Dec 24th 2008: the McLeod House, a small town in the American Midwest
I stopped in the doorway when I saw her. She was sitting at the kitchen table with our baby in her arms, gently holding her daughters head as the baby's lips hungrily sucked at her fat teat. Involuntarily my tongue slipped between my teeth and started to lick my lips in anticipation. Of course she sensed my presence.
"Hi you," she welcomed as she looked back over her shoulder with a broad smile on her face. I slowly walked over to her and put my arm around her shoulder.
"Leave some for me Sophie," I instructed my baby daughter softly as I lightly tweaked her nose.
"Oh no you don't, not today," the woman I loved more than anything in the world replied, shaking her head as a sly smile crossed her lips.
"I'm starving Abby," I growled as I chomped my teeth together. I slipped my palm onto the breast our baby wasn't suckling at.
"Stop that," she ordered as she flicked my fingers away just as a drop of milk appeared at the end of her nipple.
"You got lots mommy," I said as I put my finger to her lips.
"Not today!" she insisted, then lifted our sated daughter from her chest and held her out to me. "Sophie needs burping," she instructed as I took my baby into my arms.
"Yes little momma," I agreed as I sat down at the table and brought my daughter to my chest and started to lightly pat her back. "Later," I promised with a leer as I watched Abigail across the table. She'd left her breasts bared and was clearly in no hurry to cover them up. Fortunately we were the only McLeod's home that afternoon.
"They're beautiful," I complimented as I watched a droplet of milk as it first formed, and then fell from her left nipple.
"They're too big," my sister complained as she placed her palms under her breasts and lifted them.
"Let daddy have a little suck," I pled teasingly.
"NO! We can't. We've got work to do."
"Work? What work? It's the holidays."
"Guess who Gran has appointed as the official Christmas Egg Nog preparer in the McLeod household this year?" my sister asked.
"You?" I asked, the astonishment clear in my voice. "Does Gramps know?" Abigail Katherine McLeod smiled back at me proudly. "But do you know how to ... I mean do you," I started, but then stopped when I saw the look of warning in my sister's eyes.
"Well Mister know-it-all Robert Duncan McLeod," my sister said sarcastically in her thickest Scottish accent, "do you believe the mother of your child is incapable of preparing a simple drink for her family?"
You fool, I chastised myself silently as I delayed answering my sister, instead I lifted our daughter from my chest and gently placed her in her bassinet.
"Someone as extraordinarily talented as you shouldn't waste her time on such mundane tasks," I said in an effort to escape her wrath when I finally looked back up at my sister.
"Yeah right, maybe I'll tell mom and grams that you think they should be doing the 'mundane' household chores while I solve all the world's problems." We were both teasing now and knew it; we loved each other so much it almost hurt.
"And you're helping too," sis ordered as she stood up and walked towards the refrigerator.
"Oh no I'm not ... you're just looking for someone to blame if it turns out bad," I declined as I watched as my sister filled the table with ingredients and bowls and stuff. She still hadn't covered her breasts.
"You're the assistant chef today big boy," Abby answered sweetly. But it was the kind of sweet tone that had a steel order behind it.
"Yes dear," I agreed mockingly, then asked, "Is there a recipe or something?" I knew immediately the question was a mistake. Once sis got going she could be dangerous.
"Are you asking if there's a recipe for your great, great, great, great grandmother's famous McLeod family egg nog? A concoction first prepared in a humble croft deep in the Scottish highlands," Abby demanded haughtily.
"Sorry," I mumbled quietly, hoping to stem my sister's oratory. I loved her but she sure loved to talk!
My sister picked up a sheet of paper from the counter and handed it to me. The recipe! "Of course each new McLeod who is honored to prepare this Christmas drink is required to add her own special ingredient," Abby said as she placed a bowl on the table in front of me.
"She is?" I asked stupidly as my eyes darted back to the list of ingredients — I read:
McLeod Egg Nog: Ingredients for 8 servings
Fresh Eggs (separated yolks/whites) - 6
Sugar — ¾ cup
White Rum — 1 cup
Milk — 3 pints
Heavy Whipping Cream — 1 cup
Single Malt Scotch Whiskey — 1 ½ cups
- Separate eggs into yolks and whites and put in separate bowls
- Beat yolks with half of the sugar
- Beat egg-whites until stiff, then add in the rest of the sugar
- Mix the yolks and whites together
- Add rum to mixture slowly
- Stir in the milk
- Stir in the Scotch
- Stir in one half of the cream
- Whip the rest of the cream and then fold in carefully
- Add a pinch of vanilla and cinnamon
- Serve at room temperature by ladling egg nog into cups and then sprinkle nutmeg on top
"This looks easy," I finally said after studying the list. "We don't even have to cook anything. Let's get going," I urged, now eager to finish the job quickly and then get back to my sisters breasts. Which she still hadn't covered! "What's your special ingredient anyway?"
"It's a secret," my sister answered with a shake of her head. She then proceeded to sit on my lap, placing herself so that her back was against my chest. "And we're not following the recipe exactly."
"Stop fooling around, let's get this stuff prepared," I grumbled even as my hands circled Abby's waist and then slowly moved upward until they were cupping her tits.
"Look who's fooling around now," my sister teased as she leaned her head back so that my face was engulfed in her long, silken tresses. My fingers started to squeeze and caress the heavy, milk laden globes. Abby groaned as a first thick stream of milk arced out from her left breast.
"Into the bowl ... milk me into the bowl," Abby demanded as her body squirmed in my lap.
"Huh? What bowl?" I asked about three seconds before I realized what my sisters 'special' egg nog ingredient was going to be. "You're crazy! They'll kill you ... Grandpa will go crazy," I stammered even as I saw the beauty and humor of Abby's plan.
"They'll never know," my sister said, "unless, of course, the young scion of McLeod Manor can't keep his big mouth shut. The next Master McLeod," she added laughing.
"I won't be that for a long time," I said softly into my sister's ear even while knowing it might happen any day.
"Master Robert McLeod of Cock Lomond," my sister teased as she reached between her legs and squeezed my penis.
"We're Americans you fool, have been for five generations," I scoffed, then kissed my sister's cheek.
"Lord Robert with the biggest Scottish caber in America," Abby added as she lowered my zipper and freed my pole.
I didn't answer, instead I turned back to the task at hand and started to milk my sister seriously. Like a farmer on a stool next to his prize cow I alternatively pulled and squeezed and pumped stream after stream of fresh McLeod milk into the bowl Abby had positioned in front of herself.
Abby's soft, little hand then started to pump me in time with my milking of her breasts. "Do you like having your caber tossed Master McLeod," my sister teased.
As if she didn't know! "How much do we need," I finally asked after I'd half filled the container.
"That should be enough with the other I've got," she said as a last stream of milk splashed into the bowl.
"What other?" I asked as she slipped down off my lap.
"I got some last night ... refrigerated it, we needed three pints," she said as she knelt between my legs.
"Shouldn't we do the egg nog first?" I asked as I felt the first moist touch of her tongue on the end of my penis.
"Later," she said and then with her eyes locked on mine she slowly swallowed me. I felt her fingers close around my balls as her head started to bob. Her other hand continued to pump my shaft into her hungry mouth.
"Oh jesus baby ... I'm going to cum ... don't stop," I begged minutes later when her lips suddenly released me.
"Are you close?" Abby asked as she looked up. One on her hands was firmly circling the thick base of my penis. The other released my balls.
"Abby!" I groaned in need as her tongue licked off a drop of pre cum. I could feel the inexorable pressure of an imminent ejaculation building as her lips again slipped over my cockhead.
"Fuck!" I cried when she released me again. "In your mouth ... I want to cum in your mouth ... hurry," I demanded as I reached for my sister's head.
"Oh no you don't," Abby answered as she tightened her fingers around the base of my cock, stopping the first spurting stream from rushing up my shaft. I moaned as she half turned and grabbed a measuring cup from the table and then quickly placed its open end over my erection. Then she released her hold on my now throbbing prick!
"Are you nuts? Why?" I asked as I watched first one, then a second, thick stream of creamy cum splash into the cup.
"Everyone, and I mean everyone, who helps prepare the egg nog is obligated to contribute their own secret ingredient my dear brother," my sister answered as she continued to milk my cock. "It's one of the McLeod Golden Rules."
"You're going to put my cum in Granddad's egg nog? Grandma's? Mom's? Are you crazy?" I stammered as the last orgasmic jerk of my cock spat out a last string of pearly white cum into the cup.
"Not bad ... half a cup," Abby answered as she held the cup up to her eyes and inspected my creamy handiwork. "Once more and we'll have enough."
"No, N ... O," I refused, then watched as my sister dipped her finger into my sauce and captured a sticky drop on the end of her finger and slowly brought it to her mouth.
"Mmmmmm good, yummy, yummy," she said after licking her finger clean. "Want some?" she offered.
"We are not serving my mother my cum and that's final!"
"It'll be good for her," my nutty sister argued with a straight face. "And good for Aunt Maggie too. Can you imagine her having to swallow Uncle Darryl all these years?" she asked in a tone of disgust.
Both of us hated Uncle Darryl, in fact it had grown into active loathing on our parts over the last year. "Well, maybe you can put some in his," I conceded, "but not in mom's and not in gramps or grans."
"I read that it's good for old people ... it's full of proteins and vitamins and beta blockers and carotene and who knows what else," my sister argued.
"Yeah right," I scoffed. "What about the girls ... they're only," I started.
"Of course they're too young ... are you crazy? We'll give them virgin egg nogs," she answered, referring to our thirteen and eleven year old cousins, Uncle Darryl and Aunt Maggie's children, Abbey making it sound as if the whole plan was my idea. "Uncle Darryl will get their share," she added with a grin.
I should never have agreed! Ever! But, when my sister sets her mind on something, I've found it's often better to just go along with whatever she wants because she's going to do it anyway. Still, that's not a very good excuse for a nineteen year old man to make.
But I didn't stop her when she started to pump me again. Nor did I say anything when I half filled a second cup. I beat the egg whites until they were stiff while Abby beat me!
I watched as Abby added the rum to one of the half cups of cum and then added the mixture to the eggs and sugar. I shook my head when she took a spoonful of the cum from the second cup and set it aside saying, "That's for Uncle Darryl".
I didn't object when she whipped the rest of other half cup of my "cream" with an egg white and a teaspoon of vanilla and then folded it slowly into the mixture. I watched as she added the Scotch.
Said nothing as she added a liberal dash of cinnamon.
"Here, try it, Abigail McLeod's Milk and Cum Laced Egg Nog," she finally offered as she dipped her spoon into the finished egg nog and then brought it to my lips.
It wasn't half bad! In fact it was pretty good. Still, I grimaced as I swallowed.
And so, at ten o'clock that night, after the family had returned home from the Christmas Eve service at the Presbyterian Church my great, great grandfather had helped build, my sister Abby presented the McLeod Holiday Egg Nog to her hushed and expectant relatives. Grandfather, kilted for the occasion (as was I), sitting in his normal place at the head of the table as always, of course was the first to be served.
I involuntarily cringed as I saw him bring his cup to his lips and had to fight the urge to swat it from his fingers before he took a sip. Everyone at the table knew this was another trial for my sister, my sister who'd always been the first to suffer the wrath of her grandfather. Grandpa swallowed. Never a man to utter a compliment easily all of us waited breathlessly.
"Well Abigail, at least you can do something right," he finally said, announcing his decision, but then added, "besides delivering bastard babies."
Still, all in all, it was a much more positive comment than anyone around the table had expected (especially me) and so we collectively let out the breath we'd been holding since he'd brought the cup to his lips. Smiles were on every face as hands reached out to grab the carefully prepared drink. And everyone heaped praise on my sister after they'd sampled her work. Except of course for Uncle Darryl whose specially "doctored" and unsweetened dose only brought a questioning grimace to his face.
"You liked it didn't you?" Abby accused a couple of hours later. We were nestled together in my bed, our bodies still hot from our just finished coupling. My warm, creamy sperm was oozing from between her legs.
"Liked what?" I asked as I put my arm around her and pulled her even tighter against my body.
"That everyone drank your seed ... your manhood," she said softly, her lips just inches from mine.
"No I didn't! It was yucky. Mom ... Grams ... Auntie," I stammered even though I'd been thinking about it, about the implications, since I watched my family swallow me. It had excited me!
"You're lord of the manor now Robbie," my sister answered as her fingers lightly stroked my chest.
"Not for years, grandpa will last forever," I said even though I knew the true state of his failing health. It was the reason he'd not allowed me to go off to University sixteen months earlier. 'You have to stay and learn the business boy' he'd ordered me just a week before I was to have started at the University of Missouri. Then he'd told me why. About the small heart attack he'd had and concealed from his family, about the prognosis that had promised an early death if he didn't give up his eighty hour work weeks.
"I want you to promise me something," Abby said as she rolled on top of me.
"What?" I answered warily even as my sister's fingers found my penis and rubbed it up and down her moist slit.
"I want you to banish Uncle Darryl ... when you become the lord I mean." She pulled me inside her.
"Banish him?" I laughed, both at the ludicrous idea but also because I knew I'd love to do it.
"Will you?" she insisted.
Of course I agreed even though banishing hadn't been in a McLeod Lord's arsenal for over four hundred years!
Later, as we lay in each others arms, my softening cock dripping a last sticky strand across her thigh, she asked, "Do you remember our first time Robbie?"
As if either of us would ever forget...
Fourteen Months Earlier, Halloween Night, October 31, 2007, McLeod Manor
I was born on the night of October 31, 1989, my mother delivering me to the world in the same house, and in fact the same room, that she had been born in eighteen years earlier. My sister was eleven months old at the time and was sleeping in her crib in the corner of the room when I popped out into view. My wail at leaving mom's womb woke her.
We were fatherless growing up, mother, who'd run away from home at fifteen, had reappeared at McLeod Manor some two and a half years later with Abigail on her hip and yours truly growing inside her. Or that was the story we'd always been told.
And so we'd grown up in the hundred and twenty year old house my great, great grandfather had built in a medium sized town in the American Midwest. A grand house that had been built with the profits earned from McLeod Enterprises, the family manufacturing firm that was still the largest employer in the county.
My grandfather, Duncan Andrew McLeod, had inherited the house and the company some forty years earlier and had acted the Great Lord ever since. Truth be said grandpa could best be described as a mean, cantankerous old prick. A tightwad who managed his families finances as closely as he managed the company's books.
We may have been the richest family in town but it certainly wasn't spent on his grandchildren. Nor were there any Ferraris' in the driveway. Granddad didn't spend an extra dime on himself as he worked his eighty plus hour work weeks.
My sister ran away when she was seventeen. Simply disappeared one night without a word to anyone. Without a word to her brother who'd been her best friend all her life. To me! To the boy she'd shared an attic with since she'd been eleven and he ten. A private world of two bedrooms, a washroom and a den that the family had exiled us to — granddad claiming at the time that we were too noisy and he wanted us out of his hair.
We came to know every thought and feeling of the other over the subsequent six years. We had no secrets from the other. There was no shyness physically or mentally between us. We loved each other but in a completely asexual way. We were siblings.
And then one night I dreamt of my sister. She left the next day!
I was devastated!
A week later I received an e-mail, 'I love you — always will — just had to leave for a while — I'll be back — promise — I'm just not ready — luv Abby'.
And so, on that night of my eighteenth birthday, it had been some fifteen months since I'd seen my sister. But as I looked up that night to see our Mrs. Campbell and her daughter carrying my birthday cake, alive with dancing candles, into the dining room and the roomful of waiting family members, it was the person who was missing, my sister Abigail, who was foremost in my mind. The person whose absence had made my life empty.
The doorbell rang just as I was about to bend over and blow out the candles. Three long, harsh demanding rings. We all looked up towards the foyer and door.
My grandfather scowled in anger, then flicked his finger at me indicating I should get back to the cake.
The bell rang again. Even more insistently this time.
"I'll get it," Mrs. Campbell offered as she moved towards the door.
"Leave it!" granddad thundered, "how much blood do these people want from me? They'll bankrupt us."
"They're just children ... it's only candy," my grandmother said softly, trying to mollify granddad before he really got going on one of his rants.
"Its bloody nine o'clock! Why aren't they home in bed?" he demanded as he looked angrily around the table.
"It's Roberts birthday, don't spoil it father," my mom admonished, boldly daring to challenge the man who ruled our house like a despot.
For a second granddad's eyes flared in anger, but then, contrary to his normal behavior, he seemed to accept this mild rebuke in the cause of family peace. Probably only because it was my birthday. Then we all heard the front door open and then bang shut.
"WHAT THE?" Granddad screamed as he jumped to his feet. But before he could make another move a costumed apparition appeared in the doorway of the dining room. Granddad's hand grabbed the knife that was lying on the tablecloth, the knife that was to have sliced my birthday cake.
Our visitor started to sing:
"Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday dear Robert,
Happy birthday to you."
It was Abby. In fact I'd known it was her even before the first word had escaped her lips. Even costumed and masked I would have recognized her anywhere. I held out my arms as we rushed towards each other.
"Do you know this person Robert?" granddad demanded, the knife still clenched menacingly in his fist.
"It's Abby grandpa," my youngest cousin said as I engulfed my sister in my arms.
Minutes later, after all the family hugs and kisses had subsided I found myself back at the table facing the flickering and still unblown candles. My sister, now unmasked, had pulled up a chair and had squeezed in tight alongside me. My kilt, which I wore only on special family occasions, rested high on my thighs. My cock and balls were hanging freely.
The feelings that had started to grow in me in the months before Abby had left were suddenly reignited as I felt her thigh warm against mine under the table.
"Well, hurry up, we don't have all night," granddad insisted. Abby blew with me, then pulled a smoking candle from the icing and popped the sticky end into her mouth. A second later I felt her free hand on my bare knee.
"Pass the cake to your grandma, she'll cut it," granddad ordered impatiently.
"Yes sir," I agreed. Abby gave my thigh a light squeeze. I almost dropped the cake!
Then my granddad moved his attention to sis. The two had never had an easy relationship; Abby had always been far too independent for his liking. I knew that their rocky relationship had been the main reason she'd run away. "You're not pregnant are you?" my grandfather demanded.
"I don't think so," my sister answered saucily between bites of my cake. Soft fingers were now gently tracing slowly across my inner thigh. My cock jumped to attention.
"And do you think you can just wander back home and I'll support you?" my still angry grandfather asked.
"I thought maybe the company could hire me to stay home while I found myself," Abigail said sweetly. I just knew she was baiting him. She'd done it all her life. A finger touched the tip of my penis. I groaned. What the hell was Abby doing I wondered.
"Oh did you?" my grandfather thundered. "Do you see now Robert? Even your family members will try to bankrupt the company."
"Maybe a thousand a week ... and a company car," my sister added guilelessly, a happy smile on her face. Then she gave my penis a gentle squeeze before returning her hand to the tabletop.
Grandad wasn't happy! In fact smoke seemed to be coming from both his ears when he next spoke. "You will report to work Monday morning at eight a.m. young lady and I don't want to hear another word from you on the subject."
"Yes grandfather," my sister agreed meekly.
Later, after we'd finished eating and talking, as the family were getting ready to go our merry ways, Abby gave me a quick, light hug, then whispered in my ear, "I'll come later ... I want to talk to mom for a while."
I went upstairs alone, showered. Stroked myself slowly as the warm water cascaded over my body. Wondered about Abby's touch ... wondered why she'd done it. We'd always been close but had never done anything like that. Even if I'd caught myself thinking about it once in a while in the days before she'd left. They'd just been innocent daydreams hadn't they? She'd never though of me that way had she I wondered.
Without even thinking about it I changed the sheets on my bed. Then I slipped between them clad only in a pair of clean boxers. I knew she'd soon come. Five minutes later I heard the shower start up again.
The door of the bathroom slowly opened. "You awake?" Abby whispered. She was naked, standing in the doorway and highlighted by the light behind her. She flicked the light off but only after I'd seen the dark nipples on her breasts, only after I'd seen the dark triangle at the juncture of her legs. I hadn't seen my sister naked since we'd been about five years old!
"Can I come in?" Another needless question asked as she silently crossed the room to my bed and then slipped under the sheet.
"I missed you so much," I answered as I welcomed her into my arms. Tears were in my eyes.
"What about me? How do you think I felt?" Abbey demanded back.
"You! It was you who left, not me," I accused even as we hugged each other tighter.
"It was your fault."
"My fault! How could it have been my fault?"
"I'll tell you later. Now tell me what I've missed?"
"What you've missed? But--"
"Yes, what I've missed," she interrupted.
"Like why aren't you at University?
Do you have a girlfriend?
Who is she?
When did you grow so big?
Does mom have a boyfriend yet?
What about Uncle Darryl?
Can you grow a beard yet?
Are you a good kisser?"
The questions were spilling from her mouth in a torrent that I knew could go on for hours. So impulsively I kissed her.
"Why'd you do that?" she asked when we broke apart. There was surprise and excitement in her voice.
"To shut you up for a second," I answered. My lips were tingling.
"So who else have you been kissing like that?" Abbey demanded.
"None of your business," I answered with a smile. "And why aren't you wearing any clothes?"
"My p.j.'s are dirty. So who is she?"
"Everyone says I'm a terrible kisser. You should have given me a lesson before you left. It wasn't fair to leave me like that."
"That's why I left," my sister answered softly, almost sadly, her lips hovering above mine. "Besides, you seem to have mastered the art somehow."
'Uh huh," Abbey said and then captured my lips in hers. "Happy birthday," she added when our lips finally separated again.
"You coming home is the best present anyone has ever given me," I admitted as I ran my fingers lovingly through her hair.
"That's not your present," she answered as I felt her rise up and then stretch across my body, leaning over me to switch on the bedside lamp.
"It wasn't?" I asked as the room lit up with light. My sister's breasts, hanging exposed just inches above my chest, breasts I'd never seen like this before, drew my eyes.
"It's too bright," my sister complained as she fiddled with the dimmer until the room was lit up only with a faint glow. Her nipples brushed against me as she moved. My cock pulsed with life as the blood rushed in to fill it.
"So what'd you get me then?" I asked. In answer my sister sat up and then moved her body until she was straddling me, one knee on each side of my chest with her naked bum sitting on my stomach. My eyes, which had been mesmerized by her breasts, suddenly flicked downward to the pubic triangle that shielded her sex.
She didn't answer my question, instead she moved slowly backwards down my body, her rear pushing the sheet down and off me as it moved across my groin and then down my thighs. My cock was throbbing, tenting upward against the boxer shorts that covered it.
"You're big everywhere," she whispered as she slipped her fingers inside the slit of my shorts, then grasped him and pulled him out. "Very big!" she added, then licked her lips. Her eyes were locked on mine. I groaned softly.
And then my shorts were off and my sister was between my legs, her mouth just inches from my cockhead. "Does your girlfriend do this?" she asked, then flicked out her moist tongue and licked a drop of precum from its tip. "Or this?" she asked as she lifted my penis and licked it's underside from the base to the tip.
"Jeeesus no, no one has," I groaned out.
"Never?" I heard both surprise and happiness in her voice.
"I'm a virgin." I'd groaned again, already feeling the pressure building deep in my balls. Christ, hold on ... not yet, I screamed inwardly as my sisters tongue moved over my cock.
"Never in a woman's mouth?" she asked just before her lips slipped over my cockhead and took me inside.
"Nooooooo ... I'm going to cum ... stop ... please Abby." I was stammering out words incoherently, wanting to cum, to explode in my sister's mouth but also wanting it to last forever.
She released me, then flicked her tongue across and around the big head. "It's okay ... it's perfect ... you're perfect ... beautiful," she cooed as she made love to my penis with her tongue. "Whenever you're ready," she invited as she took me back inside her mouth again. Her fingers found my balls ... I simply detonated. My whole body seemed to explode as my semen rushed outwards. I died a little as my bucking hips propelled my cum deep into Abby's mouth and throat. Then again. And again. Then my bucking cock jerked free of her lips and the fourth and fifth angry ejaculations splattered her face and chest. Then her lips captured me again and she sucked the last drops from me.
She was grinning crazily when she finally started to move up my body, a strand of my cum dangling from the corner of her mouth. "What?" I asked. Her breasts were sticky as they slid over my stomach and onto my chest.
"Kiss me," she ordered, then plastered her sticky lips against mine.
My arms engulfed her as her tongue forced its way between my lips.
"So, what about me?" she asked after we'd finally broken apart. Then she kissed me again.
"What about you what?" I asked later.
"Where's my present?'
"Your birthday isn't for a month." Our lips found each other again.
"What about last years?" she panted.
"You weren't here ... you didn't tell me where you were ... I would have--"
"Hah! You would have what?" she asked petulantly as she wriggled her body. My cock was achingly hard between our stomachs.
"I would have given you one."
"I want it now Robbie," she demanded as her hand slipped between our stomachs and grabbed me.
"A big present," she said as pushed back from me and sat up, easing her bum atop my thighs. I watched silently as she splayed her knees wide apart. Her sex opened. My cock, impossibly stiff, stood like a sentinel between her thighs.
"It's not wrapped," she complained as she cupped my shaft between her two palms. A drop of cum leaked from its tip. Abby bent and then tongued the offending liquid away.
"Abbeeeeeee," I moaned softly as I watched my sister lift her bum off my thighs and raise herself onto her knees so that her triangle of pubic hair was just above my straining shaft and seemed to be pointing down at it.
"I want to wrap it. I have a box for it. Can I?" she asked as she slowly lowered herself so that the lips of her now gaping sex seemed to be surrounding my cockhead.
"Hurry," I begged.
And then the bulbous head of my penis suddenly was popped inside and was swallowed by her as the lips closed behind it.
"I'm not sure I'll be able to wrap the whole thing. It may be too big," my sister teased as she slid three more inches inside herself.
"Please Abby ... hurry ... fuck me," I demanded as I thrust my hips up and off the bed.
She met my thrust with one of her own. I was in! All the way. Into that tight, moist, extraordinary place that proved to be a thousand times better than I'd ever imagined. My sister grunted softly as she welcomed all of me, then bent over so that her breasts were squashed against my chest and her lips inches from mine. "It's your job to do the fucking my beautiful little brother," she insisted.
So I did. We did. I came quickly the first time, just seconds after I'd rolled her over and started to pump my piston urgently inside her. But I knew it was okay, I knew she was also orgasming as my cum splashed inside her that first time.
We tried to do everything that night. Making up for the months we'd spent apart.
There was no shame or embarrassment. It was too good, too natural, too all encompassing to be bad.
We were in love. We'd been made to do this. We did it. We fucked!
And in the days and months that followed we continued to. Our two bedrooms in the attic became our private sanctum, our haven from reality, the place we lived as man and wife.
On the outside we looked like two grown up children still living at home. We both got up every morning and went to work. We saw our friends, both singly and together. We even dated others, both of us recognizing a need to play a charade for the outside world.
Later we figured that it was a couple of months later, perhaps around the New Year that Sophie was conceived. Abigail announced the impending birth to a shocked family at dinner one night in late April.
"Who's the father?" granddad angrily demanded.
"I'm not sure," my sister replied.
"YOU'RE NOT SURE!" Granddad continued to rant all that evening. About the shame she was bringing down on the family. My mom and my aunt, both of whom had lived through much the same thing, said nothing while giving Abby sympathetic glances.
Sophie was born on September 30th, 2008. I milked my sister for the first time two days later.
Life went on. I continued to work as grandfather's assistant and presumed heir apparent. He continued to work impossible hours for a man of his age and health. He simply couldn't find it in his nature to slow down. He suffered a series of further attacks. I was sworn to secrecy.
December 25th, McLeod Manor 2:30 a.m.
"Merry Christmas," my love whispered softly. We'd both been reliving that birthday night some fourteen months earlier.
"You should sleep," I answered as I cupped her head in my hand and lightly kissed her.
"I'm glad it was you and not granddad," she whispered back, our lips just inches apart.
"That was one of the reasons I left." We'd never really discussed why she'd left and what she'd done while away since she'd returned.
I was instantly wide awake. "Did granddad try something?"
"Nope ... but he would have," my sister confided.
"But you were the real reason I left."
"I had to wait ... neither of us was ready."
"You knew even then?"
"Always," my wife answered softly.
Christmas Day was always a happy occasion in the McLeod household. It was the one day of the year that granddad seemed to be able to forget his responsibilities and relax. Even he couldn't think of a reason to go to work on that day.
But he had a heart attack two days later. At nine-thirty in the morning in the office we shared in McLeod Enterprises. He'd been facing me across his desk, giving me the day's orders, when he'd suddenly grasped her chest and collapsed. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as the ambulance technicians wheeled grandfather out the door. I knew he'd never be coming back. And somewhere, deep inside me, an excitement was born at the thought that I'd soon be the next Lord of McLeod Enterprises.
December 27th, Hospital Room 11:45 p.m.
"Who's that ... who's there?" Both Abby and I jumped at the unexpected question hissed from the darkness.
"Granddad?" I asked as I leapt from my chair and hurried across the room to his bedside. Abby was right beside me.
"Robbie?" my grandfather asked in a weak, almost unrecognizable voice.
"Don't talk," I whispered.
"Is that Abby too?"
"Yes grandpa," my sister answered softly.
"Should I get the Doctor," I asked.
"Turn on the light," grandpa ordered, some of his normal grouchiness and power suddenly back in his voice.
"You should sleep," I cautioned as I flicked the switch on the bedside lamp.
"I'm dying Robbie ... if I go to sleep I may never wake up."
Abigail chirped in with, "You don't look that bad grandpa."
Her words brought a scowl to granddads face. Then he snapped, "I'm talking to your brother." The dismissal was clear in his voice and just for a second I saw an angry reply on Abby's lips. Then, realizing where she was, she swallowed it and then moved back a step.
"You're McLeod Enterprises now boy," granddad started. He shook his head when he saw the protest on my face. "Six hundred families livelihood depend on you now boy."
"I'm not ready," I objected.
"You better be," he answered ominously as he captured my eyes in his. "You won't be able to go away to school now ... I'm truly sorry for that son," he whispered, the apology, any apology, clearly difficult for him to deliver, even at this late point.
"It's not your fault."
"Of course it's not my fault," granddad agreed, he'd apologized but he certainly wasn't going to feel bad about what he'd done. "Give me your hand," he demanded, then added, "I want your oath boy," when he had my hand between his bony fingers. His eyes drilled into mine.
"Your word that you'll turn this company and family over to the next generation in better shape than it is now."
"I'll do my best."
"I don't want your bloody best; I just want you to do it." It was an order. "And the day you buy a fancy sports car or try to move the plant to China is the day I'll come back from hell to haunt you boy." It was a promise I believed.
"Yes granddad," I agreed.
"And what about you," he asked into the darkness where my sister hovered.
"What about me?" Abby asked back a she approached the bed.
"You're not that bad," granddad conceded with a rueful smile.
"I'm not?" she responded but with a sparkle in her eyes as she said it.
"You're improving ... your egg nog was pretty good."
"Robbie helped me."
"Whatever. Anyway, you take care of my great granddaughter ... and your brother too," he added.
"Yes gramps," she answered and then started to step back again. She'd been dismissed again.
"Wait, what was the secret ingredient anyway," he asked.
"The egg nog girl," grandad replied impatiently.
"Are you sure you want to know?" There was a mischievous smile on Abby's face now. I shook my head no at her as she walked right to the edge of the bed.
"Christ girl I'm dying! We're not playing twenty bloody questions." The real granddad, querulous and sarcastic was back. Abby didn't say anything; instead she started to unbutton the buttons on her blouse.
"What the hell are you doing," gramps stared.
"I think we better go now Abby," I added as my sisters blouse slipped off her shoulders and fell to the floor.