Family Breeding Island 2: Older Brother and Younger Sister

Story Excerpt

The best view from the hotel wasn’t the turquoise of the water, or the diamond-sharp glare of sun off endless pool tiles, but Lydia, braced over the fifth-floor balcony railing with her ass thrust high, skin cinched in fist-shaped bruises and the gleam of a stranger’s spit. Or her brother’s, not that anyone down below could guess that the thick-muscled man pounding her from behind was blood kin, not just another horny spouse looking to rekindle a marriage, but rather a sibling looking to dominate his younger, 19 year old sister. Her brother’s cock was buried so deep in her that she’d gone numb to the world beyond the next thunderous slap of pelvis against her ass.

Her open mouth pulled at air, too wide and unhinged to manage words. A stream of drool dangled from her bottom lip, catching the tropical light before it fell in slow motion. It stretched, hung in a silvery filament, then snapped off and dappled a white linen tablecloth below where a couple were finishing brunch. The mother shrieked and then pointed, and now a half-dozen faces stared up, cell phones rising to capture Lydia’s face: slack, glazed, and vacant. She didn’t see them. All she saw was the sweltering blue, the vertical lines of hotel walls and the throbbing black outline of her brother’s fist gripping her wavy brown hair.

“Fuck, Lydia,” Carter said, voice so low it vibrated through her skull, “Show them all how much of a whore you are. Show them you know your purpose. That you exist to breed for me.”

She shuddered in response. Her arms had long since lost the strength to hold herself up, but the balcony rail bit hard enough into her pelvis to keep her upright for him to finish. Every time she tried to inhale, her own tongue slipped to the back of her throat. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t stop the little muttered mantra that unspooled from her, part breath, part sob, part primal need:

“Pregnant,” she panted, “get me pregnant. Breed me, I need to be bred. I need it. I need to be pregnant.”

Her brother’s fingers mashed her lower lip flat, holding her mouth partially open. “Again,” he ordered.

“Pregnant,” she slurred, louder this time, head lolling with the force of each thrust, “need to be pregnant!”