My heart beats, heavy. Every inch of my skin itches with sweat. His breath is a slow steady tide washing back and forward against my throat inexorable. I tremble as his left hand slides up, rubbing against the flesh of my tits, and with the right, I feel him thumb my panties off to one side, pressing the base of that vegetable up against my dripping cunt.
This is it.
This is it...
"Are you ready, baby doll?"
I nod, wimper, just once, my body instinctively pressing against him.
And then he presses, and there's pressure, and insertion, and the sense of something empty being filled up.
It penetrates. It retracts. He twists this way, then that and it feels, it feels-
Like a plant tilting its leaves towards sunlight.
Life rainfall on a dessert, something essential being returned-
My breathing catches in my throat.
It feels... so... gooooodd.
I grind against it. He holds me, folds over me, contains me. I can feel his finger slipping up beneath my hood, stretching up and stroking at my clit.
There's words... words spilling out between my lips. Words and sounds and not words. His lips brush scratchy kisses against my throat. My hand comes up, stroking at his face, smearing lines of chocolate through his hair.
"I want this cake to taste of pussy, baby sister."
"Uh huh..." yes.
"I want the taste of cum and cunt and sweat."
I want that too...
The courgette digs deeper into my cunt. The gentle stroking of his fingers grows tight, and the grinding of my hips between the table and his cock grows urgent.
And I can feel it. I can feel his cock, feel it firm and hard and trapped against me.
I'm a whore.
I don't even know his name and he's grinding me-
The world is drenched in sweat. Drenched in the feeling of being connected, being held. I can close my eyes and there's sunlight, and there's his voice murmuring sweet nothings in my ears, and those hands around my body.
And his cock... and his cock.
It's in the wrong place.
Silently, I reach down, and wrap a hand around his cockshaft, squeezing batter between my fingers.
I want to swallow him.
I want to lick him clean.
Swallow thick gobs of salt and sugar. Let him nourish me. Own me.
Instead I force myself to breathe, arch my back, press my hips forward and away from him, and then aim his cock, his tip braced hard against my sphincter, harder as he leans forward.
"You want this?" His voice is husky and quite. "You want Big brother to fuck you in the asshole?" His hands continue to glide the fruit inside of me, continue to massage and brush against my tit.
"Good." I watch as leans forward further, reaching out to hold of the bottle of olive oil. He unscrews the cap, and a moment later I feel it dribbling down the small of my back, running down my crack, cool and silky, even as he massages it into me, as he spreads the oil across his cock.
"You've made a terrible mess, baby sister" there's cake batter and oil spilled across the table, across my clothes, across his face. My hair is wiry, out of place, and there's sweat burning into everything."Put your hands back in the bowl."
"I'm going to break you, you know,"
He leans forward and penetrates me again. This time with his actual cock, and it feels good, and it feels right, and it feels like riding, except instead of riding the horse, the horse is riding me-
"I'm going to see that moment where give in."
That slow majestic pattern... Gallop, gallop, gallop...
My breathe comes long, drawn out and shuddering. There are words, half thoughts- fragments. The sensation of being a princess, of always wanting a pony, of exertion, of sweat, of forcing my body hard-harder against him, and my cunt and my tits, and his cock inside my ass, everything hurts, and I want more, and I want more, and he's willing to give me more, and-
I'm your good girl.
Teetering, like a house of cards, that's all I am.
I feel him, all of him, the courgette rammed further-deeper up inside me, and the table hard against my legs, pain, pleasure, and the entire room feels like drowning; drowning in want, in humidity, in sunlight, in-
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
He's Hard. Deep. Between. Inside.
We fuck. Press. Merge. Intertwine.
There's Heat. Heat and Hands. Heat like a river streaming into my belly, Hands like a cage, holding me contained.
Movement. Frantic. I try to focus, but instead I just rub myself against him. Forward against the courgette, back against his cock.
His voice is husky. Gentle. So close to me ear.
I surrender. Break. Submit. Overcome.
Conquest and desire.
I love the fuck he owns me.
The last few shudders tremble through me, as he lowers me to the table.
I feel... weightless. Angry. Content. Savage.
Simultaneously wound up, and utterly exhausted.
Distantly, I am aware of a wooden chair being placed beneath me.
Brother guides me, and I slump into it.
He strokes my hair. Gentle. Caring.
"Yes, baby sister?"
"Did I do good big brother?"
He leans down and kisses the top of my head. With a spare hand, he tugs the courgette out of my pussy, and I feel empty inside.
"You did good baby sister."
I watch as he sets up the grater, starts grinding away at the sticky courgette, turning it into bits of string.
"You doing okay, baby sister?"
I like that. The asking.
I feel my face smile, grinning, even as my breathing slows. "Yes Big Brother."
The grating stops. I watch as green flecks are scrapped off the plate, into the glass bowl. They smell of us. Of sex. Surrender.
"You look very cute Little Sister. The red on your cheeks makes it look like you're blushing."
I preen. "Thank you Big Brother."
Feel my body tremble. A single tremor-echo of desire pacing through. Liquid dribbles out of my pussy onto the seat.
"Do you want to finish making the cake?"
"Yeah.... I'ld like that..... Hey, umm.. what's your name?"