Steps For A Taboo Roadtrip (3 page)

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.

* * * * *

T
he 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—with 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?”

“I
want
to do this.” His hand gripped hard on her hip. “I want it right now.”

He pushed her back on the bed. Nora fell back helplessly. Her legs floated together, locked in place only by the frail notions of her timid, insincere resistance.

“No, Charlie, please, I don’t want this...”

“Yes you do,” he growled, pushing up underneath her skirt. Her cunt dripped wet down onto his fingers. The sex there pulsed with urgent, aching need. “I can smell how you want it. I’ve smelled your lust for so long, now. You want it. You just don’t
want
to want it, do you? You wish you could have some stupid, normal little life where you get away from me and no one ever asks you about why you want to fuck your brother so bad. Don’t you?”

Nora nodded slow. “Y-yes. I’m sorry, Charlie. But...I just can’t. I want it, I want it
so bad,
but i-it’s so wrong...”

But despite her words, she urged her hips forward into his touch. Actions betraying her true wants. His fingers slid further into her folds. Almost all the way into her entrance.

“It’s not wrong. It’s right. Nothing is more right. I
want
you, Nora. I’ve
always
wanted you. And we can both have what we’ve always wanted. How is that wrong? How could that possibly be wrong?”

She didn’t have an answer.

Slowly, her hands came up to his handsome face, her sex pushing up into his fingers...

“I...I j-just...I’m so confused,” she said. Her fingers tugged down at his collar. God, his skin was so hard. “I feel so
strongly
for you, Charlie. But it’s all so very...” she struggled not to say ‘wrong.’ “...so irregular.”

“We don’t have to worry about being regular, Nora. That’s for the fools. Now, kiss me.”

And almost she did—but then Annette opened the door.

Nora gasped, withdrawing from Charlie in shame. But he just smiled, staying on top of her and stretching up slow, like a panther on the prowl. The almost-act would have been no secret at all to Annette. She smiled indulgently, blue eyes glimmering heatedly.

Somehow, her twisted, sick plans included Nora and Charlie getting it on. Nora didn’t understand it, but it drove her wild with sudden, intense rage that the heat that she felt for her brother, the mad love that she wanted so badly to be swept away in, was only nearing possibility because of her taboo-obsessed stepmother.

“There’s a chess convention in town,” said Annette.

“A what?” asked Charlie.

“A worldwide chess expo. The biggest of its kind, ever. And its in Alder City this weekend.”

“And you want to see it?” Charlie shook his head.

Nora rolled her eyes. “She’s explaining why this is our room. And...why we might not get another. Aren’t you?”

Annette nodded. “I’m afraid so. I did find out why this room sucks how it does though. You see, when I was making the reservations, I asked for The King’s Hotel, which is what this is...but I wanted The Kingsland Hotel.”

“God,” said Nora. “You really are just a fucking ditz.”

It was a brutal, mean thing to say. Annette acted like she hadn’t heard it at all. “I suppose we ought to get comfortable how we can. I’d like to walk around town. Show off my lovely new family, yes? What do you say?”

Nora set her jaw and glared at both of them. “I think I need a shower before I do anything else. There's a lot of filth floating around.”

* * * * *

I
n the shower, Nora tried her best to feel clean. The constant sensation of the hot water on her skin—and thankfully, there
was
hot water to be had in that horrid place—was almost enough to take her away from the insanity of the last several hours.

Almost, but not enough. Her mind kept polishing over the perfect feel of Charlie’s fingers on her pussy, like a curator perfecting some display piece at a museum. She wanted that sensation to be with her forever. And she wanted, more than that, to have it separated from the stark, sure knowledge that Annette had arranged all of it. That Charlie didn’t
really
feel that way for her.

Stepping out of the shower, she left the water on and opened the door slightly. She told herself she didn’t have a reason for it—but she did. She wanted to spy on the two outside. If she opened the door just right, she could catch their reflection in the mirror posted in the minuscule hallway in front of the bathroom door.

The two were already halfway into a conversation. Annette had Charlie’s hands sliding up and down her slender sides and rubbing over the thick globes of her dress in hertiny skirt and halter top.