Chapter 2

About five years later, my brother put his stories into book form and published it.

Those willing to review it, panned it. They all said that it was too erotic for a mainstream audience. One reviewer even went so far as to say, “Anyone writing about raping his own sister, even if it was true, should go into therapy instead of starting to write non-fiction.”

Ha!

Still, he sold a few thousand copies, barely recouping his costs.

I ran into him at a bar. He didn’t recognize me at all. I dyed my hair jet black and had piercings in my ears, nose, nipples and clit.

“Aren’t you Sean Holder, the guy who wrote that book about raping your sister?”

“No, I’m not him, but everyone tells me that I look like him!” he said sounding like he had said that many times before. He also sounded like he was much less aggressive than during the time I became his slut.

“Well,” I said, “I got his book and read it. He sure was a prick if he really treated all women like he treated his own sister.”

Sean had nothing to say.

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“Uh ... Frank ... Frank ... just Frank,” he said.

“Well, just Frank, I’m here to find some poor guy who needs to get it on. I’m so horny I can’t stand it!” I said cupping my hand over his bulge. “You would do, if you can keep it up long enough. Want to fuck?”

I saw his forehead sweating. This Sean was so different. Even so, he still stiffened in his pants, and he asked, “Where do you want to go and do it?”

I was 22 and had my own place. Mom and Dad knew it, but I know Sean didn’t. He never contacted anyone after our playtime back in the day. Now, I shaved my pussy twice a week because guys paid extra when they saw my naked snatch.

I sure had changed since high school. I got an allowance from my folks, as long as I showed up for dinner once a week. That was pretty cool. I could’ve been cut off completely, but mom talked dad into using cash to get me at home. I still loved them, but the money was great. As I walked Sean to my place, I was thinking if there was anything there that would tell who I was? I assured myself there wasn’t. I never was the kind of girl that put pictures on the wall. Especially, after Sean’s abandonment of me and our family.

It only took ten minutes to get there. He was getting more excited as we got near my front door. He started pawing at my butt.

I turned and said, “Don’t touch me, unless I say it’s ok. I’ve thrown guys out better looking than you are.”

“Why me then?” he said.

“You remind me of someone I used to know. Someone I used to fuck all the time. Keep your hands to yourself, Frank!”

His reaction to that was hilarious. He must’ve forgotten he used the name Frank when we had our introductions.

I opened up, and turned on the light. The furniture was part of the place when I moved in. It was ok, but nothing remarkable either. For $500 a month, I didn’t need remarkable.

We went to my room; thankfully, I kept it clean enough. I started to strip. I saw him having problems with his buttons. After I got naked, I kneeled and helped him. He got his shirt off, I got his pants off. I stayed down long enough for him to think I was going to blow him, but I didn’t.

I got on my bed and said, “No kissing, just a fuck. No oral, just a fuck. Go ahead, as soon as you are hard enough. I also don’t like wimpy fucks. I want you to ram me hard, make me cum. If you cum, it’s ok.”

Now, he was moving rather tentatively, and had to put his hand on his dick to get it hard enough. A far cry from holding me down and taking my cherry like he had.

“Come on Frank, I have other places to be!”

He finally pushed himself all the way inside. It felt a little like it had used to, but he needed some more motivation. “Come on, Frankie. Fuck me!” He finally started the machinations of fucking me and it was feeling rather nice.

“Do you like dirty talk Frank? I like to talk dirty. Come on you big Frankfurter. Stick me with that piece of meat. Make me wetter inside. Do you have any secrets or and desires? Come on baby, fuck me. Yeah, that feels better.”

“Oh, uh ... gosh, can I pretend you’re my sister?”

“Whatever floats your boat Frankie,” I said.

He was moving into high gear, “Oh. Oh god Susan. I love you, let me fuck you. Be a good sister and take it all.”

“Come on Frank, come on, fuck me, fuck your sister ... call me Susan your little sister, do it, do it, come on do it, AAAaaaaaauuggghhhh,” I had the best orgasm in a very long time.