The high from the Michigan swinger party still thrummed under our skin like a live wire as Candace and I drove north to Hank and Gloria’s secluded lake house, the pines closing in thick and dark around the narrow road. We’d texted the core group from the night before: Ryan and Emily with Vanessa tagging along, Tiffany and Brad, Evelyn and her grandson Luke, the elegant TS Jade, and the real step sibling pair Alex and Mia whose mirrored hunger had fueled so much of the chaos. Hank’s reply was short and loaded: “Games tonight. Prizes for the boldest. Bring everything.” Candace’s fingers stayed high on my thigh the whole drive, nails grazing skin, her breath shallow and quick. “Bro,” she whispered, voice thick with leftover heat, “after last night I can’t stop feeling you inside me. Raw. Deep. No holding back.” We didn’t touch yet. We let the anticipation coil tighter, knowing the night would break us open again.

The lake house sprawled on the private shore, windows glowing amber against the dusk, the air sharp with pine sap, lake water, and the faint metallic promise of rain. Inside, the great room smelled of woodsmoke, sex, and anticipation. Thick rugs, low couches circling a massive coffee table where a twisted Monopoly board waited beside baggies of coke, bottles of lube, scattered toys, and stacks of colorful fake currency. Hank greeted us shirtless, scars silver under the firelight, pulling Candace into a hug that lingered, his rough palms sliding down to cup her ass. Gloria stood beside him in nothing but a sheer black robe, heavy breasts swaying free, nipples already stiff in the warm air. The others were scattered and half naked: Emily straddling Ryan’s lap, Vanessa’s fingers lazily circling her own clit nearby; Tiffany on her knees giving Brad slow, wet head by the bar; Evelyn bouncing gently on Luke’s lap in a recliner, her loose folds gripping him with practiced ease; Jade reclining like royalty, skirt hiked, thick cock resting heavy against her thigh; Alex and Mia locked in a slow, open mouthed kiss that reeked of fresh sin.

Gloria laid out the Irma la Douce rules with a slow, wicked smile. “Ladies compete for Monopoly money. Most depraved acts, most creative taboo, most loads collected. Men judge, pay out. Winner claims the ultimate prize: one no limits request from anyone in the room.” The women eyed each other like predators: Candace, Emily, Tiffany, Vanessa, Evelyn, Mia, Gloria, and Jade all in. The air crackled. Inhibitions were already threadbare after the previous night, but the coke would burn them to nothing.

Candace and I slipped into the kitchen while the group laughed and poured drinks. She locked the door, laid two fat lines on the granite counter with a credit card, the powder bright and crystalline under the pendant light. “Quick one, bro,” she breathed, pupils already wide. I bent first, the burn slicing up my nose like glass, then fire racing through my skull, every nerve lighting up white hot. Skin electric. Heart slamming. She snorted hers next, tits brushing my arm, and the moment the rush hit us our eyes met and something primal snapped wide open. No words. Just mouths crashing together, tongues thick and greedy, coke numb and razor sharp at once. My hands gripped her ass hard, fingers digging into soft flesh, sliding between her thighs to find her already drenched, clit swollen under my thumb. She moaned into my mouth, grinding against my palm, whispering, “I need you so fucking bad right now. My brother’s cock. Deep. Filling me.” The drug stripped every last shred of guilt, turned sibling want into roaring, unbearable need. We broke apart gasping, skin flushed, cocks and cunts throbbing in perfect sync. “Game first,” she panted. “Then I’m yours. All night.”