Carrie , Scott: Down Under, Ass Up

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Ass sex. It is the most intimate intimacy, I think. The tightest connection between two people. And especially between a brother and a sister…

It was the afternoon of our cousin’s wedding night. We’d split the considerable cost of a really nice room on a high floor of this luxury hotel, with sweeping views of Port Jackson and Sydney Harbour Bridge. So here we were, brother and sister, home in our homeland. I hadn’t brought my boyfriend and he hadn’t brought his wife because — Australia. Ransom money air fare.

And because we were eager to fuck. My brother and me. Just fuck. Fuck and not stop fucking. Like when we were younger, eighteen and nineteen. Only a few years ago, really, but it seemed as distant as Oz these days. It wasn’t so easy for us now in America, getting together. Of course, we’d spent our first year there as “roommates with benefits” — as the Yanks like to call it. By which they do not generally mean a brother and sister sharing the rent and the chores and their bodies with each other.

Eventually grad school took Bro to Baltimore and a sexy exotic wife and I fell in love with a gorgeous, sweet boy from Brooklyn Heights who makes me laugh and makes me cum, which is my definition of manhood perfected. I truly love Brian. He must never find out about Scott and me. As for that… Stateside, at holidays and the odd long weekend, when the couples get together — maybe a little too much good Australian lager too readily at hand — Bro and I might risk a soul kiss and even masturbate each other, standing up, with our clothes on, which is nice, I love it, but it’s also kinda like sneaking around as teenagers all over again.

Anyway, now that we were back home in Oz (but not in our hometown, thank god), we’d been fucking for hours and hours. I was getting ready for the wedding — rather, getting ready to help my cousin get ready, up at her bridal suite. The sex had been amazing — it always is with my brother — but I also felt like maybe something was going unsaid between us.

I’d enjoyed a relaxing bath, and I was feeling all warm and soft and sexy. I was rolling up these sheer white thigh-highs, making a show of it for my brother, my ass and my pussy simply aching all over again for his touch. I thought we were done for the day (or, at least, for the afternoon), but — true love! — Bro springs this giant erection, watching me start to dress, which I always find so flattering.

“I really want you to fuck my ass,” I told him. Just came right out with it. Said it before I was even aware I was saying it. This thing I’d been wanting to say to my brother all day.

“And I really want you to want me to fuck your ass, Sis,” Bro replied, grinning. Then he opened the top dresser drawer and produced from it — with a flourish — a tube of lube he’d been keeping in his shaving kit. I licked my lips as I watched my brother slick his big throbbing baton with the magic substance that makes ass-love actually lovely.

I knelt on the bed, my bath-smooth butt raised high above my head, exulting in that feeling of being vulnerable and exposed and waiting for a man to penetrate me. I moaned as my brother eased my pucker open with his slippery thumb, generously lubing my superheated butthole with the bracingly cool gel. I looked back with intense interest at my brother’s wobbling bobbing erection, his glans all swollen and purple like a nice juicy plum. Even with all the lube coating it I could see Bro’s jizz slit magnified by a clear bead of precum. Incredible, the product always churning in my big brother’s big balls! I knew how much semen he’d already squirted that day down my throat and into my pussy and sent splatting across my breasts and my tummy. I could hardly wait to feel more of it being pumped into the depths of my ass!

I wiggled my butt eagerly as casino oyna Bro removed his thumb and pressed his cockhead against my pucker, nudging open the abyssal ring of my deepmost desire. I was so excited, I was trembling. My heart was pounding, my nipples were extended and firm and pleasurably-painfully brushing the soft cotton top sheet. But I knew I had to relax if I wanted my ass properly fucked. I do yoga and I meditate so I’m pretty good at making my mind go blank when I need to. I cleared my head and then I felt that first delicious pinch of anal penetration as Bro’s knob opened my ring and slipped inside.

“Fuck!” I gasped. “You have such a huge penis!”

“Is it too big for in there?” Bro asked, anxiously.

“No! I love it! Don’t stop! Keep going!”

I respect a hotel that thinks to situate floor-to-ceiling mirrors alongside the bed: I was so appreciating the sight of myself, naked but for thigh-highs, on my knees, chest down, as my handsome brother gently but assuredly began pushing his long thick well-lubed dick up into my ass. Bro’s big left hand was grasping my hip, tight, compressing my flesh, turning it from pink to white along the edges of his fingers. His big right hand was wrapped around his shaft as he slowly eased it home. I could see his cock moving deeper and deeper into my warm center. We were both groaning and gasping with the overwhelming pleasure of this new and electrifying connection between us. New found land. The Oz of my ass.

With his cock now about halfway in, Bro let go of his shaft and grabbed my rump, holding it fully in the span of his hands. There are few sensations in this world I lust for more than a man’s hands gripping my butt cheeks while he fucks me. But this was something else again! This was my beautiful brother. Fucking my ass for the very first time! Panting, trembling, overjoyed, I raised myself up on my elbows and turned to stare back at my brother, drink in the sight of him: his slim hips, the fine etching of his V-line, the wisps of blondish fur that ran a straight and narrow course from his navel to his groin. He had a look of fierce concentration as he watched his cock going into my ass. He sensed my gaze and glanced to me, locking his eyes to mine.

“I love you so much, Sis,” he blurted out, with the most adorable expression of little-boy amazement on his face. “I love everything about you. I want every part of you. I love having your ass.”

My ass! My darling brother was at last taking my ass! His beauty in the golden light of a Sydney summer afternoon, this realization of another enchanting passage in the annals of our incestuous lovemaking, not to mention the stimulation on my butthole by the pulsing rebar my brother had by now jammed all the way into me — it was just too much, and, collapsing forward again onto my chest, I experienced a spontaneous and totally unexpected orgasm.

My brother felt my pussy juices suddenly drench his nutsack. “Oh, fuck,” he said, “should we stop?”

“No! Don’t you dare!” I somehow managed to shout, between gasps — I was just as surprised as anyone. O’s usually don’t sneak up on me like that. Not in a long while had it happened — not since the days when I was first figuring out what “masturbation” was. (And why I had to keep doing it, over and over — jilling my little quim every morning, after school, and at bedtime. On a slow day. Rare. Because I dwelt normally in a condition of perpetual sexual delirium. Constantly horny. Mashing my mons against table corners, aching for relief…)

My brother was saying something… “But your tights — you need them for the wedding.” His hard cock was deep up my butt, snug and potent and feeling so amazing.

I came out of my daze and turned my head and looked up at him and smiled. “You adorable man, I love you so canlı casino much. But I have another pair, dummy. I brought these for getting my ass fucked. So get to it! Fuck my ass!”

My brother grinned a wicked grin. “Pleasing your ass is my only end, Sister.”

“That’s more like—ooof!” I couldn’t finish my snarky rejoinder because at that instant my brother started pummeling my butt. I was moaning loudly, almost wailing, from the pleasure — my sounds mixing with his grunts and the rapid-fire slap-slap-slap of skin on skin as my brother fucked my ass hard. He was groaning and growling, gripping my hips with his powerful hands, letting go only to deliver, with a sharp thrilling sting, the occasional slap to my rump.

The sight in the mirror of Bro’s huge stiff slick penis pumping in and out of me was entrancing. The feeling was amazing — a sensation of force and tenderness beyond anything I had ever experienced prior, sexually. My vision went hazy as I fixed my eyes to the image of my brother and me, naked and fucking: my fingers strumming my cunny, my tits juddering, my toes curling and shooting straight again, my mouth in a pout, my forehead and eyes forming a frown — which for some odd reason is often my expression when I’m being especially well-fucked, be it in my pussy or up my butt. But then, all too soon, I can’t see anything at all anymore, it’s just a fluttering whirl, as the orgasm sets in and there’s no stopping it. The world goes away. It’s just his body and mine. His cock. My ass. All is orgasm.

Ass sex. It is the most intimate intimacy, I think. The tightest connection between two people. And especially between a brother and a sister. We fucked and we fucked and we fucked, pausing only to re-lube following my ¡third! orgasm. The Orgasm at the End of the Universe: I came by the force alone of my brother’s cock in my ass. I came screaming and thrashing, my hair a sweaty damp mass, my body beaded with perspiration, my face flushed bright red, my neck and chest a mottled maroon.

I was taking in big gulps of air, panting as I do when I’m interval training in Central Park, running 400-meter bursts. I had collapsed flat on my tummy, my legs spread, my cunny gushing cum juice — a damp grey stain widening on the snow-white sheet… The sound of my brother’s voice from somewhere overhead.

“Carrie? Is it cool if I, uh, re-enter?”

I managed to turn my head and smile up at this perfect gentleman, my beloved brother, asking my permission and — most perfectly gentlemanly of all — relubing our parts while doing so.

“I will never forgive you if you don’t cum in my butt,” I said.

That seemed to be all the encouragement my brother needed, and instantly I was ass-deep in cock again. But I knew it wouldn’t be for long…

“Oh, fuck, Sis— I love this angle, when you’re — unnnh — flat like this. Your butt looks incredible, such a perfect, toned, round — ahhhh — rump!”

It felt so wonderful, what he was doing. I just wanted him to stay like that forever. I was watching us again in the mirror. Admiring my brother’s lean muscles flexing and straining as he gently fucked me, working his hugely engorged manhood in my butthole, all short thrusts and minor adjustments. My brother was so close to cumming, he was edging in my ass, pushing and straining against my opening, his cock huge and hard and all the way in, his hands kneading and squeezing my rump as he jammed himself into me, arching his back, eyes squeezed shut, gritting his teeth in ecstasy. Then a sharp intake of breath, a groan, and I could see the swollen root of my brother’s big thick dick twitch and pulse as he began spurting his abundant warm cum into what felt like the very center of my being.

My cousin was remarkably relaxed, joking and giggling with her other kaçak casino bridesmaids when I finally arrived at her suite.

“You smell like sex,” she murmured conspiratorially in my ear as she kissed me in greeting.

“Oh my god, do I?” I gasped. “I showered for like half an hour!”

Everyone burst out laughing. Cuz said, “I’ve been whispering that to everyone when they arrive, but you were the first to fall for it, Carrie.”

Dammit! I’m in no keen mental condition after I’ve had a really thorough fucking — I swear I lose some not insignificant number of IQ points for a period of time, usually corresponding to the intensity of the flush in my cheeks and my throat.

Then it dawned on one of the Brisbane girls, who shouted: “Oh, my god! Carrie! Aren’t you sharing a room with Scott?”

“Who’s Scott?” asked the girl seated next to her.

“Her brother! Her fucking gorgeous hunky brother!”

“Her fucking brother, indeed,” Cuz said, trying to suppress a smirk while twisting a band of orange foil from a bottle of Champagne — there were two identical bottles sitting empty on the bar.

Nuptials have a tendency to make us ladies insanely horny, but this tipsy bunch of banana benders was in the worst state I think I’ve ever seen at a wedding — or its pre-party. My breathless sex-dazed late arrival, hair still damp from the shower, face flushed from a spontaneous make-out session with my brother while he waited with me for the elevator, panties jammed up my butthole to absorb the jizz still seeping from therein — it was all more than enough provocation to this mob. They had me surrounded, and they were demanding answers.

“Take this, Carrie,” said my cousin, handing me a brimming flute. “You’ll need it. Courage. Because you can’t be as pretty as you are, and having sex with your stud brother, and be permitted to keep it to yourself. We all fantasize about fucking Scott. Now tell us what it’s actually like.”

Well. Here it was. My brother and I had gone all the way to America to keep our love to ourselves. It had taken only twenty-four hours back in Australia, plus a little ass sex, and— Oh fuck it, I thought. Not saying anything, letting them speculate and gossip — that would be the worse course. So in return for the ladies’ blood-oath silence (I threatened them also with the dark magic that is only available to the incestuous) I agreed to tell them everything.

This resulted in the first female circle jerk I’d been in since college: all the ladies felt the urgent need to flip up their dresses, push aside (or simply remove) their panties, and masturbate while I explained how it all started with my brother (in Alice Springs, on my eighteenth birthday). I told them about our “expatriate incest sublet” in New York; our stolen kisses of late; and I described in detail the many intensely beautiful hours I’d just spent taking my brother into my mouth and my pussy and, most exquisitely of all, up my butt. There was much soft cooing as I finished answering their questions, and everyone was red-faced and panting.

“They always overdo the rouge, the bridesmaids do,” one grand dame could be heard to comment, when we all eventually staggered down to the lobby.

***

AUTHOR’S NOTE: “Carrie + Scott: Down Under, Ass Up” is 100% a work of original fiction, although with one costume element borrowed from my own life: I can’t say exactly why thigh-highs go so well with ass sex, but to me they are perfectly paired. If my boyfriend and I are traveling someplace rugged for the weekend (we enjoy hiking in New England and the Catskills) and he observes me packing my thigh-highs, you’ve never seen a man more determined to lay in a fresh supply of lube. If we ever did go missing up in the mountains, our searchers, upon finding our stuff, would no doubt say: “These people were totally clueless about what to bring for basic survival.” Well, I guess it depends upon what you mean by “basic survival,” but I do believe that ass sex is essential to mine 😉 xoxo, Zoey Z

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