. As if the thought of her being wrong about something was just as unthinkable as her not being found attractive, or her tits not drawing men’s eyes. Certainly the propreitor was looking at her expansive cleavage. After her rut with Charlie behind the gas station, she had changed into a tiny blue halter top and a tight, sexy black skirt. She didn't give a reason, explicitly, other than “those clothes were starting to smell like car.”
But Nora knew it had something to do with Annette's seduction plan of Charlie. The blonde babe was too devious by half. That was why she doted on Charlie for the rest of the ride, staying quiet and deferent, her hands gliding on his thighs and admiring the thick muscles of his triceps and deltoids as he drove.
Their room was barely enough to be called that. A tiny bed space, and then a small bathroom behind that. Thin walls. Next door they could hear the television blaring. The carpet was centimeters thin and had long patches stained with something—hopefully just dirty water. There was a chair next to the bathroom door. When Nora put her bag on it, it shuddered under the weight, nearly collapsing. The bathroom itself had a door that didn’t shut, a shower that was not much wider than even Nora’s slender body.
And, worst of all (best of all? Nora had to wonder), there was just one bed. It took up most of the room. A foot of clearance on either side, maybe, and in front of it the television.
The proprietor, after opening the door, gave Annette the heavy key and walked back to his office.
The three young family members stuffed themselves into the room. Nora slipped on top of the bed, trying to not get too close to Annette. Like she would catch on fire if somehow she managed to touch the blonde’s beautiful, sparkling soft skin.
“I don’t mean to like, try and swim in our privilege or anything, but...” Nora looked around the tiny room, wondering how they would fit. “...we are rich people, right?”
Charlie chuckled. “It’ll be a tight fit, that’s for sure.”
“No, Nora’s right.” Annette squeezed her shoulder. Nora struggled not to roll with discomfort. But whether it was discomfort but distaste at Annette, or distaste for her massive arousal for Annette's gorgeous body, about this she refused to think. “We have to take care of this. It’s not right for us to be all packed up like this. Why don’t you two try to get comfortable and I’ll step out to make some calls?”
On her way out, Charlie had somewhat blocked the door. Nora watched as Annette made a display of herself, rubbing her heavy tits on Charlie’s broad chest and then slipping back around to squeeze her ass between the huge muscular thighs he possessed—all “just to get through the small space.” As if it really had to be so blatantly erotic.
Nora sneered openly. Annette wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. It was like after fucking Charlie, she didn’t think she had much left to hide at all. Her hips, wide and delicious, practically popped out of her tiny black skirt. Her heels had blood red bottoms and pushed her thighs up and apart, positioning her ass cheeks high for gripping.
God, but she looks fertile.
The thought came unbidden, but now that it was there, she couldn’t get rid of it. Annette did look fertile. Like some kind of Greek Goddess, with wide hips and overflowing breasts, long hair that bespoke entirely of a tradition of hot, animal rutting to breed out heroes and demi-gods. Her body oozed growth and fruitful multiplying.
Perhaps that’s what this was all about—wi
th Charlie. Trying to get herself pregnant and pass it off as Archibald’s heir to keep the old man in her pocket. Yes...yes, that seemed like just the sort of thing a bimbo like Annette would do.
Charlie, for his part, seemed to greatly enjoy Annette’s attentions. After she left, he looked out the window to admire her tight ass in her scandalously tiny outfit.
Then, slowly, grinning low, Charlie turned to Nora.
“You still look really hot in those pants, sis.”
Immediately, Nora’s heart thumped fast, up and down from her throat to her stomach.
“Oh.” She gulped. “T-thank you.”
She was all alone. All alone in this tiny room with this big, big man who, at any time could just decide to hold her down and take her and have his way with her and oh fuck, fuck, why was that so incredibly hot to her?
Pinned. That's the word she was looking for. He could wrap her arms around her body and pin them there. And then his hand could slide around her throat, keeping her in place, completely under his control and oh fuck—her cunt was dripping wet.
He reached forward and took her arm. Something he had done all his life. And yet this time, it felt like a stranger was doing it. Something terrible and dark and forceful had happened to Charlie, this young stud who she had grown up with.
It was Annette, thought Nora, allowing herself to be pulled forward. She had corrupted him somehow. Changed him. It was all Annette’s fault.
“And that little shirt.” He played with the edge of her collar, tracing it down to where the first button was actually buttoned—right above the line of her cleavage. “God, your body is so tight. I feel like I could just...” He shivered slightly, sliding one hand down her side.
This was more than just the touch of a brother. That was a lover’s touch.
“Charlie...hey.” She giggled, trying to give him an escape route, that maybe this was all in good fun. “I’m um...tired...so let’s not do this, okay?”
Steps For A Taboo Roadtrip Page 2