[wilddreeem]

Another exerpt from Mouse: A Sinful Love Story... this from Book 3, Chapter 2...

He didn't say a word. It was so much like that first night, with the two of them staring at each other, one in fury, the other in fear. Except this time it was her anger that was burning, not his.

Michael's hands reached out and touched her shoulders. She shrugged him off, twisting more violently than was necessary. Her feet never moved. She wasn't going anywhere, but he wasn't touching her. She glared at him belligerently.

His hands grabbed her again, this time more forcefully. A crack echoed in the room as she slapped him, as hard as she could. He released her in surprise. Her own fingers tingled with the sting of the blow.

His hand took her arms this time, pinning them to her sides. He held her roughly, more strongly than she could resist. He pulled her into him. She pushed back weakly. Then his lips found hers, forcing her into an angry, unwanted kiss. His lips slavered all over her mouth. His tongue drove itself between her lips. She shook her head from side to side, trying to avoid the contact, but he held her tightly and continually forced his mouth on hers.

Inside she was melting, overwhelmed by the kiss, feeling like it was their first kiss, their first night all over again.

He released her lips, only her lips, for a moment.

"Get off of me, you fucking bastard. Let me go!" she screamed, hoping he wouldn't listen.

He didn't. One hand slid down to grab her ass crudely. His fingers spread wide, then squeezed her painfully, biting into the firm muscles in her buttocks. His other hand slid down the other side, doing the same to her other cheek. His hands spread her ass, exposing her anus. She fought down the thrill of the sensation. She loved his hands, almost more than anything. Suddenly he pulled her up, lifting her into the air where she couldn't escape him. His mouth found her neck to slobber all over her there, and then found her mouth again.

She could have avoided the kiss easily, but she didn't. She didn't, wouldn't kiss him back, but she let him force his mouth onto hers, force his tongue in with hers, breath his hot, alcoholic breaths into hers. She felt his cock, too, firm and straining against her pussy just as it had done that first night; exactly as it had done that first night. She felt the same wet warmth spreading through herself, too. She broke the kiss.

"You fucking pig," she sneered straight into his ear. "You son of a bitch pig, let me go."

He did. Mouse was stunned. He had simply let her go, dropping her to the floor. She bruised her ass as she landed, then scampered back, suddenly frightened. It hadn't hurt much, but it shocked her. And it did hurt. She glared up at him, not knowing which made her more angry, his behavior at the party or the fact that he had really dropped her and hurt her.

His hand went to his belt. He unbuckled it. For a moment Mouse was afraid that he might actually use it on her, intending to whip her with it. Michael quickly released the buckle to unzip his pants and drop them, and his underwear, to the ground. He stood over her, with his engorged cock held erect over her like a scimitar.

He bent to roughly pick her up. She made a show of resisting, but she let him lift her, not just to her feet, but into the air again. He held her against him, supporting her ass with one hand, just as he had that first night. It was just like that first amazing night. His cock, now free of his pants, pressed wonderfully into her belly. She could feel it's heat and hardness and girth and length. She could feel it all perfectly.

It was happening again. Their first fuck was happening again.

They were face to face. Mouse screamed at him. "Don't you fuck me, you bastard. You can't fuck me. I hate you."

The words came out, and the passion was there, and on some level she meant it. But saying it was agony. Inside her body screamed at her to take him inside of her. She wanted to beg him to tear into her.

His free hand worked it's way to the crack of her ass, where it found the edge of her leotard. He tore it and her panties aside, stretching their fabric. Mouse could feel how hot and wet her cunt was. She had leaked sweat and her own cum into the crotch of the leotard. It had already started when she was dancing, thinking of her first night with him, so it was soaked. It was mostly slick with her cum.

And then his cock was in her again.

"You bastard!" she screamed, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. "You God Damn fucking bastard. Don't you dare fuck me, Michael. Don't you dare fuck your little sister!"

Then she was bouncing, bobbing up and down on his cock as he lifted and dropped her rhythmically. He was making her dance on his cock. She whimpered loudly, trying and failing to form more words.

She looked over his shoulder at their reflections in the floor to ceiling mirrors lining the far wall. The vast, empty dance room surrounded them. He stood in the center, tall and broad, naked from the waist down, his hairy legs and ass taught from the strain of holding them both up. Her own face peeked back at her, over his shoulder, a tiny angel's face beside his large demon's head, his bald pate shining in the harsh lights of the room.

Behind them, they as a couple were reflected again in the mirrors on the far wall, then again in the reflection of the mirror itself, then in the reflection of the reflection. There were thousands of them, thousands of coupled, fucking Michael-Mouse pairs, a huge dance troop rocking in perfect unison in a massive group fuck dance.

Mouse closed her eyes, focusing on the feel of his cock inside her. She felt it stretching her cunt lips and driving into the soft, hot flesh deep inside her.

"I hate you, Michael. I hate loving your cock. I hate the way you make me crave my brother's cock," she whimpered, softly now, her voice trembling.

His thrusts slowed, his violence subsided, but he still fucked her. He still lifted and dropped her in a slow, easy rhythm.

"You fucking pig, Michael. Don't look at other women. Don't think of me with other men. Only with you, Michael. Your little sister is only for you," she said, then she moved her head to kiss him.

The kiss was softer now. The anger was gone from both of them. Their tongues intertwined and danced. Their bodies intertwined and danced. Michael was a good dancer, Mouse thought, when given the right dance, and the right partner.

She felt Michael lift her higher, frustratingly letting his cock slip almost all the way out. He held her like that for a moment, before completely and abruptly releasing her. He'd dropped her again! She felt like she was falling, falling back onto his cock. She squealed at the sensation, reflexively grabbing his neck to catch herself. There was no need, because his hands grabbed her ass to save her easily. Then he lifted her and did it again.

A huge smile flowed across her face. The sensation was unbelievable. There was the constant feeling of losing his cock as he lifted her, then losing her grip on the world as he released her. She lost both ways, she lost his cock on the way up, she lost his embrace on the way down. But on the way down he filled her. He speared her on his wonderfully hard prick, catching her with it, saving her from the fall by ramming it deeply inside her.

She lived in a state of anticipation. He played his game completely devoid of rhythm, unpredictably, flustering her with maddening suspense. Every time she settled onto his cock, she'd hug him tightly, waiting for the moment when he would lift her off of him to do it again. Then he would hold her in the air, sometimes for seconds, sometimes only a moment, never the same, so she never knew. She'd float in the air in his grip, waiting to be dropped. And then she'd fall, her stomach would flip, and she'd feel his cock drive into her. She'd scream and squirm and grab him tightly, then wait for it all to happen again.

"I love you, you fucking pig," she said. "I love my brother. I love his cock. You're amazing, Michael, you're all I've ever wanted. You're all I'll ever want."

His one arm encircled her then, pulling her tightly against him, almost driving the breath from her. His cock stayed in her now. The amusement ride was over. He seemed to be pushing her down onto it, trying to drive it into her as far as it would go, trying to bury himself in her.

"Yes, Michael. Fuck your little sister. Fuck me good, you bastard. Fuck me good. Your cock feels so fucking good inside me, Michael. Please promise to fuck your little sister forever. Please."

Her words trailed off into screams at the end as she started to come. She wailed and writhed. Her back arched. She drove her cunt against him, trying to help him, trying desperately to get him even more deeply inside her. She felt him stiffen and thicken as blast after blast of painful pleasure shot through her body, driving all of her muscles into wild, tense contortions.

Suddenly he lifted her up, not part way, but all the way up and off of his dick. He held her with both his strong hands, hanging in midair, just for a moment. Then he set her carefully but quickly down onto her knees beside him.

She looked up at him in frustration and confusion. He grabbed his cock in his own hand and squeezed it. A blast of cum immediately shot into the air at the mirror. She followed it with her eyes before catching a glimpse of both of their reflections. She saw an army of Michael's shooting their cum for her.

Puddles and drops landed on the ground before her. Her hand shot out to grab his cock now, to hold it herself as it stiffened further, jerked and he came again, and again. She watched them both in the mirror. She watched her army of lovers as each little Mouse held each giant Michael, and each Michael delivered another stream of cum for his sister. The last drops didn't travel far, they didn't even leave his cock, instead dribbling down the sides onto her fingers.

When he finished she licked him clean, slowly and carefully. She made a show of wiping the drops of cum onto her face, and then from her face and fingers into her mouth. She wanted to show him that she forgave him, that she really did still want him, totally and completely.

How had he done this, she wondered in a fog. She was angry at him. She was furious with him, and in a short while he'd reduced her to being his loving cum slut, she thought. In a way she always had been, though, since she had known what cum was. She was always his little sister cum slut.

When she'd had enough she stood up. She reached out to him and he lifted her off her feet again. She knew what he wanted. She wanted it, too. She reached down to guide his cock inside her again. Then she reached around his neck and held him tightly.

"You're mine, now, Michael. You proposed to me, you're my fiancee, and you're going to be my husband. And I'm going to be your little sister bride, and you can't ever let me go. I'll never have another cock again. Only yours."

She kissed him then, gently, and rested her head on his shoulders, still skewered by his cock. He stood still, holding her ass and her back. She looked again at them in the mirrors, at all of the sweaty, exhausted Mouse and Michael couples. They all looked happy, all of them. A thousand Monas smiled back at her, their faces gleaming with sweat and cum. She could see a contented trace of a smile on all of the Michael faces, too, but they were mostly somber and intense and spent.

They stayed like that for quite a while. Mouse worried that Michael would tire. He didn't. He was quiet the whole time. He hadn't said a word, she realized, since she had pushed past Jeff and Tania in the snow.

He finally spoke now.

"I'm sorry, Mouse, I'm so sorry," he pleaded, still holding her in the air, his eyes still closed. "I never wanted anything with them. I never wanted him to touch you. It made my skin crawl, thinking of him or anyone else touching you. Even her. I don't want her to touch you. I don't want to see you touching her. It's never been like this for me; nothing even close. And I know I've never been the kind of lover with anyone else that I am with you. I'm shit in bed, unless I'm with you. You make me feel and do things I can't believe. I don't know where it comes from. It doesn't come from me. It comes from you. It comes out of me, through me, from you."

He was looking at her now. She searched his eyes frantically. Her heart beat frantically.

"I don't ever want anyone else to touch you. And I have no interest in that slutty little blonde." Michael's voice was firm and forceful now. He was regaining control of his emotions. "But I don't think I can make you happy. I'm afraid that sooner or later you'll realize how boring I am. I couldn't even dance with you at the party. You flutter around, appealing to everyone, being the center of everything, and I fade into the wall hoping not to be noticed. And I always, easily succeed. Face it, I'm boring."

She pressed her head into his chest, knowing how hard this was, knowing how hard it was to admit his weaknesses to his nasty, perfect little sister. She'd spent her whole life pointing his flaws out to him, showing that she thought less of him than he did of himself. Bitch, she thought, turning on herself. She hugged him tightly, burying her hair in his neck.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he repeated, but as less of a plea then a statement. "I wanted to keep things exciting. I wanted to be able to share you, to let you do whatever it took to keep you happy and interested in me, to keep you from losing interest in me. But I can't. I can't share you. And I know it's not what you said you want, and I was stupid. I didn't know what you were thinking and feeling. I was out of touch, and I was wrong. You didn't want something like that, I know, you only wanted me. You only want me. I know that."

He was rambling, and he didn't have to say another word, but Mouse let him continue. She liked just holding him and listening to his voice, no matter what the words were saying.

"But you also have to know that I never wanted it either, Mouse. I didn't want it. I never want it. I want them to stay away. I want everyone to stay away."

He eased her away from him, just enough to look into her face. Mouse looked up with her eyes tearing again. God, how she hated crying, she thought.

"I can't believe," she said sternly, "that you remembered to follow the rules." She gave him a childish grin.

He laughed with her, spinning her once, quickly, in an impromptu, dizzying circle.

"You're my beautiful, sweet, perfect little sister. My darling, sexy, loving, delightful little sister. And I want you, only you. I want to fuck my amazing little sister, and I want to be the only man you'll ever have and love."

Then he kissed her again.

Like always, it was more amazing and fulfilling than the last.

Read it all at Mouse: A Sinful Love Story