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Conflict, an incest brother and sister story!



Written by Geronimi
An incest story...


Gareth finally caught her outside. “Amy, please … We’ve got to talk about it.”

Amy turned when she heard his voice, her eyes wide with fright when she faced him. She gulped, throat working while shaking her head, blonde ringlets waving.

“No,” Gareth’s sister said, a hand going up to halt his forward momentum. “We don’t. I don’t want to talk about it. It shouldn’t have happened, Gareth.” Amy swallowed heavily again, casting another furtive glance around the gardens in case anyone was close by. “As far as I’m concerned, it didn’t happen,” she hissed through a portcullis of pristine teeth. “Forget it, Gareth. It … Never ... Happened.”

He grabbed for her arm when she ducked past him. “Amy, please!”

But she was too quick, Amy was away, hurrying up the broad steps towards the hotel front door, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she went.

“Shit,” Gareth spat, frustrated, fingers clenching into fists.

The previous evening:

“Amy’s here!”

Gareth and Jennifer both looked up. Their mother stood at the side of the table, visibly enthused.

Jennifer was the first to speak. “She made it?” Smiling at her mother, Jennifer rose to her feet. “Oh, Mum, it’s going to be perfect.”

It was early evening. They were in the bar of the hotel – a grand old pile in the Yorkshire Dales, a manor house turned into a country hotel-cum-wedding-venue, with Jennifer’s nuptials their reason for being there.

For Melody Cartwright it had been a logistical headache stretching back months, but it seemed the hard work was about to pay off: it was the eve of the big day, the wedding was now in the lap of the gods and the planner – Melody trusted in both.

“The three of you together again.” Melody sighed, beaming. “My wonderful children.”

“Oh, Mum,” Gareth winced, embarrassed.

Then a woman appeared at the doorway, expression expectant as she surveyed the room, cheeks dimpling when she saw them, her smile delighted.

“Amy!” Jennifer trilled. She reached out to embrace her younger sister. “Oh God, you got here. I’m so glad.”

The sisters embraced, both chattering excitedly.

“Hello, Gaz,” Amy said to her brother, thirty seconds later. “Good to see you.”

In a more restrained fashion, Gareth stood up and hugged his sister, his height dwarfing the diminutive blonde.

“How was the flight?” Gareth asked when the three siblings were seated around the table, Melody rushing away to the bar.

Amy shrugged. “Yeah, not bad. Landed at Heathrow on time, made the connection to Manchester okay.” She rolled her eyes and grimaced, adding, “The M62 was a bit of dog.”

Gareth nodded slowly. “Friday evening,” he said. “Bad timing.”

“But you’re here now,” Jennifer cut in. “I’m so pleased you could make it.”

“For my sister’s wedding?” Amy replied, shrugging.

“Are they okay with the time off?” Jennifer asked, concerned.

“I’ll be honest, they took a little working on, but it’s all fine, Jen. I’ll have four days here and then it’s back to Kuala Lumpur.”

The conversation went back-and-forth as the four caught up on minor family occurrences since their last Skype call: an update on Amy’s teaching job; recent developments in Gareth’s IT business; the health or ailments of aunts, cousins, uncles and various other members of the extended family; who was coming to the wedding and who wasn’t.

Finally, after a full hour of it, Amy yawned. “God, I’m knackered,” she sighed, blinking.

“At least you made it to 9 p.m.,” Jennifer said. “Worst thing you can do is go to sleep too early.”

Amy nodded, stifling another huge yawn with the back of a hand. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” she said, grimacing. “I think I’d better call it a night. Hopefully I’ll be brighter tomorrow.”

“Come on then,” Melody said, rising quickly. “Let’s get you back to the house.”

Gareth saw his sister pull a face and realised Amy wasn’t exactly thrilled with the prospect of another half-an-hour minutes in a car.

“It’s twin beds in my room,” he said. “If you’re cream-crackered, Amy … Well, it makes no odds to me, but you can always crash out here. Saves you having to try to keep your eyes open--”

Amy considered the suggestion and turned to her mother. “What do you think, Mum? I must admit,” she went on, “the idea of going upstairs and tumbling into bed...

“Sorry, Mum,” Amy continued. “I’ll come home if you want, but--”

Melody blinked in the face of the unexpected offer. “We-ell,” she said, slowly. “I suppose … But it’s up to you, darling--”

“Is it really all right?” Amy asked her brother. “You don’t mind?”

Gareth shrugged. “What’s to mind … As long as you don’t snore.”


***


Gareth woke up when the bed dipped. He blinked into the dark, confused by the unfamiliar feel of his surroundings for a moment or two. He wasn’t at home – so where was he?

Then it came back to him: Jennifer’s wedding; the hotel…

An indistinct shadow moved next to him, a vaguely human form sitting on the edge of his bed.

There was movement, a weight resting against him before Gareth felt a hand on his cock.

Stunned, he gaped into the darkness, his body responding to the touch despite his surprise.

“Amy?” Gareth gurgled. But it couldn’t be. Amy was his sister – what would she be doing fondling his dick in the middle of the night.

“Who is it?” Gareth croaked, refusing to believe.

“God, it’s so stiff,” she murmured. “Jesus--”

Gareth had to face it. It had been his sister’s voice. He wriggled and gasped, instinctively recoiling from Amy’s touch. “What? No. Stop it--”

“Let me touch it,” Amy whimpered, her hand finding Gareth’s tumescence. The bed moved again, the covers going back. “Oh, shit,” Gareth heard his sister groan as her weight settled over him. “Fuck me.”

It had all happened too fast for him to respond. Gareth realised too late that his sister had straddled his thighs and held him upright. She was over him in a moment, her spongy softness enveloping him, her body taking his length. It was wrong, but so undeniably glorious – Amy’s molten embrace squeezed his cock.

She might be his sister, but she was a beautiful woman: lithe and supple; tiny tits; taut round buttocks and legs like a dancer’s.

Amy rode her brother’s cock, his hands around her waist, her hair brushing his face and chest while her pelvis worked back-and-forth.

“Amy? Jesus … What…?

“…Oh my God! Amy … We’re … We’re--”

“Shush,” Amy replied, a low moan coming out of her. “Don’t talk. Just fuck. I’m so fucking horny, Gaz. I’m sorry, but I’m just so fucking horny for it.”

Gareth surrendered to it. He pushed the fact she was his sister from his mind. It was sublime, a supremely healthy and extremely attractive young woman bouncing on his cock. His hands went up to her breasts, Amy’s nipples like pebbles against his palms.

“Touch me,” his sister mumbled. “God, Gareth, touch me all over.”

“Fuck, Amy,” he hissed, teeth clenched. “Get off; let me do it to you.”

“Yes!” Amy squeaked, rising off him. “Quick, give me room. Shove over so I can lie down.”

Gareth rolled off the bed. He leaned in and fumbled for the switch on the lamp next to the bed.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Gareth breathed when the light flicked on. His sister laid there, blonde hair all over the pillow. She was naked, depilated mons a distinct mound, labia dangling, lean thighs wide. Gareth could see the xylophone of his sister’s ribs as she stared at him all wide-eyed expectation as she sucked in air, chest heaving. “So lovely,” he added, kneeling between Amy’s legs.

“Look at you,” Amy gulped, eyes fixed on her brother’s erection. “I never knew you were so well put together.”

Gareth held himself over his sister on one straight arm. He took hold of his cock with his free hand, guiding the big domed end to his sister’s opening. Amy shunted forward, eager for her brother’s length.

“Be rough,” she squeaked, hips moving when Gareth slid inside. “I want it hard, babe. I’m in the mood.”

Gareth poured love into his sister while Amy looked back at him over her shoulder. They’d loved one another for over twenty minutes, neither one thinking about their familial connection. It was all about the moment, all about the physical – the tastes and textures and slick flesh.

Amy was on hands and knees, pelvis angled, buttocks thrust high, her cunt presented to her brother’s long, thick cock.

The young woman thrust back, keen to meet the instroke, the cheeks of her backside barely rippling despite the robust slapping of skin on skin.

Gareth grunted a warning, curling in low over his sister’s back, an arm encircling her waist.

“I’m coming,” he moaned, the big muscle at the base of his erection pumping semen into his sister’s body. “Fuck, Amy, I’m--”

“I know,” she moaned in reply, head turning, her brother’s cheek alongside hers. “Kiss me,” Amy murmured, fingers clawing at the bed. “Kiss me, babe.”

It went on for some time. Even when the flood of ejaculate had ceased, the siblings tongues’ slid and swirled, both of them gasping and groaning.

Finally, Gareth slid out, jizm slipping from his sister’s opening as she slumped onto her front, face-down against the bed.

“I’m exhausted,” Amy mumbled, eyes closing.

Gareth couldn’t believe it. How could she sleep after what they’d just done?

The enormity hit him like a train. “Shit,” he spat, stomach flipping, anxiety gripping his guts. “Amy … Oh fuck, no.” Gareth sat up, feet on the carpet, face in his hands while his elbows rested on his knees. “No-no-no,” he keened, regarding the sleeping woman, aghast at what he’d allowed to happen.

***


Gareth woke up fuzzy and disorientated, his brain replaced by cotton-wool stuffing. At first he clung to the tenuous notion it had been a dream, the hope a tiny surge inside him.

Gareth looked at the other bed, finding it empty, the cover flung back, his sister nothing more than a memory, a dent in the pillow.

It hadn’t happened, it couldn’t have.

His own sister?

Gareth groaned at the thought, stomach sliding greasily. He sat up, looking for Amy’s bag, his mind filled with questions about her whereabouts: the dining room? Breakfast?

No, her bag was gone.

Fear swelled, his internal organs rising in his throat: could she have gone to the house?

“It didn’t happen,” Gareth muttered to himself, desperate for it to be true. Then he realised he had begun the night in the other bed and recalled stumbling across the gap after Amy had fallen asleep. “Oh no … Oh shit, oh fucking hell,” he groaned.

What time was it?

Gareth reached for his phone, checking the screen: 8:17 a.m.

He sat on the bed, numb with it all, immobile while staring down at the phone in his hand. A minute passed – then another.

Finally he scrolled through the contacts. Finding his mother’s number, Gareth sucked in a deep breath, heart jumping like a frightened canary in a cage.

“Mum?” he croaked when someone picked up at the other end. Gareth cleared his throat of the dry feathers lodged there, forcing himself to sound more upbeat. “Is Amy there?” he asked, aiming for nonchalant. “I … uh … I just woke up and she’s gone … Her bag, too.”

“She just arrived,” Melody informed her son. “I thought you might have driven her over, Gareth,” she admonished. “Fancy letting her take a taxi--”

“She left without waking me up,” Gareth replied. “Is she all right?”

“Why shouldn’t she be?” Melody asked, continuing without waiting for a reply. “Anyway, she’s here, your sister is fine. Look, Gareth, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’ve got a thousand and one things to do here … Do you want to speak to Amy?”

“Yes,” Gareth responded quickly.


There was a pause, then his mother said, “She’s busy, Gareth. She’s helping Jennifer with all the tiny details left to be done. She said she’ll see you later.”

And that was it. His mother hung up a moment later.

Gareth’s mind whirled, thoughts tumbling: would Amy say anything to her mother? No, Gareth didn’t think so, but what about their sister? What about Jennifer?

“Shit,” Gareth spluttered, stomach lurching. “Why?” he asked himself. “What were you thinking?”

Gareth went over the details as far as he could recall them. The sex was still very clear in his mind: his sister’s skin; her moans; her face twisted into a rictus of pure pleasure; her body squelching around his girth; her tongue when they kissed and he poured jizm into her.

“But you started it, Amy,” he murmured. It came back to him, the vague impression upon waking; the hand around his cock. “What were you thinking?” Gareth gasped.

He tried to reassure himself Amy wouldn’t say anything to Jennifer – not on their sister’s wedding day. She wouldn’t, would she? Surely not. He hoped Amy would keep quiet, Gareth was certain she would keep such a shocking, appalling secret to herself.

But the niggling doubt ate at him – an acid burn slowly corroding his insides.

Gareth knew he would feel it all day. He thought about driving to the house, but pushed the idea aside almost immediately. It would be mayhem over there, his presence would only add to the chaos. Besides, Gareth reasoned, he had to speak to Amy alone, away from anyone.

Unable to face breakfast, his consumption limited to two cups of crap coffee in his room followed by a nicotine dose on the fire escape outside, Gareth then lay on the bed, willing the time to pass so he could confront his sister.


***


2 p.m. – at last.

Gareth waited at the door of the church. He watched his sister pass through the lych-gate, a jolt of some indefinable emotion leaping in his chest. She wore her blonde hair loose, her light tan complementing the yellow dress which hugged her slim form. A sudden memory came to Gareth: Amy on her hands and knees, rump presented to him while she smiled back at him over her shoulder. He recalled again the feel of her body along his front when he’d curled over her back, his cock inside her, her tongue in his mouth when she craned round to kiss him and his cum squirted.

Despite the mortification and horror at the acts of indecency they’d committed, Gareth couldn’t stop his penis from responding. “Oh fuck, Amy--” he mumbled under his breath.

Amy approached, her eyes tortured when she noticed her brother standing there. She halted, face tense, her mother stopping alongside her.

“What’s wrong?” Gareth heard Melody ask. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Forcing himself away, Gareth left, stepping back and turning one-eighty, an usher asking, “Bride or groom?”

“I’m the bride’s brother,” Gareth snapped. Frustrated, anxious and desperate to talk to Amy he took it out on the unfortunate man, instantly regretting his harsh tone.

An apology later and he was directed to the left side of the church, muscles tense while he waited for Amy to sit down. His sister did so a few minutes later, their mother interposed between them much to Gareth’s teeth-clenching irritation.

The service began. Gareth stood when he was meant to, mouthed the words to hymns and pretended to be absorbed when all he wanted to do was grab Amy and drag her from the church.

If he didn’t talk to his sister soon, if he didn’t find out how she felt before much more time passed he was going to explode.

The ceremony ended – eventually, but Gareth’s efforts to get near Amy in private were thwarted at every turn. Amy chose to ride to the manor house from the church in a different car. In the bar there were always people around, with Amy point-blank refusing to meet him outside when he feverishly whispered the request.

The afternoon wore into early evening. The wedding breakfast was over, the atmosphere convivial.

Watching Amy constantly, he saw her leave the bar.

Gareth followed and saw his sister moving along the wide corridor towards the front of the hotel.

Amy turned when she heard his voice, her eyes wide with fright when she faced him. She gulped, throat working while shaking her head, blonde ringlets waving.

“No,” Gareth’s sister said, a hand going up to halt his forward momentum. “We don’t. I don’t want to talk about it. It shouldn’t have happened, Gareth.” Amy swallowed heavily again, casting another furtive glance around the gardens in case anyone was close by. “As far as I’m concerned, it didn’t happen,” she hissed through a portcullis of pristine teeth. “Forget it, Gareth. It … Never ... Happened.”

He grabbed for her arm when she ducked past him. “Amy, please!”

But she was too quick, Amy was away, hurrying up the broad steps towards the hotel front door, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she went.

“Shit,” Gareth spat, frustrated, fingers clenching into fists.

Two hours later he felt the three-beer buzz. Gareth watched Amy dancing, jealousy rising in his throat.

Before he realised it he was on the dancefloor, his face two inches from the shocked countenance of a man in his thirties.

“That’s my sister you’re pawing, mate,” Gareth growled, a stiff finger poking the man in the chest.

“Gareth, please,” Amy said, her voice just audible above the thump-thump-thump of the bass beat. She grabbed her brother’s arm, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the altercation. “Sorry,” she said to the man, tugging at Gareth, forcing him to look at her. “Stop it,” she mouthed. “It’s Jenny’s wedding.”

Muscles worked in Gareth’s jaw. He glared at his sister for several long moments.

Leaning in close, Gareth told her, “I need to talk to you, Amy. We have to. I have to know what’s in your head.”

“Get me a drink – gin and tonic. I’ll meet you at the front of the hotel. I’ll be in the gardens.”

Amy melted into the crowd, leaving her brother standing there.


***

The gardens were all slanted shadows, the colourful scene monochrome in the back glow of the lamps aimed at the hotel’s broad façade. Deep obscurities lurked behind the sculpted hedgerows, the July night benign.

Amy was in a small alcove set off from the main path. “Here,” she called, just loud enough for Gareth to hear.

He found his sister sitting on one of the stone benches near the fountain, hair silver in the artificial half-light.

“Gin and tonic,” Gareth said, handing Amy a sweat-beaded glass.

His sister thanked him, sipping delicately while Gareth stood next to the bench, awkward and unsure in her presence after a day of inner turmoil.

“Sit down,” said Amy, curt and snappy. “Hovering there … You make me nervous.” A brittle laugh came out of her before she added, “And I feel bad enough as it is.” Amy turned her anguished face to her brother. “Bloody hell, Gaz,” she sighed.

“Amy … I--” he began, lifting an arm, the limb falling limp when Gareth realised he didn’t have a clue what to say.

He slumped next to his sister and took a deep draught from the pint of beer he’d brought with him.

“Shit,” Gareth hissed.

Amy sipped and unconsciously tapped her foot in time with the deep oomf-oomf coming from inside the hotel. “Isn’t it,” she concurred, lips a thin, bloodless line. She shook her head, sighing before taking another sip.

There was a short silence between the pair before they both spoke at once.

“Amy, I”--

“Oh God, Gareth--”

Gareth reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out cigarettes and put one in his mouth.

“No thanks,” Amy said when her offered the packet to her.

He lit up and sucked smoke deep.

“What are we going to do?” Gareth asked.

“Do?” Amy responded, incredulous. “Nothing. Not a thing, Gaz. What the bloody hell can we do. We’ve already fucking done it.”

Her brother shifted his rump against the bench. “I … I thought you might tell Jen,” he said.

Amy rounded on him. “Tell Jen!” she squeaked, agog. “Are you tapped? Why would I tell our sister, Gareth? Especially today. It’s her wedding day--” Amy boggled at her brother. “Can you imagine how crap it would be if I’d said something to her?” She uttered an ironic chuckle. “That’s one conversation I’d hate to be part of. Fucking hell, Gaz,” Amy sighed, staring at him. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m never going to say anything to anyone.”

“Me neither, Amy.” Gareth waved a hand, the cigarette’s red tip glowing. “But … But what happened?” he stammered.

Amy grimaced. “You were there, you know what happened.”

Wincing, Gareth clarified. “I mean,” he began slowly. “How did it start? I … I was asleep, Amy. I woke up and … Well, you were sitting on my bed. You … You--”

Amy leaned forward, elbows on her knees. She looked at the tiny pebbles between her feet, idly scuffing the gravel with the sole of one shoe while Gareth waited expectantly, his eyes on his sister.

Seconds passed with subdued celebrations in the background a reminder of what the day was meant to represent, the pair of them suffering with their own inner demons.

“Gareth,” Amy began, faltering before gathering herself. She swivelled at the waist to regard him directly. “I … I was confused” – Amy shrugged – “Jet-lagged, and the wine didn’t help. It’s vague, but I thought you were Adrian--”

“Adrian!?” Gareth gasped, interrupting his sister. “But you haven’t been going out with him for months. What--?”

“I know that,” cut in Amy. “I’m trying to explain, Gaz … I don’t bloody well know why I did it myself; I’m just trying to tell you what it was like for me. I was a bit out of it, not really awake, I suppose.” Amy barked a laugh, snorting before she went on with, “If I’d had my wits about me, do you think it would have happened?” She eyed her brother, eyebrows up in her forehead. “I don’t think I’d have … Have--

“I wouldn’t have touched my own brother’s cock,” Amy breathed. “Oh Jesus,” she gasped. “What have we done, Gaz?”

Gareth smoked and shrugged.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Amy continued. “I feel so awful, Gaz.”

“We have to keep it between us,” Gareth mumbled, his eyes sliding away from Amy’s face.

“Of course we do,” Amy nodded. “We can’t ever say anything about it.”

Looking at his sister again, Gareth said, “Will you be okay, Amy?”

Amy nodded. “I think so. I’ll go back to KL and just get on with it. I’ll keep busy and try to put it behind me.”

Instinctively, Gareth leaned in and put an arm around her shoulder. He felt Amy stiffen before she relented and melted against him.

It was a mistake, an error of Olympic proportions.

Gareth’s body responded to her proximity. His cock stiffened, while his heart accelerated like a jet fighter off an aircraft carrier. The need to comfort his sister became confused with carnal urges surging through him. He could feel her body against his, the memory of her nudity rushing in. Gareth heard his sister’s moans once again; he could smell the scent of her, could see her as she had been the previous night.

Emotions flared hot and urgent, the tipping point coming when Amy reached for the cigarette.

Gareth saw his sister’s lips pursed around the filter, the gesture oddly intimate – one which triggered an image of her with his cock in her mouth to flash into his mind’s eye.

The next thing Gareth became aware of was his sister’s tongue in his mouth. His hands were all over her while Amy moaned, her dress around her hips while she straddled him, Gareth’s cheeks sandwiched between her palms, Amy’s kiss conveying her own desire.

“Wuh-we can’t,” Gareth stammered, his hands full of his sister’s taut buttocks, her gin spilled across the gravel, his beer glass on the bench next to them, cigarette discarded.

“I know,” Amy breathed, her eyes holding Gareth’s, their interlocked gazes intense. Then she kissed her brother again.

***

She slipped out of the dress, letting it pool around her feet before stepping out and toeing the garment across the room.

Gareth stared at her. He sat on the bed, mouth open, enthralled by his sister’s beauty.

“I’m so horny, babe,” Amy whined, a hand inside her scanty underwear. “See?” she cooed, holding up fingers glistening with desire. “Taste me.”

His sister’s essence was in his mouth when Amy pushed two fingers past Gareth’s lips. He growled, lust surging, his hands going to her waist so he could pull her down onto him.

The siblings kissed, Amy on her brother’s lap.

“What are we doing?” Gareth groaned.

“Don’t talk about it,” Amy replied, shaking her head. “Don’t think about it, Gaz. Just get out of that suit. I want to look at you.” His sister stood up, looking down at Gareth, fists on her hips. “Quick,” she demanded. “Don’t fuck about. I’m too wound up to wait.”

Gareth watched his sister peel down her underwear as he yanked at his tie,

Amy lay on the bed, legs wide, flaunting herself at her brother. She splayed the meaty folds with the tips of her fingers, teasing Gareth with her glistening core, wincing when she flicked a forefinger over her clit.

With his suit in a crumpled heap, Gareth clambered onto the bed.

Amy giggled, spreading her thighs wider before she sighed for him to lick her.

“Suck my clit, Gaz,” Amy breathed. “Lick me before we fuck.”

It was madness, pure insanity, a sin. Gareth’s mind raced with the corruption. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he realised he shouldn’t be doing it to his sister, licking her sex was just so wrong…

…But the scent of her, Amy’s moans and the slick flesh against his tongue inflamed Gareth so much he couldn’t resist. He just couldn’t summon the will. Even if his life depended upon it, Gareth wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from lapping his sister’s essence.

He licked and sucked and fingered Amy’s sex, goading her towards a squirming, gasping climax. Gareth went at her, the lean muscles in his sister’s thighs against his hands while he held her wide open and vulnerable.

Gareth’s palms slid over the rack of Amy’s ribs, hands cupped over her tiny tits as he mauled her flesh and Amy writhed and wriggled.

She held her brother’s head close to her body while grinding her pubis against his face, her clit sliding over Gareth’s nose.

“Ooh, lick me,” Amy mewled. “Suck my clit, lick my pussy. Use two fingers in there, babe.”

She levered up onto her elbows, chin tucked onto her chest while Amy stared down over her body to watch her brother working at her.

“Oh God, we’re damned,” Amy groaned, the words clotted with desire. “It’s so wrong, but I don’t want you to stop. Gareth, babe, I’m going to--”

Amy’s head lolled back. She grunted her pleasure at the ceiling, eyes closed, mouth open while her hips jerked back-and-forth.

“It’s close, Gaz,” Amy squealed, nose wrinkled as she stared at him, awed by the sensations, eyes heavy-lidded, her orgasm coming at her in a hard rush. “Keep fingering my cunt,” Amy snarled, fingers clawing at the bed. “Keep on doing it. Just there. Rub me. Gaz, oh babe, I’m … I’m … It’s so fucking close--”

***


Gareth was on the ladder-backed chair, the wooden seat hard beneath his buttocks. His sister straddled him, her arms around his neck while she kept her feet planted against the carpet, thighs flexing as she rode up and down, soft moans and gasps coming out of her.

Buttery gloop clung to Gareth’s shaft, creamy evidence of his sister’s arousal as he cupped her buttocks and squeezed.

“Oh fuck, Amy … You’re so lovely. What a body … I can’t believe we’re fucking.”

“Shut up,” Amy groaned in reply, head ducking in to silence her brother by forcing her tongue into his mouth. They kissed, with Amy settling down, Gareth’s full length inside her, her hips never quite still. “Don’t talk about us. Forget who we are. Just for now, Gaz. There’s going to be time enough for questions tomorrow. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Wuh-will we ever do it again?” Gareth gasped, forcing himself up, fucking into his sister.

“No … I don’t know,” Amy mumbled. “We shouldn’t, but--” She gasped and closed her eyes, arms tightening around Gareth as she pulled his head to her chest. “We can’t,” Amy breathed.

She paused and then lifted herself off Gareth’s length. Dancing towards the bed, Amy looked back at him. “Now, stop going on about it. Get over here and fuck me. Give it to me hard and fast. Make me scream.” She lay on her back and spread her legs, slapping her vulva with the palm of one hand, the liquid smacking sound reached Gareth, goading him into standing. “Smash me,” Amy squeaked as he advanced.

Gareth jacked his length when he approached, his attention focussed on his sister’s face.

“You asked for it,” he growled, eyes ablaze.

“I did,” Amy replied, grinning.


***

Melody Cartwright left the reception. It had been a long day – enjoyable and full of precious moments, but exhausting nevertheless.

“I’m going home,” she said to Jennifer before escaping the throng. “It’s been wonderful, darling.”

Jennifer hugged her mother, kissing Melody’s cheek, eyes glistening with happiness. “Thank you for everything, Mum. See you tomorrow before we go to the airport. We’ll call in at home.”

Another embrace and the two women parted. Melody smiled at her new son-in-law, waggling her fingers while mouthing, “Goodnight, Simon.”

The groom smiled and waved and then raised a glass in silent toast.

Melody looked around the room, peering in through the confusion of flashing disco lights in search of Amy. Frowning, she moved through the wide doorway, glancing left and right along the long corridor.

“Is the car waiting for me?” Melody asked the attentive young woman at the reception desk in the foyer. “Could you tell the driver I’ll be a minute or two? I just have to find my other daughter. It’s early and she’ll probably want to stay, but I need to make sure.”

“Absolutely, Mrs Cartwright,” the girl replied, already on her way from behind the desk.

It took Melody a few minutes of searching before she thought about Gareth. Then she realised she hadn’t seen her son for some time, either.

She climbed the stairs and found his room.

“Gareth?” Melody called out as she opened the door following a cursory knock. “Have you seen Amy?” she asked, stepping inside. “I’m going home and--”
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