Spleeping Desires
Igor Pajic
Sleeping Desires
Igor Pajic
Taboo Dreams
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Copyright © 2025 Igor Pajic
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: Taboo Dreams
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: Taboo Dreams
"Hey Ian, can you pass the salt?" Rachel called out from the kitchen.
"Sure," Ian replied, his eyes lingering on the TV.
"Thanks," Rachel said, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "Could you maybe tear yourself away from that game for two seconds?"
Ian sighed and pushed himself off the couch, the leather squeaking under his weight. Rachel was his mother, but lately she'd been looking more like a celebrity than the woman who'd tucked him into bed with a story every night. Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of her lacy bra, and her skirt clung to her curves in a way that had Ian's thoughts straying to places they really shouldn't.
"Here you go," he said, setting the salt shaker down on the counter with a clink. Rachel's eyes met his for a brief moment, and Ian felt his face flush. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help it. She was so beautiful, especially for a woman of fifty. Her hair, a rich shade of auburn, fell in waves over her shoulders, and her makeup was always just right, like she'd stepped out of a magazine.
"Ian," Rachel said, her voice softer now. "You've been acting weird lately."
He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. "Just got a lot on my mind."
"Girls?" Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I guess."
Rachel chuckled. "You're a good kid, Ian. Just remember, you can talk to me about anything."
Her words hung in the air, and Ian felt his heart race. Talk to her? He could barely even look at her without imagining what she'd look like naked, without imagining what it would feel like to touch her. Rachel had no idea the kinds of thoughts that were going through his head, the kind of desires he was trying to keep hidden.
As Rachel turned back to the stove, Ian took a step closer, his eyes drawn to her firm, round ass. It was all he could do not to reach out and touch it. He'd been dreaming about Rachel and Ivy, his hot older sister, every night, but it was never enough. The need inside him was growing, and he had to find a way to satisfy it.
"How's school?" Rachel asked over her shoulder, stirring the pot of stew.
"Fine," Ian mumbled, his eyes still glued to Rachel's body.
The kitchen was warm and smelled of simmering meat and vegetables, but Ian felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he thought about his plan. He'd bought a bottle of ethanol from the pharmacy, and tonight, while they slept, he was going to use it to make his dreams come true. It was wrong, but he couldn't help it. The thought of being with Rachel and Ivy was driving him crazy.
He'd start slow, just to test the waters. Maybe just a hand on Rachel's thigh tonight, and if she didn't wake up, he'd try more tomorrow. The anticipation was killing him, and he could feel his pants growing tight as he thought about what he was going to do.
"Alright, dinner's almost ready," Rachel announced, snapping Ian out of his trance. "Go get Ivy, will you?"
"Sure," Ian said, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a deep breath and headed down the hall to his sister's room, his hand trembling slightly.
This was it. This was the start of something he knew he shouldn't do, but he couldn't help himself. He was going to take what he wanted, and no one would ever know.
Ian knocked gently on Ivy's door. "Dinner's almost ready," he called out, his heart racing. He heard the sound of her chair scraping against the floor as she pushed herself up from her desk. She opened the door, her hair messy from studying and her glasses perched on the end of her nose. Despite the casual look, she was still breathtakingly sexy. Ian's eyes raked over her body, taking in her tight-fitting sweater and the way her jeans hugged her hips.
"Okay, I'll be right there," she said, her voice sweet and innocent.
Ian's mouth went dry. He wanted to tell her to stay, to come with him right now and do all the things he'd been imagining, but he knew he had to wait. He forced a smile and nodded, then headed back to the kitchen, his thoughts racing.
Dinner passed in a blur, the conversation stilted and awkward. Ian could barely keep his eyes off Rachel and Ivy, and every time they talked, he imagined their voices whispering dirty secrets in his ear. His mind was a whirlwind of fantasy and guilt, and he couldn't focus on anything else.
As the plates were cleared and Rachel started the dishes, Ian took the bottle of ethanol upstairs to his room. His heart pounded in his chest as he studied the clear liquid. It was a simple plan, really. Just a few drops on the piece of cloth tonight, and by tomorrow, he'd be living out his wildest dreams.
The night was warm, but Ian felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He knew this was wrong, but the thrill of the forbidden was too much to resist. He was going to take what he wanted, no matter the cost.
He watched them sleep, his eyes lingering on their peaceful faces. Rachel's chest rose and fell gently, and Ian's cock grew hard at the thought of what was to come. He knew he had to be careful, had to make sure they didn't wake up. But the temptation was too great, and as the clock ticked closer to midnight, he found himself unable to wait any longer.
He approached Rachel's bed first, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure it would wake her. But she remained still, her breathing even and deep. He leaned over her, his hand shaking as he placed the damp cloth over her nose and mouth. He held it there for a few seconds, watching her face for any signs of distress, but she was out cold. The smell of the alcohol was strong, but Rachel didn't stir.
With trembling hands, Ian reached under the covers and began to explore Rachel's body. His fingertips traced the softness of her skin, her breasts firm and warm beneath his touch. He couldn't believe he was finally doing this, that he had her all to himself. He squeezed gently, feeling the weight of her in his hand, and a quiet groan of pleasure escaped his lips. Rachel's skin was like silk, her nipples hardening at his touch.
Moving down her body, Ian slid his hand between Rachel's legs, feeling the heat of her pussy through her thin panties. He was so close, so very close to his ultimate prize, but he reminded himself to take it slow. Tonight was just a test, a taste of what was to come. He slid a finger along the fabric, feeling the dampness that had already started to gather there. He closed his eyes, imagining what it would be like to slip inside her, to feel her warmth and wetness surrounding him.
But then he stopped, his breathing ragged. He didn't want to go too far tonight. He needed to make sure the dose was just right, that they wouldn't remember anything in the morning. So he pulled his hand back and leaned over, giving Rachel a soft kiss on the lips. He felt a twinge of guilt, but it was quickly overridden by the thrill of his taboo actions.
Next was Ivy. He tiptoed to her room, his heart racing even faster now. She was younger, but no less desirable. He repeated the process, watching as she succumbed to the drug just as Rachel had. He took a moment to admire her naked body, her perky breasts and tight abs that he'd seen countless times in her bikinis.
He began to touch her, starting with her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples until they stood at attention. He felt a surge of lust, his cock straining against his pants. But he held back, telling himself that tonight was just about exploration. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, and finally her lips, feeling the softness of her skin against his.
Ivy's hand brushed against his leg, and for a moment, Ian thought she might wake up. But she remained still, lost in the oblivion of the ethanol. He took the opportunity to slide his hand down to her panties, feeling the smoothness of her skin and the wetness that awaited him. He rubbed her clit gently, watching her face for any sign of awareness.
Her body responded to his touch, her hips moving slightly, and he knew he'd found just the right amount. He didn't dare go further. He didn't want to risk it. Tonight was about the thrill of the chase, the anticipation of what was to come.
He pulled his hand away, his heart racing, and looked down at his erection, straining against his pants. He couldn't ignore it anymore. He needed relief. Carefully, so as not to make too much noise, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. It was so hard it hurt, and the sight of it, glistening with pre-cum, only made him more desperate.
With trembling hands, he began to stroke himself, his eyes never leaving Ivy's peaceful face. Each stroke was agonizingly slow, his mind racing with thoughts of what he could do to her, what she'd look like if she woke up and saw him like this. The fabric of her panties was damp with her arousal, and he could feel her heat radiating against his skin. It was all he could do not to plunge inside her right then and there.
But he had to be careful. He had to keep this his secret. So he focused on his own pleasure, his hand moving in a steady rhythm. Rachel's image flickered in his mind, and he switched back to her, imagining her naked body beneath him. Rachel and Ivy, both his to do with as he pleased, both completely oblivious to the depraved things he was about to do to them.
Finally, he couldn't hold back anymore. He came with a low groan, his cum spurting out and landing on Ivy's panties. He watched it soak into the fabric, mixing with her wetness, and felt a sense of triumph.
Tomorrow he will do more, he will use stronger dose just in case.
Morning came, and with it, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains of the kitchen, casting a warm glow on the wooden table where Ian sat. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, a pot simmering quietly on the counter behind him. His heart raced as he awaited the moment Rachel and Ivy would emerge from their drug-induced slumber. His eyes darted to the digital clock on the stove – 6:45 AM. Rachel usually woke up early to get ready for work, and Ivy would follow soon after for her college classes.
As the minutes ticked by, Ian felt a strange mix of excitement and dread. The reality of what he had done the night before was setting in, but the thrill of the unknown kept his anticipation high. What would their reactions be? Would they remember anything? Would they suspect him? These thoughts swirled in his mind as he nervously tapped his foot against the tiles.
Finally, Rachel appeared, her hair a tangled mess from sleep, and her eyes blinking sleepily. She was wearing one of his father's old t-shirts that barely covered her midriff, and the sight of her bare legs made his cock twitch in his pants. She yawned and stretched, her breasts lifting the fabric of the shirt, giving him a peek of her lacy bra. "Mm, coffee?" she mumbled, walking over to the pot without looking at him.
"Yeah, I made some," Ian replied, his voice a bit too eager. He watched as Rachel poured herself a cup, her movements slow and groggy. She took a sip and sighed contentedly, leaning against the counter. "Thanks, sweetheart."
Ian's heart skipped a beat at the casual affection in her voice. It was as if last night had never happened. Or had it? He studied her closely for any signs of discomfort or confusion, but she just seemed tired.
A few minutes later, Ivy stumbled into the room, her hair even messier than Rachel's, and her face still flushed from sleep. She was wearing an oversized hoodie that fell off one shoulder, revealing the strap of her bra. She yawned and rubbed her eyes before making a beeline for the coffee. "Mm, thanks, Ian," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.
They both sipped their coffee, the silence in the room heavy with unspoken tension. Ian's hand trembled slightly as he held his own mug, his mind racing with thoughts of the night before. Rachel and Ivy didn't seem any different, but he knew he was seeing them with new eyes now. The line between family and his dark desires had been blurred, and he wasn't sure if he could ever go back.
As they finished their coffee and began to get ready for the day, Ian felt a sense of relief wash over him. It was as if a weight had been lifted, the secret he'd been carrying with him like a burdensome backpack. He had done it, and they were none the wiser. The taste of victory was sweet, and he knew that tonight, he'd go further. Much further.
The hours dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity as Ian went through the motions of his daily routine. He couldn't focus on his schoolwork, his mind replaying the scenes from the previous night on a loop, his imagination running wild with what the coming darkness would bring. His thoughts grew bolder with each tick of the clock, his hunger for Rachel and Ivy's bodies growing more insatiable by the hour.
Finally, the sun began to dip below the horizon, and the house grew quiet as Rachel and Ivy retreated to their respective rooms to get ready for bed. Ian waited, his heart hammering in his chest, for what felt like an eternity. Each footstep on the stairs was a drumbeat in his ears, each creak in the floorboards a symphony of anticipation. He listened as Rachel's door clicked shut, and the sound of Ivy's TV faded to a murmur.
When he was sure they were both asleep, Ian slipped out of his room and into Rachel's. The moonlight spilled through the open curtains, casting a silver glow over her body. Rachel's chest rose and fell in a deep, rhythmic sleep, and Ian felt his cock thicken in his pants. He took a deep breath, his hand shaking as he reached for the bottle of ethanol he'd stowed away earlier. Tonight, the game was changing. Tonight, he would go further.
With meticulous care, he doused a cloth in the liquid and held it to Rachel's nose and mouth. She stirred slightly, but the potent fumes quickly overpowered her senses. Her body went slack, and Ian felt a thrill of excitement rush through him. He set the cloth aside and began to peel the covers away from her, his eyes feasting on her body.
Ivy's room was next, his heart racing as he tiptoed down the hall. He knew she was a light sleeper, so he had to be extra careful. He hovered over her, the cloth in his hand, and watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. He couldn't resist the urge to touch her, to feel her skin against his, but he knew he had to stay focused on Rachel tonight. With a silent apology, he placed the cloth over Ivy's nose and mouth, watching as she succumbed to the drug. He felt a pang of regret, but he had to keep his plan in check.
Ian returned to his mother's room as his excitement grew., He'd seen her naked before, in passing, but this was different. This time, she was his. He slid the shirt up her torso, his eyes widening at the sight of her perfect, round breasts. He leaned down, his breath hot on her skin, and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. Rachel's body responded with a soft moan, but she remained asleep. Ian's cock grew harder as he tasted her, the sweetness of her skin driving him wild.
He pulled back, his eyes greedily taking in the rest of her. Rachel's stomach was flat and toned, a testament to her dedication to yoga. He trailed kisses down her body, his hand sliding into her panties to find her pussy already slick with arousal. He groaned, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting her. But he had to wait, had to build the anticipation. Instead, he focused on her thighs, kissing and licking his way up to her mound. He took a moment to breathe in her scent, his cock throbbing with need.
With trembling fingers, Ian pushed Rachel's panties aside just enough to expose her glistening slit. He hovered there, his breath hot against her skin, before finally touching her with just the tip of one finger. Rachel's body jerked slightly, but she remained asleep, lost to the world. He rubbed her clit in slow, deliberate circles, watching her body tense and release with each pass. The temptation to push his finger inside her was almost unbearable, but he held back. This was just the beginning.
The sounds of Rachel's quiet moans filled the room, mixing with the distant hum of the TV from Ivy's room. Ian felt his resolve slipping, his desire to take her completely overwhelming him. But he had to keep control, had to make sure she was ready. He slid his finger along her folds, teasing her entrance just a bit, but was still scared to do more.
With one hand, Ian positioned his erect cock against Rachel's body, the tip brushing against her nipple. He watched as it hardened even more at the contact, and he couldn't resist the urge to trace it over her breast, painting a wet path across her skin. Rachel's breath hitched, but she remained asleep, her hand resting on her stomach. He took it gently, guiding it to his cock, wrapping her fingers around it. It was a surreal moment, feeling his mother's hand around him for the first time.
He began to move her hand, mimicking the movements she'd probably done countless times for his father, her own personal touch added to the fantasy. Rachel's hand felt so warm and soft, and he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning out loud. The sight of her fingers moving up and down his length was almost too much to bear, but he held back, not wanting to risk waking her up.
With Rachel's hand guiding him, Ian grew bolder. He slid her fingers down to the base of his cock and began to rub her palm against his sensitive skin, feeling himself get closer and closer to the edge. Rachel's breathing grew more rapid, and he wondered if she was dreaming about him, if she knew what was happening. But she didn't wake up, didn't move, and he took that as his cue to go on.
He leaned over, his cock brushing against her cheek, and whispered in her ear. "Mom," he breathed, his voice hoarse with lust. Rachel's eyes fluttered open for a moment, but she remained still, her eyes glazed over with the drug. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, unable to believe that he was doing this. He brought her hand back to his cock, her grip tightening slightly. He took it as a sign, his body trembling with need.
Ian began to move Rachel's hand faster, his hips thrusting gently into her palm. He felt her nails graze his skin, and it sent a shiver down his spine. It was like a dream, his mother's hand wrapped around him, stroking him off while she slept. He watched her face, her lips slightly parted, and imagined what she'd look like if she were awake, if she were begging for him. The thought made him even harder, and he knew he was close.
He leaned over, pressing his cock into Rachel's soft, warm breasts. He wanted to cum on her, to mark her as his, and the thought made his orgasm all the more intense. Rachel's hand moved in a blur, her fingers tightening around his shaft. Ian couldn't hold back anymore. With a strangled cry, he came, spurts of hot cum shooting out and covering Rachel's chest. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, a mix of pleasure and power that made his legs feel like they'd give out.
He watched as his seed seeped into Rachel's skin, her hand still moving up and down his cock. He'd never felt so alive, so in control. This was what he'd been craving, this connection with the woman he'd desired for so long. The room was filled with the scent of sex and ethanol, a heady mix that made him lightheaded. Rachel's hand grew still as his orgasm subsided, and Ian took a deep, shaky breath. He'd done it. He'd had his mother's hand on his cock, had come all over her beautiful body.
He carefully lifted Rachel's hand, placing it back on her stomach. He didn't want to risk her waking up and realizing what had happened. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her, his cum glistening on her skin in the moonlight. It was a moment he'd remember forever, one that would fuel his fantasies for the rest of his life.
With trembling hands, Ian reached down and traced the line of cum that had dripped from Rachel's chest to her neck. His cock, still semi-hard, left a sticky trail as he moved it along her skin, savoring the feeling of his own release on her body. He leaned in, placing a soft, gentle kiss on Rachel's parted lips. They were warm and inviting, and he felt a jolt of electricity run through him at the intimacy of the moment.
The room was silent except for their mingled breaths, and Ian's heart was racing. He slid his cock along Rachel's cheek, feeling the stickiness of his cum mix with her saliva. He reached down and took his index finger, coating it in the warm fluid that clung to him. He hovered over Rachel's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath, and then, ever so slowly, he pushed his finger between her lips. Rachel's tongue flicked out, tasting him, and Ian felt his cock twitch.
Her eyes remained closed, but her mouth began to suck on his finger, pulling it deeper. It was as if she was dreaming of him, of this moment, and her body was acting out her desires without her conscious mind's consent. Ian couldn't believe it – his mother was sucking his finger, and she had no idea what was happening. The thought was too much for him to handle, and he had to pull away, his heart racing and his cock fully erect again.
He watched Rachel for a few more moments, her mouth working his finger with surprising enthusiasm. He was torn between waking her up and seeing how far she'd go and leaving her to her dreams. But the fear of her remembering was too great, and he knew he had to end it. He gently slid his finger from her mouth, and Rachel's tongue followed, lapping at the last of his cum.
The sight was almost too much to handle, and Ian knew he had to move on to Ivy before he lost control completely. He stood up, his legs wobbly from the intensity of his climax. He took one last look at Rachel, her body spread out before him, and felt a mix of guilt and exhilaration. He'd crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, but the thrill was worth it.
He carefully made his way back to his room, his mind racing with thoughts of his mothers hand on his cock . He couldn't wait for tomorrow night, when he'd take things even further. As he lay in bed, he thought of Ivy, her hand just out of reach, and his cock began to throb again. The anticipation was unbearable, but he knew he had to wait. He had to plan, to make sure everything was perfect.
The morning light streamed in through the window, and Ian felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He opened his eyes to find Rachel standing over him, a concerned look etched on her beautiful features. "Ian, sweetie, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry. He realized he must have slept through his alarm, something he never did.
He sat up, trying to shake off the fog of sleep and the vivid dreams of the night before. "Yeah, Mom, I'm fine," he mumbled, his voice hoarse from his silent cries of passion. Rachel's eyes searched his, and he felt a brief flash of terror that she'd somehow know what he'd done. But she just nodded, her expression shifting to one of understanding.
"Ivy made us some breakfast," she said, gesturing towards the door. "Why don't you go wash up, and I'll bring you a plate?"
Ian nodded, his heart racing as he stumbled to the bathroom. He couldn't believe he'd slept through the whole morning, but the exhaustion from his nocturnal activities had claimed him. The sight of Rachel, fully dressed and going about her day, was like a slap in the face. He'd hoped to catch a glimpse of her in her morning daze, perhaps a hint of what she'd felt, but she was as put together as ever.
When he emerged from the bathroom, Rachel was already setting a plate of eggs and toast in front of him. Ivy sat at the table, her eyes glancing up from her book every so often to shoot him a small smile. It was a normal day, just like any other, except for the heavy secret that hung in the air.
As Rachel and Ivy chatted about their plans for the day, Ian felt like he was in a trance. Every word they said, every gesture they made, was loaded with meaning. Was Rachel acting differently? Did Ivy know? His mind was racing with questions, but he had to keep up the facade of normalcy.
He forced himself to eat, his appetite non-existent despite his raging hormones. The food tasted like cardboard, and he could barely focus on the conversation around him. All he could think about was last night, and how he'd soon do it all over again.
The day dragged on, each hour feeling like an eternity. He went through his classes in a daze, unable to focus on anything but the upcoming night. His thoughts of Rachel and Ivy consumed him, filling his every waking moment with a mix of excitement and dread. Would they suspect anything? Would they be different towards him?
When he finally returned home, the house was quiet. Rachel's car was in the driveway, but there was no sign of her or Ivy. He checked their rooms, his heart pounding. The anticipation was too much to handle, and he knew he couldn't wait. He had to have more of them, had to feel their bodies again.
He found Rachel in the living room, curled up on the couch with a book. She looked up as he entered, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked. Ian felt his cock stir, but Rachel's expression remained neutral. "Ivy went out with some friends," she said, her voice casual.
The words sent a jolt of excitement through him. Tonight was going to be the night he'd been planing to visit Ivy. He had to wait, though, had to keep his cool until she returns. "That's cool," he replied, trying to seem nonchalant. "What are you reading?"
Rachel held up the book, a steamy romance novel that made Ian's cheeks flush. She didn't seem to notice, though, lost in her own world. He took the opportunity to retreat to the kitchen, his thoughts racing. He had to act fast. He'd make tea, spike it with melatonin, and then wait for them to drink it. The plan was simple, but the anticipation was killing him.
After a quick search online, Ian found that mixing melatonin with the ethanol would significantly increase its potency. His heart raced as he pictured Rachel and Ivy, lost in a deep sleep, their bodies his to do with as he wished. He couldn't wait to push the boundaries even further.
He rushed to the drugstore, his mind racing with excitement and nerves. The clerk barely looked up as he bought the melatonin, and Ian felt a thrill at the ease of his purchase. The warmth of the bag in his hand was a promise of what was to come. He hurried home, the anticipation building with every step.
As he entered the house, Ivy walked in, her cheeks flushed from the cool evening air. "Hey, Ian," she said, her voice light and cheerful. He nodded in greeting, his mind already on the task at hand. Rachel called out from the living room, "Ivy's home, honey," and Ian took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He had to play it cool.
He made his way to the kitchen, his hands shaking slightly as he filled the kettle with water. Rachel wandered in, setting her book aside. "You okay?" she asked, noticing his nerves. Ian forced a smile. "Yeah, just had a lot of energy today."
The water began to boil, and Ian quickly added the melatonin to the teabags, stirring until they were fully dissolved. He hoped it would be enough to ensure they slept deeply tonight. Rachel and Ivy chatted in the other room, their laughter floating through the air like a taunt.
Finally, the tea was ready. He brought the steaming mugs into the living room, setting one down in front of Rachel and the other before Ivy. "I thought we could all wind down together," he said, his voice casual. Rachel took a sip, closing her eyes in appreciation. "This is perfect, Ian, thank you."
Ivy took a cautious sip, eyeing him over the rim of her mug. "You're so thoughtful," she said, a hint of suspicion in her tone. Ian's stomach lurched, but he forced a smile. "It's nothing, just trying to be helpful."
The three of them sat there, sipping their tea, the air thick with unspoken desires and secrets. Rachel yawned, and Ian felt a thrill run down his spine. It was working. He watched as Rachel's eyes grew heavier and heavier, as she went to her room.
Ivy took a bit longer to succumb, but eventually, she too began to feel the effects of the drug. Her eyelids grew droopy, and she slurred her words slightly. "Think... I'm going to... bed," she murmured, setting her mug down.
Ian waited, his heart racing, as she stumbled upstairs. He knew Rachel was already deep in sleep, and Ivy wouldn't be far behind. He waited for the sound of Ivy's door closing before he allowed himself to breathe again.
The house was quiet, the only sound the distant ticking of the clock in the hallway. Ian felt like a predator, his senses heightened as he approached Ivy's room. The door was ajar, a sliver of light spilling out into the darkness. He pushed it open slowly, his heart pounding in his chest.
Ivy lay on her bed, her breathing shallow and even. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, and Ian felt a twinge of guilt before shoving it aside. Tonight was the night when he will get a handjob from his sister.
He took out the bottle of ethanol from his pocket, his hand trembling slightly. Carefully, he soaked a piece of cloth and held it over Ivy's nose and mouth. She didn't stir, but her breathing grew deeper, and her body relaxed even more. He watched her chest rise and fall for a few moments, ensuring she was fully under before setting the cloth aside. He did the same with his mother, just in case she don't wake up and catch him.
As he returned to Ivy's room, his heart racing, Ian approached the bed, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of Ivy's barely covered body. Her t-shirt had ridden up, revealing the flat expanse of her stomach, and the thin fabric of her panties did nothing to hide the outline of her sex. He licked his lips, his cock already straining against his pants.
He reached out tentatively, his hand shaking as he touched the silky material. He could feel the heat of her skin through it, and he knew she was already wet with anticipation, even if she wasn't consciously aware of his presence. He slid the panties aside, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her bare, pink pussy. It was so different from Rachel's, and yet equally alluring.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He had to be careful, had to make sure she didn't wake up. With his other hand, Ian reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, freeing his hard cock. He leaned over her, his mouth just above her ear. "Ivy," he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. "Ivy, baby."
Her eyelids fluttered, but she didn't wake up. Ian took it as a sign, his finger sliding into her warm, wet folds. She was so tight, so inviting, and he had to fight the urge to plunge inside her right then and there. Instead, he focused on her clit, circling it gently. Ivy's hips began to move in response, a soft moan escaping her lips.
Encouraged, Ian slid another finger inside her, feeling her body tighten around him. He was careful not to go too deep, not wanting to risk her waking up. He pumped in and out, his thumb still teasing her clit, his eyes never leaving hers. Her breathing grew ragged, and he knew she was close.
With a final, feverish push, he felt Ivy's body tense and release. She came with a muffled cry, her pussy pulsing around his fingers. He held his breath, waiting for her to wake up, but she remained asleep, a small smile playing on her lips.
He pulled his hand away, his fingers glistening with her juices. He brought them to his mouth, tasting her for the first time, and the flavor was intoxicating. He'd wanted this for so long, and now he had it.
The thrill of victory surged through him, and he knew he had to go further. He slid his pants down, his cock standing at attention. He took another deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock brushing against her thigh.
He leaned down, his mouth watering as he took one of her perfect, pink nipples into his mouth. Ivy's body arched slightly, but she remained asleep, lost to the world. He sucked harder, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak, feeling it harden under his touch. He could feel her heart racing, her body responding to his ministrations despite her unconscious state.
Ian's hands roamed her body, caressing her smooth skin, feeling the curves and dips that had driven him wild for so long. He slid his cock against the fabric of her panties, feeling the heat of her pussy, her dampness seeping through. He had to have her, had to feel her tightness around him.
With trembling hands, Ian took Ivy's hand and placed it on his cock. It was a surreal moment, his sister's hand on him, and he had to bite his lip to keep from gasping. He began to move her hand slowly, guiding her to stroke him. Her grip was tentative at first, but he could feel her fingers tightening, her palm growing slick with his pre-cum.
Ivy's face remained serene, her features relaxed in sleep. Her breathing was steady, unaware of the intimate act her hand was performing. Ian watched her, his eyes feasting on her beauty, feeling a mix of power and fear. What would she think if she woke up now? Would she be disgusted or would she want more?
He couldn't help the feeling of triumph that filled him as he grew harder in her hand. His hips began to rock, pushing himself deeper into her palm. He felt her thumb graze the sensitive spot just below the head, and a moan slipped from his lips. Rachel had been his first, but Ivy was different. She was his sister, and the taboo of it all made it even more exhilarating.
The room was quiet, except for the sound of their breathing and the rustle of the bed sheets. Ian's mind raced with thoughts of what he'd do next. He knew he had to keep it up, to push the boundaries even further. He leaned over, whispering in her ear, his breath hot and heavy. "Ivy," he murmured, her name a prayer on his lips. "You feel so good."
He stared moving her hand faster now, almost as if she was doing it her self. He spited on his cock to increase the pleasure. Ian closed his eyes, letting the sensations wash over him. Rachel had been a conquest, a means to an end, but Ivy was something else. She was the girl next door, the one he'd always wanted but never thought he could have.
He could feel the tension building in his balls, his cock pulsing in her hand. He knew he was close, his body begging for release. But he had to wait, had to savor this moment. He leaned back, watching as her hand moved up and down, her fingers curled around him like a vice.
With a growl of need, Ian pushed Ivy's panties aside completely, exposing her bare, wet pussy to the cool air. It was like a beacon, calling to him, and he couldn't resist any longer. He positioned his cock at her entrance, his hand guiding her hand. He watched as a bead of pre-cum formed at the tip, glistening in the dim light of her room.
"Ivy," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I'm going to cum on you." He could feel her hand tighten around his cock, her thumb brushing over the sensitive spot. He knew he had to be careful not to wake her up, but the need was too great. He pushed himself closer, his cock head brushing against her clit.
Her body jerked slightly, but she remained asleep. He took it as a sign that she was okay with this, that her subconscious was giving him the green light. With one final, deep breath, Ian began to move her hand faster, his hips thrusting upward. He felt the pressure building, the tension coiling in his stomach.
And then it was too much. With a strangled cry, Ian came, his hot seed spurting out and covering Ivy's pussy. The sight was more than he could handle, and he felt a rush of pure, unfiltered lust. He'd marked her, claimed her in the most intimate way possible, and she'd never know.
He pulled back, panting, his cock still hard and covered with his cum. He looked down at her, his heart racing. Ivy's hand remained on his cock, her fingers moving slightly as if she was dreaming of him. He couldn't believe it had been so easy, so perfect.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He had to get cleaned up before to late. Carefully, Ian slid out from under Ivy's hand, his cock still pulsing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He wiped himself clean with a tissue, his eyes never leaving her sleeping form.
The room was still and quiet, the only sound their mingled breaths. He couldn't wait to do this again, to explore their bodies further. The thrill of the forbidden was too much to resist. But for now, he had to wait.
With one last, lingering look, Ian stood up and tiptoed out of the room. The house was dark, the only light coming from the moon outside. He made his way to the bathroom, his mind racing with the events of the night.
He cleaned up quickly, his thoughts on Rachel. What would she think if she knew what he'd done? Would she be disgusted, or would she want to join in? The thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through him, and he had to force himself to focus.
When he was done, Ian returned to his own room, his thoughts racing. He lay in bed, his hand idly stroking his still-hard cock. He couldn't get the images out of his head – Rachel's hand on him, Ivy's hand on him, their bodies open and willing even as they slept.
He knew he'd have to be more careful next time. The melatonin had worked wonders, but he couldn't rely on it forever. He had to find a way to make them crave him, to make them want him even when they were awake. The thought was exhilarating, a new challenge to conquer. But for now this is enough.
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Ian made his way back to the kitchen. He started the coffee machine, the aroma of the freshly brewed beans filling the house. He couldn't help but feel like a predator, stalking his prey. Rachel and Ivy were his to use, his to take, and he reveled in the power.
As the coffee brewed, he put together a simple breakfast – scrambled eggs, toast, and juice. It was the least he could do after the night he'd had with them. The kitchen was silent, the only sound the occasional crackle of the toaster. He couldn't help but glance upstairs, wondering when they'd wake up, and what he'd do next.
The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. He replayed the events of the night in his mind, the way Ivy's hand had felt on him, the way her body had responded to his touch. It was all so vivid, so real, and yet it could all be a dream.
Finally, the sound of footsteps on the stairs pulled him from his thoughts. Rachel appeared in the doorway, her hair a mess from sleep. She looked beautiful, even in her disheveled state. "Morning, Ian," she yawned, making her way to the coffeepot. "You're up early."
He forced a casual smile, his heart racing. "Couldn't sleep," he lied. "Thought I'd make breakfast for us." Rachel took a sip of her coffee, her eyes never leaving his. "That's sweet of you," she said, her voice warm. "How did you sleep?"
Ian's mind raced, trying to gauge if she knew anything. "Fine," he replied, his voice a little too high. "How about you?" Rachel just nodded, taking a seat at the table. "Like a rock."
Ivy stumbled in a few minutes later, rubbing her eyes. She looked just as gorgeous as her mother, her hair a wild mess around her shoulders. She blinked at Ian, and he felt his stomach flip. "You made breakfast?" she mumbled, taking a seat across from Rachel.
He nodded, his eyes darting between them. "Yeah, I thought we could all have a nice morning together." Rachel's smile was knowing, and Ian felt his cheeks flush. Did she suspect? Was she playing along?
They ate in silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Rachel and Ivy seemed oblivious, chatting about their plans for the day. But Ian couldn't focus. All he could think about was last night, the feel of Ivy's body under his hands, the taste of their skin.
As they finished their meal, Rachel stood, stretching languidly. "Well, I'm going to take a shower," she announced. "Thank you for breakfast, Ian."
Ivy nodded, her eyes on her plate. "Me too," she murmured. "Thanks."
He watched them go, his heart racing. He had to find a way to do it again, to make it even better. But first, he had to get through the day without giving himself away. The house felt too small, too suffocating, filled with the memories of their unknowing participation in his dark desires.
As Rachel's shower turned on, Ian couldn't resist the urge to listen, his imagination running wild with thoughts of her naked body, so close and yet so far. He had to keep it together, had to wait for the perfect moment.
The day was a blur, his mind racing with plans and fantasies. He went through the motions, his thoughts never far from Rachel and Ivy. When nightfall came, Ian felt like a caged animal, pacing in his room. He had to have them again, had to feel their bodies respond to his touch.
He took to the internet, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he searched for information on sleeping sex. The articles were varied, some claiming it was a myth, others recounting personal experiences that mirrored his own. The idea that they might feel something, that their bodies were responding on a subconscious level, was too tantalizing to ignore.
He found a discussion forum, filled with people sharing their own experiences with sleeping partners. Some were consensual, others... not so much. But the common thread was the intense arousal, the unspoken connection that seemed to exist between them even when the mind was unaware. Ian felt his cock stir as he read, his thoughts consumed by the possibility that Rachel and Ivy might crave him, even in their sleep.
The more he read, the more he became convinced that they were feeling something. Maybe it was the way Rachel's hand had tightened around his cock, or the way Ivy's body had arched when he'd whispered in her ear. The thought sent a thrill through him, and he knew he had to push the boundaries even further.
As the evening approached, Ian prepared the tea and coffee, adding a higher dose of melatonin than the night before. He had to be careful, though. If they started to get suspicious, he'd have to stop. But the thrill of the unknown was too tempting.
He waited until they'd had their dinner, watching them from the corner of his eye. Rachel was sipping coffee, and Ivy had a cup of tea. Perfect. He'd wait until they were both tired before making his move. The anticipation was torture, but it was a sweet kind of pain that he reveled in.
Finally, Rachel yawned and stood up. "I think I'm going to head to bed early," she said, her eyes half-lidded. "Long day tomorrow." Ivy nodded, her own eyes looking a little glazed. "Me too," she murmured, her voice sleepy.
Ian's heart raced as he followed them upstairs. He waited outside their doors, his hand shaking as he listened to the sounds of them getting ready for bed. The creak of the mattress, the rustle of clothes, the soft sighs of relaxation. It was agonizing, knowing what was about to happen.
He waited until their lights were out, until their breathing grew deep and even. Then, he slipped into Rachel's room, the smell of her perfume filling his nose. He approached her bedside, his cock already hard at the thought of what was to come.
He took out the bottle of ethanol, the clear liquid a symbol of his power and control. Carefully, he soaked the cloth again, his hand shaking slightly with excitement. Rachel's chest rose and fell steadily, and he knew she was in a deep sleep. He held the cloth to her face, watching her eyes flutter before they stilled.
Moving to Ivy's room, he repeated the process, his anticipation growing with each passing second. The thrill of the forbidden was like a drug, making his heart race and his cock throb. He placed the cloth over her nose and mouth, watching her succumb to the sweet oblivion of the drug. The silence was deafening, the weight of his actions pressing down on him.
Once both Rachel and Ivy were fully under the influence of the melatonin and ethanol cocktail, Ian returned to Rachel's room. The moon cast a soft glow on her form, her skin glowing like marble in the dim light. She was his first conquest, the woman who had fueled his fantasies for so long. He approached the bed, his hands trembling with excitement and fear.
The higher dose of melatonin had done its trick; Rachel's breathing was slow and deep, her body limp and unresponsive. Ian felt a rush of power knowing he had complete control over her. He slid his hand under the sheets, his fingertips brushing against the soft skin of her thigh. She didn't stir, so he grew bolder, moving his hand higher to cup her full breast.
Her skin was warm, and the weight of it in his palm was exhilarating. He knew he had to be gentle, to keep her in that perfect state between sleep and wakefulness. With trembling hands, he unhooked her bra and slid the straps down her arms. Rachel's breasts spilled out, the pale moonlight casting shadows across her nipples.
Ian's cock was a steel rod in his pants, and he knew he had to touch her, had to feel her. He slid his hand over her stomach, the softness of her skin making him groan with need. His thumb grazed her nipple, and Rachel's breathing hitched slightly. He held his breath, waiting for her to wake, but she remained still, lost to the world.
Emboldened, Ian took Rachel's breast in his hand, the weight of it feeling so real, so perfect. He'd always been fascinated by them, the way they'd bounce when she walked around the house, the way they filled out her clothes. Now, they were in his hand, and he couldn't resist the urge to play.
He leaned down, his mouth closing over her nipple, sucking greedily. It was like he was a baby again, seeking nourishment and comfort from his mother's body. Rachel's skin was warm, her nipple hardening under his tongue. He could feel the beat of her heart, the rush of her blood as he drew on her.
Her legs shifted slightly under the weight of his body, and Ian took it as an invitation to spread them wider. He settled between her thighs, his cock pressing against the fabric of his boxers. Rachel's pussy was so close, the heat of it searing his skin. He couldn't help the low moan that escaped his lips as he reached down to stroke her clit through her panties.
Her body arched, a soft whimper leaving her mouth, and he felt a thrill of victory. She was responsive, even in her sleep. He continued to suck her nipples, his other hand playing with her other breast.
Ian moved up, kissing Rachel's neck, feeling her pulse race under his lips. He knew he had to be careful, but the desire to claim her fully was overwhelming. He kissed her collarbone, her chin, before finally reaching her lips. He paused, his breath mingling with hers for a moment before he pressed his mouth to hers. It was gentle at first, a soft exploration, but it grew more urgent as the seconds ticked by.
He slid his tongue into Rachel's mouth, feeling the warmth and wetness that awaited him. Rachel's body was still, but Ian knew she was with him, even if only in her sleep. He tasted her, their tongues dancing together in a silent duet of lust. The taste of her was intoxicating, and he felt himself getting lost in the moment.
Pulling away, he took a moment to breathe, his heart racing. He had to be careful not to go too far, not to risk waking her up. But the need to know, to taste her most intimate place, was too great. He kissed her cheek, her jaw, his lips trailing down her neck to her chest. He kissed her collarbone, her cleavage, each kiss growing more fervent as he approached her breasts.
He paused, looking down at Rachel's sleeping form. He knew that what he was about to do was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. He had to know what she tasted like. He slid her panties to the side, revealing her bare pussy. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, filling the room like a sweet, musky perfume.
With a trembling hand, Ian slid a single finger inside Rachel, mimicking the way he had with Ivy. She was wet, so wet, and the tightness of her around his digit made him moan. Rachel's body reacted to his intrusion, her hips rolling slightly as he pushed in deeper. He watched her face, waiting for any sign that she was waking up, but she remained blissfully asleep.
Her pussy wasn't as tight as Ivy's, and it was a revelation to him. Rachel was more... welcoming, her folds parting more readily for his touch. It was a different kind of thrill, one that spoke of experience and maturity. He felt his cock throb in response, the idea that he was the one bringing her this pleasure in her sleep making him feel like a god.
He slid two fingers inside her now, curling them upward to hit that special spot. Rachel's body responded with a soft moan, her hips rising to meet his hand. He knew he had to be careful, not to go too fast or too hard. This was Rachel, his mother, and he didn't want to hurt her.
But the need to pleasure her, to make her feel good, was overwhelming. He watched as Rachel's chest rose and fell, her breathing growing more ragged. He could feel her pussy tightening around his fingers, her body begging for more.
Ian leaned down, his mouth watering as he hovered over her. He had to taste her, had to know what his mother felt like. He licked her clit tentatively, the taste of her making him groan. Rachel's body jerked, and for a moment, he thought she was going to wake up, but she remained asleep.
Encouraged, Ian grew bolder, his tongue delving into Rachel's pussy. It was like nothing he'd ever tasted before – sweet, salty, and musky all at once. The taste was intoxicating, driving him wild with desire. He licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around her clit, feeling her body respond to his ministrations. Rachel's legs spread wider, giving him full access to her most intimate parts.
Her breathing grew shallower, her hips rising to meet his mouth. He knew he was driving her closer to the edge, and the thought of making his mother cum was almost too much to handle. He slid his fingers in and out of her, his tongue never leaving her clit. Rachel's body began to quiver, and Ian felt the beginnings of her climax building.
He sucked harder, his other hand reaching up to pinch her nipple. Rachel's whimpers grew louder, and Ian felt his own cock throb in response. He was lost in the sensation of her, the taste of her, the power of her body under his control. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, a heady mix of love and lust that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
But then, Rachel's eyes fluttered open, and for a split second, Ian froze. Panic surged through him, his heart hammering in his chest. But her gaze was glazed, unfocused, and she didn't seem to see him. He realized that she was still deeply under the influence of the melatonin, her body reacting on pure instinct. The realization made him bolder, and he continued his assault on her clit, feeling the first spasms of her orgasm begin to tighten around his fingers.
Rachel's hips bucked, and a low, keening cry escaped her lips. Ian watched in awe as her body convulsed, her pussy clamping down on his digits. Her climax washed over her, and she shuddered beneath him, her breath coming in gasps. He felt a rush of excitement, his own cock pulsing with the need to be inside her.
Her body went limp as the last waves of pleasure receded, and Ian realized with a start that he had to be careful. He didn't want her to wake up just yet. He slid his fingers out of her, his mouth leaving her clit with a soft pop. Rachel's eyes remained closed, her chest heaving with the aftermath of her orgasm.
He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her, the way her skin glistened in the moonlight. Rachel looked so peaceful, so beautiful in her vulnerability. The wetness of her pussy was a testament to his skill, his ability to give her pleasure even when she was unaware of his presence.
Ian took his cock out of his boxers, the head pulsing with need. He couldn't wait any longer to feel her touch, to know that he was the one bringing her to climax. He took Rachel's hand, her fingers still slightly curled from her own orgasm, and placed his cock in her palm.
Her hand was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the firm grip he usually gave himself. Rachel's hand lay there, limp and unresisting, and Ian couldn't help the thrill that shot through him as he began to stroke himself with her hand. The feeling of her skin on his was electric, sending bolts of pleasure up his spine.
He watched her face closely, waiting for any sign of consciousness. But Rachel remained lost to the world, her features relaxed and serene. He knew he had to be careful; he didn't want to push her too far. The thrill was in the subtlety, the illicit nature of what they were doing without her knowing.
But Ian's desire was like a ravenous beast, demanding more. He slid Rachel's hand down to his cock again, feeling it pulse under her touch. He didn't want to take her mouth yet, not tonight. That was a step too far, a line he wasn't ready to cross. Instead, he focused on the here and now, the feel of her palm on his shaft.
He pushed aside Rachel's panties again, his cock seeking her warmth. The tip of his erection brushed against her wet folds, and he couldn't help but groan. Rachel's body was like a warm oven, inviting him in. He positioned himself at her entrance, the anticipation building to a crescendo.
Ian began to grind his cock on Rachel's pussy, the friction sending sparks through his body. Her skin was slick with her arousal, making the contact even more intense. Rachel's eyes remained closed, but her breathing grew erratic, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He knew he was pushing her closer to the edge again, and the power was intoxicating.
He slid Rachel's hand back to his cock, guiding her to stroke him gently. He watched as her fingers curled around his shaft, her grip tightening slightly as he continued to rub against her. Rachel's body was like a canvas, painting a picture of desire with every twitch and gasp. Ian felt like a maestro, conducting an orchestra of passion with his every move.
The friction grew more intense, Rachel's hand remaind still on his cock pressing it on her pussy. He could feel the wetness of her pussy coating his cock, the warmth of her body begging for more. Rachel's breathing grew ragged, her chest heaving with each shallow breath. Ian knew she was close, that she was feeling something, even if she didn't understand it.
The head of his cock slid against her clit, and Rachel's body tensed. He watched as her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth opening slightly. It was all Ian could do not to plunge into her right then and there, but he held back. He didn't want to wake her, not yet. He wanted her to be lost in the sensation, to be consumed by it without the burden of conscious thought.
He began to move faster, his hips grinding against Rachel's hand. The friction was unbearable, the pressure building in his balls. Rachel's hand on his cock was a sweet torment, her touch both gentle and firm. He knew he couldn't last much longer, the need to cum overwhelming.
With one final, desperate thrust, Ian's orgasm hit him like a freight train. He bucked his hips, Rachel's hand still on his cock pressing on her pussy as ropes of cum shot out, coating her hand ond panties dripping down her tight and entire pussy. The sight of her, his mother, covered in his cum, was almost too much to handle.
He watched, breathless, as Rachel's body reacted to his release. Her hips twitched, her legs tightened around his waist. He knew she felt something, that her body was responding to the warmth and wetness of him. It was a heady feeling, knowing that even in her sleep, Rachel was reacting to him.
Ian took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He slid Rachel's hand away from his cock, his cum smearing across her stomach. He couldn't resist the urge to touch it, his fingers sliding through the sticky mess. Rachel's skin was like silk, the contrast of his seed on her body a stark reminder of what he'd just done.
With trembling hands, Ian took the remaining drops of cum and brought them to Rachel's pussy. He hovered there for a moment, his cock still hard and demanding. The heady scent of their combined arousal filled the room, making him dizzy with need. Rachel's pussy was wet, her folds swollen and inviting. He knew he had to be careful, but the urge to mark her was too strong.
He squeezed the last of his cum onto her entrance, watching as it trickled down, coating her in his essence. Rachel's body quivered slightly, and he wondered if she was dreaming of him, of his cock filling her up. The thought made him throb even more, his need for her insatiable. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, trying to ignore the urge to slide into her right then and there.
But he had to be careful. He didn't want to take it too far, not yet. Instead, he slid his fingers into Rachel, the warmth and wetness of her pussy enveloping him like a velvet glove. He pushed the cum deeper, feeling her tightness clench around him. Rachel's breath hitched, and Ian paused, his heart racing. Had she felt it? Did she know what was happening?
Her eyes remained closed, but her body was speaking volumes. He watched as her nipples hardened, her breasts rising and falling with her rapid breathing. Ian's cock was still pulsing with need, but he knew he had to stop before he lost control completely. He pulled his fingers out, the wetness of her pussy clinging to them, and reached for her bra.
With trembling hands, he placed it on the bedside table, deliberately leaving it in her line of sight. He hoped it would stir something in her mind when she woke up, a hint of the forbidden pleasure they'd shared. Rachel's breathing evened out, and Ian knew she was lost in the depths of sleep once more.
He took a moment to appreciate Rachel's beauty, her flushed skin and swollen lips, the soft mounds of her breasts rising and falling with each breath. The scent of sex hung in the air, a potent reminder of his actions. Carefully, he wiped away the traces of his climax from Rachel's body, cleaning her up as if the night had been nothing but a vivid dream.
With one last lingering look, Ian slipped out of Rachel's room and tiptoed to Ivy's. The door was ajar, and a sliver of moonlight cut across the floor, highlighting her form on the bed. He approached, his heart racing, and gently touched her shoulder.
"Ivy," he whispered, "Ivy, wake up." But her eyes remained closed, her breathing unchanged. The potent melatonin cocktail had worked too well; she was lost in a deep slumber. He tried again, a little more forcefully this time, shaking her gently. "You're having a bad dream," he murmured, trying to mimic the concern he'd seen Rachel wear countless times.
Ivy's body remained limp, unresponsive to his touch. The sight of her, so peaceful yet so vulnerable, sent a thrill through him. He knew he had to be careful with her, she is his sister. But the allure of her barely covered body was too tempting to resist. He leaned over, his breath hot against her ear. "Wake up, Ivy" he whispered, his voice thick with desire.
Her eyelids fluttered, but she remained in the embrace of the melatonin. Ian felt a pang of disappointment, but his excitement didn't wane. He knew he could still enjoy her without her full participation.
He took a deep breath, the sweet scent of Rachel's arousal still lingering on his fingers. But now, his eyes were on Ivy, his sister, the one whose beauty had haunted his dreams since she had blossomed into a woman.
Ian knew that tonight was not the night to take things that far with Ivy. He needed to be cautious, to bide his time. Rachel was one thing, but Ivy... she was untouched, pure in a way Rachel wasn't. He didn't want to ruin her, not like he had Rachel.
So he retreated to his own room, his head swimming with the memories of Rachel's body, the taste of her, the feel of her. He could still feel her hand on his cock, still feel the pulse of her pussy around his fingers. He lay in bed, his cock still hard, his mind racing with thoughts of what he could do next.
Morning came too fast, the sun's rays piercing through the blinds and painting bars of light on the floor. Ian groaned, rolling over to check the time. He had overslept, the digital clock on his nightstand taunting him with its red glow. He had school in less than an hour, and he knew he couldn't miss another day.
The events of the night before played back in his mind, a sordid dance of lust and taboo. Rachel's hand, sticky with his cum, the way her body had responded to his touch even in sleep. It was a heady mix of excitement and guilt, a cocktail that had him both terrified and exhilarated. He had to get out of bed, to face the day, but his body was still heavy with the weight of his desires.
Ian threw on some clothes and rushed to the kitchen, hoping to find Rachel and Ivy still sleeping. But as he entered, the aroma of fresh pancakes and syrup greeted him, along with the unexpected sight of Ivy sitting at the table, her hair a wild tangle from sleep. Rachel, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of tight, low-slung shorts, was at the stove, flipping pancakes with a spatula. She was humming a cheerful tune, her hips swaying to an unheard beat as she danced.
The sight of her was jarring, a stark contrast to the dark, lustful fantasies that had consumed him only hours before. Rachel looked so... normal, so motherly, and yet he knew the secrets her body had revealed. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal as he watched her, the soft jiggle of her ass as she moved to the music, her long legs bared and tantalizing.
"Morning, Ian," Rachel sang out, turning to smile at him. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the stove, and she looked... happy. He felt a stab of guilt, but it was quickly swallowed by the need to be near her, to bask in her warmth. "Sleep in a bit?" she teased, her voice light and playful.
Ian nodded, trying to push away the memories of the night. "Yeah, I guess I was tired." He couldn't meet her eyes, afraid she'd see the truth written there. Rachel handed him a plate of steaming pancakes, her fingers brushing against his as he took it. The touch sent a bolt of electricity through him, and he had to fight the urge to drop the plate and drag her into his arms.
"Thanks, Mom," he managed to murmur, his voice thick with unspoken need. Rachel's smile grew a little wider, a knowing glint in her eye. Had she felt something? Did she suspect? Ian's heart raced as he sat down across from Ivy, who was already devouring her breakfast with gusto.
"Did you sleep well, Mom?" Ian asked, his voice a little too eager. Rachel's gaze flickered to him for a moment, a hint of something unreadable in her expression before she turned back to the stove. "Like a baby," she replied, flipping another pancake. "It's like I've been running on fumes for weeks and finally got a full tank of gas."
Ian's heart skipped a beat. Could she have felt something? Did she know what he had done to her in the night? Rachel's laughter filled the kitchen, a sound so sweet and innocent it made him ache. She was oblivious to the fact that he had been the one to give her that release, to set her free from whatever pent-up desires had been plaguing her.
The confidence surged through him as he took a bite of his pancake, the sweetness of the syrup mingling with the bitter taste of his own guilt. Rachel had always been so attentive, so loving, and now he knew that he could be the one to satisfy her in ways she never knew she needed.
After scarfing down his breakfast, Ian grabbed his backpack and bolted out the door, leaving Rachel and Ivy to their morning ritual. The cool air outside was a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the reality he was trying to escape. But the feeling of Rachel's hand on his cock lingered, a warmth that stayed with him as he walked to the bus stop.
What's with you mom, Ivy asked as they sat finishing their coffee and pancakes. Rachel's cheery demeanor was a stark contrast to her usual morning self, which was more of a sleepy blur until the first cup of caffeine had done its work. Rachel looked up from her plate, wiping a stray drop of syrup from the corner of her mouth. She felt... different, lighter somehow, as if a burden had been lifted during the night. The question caught her off-guard, but she brushed it off with a laugh.
"Oh, I just had a really good sleep, I guess," Rachel replied, her voice light and airy. She didn't dare mention the intense dream she had had, the one where she felt like she was floating on a cloud of pleasure. It was so vivid, so real that even now she could feel the aftershocks of a powerful orgasm deep in her core. She knew it had been a dream, but it felt like more than that. It felt like... a gift from the universe, a rare moment of respite from the daily grind.
Ivy nodded, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Well, whatever it was, keep it up. You look... radiant." Rachel blushed, the compliment hitting her like a warm summer's breeze. Radiant wasn't a word she heard often, especially not from her own daughter. She felt a strange sense of gratitude towards Ian for the sweet lie he had told her. It was like he had given her a bouquet of roses that she could carry with her throughout the day, a secret smile that no one else knew the source of.
"Thanks, honey," Rachel murmured, taking a sip of her now-cool coffee. The words felt like a balm on her soul, soothing the ragged edges of doubt that had been plaguing her. Maybe she wasn't as old and unattractive as she sometimes felt. Maybe there was still a spark of the young woman she used to be, hidden beneath the layers of motherhood and responsibility.
"Odd thing is that i dont remember taking off my bra and playing with myself", she sad to ivy. Rachel's voice was tinged with a mix of confusion and a hint of something else - a secret thrill that she couldn't quite put into words. Ivy raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Really?" she asked, trying to keep the amusement from her tone. Rachel nodded, a small blush coloring her cheeks.
Ivy couldn't help but smirk at her mother's revelation. Rachel had always been a little uptight about her sexuality, preferring to keep those sorts of things to herself. But here she was, sharing something so intimate with her daughter. It was strange, but also a little... hot. Rachel's hand had been shaking slightly as she spoke, and Ivy couldn't help but wonder what had caused it.
"Mom do you do that often", Ivy asked, her eyes widening with a hint of excitement. Rachel laughed nervously, waving a hand in the air. "Oh no, darling, not at all," she said, hoping to brush off the topic. But something in Rachel's voice had changed, a softness that Ivy couldn't ignore. "It's just... I haven't felt that way in so long." Rachel's words trailed off, and she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.
"When i woke up i was so wet, so relieved, I knew what i have done last night, just dont remember it", Rachel confessed, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Ivy watched her, her own thoughts racing. Rachel had never been one to speak openly about her sexual needs or desires, and the sudden revelation was both surprising and intriguing. Rachel took a deep breath, her cheeks still flushed with color. "I don't know what got into me," she said, her eyes meeting Ivy's briefly before darting away again. "It's just... sometimes you need to let go, you know?"
"I know mom, since we are confessing, i do it to," Ivy said with a sly smile, "it's normal to have those kind of dreams." Rachel's eyes widened, the conversation taking a turn she hadn't anticipated. "What do you mean?" Rachel felt a sudden urge to understand, a thirst for knowledge about her daughter's intimate life that she had never before considered.
"Bur usually I'm awake when I do it," Ivy said with a laugh, cutting into her pancake with a knife. Rachel's eyes flicked to her daughter, a hint of surprise in her gaze. "You do?" Rachel couldn't believe she was having this conversation, but she found it strangely liberating. Ivy nodded, her smile never wavering. "Of course. I'm a grown woman, Mom."
"Good to know honey", Rachel sad to ivy, trying to keep the conversation light. She didn't know how to navigate the sudden shift in their dynamic, but there was something oddly comforting about the shared intimacy of their secret. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a side of Rachel that she hadn't known existed.
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Rachel, her thoughts consumed by the mysterious dream that had left her feeling so alive. She threw herself into her work, the housework taking on a rhythm that felt almost meditative. The dishes were washed, the laundry folded, the floors swept clean, all under the guise of normalcy. But Rachel's mind was anything but normal. It was racing with thoughts of the pleasure she had experienced, the way her body had responded to the unseen hand.
When Ian finally stumbled through the door, the scent of his school books and the outside world following him, Rachel felt a strange mix of relief and anticipation. She had managed to keep her secret to herself all day, but the sight of him sent a jolt of excitement through her body. Rachel watched him warily as he tossed his backpack onto the couch and headed to the kitchen, calling out for something to eat.
"Ivy, can you grab the milk?" Rachel called out, her voice a little too high. Ivy emerged from her room, her hair pulled back into a messy bun, and her shirt riding up to expose a sliver of her midriff. Rachel couldn't help but watch her daughter's hips sway as she walked, her mind wandering to the night before. Ian had been so... attentive, so careful with her. It was a stark contrast to the clumsy groping she had sometimes endured from her ex-husband.
"What's with mom", Ian asked Ivy casually, trying to gauge Rachel's behavior since morning. Rachel looked up from the sink, where she was washing dishes, and Ian could see the question in her eyes. She was still beautiful, even with the wrinkles that age had brought. Rachel had always been a stunning woman, and it was no wonder that he had developed these feelings for her.
"Did you know our mom masturbate in her sleep" , Ivy whispered to Ian while Rachel was in the bathroom. Ian's heart skipped a beat. He had hoped that Rachel's memory of the night would remain hazy, lost in the fog of sleep. He tried to play it cool, shrugging his shoulders and pretending to be surprised. "Really?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
"Yeah, she said she had this intense dream, and when she woke up, she was soaking wet," Ivy giggled, oblivious to the truth. Rachel's voice called out from the bathroom, breaking the tension. "Could you hand me a towel?" she asked. Ian's hand trembled slightly as he reached for the towel, his mind racing with thoughts of Rachel's wetness, her body responding to his touch even when she was unconscious.
He handed the towel to Ivy, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. There was something in her gaze, a spark of curiosity that made Ian's stomach flip. Was she onto him? Did she suspect something? He pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on Rachel's voice as she stepped into the kitchen, the towel wrapped around her waist, her skin glistening with the remnants of her shower.
"Thanks, Ivy," Rachel said, her voice still a little breathless from the rush of hot water. Ian couldn't help but stare, his eyes tracing the lines of Rachel's body, the way the towel clung to her curves. He felt his cock twitch in his pants, a reminder of the power he held over her in the night. Rachel took the towel and began to dry her hair, her eyes meeting Ian's for a moment. In that instant, he saw the same hunger, the same need that had driven him to drug her.
"I got lost to study, ill be in my room", Ian sad as Rachel wrapped the towel around herself. Rachel nodded, smiling at him as she padded barefoot across the kitchen floor. "Okay, honey. Dinner's at six."
Ian retreated to his room, his heart racing. He had to find a way to control his urges, to make sure Rachel didn't suspect anything. He pulled out his laptop and opened up a web browser, typing in a string of words that made his cheeks burn with both excitement and shame. The search results were a blur of medical jargon and pornographic images, but he sifted through them, desperate for any information that could help him understand what was happening.
He stumbled upon a few scientific studies about sleep patterns and the effects of melatonin and ethanol on the human body. The articles were dense, but he forced himself to read, his eyes scanning the pages for any mention of increased arousal or unconscious reactions to stimulation. He found a few case studies that spoke of people having vivid dreams and even acting out sexually in their sleep, but none that matched the extent of Rachel's response to his touch.
The more he read, the more Ian realized the gravity of his situation. He was playing with fire, and if Rachel or Ivy ever found out, the consequences would be catastrophic. Yet, the knowledge didn't deter him entirely. The thrill of his secret dominance over Rachel was too potent, too addictive. He craved it like a drug, the power he held in his trembling hands too tempting to resist.
He scoured through forums and articles, looking for any anecdotal evidence of others who had experienced similar reactions to the drug cocktail. The stories were varied, some disturbing, others eerily similar to his own. Yet, amidst the chaos of confessions and questions, he found something that made his stomach drop. A user had posted about their own experiences with sleeping partners and the use of melatonin. They had mentioned a rare side effect that caused increased arousal and even vivid, almost lucid dreams. Rachel's behavior, the way she had moved against his touch, the way her body had responded even as she slept, it all made sense now.
Encouraged by this newfound knowledge, Ian decided to proceed with caution. He would administer the drugs every other night, giving Rachel's and Ivy's body time to recover and hoping it would reduce the chances of her remembering anything. He needed her to remain oblivious, to keep the power dynamic in his favor. The thrill of the unknown was intoxicating, and he didn't want it to end.
It was dinner time, and Ian made his way to the kitchen, his heart racing with anticipation. Ivy was already there, chopping vegetables at the counter. She wore a low-cut blouse that revealed the tops of her breasts, and the sight made Ian's mouth water. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Rachel looked up as he entered, her eyes sparkling with the same secret pleasure that had haunted him all day.
They sat at the table and started chatting casually, discussing their days and the latest episode of Ivy's favorite TV show. Ivy's laughter was like a siren's call, and Ian found it difficult to concentrate on anything but the memories of her writhing beneath his touch. The conversation flowed easily, filled with the kind of comfort that only comes from years of shared experiences.
The dinner was a simple affair, Rachel's famous spaghetti and meatballs, a family favorite. Rachel had always been a fantastic cook, and Ian couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and possession as he watched them both dig in, his secret knowledge of Rachel's recent pleasure adding a spicy undercurrent to the mundane scene. Rachel's eyes twinkled as she told a story about her day at work, her laugh lines deepening as she recounted a particularly embarrassing moment.
Ivy's giggle was like music to Ian's ears, her beauty a constant reminder of the temptations that lay just beyond his reach. Ivy caught his lingering gaze and gave him a knowing smile, her eyes filled with a warmth that made his stomach flutter. Was she teasing him? Did she suspect something? He forced himself to focus on his food, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.
As they finished their meal, Rachel suggested they all sit down and watch some TV together. It was a simple request, one that Ian had done countless times before, but now it felt fraught with meaning. Rachel curled up on the couch, her bare legs stretching out in front of her, and Ian couldn't help but stare at the smooth expanse of skin. He sat down beside her, his body rigid with tension, his eyes glued to the flickering screen.
Ivy plopped down on the other side of Rachel, the couch groaning under their combined weight. Rachel's arm rested on the back, her hand brushing against Ian's shoulder. The innocent touch sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he had to resist the urge to lean in and kiss her neck. Instead, he focused on the sitcom playing out in front of them, the laugh track echoing hollowly in the room.
The night dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity as Ian waited for the perfect moment to make his move. Rachel yawned, her eyes drooping slightly, and Ian knew the time was approaching. He had to be patient, to wait until Rachel and Ivy were both deeply asleep before he could indulge in his dark obsession.
As Rachel began to clean up the dinner dishes, Ian offered a cup of tea, just like he had done so many times before. Rachel accepted gratefully, the warm liquid a comforting embrace after a long day. "Thanks, sweetie," she murmured, her voice thick with exhaustion. Ivy, too, took a cup, her eyes already glazed over with the beginnings of sleep. The scent of the brew filled the room, a heady aroma that seemed to carry with it a hint of promise and danger.
Quickly, Rachel and Ivy felt the effects of the drugs. Their movements grew sluggish, their words slurred as they stumbled through a sitcom rerun. Rachel leaned into the couch cushions, her eyes fluttering closed. Ivy's head lolled onto Rachel's shoulder, a soft snore escaping her lips. The TV's laugh track was the only sound in the room, a macabre soundtrack to Ian's dark thoughts.
Soon, Rachel and Ivy retreated to their respective bedrooms, the hallway a silent testament to their obliviousness. Rachel's door clicked shut, the sound echoing through Ian's mind like a gunshot. He waited, his breath shallow, his heart thundering in his chest. He checked his watch, timing the drug's peak effect. The anticipation was like a living thing, a creature coiled tightly in his gut, waiting to be unleashed.
Finally, when the house was bathed in the soft hum of their sleep, Ian tiptoed down the hallway, the cold floor a stark contrast to the heat of his intentions. His hand trembled slightly as he reached Rachel's door, the piece of cloth with the prepared ethanol clutched in his fist like a talisman. He eased it open, the darkness of the room wrapping around him like a lover's embrace. Rachel lay on her back, the moonlight casting a soft glow across her face, her features serene in sleep.
He approached the bed, his heart hammering in his chest like a drum. Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he placed the cloth over Rachel's nose and mouth, the alcohol-soaked fabric muffling the gentle sound of her breathing. He watched her intently, waiting for the telltale signs of the drug taking hold. Her body grew limp, her chest rising and falling in a deep, rhythmic cadence. The power thrilled through him, a heady mix of fear and excitement.
Moving with the stealth of a predator, Ian made his way to Ivy's room. The door creaked slightly as he pushed it open, the sliver of light from the hallway cutting through the darkness. His eyes adjusted quickly, and there she lay, the object of his other obsession. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, the fabric of her pajamas clinging to her curves like a lover's caress. He approached her bed, his steps silent on the plush carpet.
But tonight, Ivy had thrown him a curveball. She was lying on her stomach, her body an untouchable canvas in the moonlit room. It was a position that made his task much more difficult, but the challenge only served to excite him further. He knew he had to be careful not to wake her. The thrill of the hunt had become a part of the ritual, a delicate dance that brought him closer to the edge with every passing night.
He approached her bed, his eyes scanning her body with a hunger that was almost painful. He took a deep breath and placed the cloth over her nose and mouth, pressing down gently. The smell of her perfume filled his nostrils, a sweet scent that mingled with the harshness of the alcohol. He held it there for a few seconds longer than usual, watching her body for any signs of struggle. But she remained still, lost in the depths of her own dreams.
When Ivy's breathing grew deep and even, Ian carefully removed the cloth. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving her face. He waited for the moment when she would stir, the moment when he could slip into the role of the concerned brother, ready to comfort his sister after a terrible nightmare. But she remained still, her face a picture of peaceful repose.
With trembling hands, Ian began to slowly trace the outline of Ivy's spine, his fingers gliding over the smooth skin of her back. The feel of her body beneath his touch sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. He had dreamed of this moment for so long, the chance to explore his sister's body without her knowing. His touch grew bolder, his palms pressing into the flesh, feeling the warmth of her, the rise and fall of her ribcage with each breath she took.
He reached the waistband of her pajama pants, his heart racing as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric. With a gentle tug, he slid them down her hips, exposing the curve of her ass. His cock throbbed in his own pants, begging for release. He couldn't resist the urge any longer. He cupped her ass in his hand, feeling the softness and firmness of her flesh. The reality was so much better than his fantasies.
Her body was warm and pliant beneath his touch, a silent invitation to explore further. He squeezed gently, his fingers digging into her skin as he massaged her cheeks. The fabric of her panties was damp with anticipation, and he knew he had to taste her. He slid his hand down the back of her pants, feeling the wetness that awaited him. Rachel's breath hitched, but she remained asleep, lost in a world where Ian could be her silent lover.
With a deep breath, Ian pulled Ivy's panties down to her knees, exposing her to the cool air of the room. Her ass was perfectly round, the curves of her cheeks begging for his attention. He leaned in, his breath hot against her skin as he kissed the small of her back, moving down to her ass. Ivy's legs twitched, but she didn't wake up, the drug holding her in its embrace.
He sat on her legs, squeezing her ass, pulling it apart to reveal the pink, puckered hole of her anus and the soft folds of her pussy. The sight of her exposed like this was almost too much to handle. His cock was rock hard, straining against his pants. He had to have her.
Gently, he spread her cheeks, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive flesh. Ivy's body responded with a soft moan, the sound sending a bolt of excitement through him. He leaned down and kissed her there, his tongue flicking over the tight ring before moving down to her pussy. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, a sweet perfume that made his senses swim.
Ian's hand hovered over her entrance, his heart racing with excitement and fear. He slid a finger inside her, feeling the wetness that had soaked her panties. She was tight, but her body yielded to him, welcoming his intrusion. He stroked her gently, his movements tentative as he explored her folds, her body reacting to his touch with a soft shiver. Ivy's hand lay limp beside her, her wedding ring a silent sentinel of the taboo nature of their actions.
He couldn't believe he was doing this. His sister's body lay beneath him, open and vulnerable. He knew it was wrong, but the allure was too great. His finger slid in deeper, and he felt her pussy clench around him. Ivy's moan grew louder, the sound muffled by the pillow beneath her face. He stroked faster, the wetness of her cunt coating his hand, his own arousal reaching a fever pitch.
And then, without warning, she shifted, her ass pushing back against him. The sudden movement made him freeze, his heart skipping a beat. But she was still asleep, her body simply reacting to the sensations he provided. Encouraged, Ian took the opportunity to push his wet finger against Ivy's tight asshole. It took a moment, but with a gentle pressure, he felt the muscles give way, and his digit slipped inside her.
The sensation was like nothing he had ever felt before. The warm, velvety grip of her ass was a stark contrast to the tightness of her pussy around his other finger. He began to move them in tandem, pumping in and out, feeling her body respond in ways he had only imagined. Rachel's hand reached back and grabbed the bed sheets, her moans growing louder as he stroked her inner walls.
The sound of Ivy's pleasure filled the room, echoing in his ears like a siren's call. He knew he had to be careful, to not let her wake up fully, but the power of her unconscious reactions was too much to resist. He added a second finger to her pussy, stretching her further, and her hips bucked slightly in response. The sight of his fingers disappearing into her was too much for Ian to bear.
Ivy's orgasm came so fast,.so hard, that Ian was taken by surprise. Her body arched up off the bed, her back bowing like a drawn bow, and a guttural moan tore from her throat, raw and primal. He felt the muscles of her ass clamp down on his fingers, her pussy pulsing around them as she came, her climax shaking her to her very core. The force of it was like nothing he had ever experienced, a wild, untamed thing that filled him with a savage exhilaration.
Her legs trembled and her toes curled, the tension in her body a silent testament to the power of her release. Ian watched in awe as she rode the waves of pleasure, her skin slick with sweat, her breathing ragged and desperate. He could feel the aftershocks of her orgasm rippling through her, her body still quivering with the remnants of her peak. It was like watching a storm break over a landscape, powerful and unstoppable, leaving him in awe of the beauty and destruction in its wake, but she was still in deep sleep.
Gently, he pulled her hip higher and placed a small pillow underneath it, tilting her ass towards him at the perfect angle. His cock was now free from the confines of his pants, standing tall and proud, demanding attention. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her, the way the moonlight painted her body, the way her skin looked so soft and inviting. Then, with a deep breath, he positioned his head between her legs.
Ian's tongue darted out, tracing the folds of her pussy with the same reverence a painter might give to a canvas. She was so wet, so warm, and the taste of her was different from his mother's pussy . It was sweet and salty, a flavor that was uniquely hers, and it was all he could do not to devour her whole. He licked along her slit, savoring every inch of her, from the base of her clit to her entrance. Ivy's body responded to his touch, her thighs falling apart further as if inviting him in.
He pushed his tongue inside, feeling the way her muscles tightened around him. He had never tasted anything so good. Ivy's moans grew louder, her hips rocking slightly with every stroke. The sounds she made were like music to his ears, a symphony of pleasure that fueled his own desire. He pushed deeper, exploring the depths of her, the softness of her walls giving way to the heat of her core.
Her taste was intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and musk that made him want more. He swirled his tongue around, teasing her, feeling her body respond in ways that were both thrilling and terrifying. The power he had over her in this moment was like nothing he had ever felt before. He knew that if she were to wake up, she would be horrified, but the thrill of it all was too much to resist.
He slid his tongue down to her tight rosebud, feeling it quiver under the gentle pressure. He had always been curious about the taboo allure of tasting a woman's asshole, and now, with Ivy's unknowing consent, he had the opportunity to satisfy that curiosity. He licked it gently, savoring the taste, feeling it grow wetter with every pass. Ivy's breathing grew ragged, and he knew he was pushing her to the edge again.
He reached up and grabbed her hips, squeezing her ass as he lost control a bit, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Her moans grew louder, and he felt a rush of adrenaline. He knew he had to keep her quiet, but the temptation was too much. He thrust his tongue into her asshole, feeling her tighten around him as she came again, her body writhing beneath him.
Her skin was softer, smoother, silkier than Rachel's. It was like comparing velvet to satin. Rachel had the softness of mature womanhood, a comfort that spoke of years of care and love. Ivy's skin, however, was like the tender flesh of a fresh peach, unmarred by time or hardship. As he kissed his way back up her spine, he felt the smoothness of her back, the way it gave beneath his lips.
The sight of her ass was too much for him to resist. It was like a perfectly sculpted work of art, begging for his cock. Rachel had always been curvier, her ass a plump invitation to squeeze and spank. Ivy's was different, it was toned and firm from her years of dancing, a testament to her youth and vitality. The thought of sliding his cock between her cheeks was almost too much to handle.
He leaned in, his cock nudging against the softness of her skin. He felt the heat radiating from her, the gentle curve of her body beckoning to him. With trembling hands, Ian positioned himself, his cockhead poised at the entrance of her asshole. He knew he had to be gentle, to ease her into this new level of intimacy without causing pain or alarm.
With a deep breath, he spat on her ass, the saliva mixing with her natural lubricant to make the way smoother. He watched the glistening droplets slide down the crack of her ass, coating her skin. The act was degrading, but the thrill of it only served to fuel his desire.
He began to rock his hips, grinding his cock against her tight hole. The friction was exquisite, the feel of her skin against his sensitive head sending waves of pleasure through his body. He was so close to losing control, to plunging into her without thought or care, but he knew he had to be patient. He had to savor this moment, to make it last.
He slid his cock down to her pussy, teasing the entrance with the tip before moving back up to her asshole. Each pass was a sweet torment, the anticipation building with every stroke. Rachel's body was so responsive, her ass moving with his, urging him closer to the precipice. He could feel the tension in her muscles, the way she was holding herself open for him, even in her sleep.
The wetness of her pussy was like a siren's call, her juices coating his cock and making it slick. He knew that if he entered her now, she would be tight and warm, her body clamping down on him like a vice. The thought was almost too much to bear, but he held back, the thrill of the unknown driving him wild. He slid the head of his cock along her slit, feeling her wetness, her heat. Ivy's body quivered beneath him, her thighs parting wider, silently begging for more.
With a gentle rock of his hips, Ian buried his cock between her legs, the pressure against her clit making her moan softly into the pillow. The friction was electric, a symphony of sensations that shot through him like a bolt of lightning. Rachel's pussy was different, it was wetter, more welcoming, but this... this was something else entirely. It was like discovering a hidden garden, a place that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Her legs clossed tighter a silent invitation that Ian couldn't refuse. He pushed his cock against her pussy, feeling the wetness soak into his boxers, making his cock slick. The heat was unbearable, the urge to thrust into her overwhelming. He slid the head of his cock along her slit, feeling the way she quivered at his touch. Ivy's moan grew louder, a soft keening sound that seemed to echo through the room.
He didn't bother to remove his clothes, the urgency of the moment too intense. He simply fell on her entirely, grinding faster and harder against her pussy. The fabric of her panties and his boxers the only barrier between them. Her body responded with an arch of her back, her hips pushing back against him. It was as if she knew exactly what he needed, even in her drugged state. The friction was like nothing he had ever felt before, a delicious burn that spread through his body, setting his nerves alight.
Ian's hands slid under her hips, his grip firm and unyielding as he pushed himself against her. The fabric was soaked, his cock a steel rod against her softness. He could feel the slickness of her arousal seep through, coating his cock, making him want to rip her panties off and plunge into her. But he couldn't, not yet. The thrill of the risk, of doing something so wrong, was a part of the allure. He had to keep it going, to feel her body react to his touch without the full impact of his desire.
Her pussy was a warm, wet heaven, the friction against his cockhead driving him wild. He could feel his orgasm building, a storm gathering strength in his loins. He knew he couldn't hold back much longer. His hips moved faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart thundering in his chest. The room spun around him, a kaleidoscope of shadows and moonlight, as he approached the edge of ecstasy.
With a final, desperate thrust, Ian came. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, a release so powerful that it seemed to tear through his very soul. The fabric between them grew hot and wet, the evidence of his climax soaking into her panties. He could feel the tremors of her body beneath him, her silent cries of pleasure that matched his own.
For a moment, they lay there, entwined in a dance of passion and deception. Then, with trembling hands, he reached back and pulled his cock free. It emerged with a wet sound, the last of his cum dripping onto her asscheeks, leaving a trail of sticky warmth on her skin.
The room was thick with the scent his desire, a heady aroma that filled the air like a fine perfume. Ian stared down at Ivy's body, his breathing ragged, his heart hammering against his ribs. The sight of her, sprawled out on the bed, her panties just beneath her ass, was like a vision from a wet dream. He felt a surge of pride and guilt, knowing that he had taken something from her that she would never consciously give.
With trembling hands, he reached down to pull her pants and pajama bottoms back into place. The fabric slid up her legs with ease, the material caressing her skin like a lover's touch. Each inch revealed was a treasure to behold, a testament to her youth and beauty. He took a moment to appreciate her form, the way her hips curved, the gentle slope of her back leading down to her perfect ass. It was a sight that would be etched into his mind forever, a secret that only he knew.
Leaning over, Ian kissed Ivy's cheek gently, feeling the heat of her skin beneath his lips. It was a gesture of affection that he had performed countless times before, but now it was tinged with the sweetness of shared passion. The kiss was chaste, innocent in its intention, but it was a silent thank you for the gift she had unknowingly bestowed upon him. He whispered a soft apology into her ear, the guilt weighing heavy on his heart.
He pulled away, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He knew he had to get to bed before he start again. Carefully, he extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and clothes, his movements silent as a ghost. He took one last, lingering look at Ivy, her body splayed out on the bed like a sacrificial offering.
As Ian tiptoed out of the room, his heart racing in his chest, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The guilt was there, a constant companion whispering in his ear, but the thrill of what he had done was like a drug, making him crave more. He had crossed a line, but it was a line that could never be uncrossed, a bridge that could never be burned.
He made his way to the bathroom, the sound of his own breathing loud in his ears. As he washed up, he couldn't get the taste of Ivy out of his mouth, the scent of her skin off his hands. The water was cold, but it did little to quell the fire that raged within him. He felt alive, more alive than he had ever felt before. It was a heady mix of emotions, a cocktail of desire and self-loathing that threatened to consume him.
As he padded down the hallway, he saw the light from Rachel's room spilling out into the corridor. He stopped, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He had to check the woman who had unknowingly become his latest obsession. Rachel sat on the edge of her bed, her silk robe slipping open to reveal the swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist. She was a vision of beauty, a woman who had given him life and who now held the power to destroy it.
He pushed the door open slowly, his eyes never leaving her. Rachel's eyes were glazed over, a faint smile playing on her lips. She looked up at him, and for a moment, Ian felt like she could see through the darkness, into the very heart of his depravity. "Are you okay, Mom?" he asked, his voice a tight coil of nerves.
Rachel's response was a soft giggle, the kind that sent shivers down his spine. "I'm fine, Ian," she said, her voice thick and syrupy. "Just had the weirdest dream." She leaned back, the silk of her robe slipping away to reveal the fullness of her breasts, the hardened peaks of her nipples poking through the fabric of her nightgown. It was a sight that would normally have made his mouth water, but now it only served to remind him of the dark path he had chosen.
"What was it about?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched at the memory of her body.
"I can't remember," Rachel said, her voice still thick with sleep. "It was just... intense." She reached up to rub her temples, and Ian felt a pang of guilt. He had never intended for her to feel any discomfort, only to give her pleasure that she would never know was not a dream. "I think it was about you and Ivy," she murmured, her eyes slipping shut again.
"My head hurts like hell", she sad before collapsing on the bed with a dramatic flop. Rachel's words hung in the air, thick with the weight of a hangover or perhaps something more sinister. Ian's heart skipped a beat, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. Could she possibly know? He had been so careful with the dosages, so meticulous in his preparation.
The melatonin had been reliable so far, plunging them into a deep, dreamless sleep, allowing him to indulge his darkest desires without fear of repercussion. But Rachel had changed recently, her body seemingly developing a tolerance to the drug. He had to admit, it was a time for a break. If she began to suspect something, if she remembered even a fraction of what had occurred, it would be disastrous.
He approached Rachel's bed, his heart racing, his mind a tumult of guilt and excitement. He pulled the covers up to her chin, tucking her in with a gentleness that belied his depraved actions. Her skin was cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the heat of his own body. Rachel murmured something in her sleep, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his eyes lingering on her full, pouting lips. The urge to kiss them was overwhelming, a hunger that consumed him. But he knew he couldn't, not like that, not now. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, chaste kiss, feeling the warmth of her breath on his mouth. It was a kiss of gratitude, of ownership, a silent declaration of his perverse love. Rachel's eyes fluttered open for a moment, her gaze unfocused, and then closed again.
Ian stepped back, his heart racing. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of a cliff, the wind of his own depravity threatening to push him over. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions that raged within him. He had to get to his room, had to put some distance between them before he lost control completely.
With one final look at Rachel's sleeping form, he turned and walked away, his feet carrying him down the hallway like a man in a trance. Each step was a silent confession, a declaration of his twisted love. When he reached his room, he closed the door with a soft click, the sound echoing through the darkness like a gunshot.
Morning came with the shrill ring of the alarm clock, piercing the silence like a knife. It was Friday, and the knowledge that he had to pause his nocturnal escapades for the weekend was like a lead weight in his stomach. For two whole days, he would be denied the sweet release he had come to crave. Two days without Rachel's warm body, without Ivy's silky smooth skin, unknowing grip on his cock. It was a form of torture that he wasn't sure he could bear.
As he got ready for the day, Ian's thoughts were a whirlwind of anxiety and anticipation. What if Rachel remembered something? What if she noticed the way he looked at her differently now, with lust in his eyes instead of the affection of a loving son? He had to tread carefully, had to play the part of the concerned caretaker without giving away his true feelings.
Walking into the kitchen, the aroma of brewing coffee filled his nose, a welcome scent that grounded him in reality. Rachel was there, moving around with the grace of a gazelle, her long hair cascading down her back. She was dressed in a simple white blouse and black slacks, her professional attire belying the sensuality that lay beneath. She turned to him, a warm smile lighting up her face. "Good morning, Ian," she said, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves.
"You okay, Mom?" Ian asked, trying to keep his tone casual, his eyes scanning her for any signs of distress or suspicion. Rachel paused, a look of confusion flitting across her features for a brief moment before she nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired from last night's dreams," she said, pouring him a cup of coffee.
"I know,I was with you last night, you sad something about me and Ivy", Ian sad trying to find out what happened. Rachel's eyes widened in surprise, she had no idea she had talked in her sleep. "It was just a dream, nothing to worry about," she reassured him with a gentle smile. "But I'm feeling a bit off today, like I'm walking through a fog." Rachel reached out to him, her hand brushing against his forearm, sending a shiver down his spine. He had to play it cool, had to keep her from suspecting the truth. "Why don't you take the day off, Mom?" he suggested. "Rest up. I'll handle things around here."
Rachel's eyes searched his, a hint of suspicion flitting through them before she nodded. "Alright, I think I'll do that." She leaned into him, her breasts pressing against his chest. "Thank you, sweetheart." The way she said it, the warmth in her voice, made him want to confess everything. But he held his tongue, forcing a smile. "It's no problem. I'm happy to help."
The rest of the morning was a tense ballet of normalcy. Rachel sipped her coffee, her eyes often lingering on Ian, as if trying to read his thoughts. He avoided her gaze, focusing instead on his breakfast, the food tasting like ash in his mouth. Each minute that ticked by was an eternity, a countdown to the moment when he would be alone with Ivy again.
When Ivy finally entered the kitchen, she looked like a goddess who had just woken from a millennia-long slumber. Her hair fell around her shoulders in loose waves, her skin glowing with an ethereal light. She moved with a languid grace, each step seeming to take an eternity, as if she were waking from a dream world that she didn't want to leave. Ian's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, his cock twitching in his pants.
"Morning, Ivy," Rachel said, her voice a warm caress. "Did you sleep well?"
Ian watched his sister closely, his heart pounding in his chest. Her eyes were clear, her movements fluid, and he felt a surge of excitement. The melatonin had done its job, keeping Ivy deep in her slumber while he had explored her body like a starving man at a feast. The thought of Ivy waking up and finding out was a horror he couldn't bear. But she was oblivious, a testament to the power of the drug.
"Yeah, I slept like a baby," Ivy yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Her breasts pressed against her tight tank top, the fabric straining to contain them. Ian couldn't help but stare, his mind reeling with memories of his nocturnal adventure. Rachel's eyes followed his gaze, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He felt his cheeks flush, his guilt like a hot brand on his skin.
"That's good," Rachel said, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down Ian's spine. "You've been working so hard lately." She turned back to the stove, flipping the pancakes with a practiced ease that made Ian's heart race. Her ass swayed in her tight pants, a vision that had haunted his dreams and now filled his every waking moment. He forced himself to look away, to focus on his own breakfast.
Ivy yawned again, her mouth stretching wide in a display of perfect teeth and pink tongue. She shuffled over to the fridge, her bare feet padding softly on the cold kitchen floor. The hem of her shorts riding up, revealing the curve of her ass, the same ass he had claimed the night before. Rachel's smile grew, a knowing glint in her eye as she caught Ian's gaze. She turned back to the stove, the sizzle of the pan a seductive backdrop to the tension that filled the room.
As Ivy sat at the table, Rachel placed a plate of steaming pancakes in front of her. Ian couldn't help but watch as Ivy took a spoon and dipped it into her coffee, the dark liquid coating the metal. She brought it to her lips, her eyes meeting his as she licked the spoon, slow and deliberate, her tongue swirling around the spoon's head like it was a miniature phallus. It was a gesture that was both innocent and incredibly erotic, and Ian felt his cock twitch in his pants. Ivy's eyes never left his, the smile on her lips growing wider as she watched him squirm.
"What's with you", Ian asked her, trying to sound nonchalant while his insides squirmed with excitement.
Ivy giggled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "What do you mean?"
"You're just... acting weird," Ian stuttered, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. Rachel turned around, a spatula in her hand, and raised an eyebrow. "Is everything okay, you two?"
Ivy's smile grew, a knowing glint in her eye. "I think Ian's just feeling a little... frustrated." Rachel's gaze flickered between them, a hint of concern in her eyes. "Is everything alright, Ian?"
He forced a laugh, trying to dispel the tension. "Yeah, just school, I guess." Rachel nodded, seemingly satisfied, and turned back to the stove. Ian's mind raced, his thoughts a tumult of lust and fear. Had Ivy sensed something? Or was she just playing a game with him? He had to get a grip, had to keep his desires in check.
When Ivy finally left for college, Rachel turned to him, her expression unreadable. "Ivy seems a bit... off today," she said, her eyes searching his. "Do you know what's going on with her?"
Ian felt his heart skip a beat. Did Rachel suspect something? He took a sip of his coffee, trying to keep his hand from shaking. "No," he said, his voice a tightrope walk of calm. "Just slept well, I guess."
Rachel's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she nodded, turning back to the stove. The silence between them grew thick, the only sound the sizzle of the pan and the tick of the clock. Ian's mind was racing, trying to figure out what Ivy might have said or done to make Rachel suspicious.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of chores and awkward interactions. Rachel remained distant, her eyes often drifting to him with an intensity that made his skin crawl. He couldn't shake the feeling that she knew something, that she was just biding her time, waiting for him to slip up.
When the clock finally struck eight, Rachel turned to him, her expression a mask of forced cheer. "Ivy just texted," she said, holding up her phone. "She's going to be home late tonight. She has a study group that went overtime."
Ian felt a twinge of disappointment. No Ivy tonight. But Rachel was here, her eyes on him, and the idea of being alone with her was both thrilling and terrifying. "We could watch a movie later," Rachel suggested, a hint of mischief in her tone.
"Sure, Mom," Ian replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "What do you want to watch?"
Rachel's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, and she giggled as she said, "Oh, I've got just the thing." She disappeared into the living room, returning with a DVD case titled "Forbidden Pleasures." Ian's heart skipped a beat. Was she testing him? Playing some twisted game? He couldn't tell if it was coincidence or something more. Rachel slid the disc into the player and dimmed the lights, the room plunging into a seductive darkness that matched his thoughts.
They sat on the couch, Rachel's body close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her, could smell the sweet scent of her perfume. She poured herself a glass of wine, the liquid glinting in the soft glow of the TV. She took a sip, her throat moving in a way that made his cock throb. She held out the bottle to him, her eyes never leaving his. "Want some?" she asked, her voice a sultry whisper.
"I don't like wine, Ian replied," his voice sounding strange in his own ears. Rachel's smile didn't falter, but something in her gaze changed, a hint of challenge, perhaps. "More for me, then," she said, her lips curving into a knowing smile that sent a shiver down his spine.
The movie began to play, a soft porn flick that Rachel had picked out. It was the kind of film that would normally have Ian's full attention, but tonight, he couldn't focus. Rachel's presence was too distracting, her scent too intoxicating. Every moan and sigh from the TV was a siren's call, drawing him closer to the edge of his seat. He felt like a bomb ready to go off at any moment.
Ian couldn't help but wonder if the melatonin was affecting Rachel differently. She had always been a bit of a prude, but tonight, she was giggling at the most inane parts of the film, her cheeks flushed with color. She leaned back against the couch cushions, her legs stretching out in front of her, the hem of her skirt riding up to expose the tops of her thighs. Rachel took another sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving the screen.
He found himself watching her instead of the movie, his cock growing harder with every little giggle that escaped her lips. Her body was a symphony of sensuality, each movement a tantalizing tease. Rachel was oblivious to his gaze, her eyes glazed over with the effects of the alcohol. Ian felt a twinge of guilt, but it was quickly overridden by the thrill of the moment.
"Mom, don't you think this movie is inappropriate for the two of us to watch together?" he blurted out, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them. Rachel looked at him, her eyes a mix of surprise and confusion. "What do you mean, sweetheart?" she asked, taking another sip of her wine.
"Well, it's just... it's a bit... adult," Ian stuttered, his face growing hot. Rachel's smile grew wider, and she leaned over to pat his knee. "We are both adults, after all," she replied, her voice dripping with a seductive sweetness that made him swallow hard. "Besides, it's just a little fun, isn't it?"
Ian's mind raced as Rachel's hand lingered on his knee, her fingers tracing lazy circles. He didn't know how to respond, his thoughts a whirlwind of desire and fear. Rachel took another sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving the TV. The scene on the screen grew more explicit, a woman moaning as a man's hand groped her breasts. Rachel leaned back further into the couch, the fabric of her blouse stretching tightly over her chest.
"I guess it's just a bit... surprising," Ian managed to say, his voice strained. Rachel turned to him, her gaze sharp and focused despite the alcohol. "Surprising? Why is that, Ian?" she asked, her voice a purr that seemed to resonate through his body.
Ian felt trapped, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn't know how to answer without revealing his darkest secrets. "I just... I didn't know you watched this kind of stuff," he said lamely, his eyes darting to the TV screen and then back to Rachel. Rachel's smile grew, a knowing glint in her eye. "Well, everyone needs a little... escape, don't they?" she said, her hand moving from his knee to the hem of her skirt, inching it higher up her thigh.
With every sip Rachel took from her wine glass, Ian's imagination ran wild. He couldn't help but picture those full, red lips wrapped around his cock, her tongue darting out to lick away the precum that beaded at the tip. The sound of her swallows seemed to echo in his ears, taunting him with the promise of what could be. Rachel's hand continued to inch up her skirt, her nails digging into her flesh, leaving pale half-moons on her skin.
The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Ian could feel the blood rushing to his cock, straining against the fabric of his pants. He knew he couldn't take it anymore, the need to touch her, to claim her, was too strong. His eyes never left Rachel's hand as it moved higher, the soft flesh of her thigh peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. The movie's plot was lost to him, the only story he cared about was the one unfolding in his own living room.
"Sorry, Mom," Ian choked out, his voice thick with desire. "I just can't watch this with you. It's... inappropriate." Rachel's hand paused, her eyes snapping to his, a look of surprise and something else, something darker, flickering in their depths. For a moment, Ian thought he had gone too far, that she would see right through his lie, but then she took another sip of her wine, her smile never wavering. "If it makes you uncomfortable, Ian," she said, her voice a velvet caress. "We can always watch something else."
Ian felt a mix of relief and disappointment, but he knew he couldn't push his luck. He needed Rachel to think he was just a clueless teenager, not the depraved creature he had become. He forced a smile, his heart hammering in his chest. "Thanks, Mom," he said, getting to his feet. "I think I'm just going to go to my room and play some games." Rachel's eyes followed him as he left the room, a knowing look on her face that made his skin crawl.
Once in his room, Ian's mind raced with possibilities. Was Rachel onto him? Did the melatonin have a permanent effect on her? He needed answers, and fast. He booted up his computer, his thoughts a blur as he scoured the internet for any information on melatonin and its potential long-term effects. Hours passed as he read through medical journals and online forums, his eyes scanning the pages for any clue that would explain Rachel's sudden interest in the explicit film.
The digital clock on his nightstand flipped to 2 AM, and Ian's eyes grew heavy with exhaustion. He had found nothing definitive, but the whispers of doubt and fear grew louder with each passing minute. He stumbled to bed, his mind reeling with the weight of his secrets. Sleep claimed him, but it was far from restful, filled with vivid dreams of Rachel's soft moans and Ivy's knowing smile.
Morning came, and it was Saturday. The house was eerily quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the refrigerator. Sunlight streamed in through the cracked blinds, painting stripes across his bedroom floor. It was a welcome change from the claustrophobic darkness of his thoughts, but it brought no relief. The silence was a reminder of the twisted reality he had created for himself.
Ian made his way to Ivy's room, his heart racing with anticipation and guilt. He pushed the door open gently, not wanting to disturb her if she had finally succumbed to sleep. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the rumpled bed, the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. The sight of her made his blood boil, a toxic mix of love and lust that clouded his judgment. She lay there, her body a testament to the beauty of youth, clad in nothing but her panties and bra, her chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep.
He approached the bed, his eyes drawn to the swell of her breasts, the hint of nipple poking through the fabric. He wanted to touch her, to claim her, but he knew he had to be careful. Ivy was a wildcard now, her behavior unpredictable. He had to be smart, had to bide his time. So instead, he contented himself with watching her, memorizing every inch of her body. He could feel his cock straining against his pants, a silent plea for release.
As Ian stared, Ivy shifted in her sleep, one hand slipping beneath the elastic of her panties. Her fingers began to move in a slow, sensual rhythm, tracing the line of her pussy. Ian's breath caught in his throat as he watched, his own hand moving to mirror her actions. The sight of his sister, lost in the throes of an unconscious pleasure, was almost too much to bear. He leaned closer, his breath hot against her neck, as he watched her touch herself.
He promised himself, one more day. Just one more day without giving into his dark urges. But as he watched her, the promise began to crumble. He needed to feel her, to taste her, to claim her in every way possible. His hand hovered over her, trembling with the effort of restraint. The urge was overwhelming, like a wild beast clawing at the bars of its cage.
But Ian steeled himself and backed away from the bed. He couldn't risk it today. He left the room, his eyes lingering on the sway of Ivy's hips as she slept. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving him in the hallway, his body aching with unfulfilled desire. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head.
With shaking hands, he made his way to Rachel's room, his heart racing. He knew he had to check on her, to ensure she was still unaware of his depraved actions. He pushed open the door, expecting to find her sleeping soundly, but instead, he was met with a sight that made his cock pulse with excitement. Rachel lay on her back, the sheets tangled around her legs, her shirt hiked up to expose her stomach. Two empty bottles of wine stood sentinel on her nightstand, their contents a silent testament to the evening's indulgence.
The room smelled faintly of alcohol, and Rachel's breathing was deep and even. He approached the bed, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, the soft curve of her breasts, the way her nipples stood at attention. He never saw his mother drinking; she was always so composed, so in control. But he knew that the melatonin was affecting her, loosening the strict moral code she had always lived by. And the knowledge that he was the one causing her to let go, to be vulnerable, only made his desire for her more intense.
He leaned down, his heart pounding in his ears, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake. He hovered there, his mouth so close to hers, his hand hovering over her body. It was a dangerous line he was walking, but the thrill was intoxicating. If she woke up, he would play it off as a concerned son checking on his mother, but deep down, he knew it was so much more than that. He couldn't resist the temptation, the need to feel her, to taste her.
With trembling fingers, he reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, his knuckles grazing the soft skin of her forehead. Rachel's eyelids fluttered but remained closed. The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing, his ragged and hers deep and slow. He traced a line down her neck, feeling the pulse of her blood beneath her skin. It was like he could feel the very essence of her, the heat of her desire, even in her sleep.
He leaned down, his lips hovering over hers, feeling the warmth of her breath. He kissed her softly, his mouth brushing against hers in a silent promise of what was to come. Rachel's mouth parted slightly, a sigh escaping her. Ian's hand moved to her chest, his thumb brushing over her nipple through the fabric of her shirt. It hardened beneath his touch, and he felt a surge of power, knowing he could make her body respond even without her conscious consent.
But he had to restrain himself. He couldn't let his desires overrule his better judgment. Not here, not now. Rachel's hand reached up, wrapping around his wrist, and for a moment, Ian thought she had woken up. But she merely shifted, her grip tightening, and then relaxing again. He pulled back, his heart racing. He had to be careful. He couldn't let her find out.
With one last, lingering look at Rachel's beautiful form, Ian turned and left the room. He closed the door softly behind him, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. The guilt was a heavy weight in his stomach, but it was dwarfed by the excitement coursing through his veins. The thrill of almost getting caught was like nothing he had ever felt before. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, and then headed to the kitchen for a glass of water.
The light was already coming in through the kitchen windows, and he knew that soon Rachel and Ivy would be waking up. He needed to keep his composure, to pretend like nothing had happened. To be the perfect son. So, he started to make breakfast, his hands moving automatically as he tried to push the images from his mind. The sizzle of bacon and the scent of eggs filled the air, a comforting aroma that seemed to ground him in reality.
As he cracked eggs into the frying pan, he couldn't help but think about Rachel's hand on his knee the night before, the way she had looked at him. It was a look that spoke of secrets and hidden desires, a look that had his blood boiling and his cock aching. He stirred the eggs, trying to focus on the task at hand, but his thoughts kept drifting back to her body, to the way she had felt in his arms, the way she had tasted.
The bacon sizzled and popped, filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma. He had always enjoyed cooking for them, it was something he had learned from his father, a way to show his love and care. But now, it was tainted with the dark knowledge of his nightly rituals. Yet, as he listened to the sound of pans clattering and the smell of breakfast filling the house, a strange sense of normalcy washed over him. For a brief moment, he could almost pretend that he wasn't a monster, that his thoughts weren't consumed by the twisted games he played.
He sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee, his eyes on the clock. The minutes ticked by, each one a silent countdown to when Rachel and Ivy would emerge from their rooms. He promised himself that he would only indulge in his sick fantasies a few more nights, just to have them completely, to claim every inch of their bodies and satisfy the hunger that gnawed at him. Then, he would stop. He had to. For their sake, for his own sake, he had to regain control of himself.
But not tonight.
Tonight, Ian decided, would be different. Tonight, he would resist the siren's call of Rachel's room, the tempting allure of Ivy's unconscious body. He had to find a way to regain control over his dark impulses before they consumed him entirely.
So, when his friends called him up with a plan for the night, he eagerly accepted. They were going to hit the town, grab some beers, maybe see a movie. Anything to get out of the suffocating tension that had settled over the house like a dense fog. He needed the distraction, the release that only the outside world could provide.
The kitchen was silent as Rachel and Ivy woke up late, the aroma of cold breakfast lingering in the air. Rachel stretched, yawning, her eyes landing on the plate of now lukewarm eggs and bacon. "Looks like Ian made breakfast," she murmured to Ivy, who nodded sleepily from the couch, her hair a wild mess around her face. They shared a knowing look, one that Ian would have found unsettling had he been there to see it.
Ian had spent the day with his friends, laughing and joking, trying to shake off the tension that clung to him like a second skin. They had seen a movie, a mindless action flick that had served its purpose, allowing him to forget, if only for a few hours, the twisted games he played at home. But as nightfall approached, the memories came flooding back, the desire burning in his veins like a fever.
He sent Rachel a text, his thumbs moving quickly over the phone's screen. "Mom, I'm gonna crash at Mark's tonight. We're playing games and watching movies." He hit send and took a deep breath, his heart racing. He needed the distance, the time to clear his head, to figure out how to end this twisted cycle before it spun out of control.
The night stretched on, filled with the laughter of his friends and the clinking of bottles. The lights of their video games cast a frenetic glow on their faces, the sounds of digital explosions and gunfire a stark contrast to the silent war raging in Ian's mind. He tried to lose himself in the pixelated battles, but every time he glanced at the clock, the minutes ticked closer to the time he would usually be carrying out his dark ritual.
The beer flowed freely, a warm buzz wrapping around him like a blanket, muffling the guilt and desire that had become his constant companions. They talked about school and girls, the mundane conversations a welcome respite from the twisted thoughts that consumed him at home. He took a long pull from his bottle, the cold liquid sliding down his throat, momentarily cooling the fire in his gut.
But as the night grew late, the house grew quiet, and his thoughts turned to Rachel and Ivy. The image of Rachel's hand on his knee, the way she had looked at him, was a siren's call he couldn't ignore. Soon after they had all fallen asleep, Ian slipped away from the warm embrace of his friends' laughter and the glow of the TV, his mind racing with the need to satisfy his dark cravings.
The night passed and morning came, it was time to go home. Ian felt a strange mix of relief and dread as he packed his bag. The house had been his playground of sin, but now it felt like a prison cell, the walls closing in on him with every passing second. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon as he slipped out of Mark's house, the chill of the early morning air a stark contrast to the warmth of his friend's living room. The streets were quiet, the world still sleeping, and he couldn't help but feel like the last man on Earth, the weight of his secrets a solitary burden he carried on his shoulders.
The walk home was a blur, his mind racing with thoughts of Rachel and Ivy. What would they be doing? Would they suspect anything? The fear of being found out was a constant throb in the back of his head, but it was overshadowed by the anticipation of seeing them again. As he turned the corner, his eyes fell on his house, the windows dark and unassuming. It was a place that once held so much love and comfort, now tainted by his twisted desires.
Creeping up the stairs, Ian's heart hammered in his chest. The smell of breakfast wafted through the air, a comforting scent that didn't quite fit the chaos of his thoughts. Rachel and Ivy sat at the kitchen table, their heads bent over plates of eggs and toast, their conversation a gentle murmur. The sight of them, so innocent and oblivious, filled him with a mix of guilt and arousal. He hovered in the hallway, watching them, his eyes greedily devouring every detail.
Rachel looked up, catching his gaze, and a smile spread across her face. "Ian," she called out, her voice thick with sleep. "You're home. Did you have fun at Mark's?" Ian nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Yeah, just couldn't sleep," he lied. Rachel's smile didn't waver, and she gestured to the empty plate. "There's still some breakfast if you want."
Ian forced a smile, his stomach churning. "Thanks, Mom," he said, taking a seat at the table. He picked at his food, his eyes flicking to Rachel's barely covered chest. He couldn't help but think about his nocturnal escapades, the way her skin had felt under his touch. Rachel noticed his distraction and leaned over the table, her shirt gaping open. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
The intimacy of the moment was suffocating, and Ian felt his resolve wavering. "Yeah," he managed to choke out, his voice strained. "Just tired." Rachel's hand brushed against his arm, sending a shiver down his spine. He could feel the heat of her body, so close and yet so far away. His thoughts grew darker, his mind racing with the memories of her moans and whimpers from his previous encounters.
He needed something to pass the time faster, a way to distract himself from the all-consuming need that gnawed at him like a ravenous beast. He tried to focus on the mundane task of chewing his food, the taste of eggs and bacon a stark contrast to the bitterness of his guilt. But every second that ticked by was a silent torture, each moment an eternity. He glanced at the clock on the wall, the hands moving with a maddening lethargy.
With a forced smile, Ian excused himself from the table, his plate barely touched. "I'm gonna grab a shower," he mumbled, retreating to the safety of his room. Once the door clicked shut behind him, he let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The walls of his sanctuary closed around him, but even here, the images of Rachel and Ivy plagued him, whispering sweet, forbidden promises.
He leaned against the closed door, his hand shaking as he unzipped his pants. He couldn't help himself, the need to feel some semblance of relief was too strong. He closed his eyes, Rachel's scent lingering in his nostrils, her soft moans echoing in his ears. His hand found his cock, hard and pulsing with desire. He stroked himself, imagining it was Rachel's hand, her gentle touch guiding him to the edge of ecstasy. The guilt was there, a constant throb in the background, but the pleasure was too intense to ignore.
With a groan, he sank to the floor, his hand moving faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The images in his mind grew more vivid, Rachel's naked body writhing beneath his, her eyes glazed with passion and need. He bit his lip to stifle a cry as he reached climax, the release a momentary salve to the burning hunger that consumed him. He sat there for a moment, panting, his mind racing with the consequences of his actions.
But tonight would be different, he told himself. Tonight, Rachel would give him more pleasure than he had ever dared to dream of. The thought filled him with a mix of excitement and dread. He had to be prepared, had to make sure that she didn't remember anything when she woke up. He cleaned himself up and dressed, his movements jerky and erratic. He knew what he had to do, and the anticipation was a coil of tension in his stomach.
As he made his way back to his room, he could hear the faint sounds of Rachel and Ivy moving around the house, their voices a low murmur that seemed to taunt him. He closed the door behind him, the click echoing in the silence. His room was his sanctuary, a place where he could let his dark desires run wild without fear of judgment. The walls were plastered with posters of half-dressed models, a stark contrast to the innocent family photos that lined the hallways.
With a heavy sigh, Ian booted up his gaming console, the familiar hum a comfort in the sea of his turmoil. The bright lights of the screen bathed the room in a glow that seemed almost otherworldly, a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that swirled in his head. He picked up his controller, his hands shaking slightly, and inserted a game disc. It was an open-world RPG, a game where he could control a character that was everything he wasn't in real life: powerful, respected, and free to take whatever he wanted.
He lost himself in the digital world, his mind a whirl of swords and sorcery, the pixelated battles a distraction from his own personal war. The virtual sun rose and set, and his character grew stronger with each victory, but in the back of his mind, the image of Rachel's hand on his knee lingered, a silent reminder of the real-life quest he had yet to complete. Hours passed in a blur of button mashing and strategic thinking, each victory a temporary salve to his frayed nerves.
Dinner came, and with it, the inevitable call to the kitchen. Rachel's laughter floated down the hall, mingling with the mouthwatering scents of roast chicken and baked potatoes. His stomach rumbled, a reminder of his hunger, not just for food, but for the taste of her skin, the sound of her unconscious gasps. He took a deep breath and steeled himself, forcing his hand to release the controller. It was time to join his mother and sister.
Ian found Rachel and Ivy in the kitchen, Rachel's back to him as she stirred a pot on the stove, the curve of her ass begging for his touch. Ivy sat at the counter, her legs swinging idly, her eyes glancing up from her phone to give him a lazy smile. "Hey, you're just in time to set the table," she said, her voice light and carefree. He nodded, swallowing the bile that had risen in his throat.
The dinner table was set with their best china, the silverware gleaming in the soft light. Rachel placed a steaming platter of roast chicken in the center, her movements graceful and sure. Ian's eyes lingered on her slender neck as she bent down to serve the food, his hands itching to caress it. He took his seat, the tension palpable as Rachel took her place at the head of the table.
Ivy's eyes sparkled with mischief as she passed the mashed potatoes to him, her hand lingering just a little too long on his. "Thanks," he murmured, trying to keep his voice steady. Rachel offered a warm smile, her eyes scanning him with a concern that made his heart race. "You've been so distant today, Ian. Is everything okay?"
The innocence in her question was a knife twisting in his gut. He forced a laugh, his voice a little too high. "Yeah, just been busy with school and stuff." Rachel nodded, her gaze lingering for a moment too long before turning back to her meal. The silence grew thick, the only sound the clinking of silverware against the plates. Ian's appetite had vanished, his mind consumed by the thought of what awaited him tonight.
He picked at his food, the conversation between Rachel and Ivy a dull hum in the background. Rachel's eyes kept flicking to him, a knowing look in them that made him squirm in his seat. Was she playing with him? Did she suspect something? The doubt ate away at him like a cancer, spreading through his thoughts like a dark stain.
After dinner, Ian offered to clean up, his hands shaking slightly as he gathered the dishes. Rachel nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Why don't you go relax, Ian?" she suggested. "You look like you could use it." He took the hint, retreating to his room with the uneasy feeling that Rachel had something up her sleeve.
Once Rachel and Ivy were comfortably nestled on the couch, engrossed in a TV show, Ian made his move. He tiptoed into the kitchen, his heart racing as he pulled out the bottle of melatonin. The same ritual played out in his head like a twisted mantra: measure, stir, and serve. The tea was his secret weapon, a silent accomplice in his depraved games. The water bubbled in the kettle, the steam rising like a siren's call to his dark desires.
With trembling hands, he added the precise amount to Rachel's cup, the white powder disappearing into the amber liquid. He stirred gently, watching the swirls of tea dance with the drug. The sight was mesmerizing, a twisted ballet that represented his ultimate power over her. He carried the steaming cup to the living room, his steps careful not to spill a drop. Rachel took the tea with a grateful smile, her eyes never leaving the flickering TV screen.
As Rachel sipped her tea, Ian retreated to the shadows, his eyes never leaving her. The melatonin would take effect soon, plunging her into a deep, dreamless sleep. The anticipation was a living entity, coiling in his stomach, tightening its grip with every passing minute. He could feel his cock hardening in his pants, demanding release from the prison of his conscience.
Ivy glanced up from her phone, catching Ian's eye. He held her gaze, a silent question hanging between them. Without a word, he handed her the second cup, filled with the same potent brew. Rachel's eyes narrowed for a brief moment, but she said nothing, her trust in Ian as unshakable as it was disturbing. Ivy took the cup with a yawn, her eyes already heavy. "Thanks," she murmured, her voice thick with the promise of slumber.
With Rachel and Ivy both in their separate rooms, Ian's heart thudded against his ribcage like a caged animal desperate for escape. He waited, the minutes stretching out like hours as he listened for the soft sounds of their breathing to deepen. Rachel's room was closer, and the allure of her mature beauty was a siren's call he couldn't resist for much longer.
An hour passed, and he knew it was time to visit them. He started with Ivy's room, his steps light as a feather as he approached her door. The faint glow of her laptop screen cast an eerie light across her face, the last vestiges of consciousness fading as the melatonin pulled her under. He stepped inside, his eyes lingering on her soft, full lips, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She was so beautiful, so tempting, but Rachel's room called to him with an intensity that was almost painful.
He took the bottle of ethanol and a clean rag from his pocket, the cold glass a comforting weight in his hand. He approached Ivy's bed, his heart racing like a freight train. She lay there, so peaceful, her chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. He leaned over her, placing the rag gently over her mouth and nose, the alcohol soaking into the fabric. Ivys eyes fluttered open, a soft moan escaping her lips. For a split second, he was sure she would wake up, that she would see the monster he had become.
But the potent fumes worked their magic, her eyes rolling back into her head as she slipped into the deep abyss of unconsciousness. He watched her, his breath coming in shallow gasps, waiting until he was sure she wouldn't wake up.
He then went to his mothers room, his heart hammering in his chest. The door was a silent sentinel, guarding the sanctum of Rachel's sleep. He pushed it open, the hinges not daring to squeak under the weight of his desires. Rachel lay sprawled on her back, her breasts rising and falling with each steady breath, the blanket barely concealing the treasures he craved. The soft glow of the moon cast shadows across her face, highlighting the lines of age that only added to her allure.
The smell of her perfume filled the air, a heady mix of vanilla and jasmine that made him ache. He approached her bedside, the ethanol and rag ready in his trembling hand. He paused for a moment, the gravity of what he was about to do weighing heavily on his soul. But the need was too strong, a hunger that gnawed at him like a wild beast demanding to be fed.
He leaned over Rachel, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered sweet nothings that she would never remember. He placed the rag over her nose and mouth, the ethanol releasing its potent scent. Her body went limp, the fight leaving her as she succumbed to the darkness. Ian watched her chest rise and fall, his own heart racing as he waited for the perfect moment.
When Rachel's breathing grew deep and even, Ian knew she was fully unconscious. He took a shaky breath, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a thousand tons. With trembling hands, he reached out and gently brushed her hair from her face. Her skin was soft, like silk under his fingertips. The guilt was a living, breathing entity, but the desire was stronger.
He leaned in closer, his thumb brushing against Rachel's full, parted lips. They felt warm, inviting, and he couldn't resist the urge to press his thumb into the softness. Her mouth opened slightly in response, and Ian's cock twitched in his pants. He caressed her bottom lip, tracing its curve with a feather-light touch. The intimacy of the gesture was not lost on him, a silent declaration of his deepest, darkest desires.
With his free hand, Ian slowly unzipped his pants, his cock springing free with a desperation that surprised him. He took a deep breath, his hand wrapping around its thickness. The warmth of his grip was a stark contrast to Rachel's cool skin. He stroked himself gently, his eyes never leaving Rachel's peaceful face. The room was a symphony of quietude, the only sound his own ragged breaths and the distant hum of the house.
He climbed onto Rachel's bed with the grace of a predator, his knees sinking into the soft mattress. His cock hovered just above her face, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Rachel's breath was warm against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He couldn't resist the urge any longer; he had to feel her mouth around him, had to hear her muffled moans of pleasure. He positioned himself carefully, his cock brushing against her cheek as he lined it up with her parted lips.
With a gentle touch, Ian traced Rachel's full bottom lip with the head of his cock, the sensation sending a bolt of lightning straight to his core. He watched as Rachel's eyes fluttered open slightly, a soft gasp escaping her. His heart skipped a beat, but she remained unconscious, the drug holding her in its tight embrace. The power was intoxicating, a heady rush that made his head spin. He continued his exploration, her lip quivering against his sensitive skin as he moved back and forth, savoring the moment.
The room was a cocoon of darkness, the only light coming from the moon that spilled in through the crack in the curtains. Rachel's mouth was a beacon of warmth in the cold night, and Ian felt himself leaning into it, his cock sliding over her upper lip, the tip teasing her nose. He was lost in the sensation, his mind racing with the taboo thrill of what he was doing. He whispered, " Oh Mom ". the sound a soft moan that mingled with her steady breaths.
With a gentle but firm push, Ian felt Rachel's mouth part wider, and the head of his cock slipped past her lips. She didn't resist, didn't flinch. The ethanol had done its job, leaving Rachel a willing, though unknowing, participant in his twisted fantasy. He groaned, the sound barely audible, as he pushed deeper, feeling the softness of her tongue brush against him. It was a heady mix of fear and excitement that coursed through his veins.
He held his breath as Rachel's mouth enveloped him, her unconscious movements guiding his shaft deeper into the warm cavern. It was his first blowjob, and it was from his mother. The taboo nature of the act only heightened the pleasure, sending waves of heat crashing through his body. He couldn't believe this was happening, that he was living out his darkest desires. His hips began to move, setting a slow rhythm as Rachel's mouth followed suit, her tongue swirling and dancing around him without her consent.
The sensation was indescribable, wet and warm like nothing before, a tightness that gripped him and didn't let go. He watched as Rachel's cheeks hollowed with each bob of her head, her eyes closed in what would be bliss if she were awake. Ian's hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his grip tightening as he began to thrust slightly. Rachel's hair spilled over her face, a curtain that only made the scene more erotic.
He could feel his climax building, a pressure that grew with every second. Rachel's mouth was like a wet, warm heaven, a place where he could lose himself and never come back. He moved faster, his hips jerking in time with Rachel's unconscious movements. The sound of their muffled moans filled the room, a symphony of depravity that only added to the intensity.
But then, he slowed down, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He needed to savor this moment, to make it last. His hand reached out, his fingers brushing Rachel's chest with a tremble. Her breasts were firm and round, the fabric of her nightgown the only barrier between his skin and hers. He cupped her, feeling her nipple harden under his touch. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of guilt and pleasure that made his head spin.
With a deep breath, Ian pushed Rachel's nightgown aside, his eyes drinking in the sight of her bare breasts. They were perfect, the kind he had seen in countless porn videos, and they were his for the taking. He leaned over her, his cock still buried in her mouth, and took one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He squeezed gently, rolling it as Rachel's body responded with a soft, unconscious moan.
Her mouth was a tight, wet fist around him now, moving in a slow, steady rhythm that made him want to scream with pleasure. He matched the tempo with his hips, sliding in and out of her with an agonizingly slow pace. The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced, the reality of his darkest fantasy coming to life in his mother's room. Rachel's eyes remained closed, her body reacting to his touch despite her unconscious state.
With one hand, he continued to squeeze Rachel's breast, his thumb teasing the hardened nub of her nipple. The other hand found its way to the base of her neck, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he guided her movements. The power was intoxicating, a heady mix of love and lust that made him feel like a god. Rachel's mouth was his to command, and he reveled in it.
Leaning down, his hand slipped into Rachel's panties, the soft fabric giving way to the heat of her sex. She was wet, soaking wet, and the knowledge that she was turned on, even in her sleep, was too much to bear. He groaned, his cock pulsing with need. His fingers danced over her folds, teasing and probing until they found her clit. Rachel's hips bucked slightly at the touch, a silent plea for more.
Ian's thumb circled her clit, the tiny pearl of pleasure that was the center of his world. Rachel's unconscious movements grew more erratic, her body betraying her mind's slumber. He watched her face, the way her eyelashes fluttered and her cheeks flushed as he played her body like a finely-tuned instrument. His other hand still cupped her breast, his thumb now flicking the erect nipple in time with his strokes on her clit.
But the need to cum was like a beast gnawing at his insides. He was so close, the edge of his orgasm just within reach, but something held him back. He didn't want it to end, not yet. He wanted to make this moment last forever, to etch it into his memory so he could replay it every time he felt the emptiness that consumed him. He slowed his movements, his cock slipping slightly out of Rachel's mouth as he took a deep, shuddering breath.
Then, with a newfound determination, Ian leaned down between Rachel's legs. His mother's scent was intoxicating, a heady mix of musk and arousal that made his head spin. He placed a gentle kiss on her inner thigh, his breath hot against her skin. Rachel's legs parted slightly, a silent invitation that sent a shock of excitement through him.
He took a deep breath, his cock aching with anticipation. Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved closer to her core, his tongue tracing a wet path along her inner thigh. Rachel's skin was smooth and soft, her legs shaving recently. The anticipation was unbearable as he reached the juncture of her thighs. He paused for a moment, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a drum.
With a gentle nudge, he parted Rachel's legs wider, exposing her to his hungry gaze. Her pussy was a thing of beauty, pink and plump, glistening with the evidence of her arousal. He couldn't believe this was happening, that he was about to taste his mother in the most intimate way possible. With one final, lingering look, Ian guided his cock back into Rachel's willing mouth, the warmth and wetness enveloping him like a second skin.
At the same time, he dipped his head, his tongue extending to touch her swollen clit. Rachel's eyes flew open at the sudden sensation, but the drug held her firmly in its grasp, preventing any realization of what was happening. Ian took advantage of her vulnerability, his tongue flicking and teasing as he pushed himself back into her mouth, setting a rhythm that was both torturous and exhilarating.
It was a twisted version of a 69, his mother's body writhing under his, her mouth a willing receptacle for his desperate need. Rachel's unconscious moans vibrated around his shaft as he licked and sucked, the taste of her driving him wild. He felt the walls of her pussy tightening around his fingers as she neared her peak, her body responding to his touch despite her oblivion.
The sensations were overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that played out in the darkness of Rachel's room. Ian's tongue danced over Rachel's clit, savoring the sweetness of her arousal. The rhythm grew faster, his tongue flicking against her in a delicate dance that sent tremors through her body. Rachel's hand reached down to grip the bedsheets, her legs trembling as the orgasm built within her.
At the same time, Ian's hips slowed, his cock buried deep in Rachel's throat. He could feel his climax approaching, the pressure building in his balls like a coiled spring ready to snap. But he held back, his eyes squeezed shut in an effort to maintain control. He didn't want this to end, not yet. Rachel's unknowing participation in his depravity was a thrill that was almost too much to handle.
He focused on Rachel's clit, his tongue flicking faster and harder as he felt her body tense. Her legs began to quiver, and a soft, muffled cry escaped her mouth. Her hips bucked against his face, pushing him deeper into her wetness. And then, it happened. Rachel's body arched off the bed, her muscles tensing as she came hard, her pussy squirting slightly as the orgasm ripped through her. The sensation was so intense, so powerful, that she squirted a fine mist of fluid that sprayed across Ian's face.
Ian's eyes widened in amazement, his cock pulsing with excitement as he watched Rachel's body convulse with pleasure. He had never seen anything so beautiful, so raw. He felt like a god, a creator of worlds, as he watched his mother's body react to his touch. Rachel's eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth forming a silent "Oh" as she rode out the waves of her climax.
He gently pulled his cock from her mouth, his own orgasm retreating slightly as he took in the sight of her. Rachel's chest heaved with deep breaths, her cheeks flushed a dark crimson. Her nightgown was askew, revealing the swollen, sensitive flesh of her breasts. Ian couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, a sharp reminder of the line he had crossed.
But the beast inside him was not satisfied. He reached down, his hand wrapping around his still-hard shaft. Rachel's eyes remained closed, lost in the fog of sleep. He stroked himself, the warmth of her mouth still clinging to him. The sound of his own breathing was like thunder in his ears, the silence of the room a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind.
With a gentle sigh, Ian guided his cock back between Rachel's lips. She didn't resist, her mouth opening slightly to accept him once more. He watched as Rachel's cheeks hollowed with each stroke, her throat moving in time with his hand. The sight was mesmerizing, a dance of darkness that played out in the quiet of the night. His mother's body was a canvas for his desires, a living, breathing work of art that he could mold to his will.
He grabbed Rachel's head with both hands, his grip firm but not painful. The fabric of the rag was still in place, a constant reminder of his actions. With a slow, deliberate movement, he began to move her head, her mouth sliding along his shaft with each pass. Rachel's unconscious moans grew louder, echoing in the small space like a siren's call. He watched as Rachel's eyes fluttered open, only to close again as she succumbed to the drug's power.
The sight of Rachel's eyes, glazed with sleep and lust, was almost too much for Ian to handle. He felt a surge of power, a thrill that made his heart race like a wild stallion. He moved her head faster, her cheeks hollowing with each bob, the wetness of her mouth coating his cock. Rachel's body arched slightly off the bed, a silent testament to the pleasure she was feeling despite her unconscious state.
Ian's eyes remained locked on the hypnotic rhythm of Rachel's mouth, the way her tongue curled around the base of his shaft as he slid in and out. His hips began to move of their own accord, the need to release his seed growing stronger with every passing second. Rachel's breathing grew more ragged, her body responding to the relentless assault on her senses.
The sight of Rachel's plump, swollen lips stretched around his cock was an image burned into Ian's brain, a visual feast that he would never forget. The way her cheeks hollowed, the way her throat worked around him, was mesmerizing. He felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his entire being focused on the feeling of his mother's mouth around his cock.
With a guttural growl, Ian began to move Rachel's head faster, her unconscious body now just a vessel for his depraved desires. Rachel's eyes remained closed, but her breathing grew more erratic, her chest rising and falling in time with his thrusts. The fabric of the nightgown was bunched around her waist now, her stomach exposed and quivering with each movement.
Ian's hips bucked, the head of his cock hitting the back of Rachel's throat with a wet smack. Rachel's nose was buried in his pubic hair, her breaths coming in shallow pants. The taste of her was still on his tongue, a sweet, musky flavor that only served to fuel his need. He could feel the tension in his balls, the tightness that signaled his impending release.
Moving Rachel's head faster, he watched as her mouth stretched around him, her cheeks hollowing with each downward motion. The sound of her saliva smacking against his shaft was like a siren's song, urging him closer and closer to the edge. Rachel's body was a blur of motion under him, a silent participant in his darkest desires.
The pressure in Ian's balls grew to an almost painful level, a crescendo of need that demanded release. He could feel his orgasm building, a volcano of pleasure ready to erupt. His eyes were glued to Rachel's face, her features a mask of innocence despite the depravity she was unknowingly participating in. The fabric of her nightgown was a blur of white, the only barrier to the warm, willing flesh beneath.
With one hand, he gripped Rachel's head, holding her in place as he moved her mouth faster and faster over his cock. His other hand found its way to her hair, his grip tightening as the tension grew. Rachel's body was a silent symphony of pleasure, her chest rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm. He felt himself getting closer, the warmth of her mouth like a vice around him.
And then, with a final, desperate thrust, Ian came. He felt the warmth of his seed fill Rachel's mouth, her throat constricting around him as she swallowed his cum. The sensation was indescribable, a release of tension that had been building for what felt like an eternity. His body convulsed, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into her willing, unknowing mouth. Rachel's eyes remained closed, a soft moan escaping her lips as she unconsciously swallowed his essence.
Ian pulled out of Rachel's mouth, his cock glistening with her saliva and his cum. He watched as a rope of semen stretched between his shaft and her lips before snapping back, leaving a sticky trail across her cheek. Rachel's head lolled to one side, her chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. The room was silent except for the sound of their mingled breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and betrayal.
He took a moment to compose himself, the reality of what he had just done crashing down around him. His mother had taken him into her mouth, had swallowed his cum without even knowing it. The guilt was a heavy weight in his stomach, a coiling snake that whispered of his sins. But the high from the power and pleasure was still too potent to ignore. He felt like a man who had stumbled upon a forbidden fruit, one that was both sweet and bitter.
Gently, Ian pulled Rachel's nightgown back down, covering her nakedness like a veil of innocence. He cleaned her face with the back of his hand, wiping away the evidence of his depravity. Rachel's features remained peaceful, oblivious to the monster that had just used her body for his own pleasure. The room was a battleground of light and shadow, each corner holding a silent judgment of his actions.
He took a moment to drink in the sight of Rachel, sprawled across the bed in a pose of innocent abandon. The way her nightgown clung to her body was a silent testament to the depravity that had just unfolded, a secret shared only by the two of them and the walls that had witnessed their twisted dance. He longed to crawl back beside her, to bury himself in her warmth and lose himself in the comfort of her arms, but he knew that was a path that could only lead to ruin.
Instead, Ian leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Rachel's still-swollen lips, the taste of himself mingling with her own natural flavor. It was a strange sensation, one that sent a shiver of excitement and guilt down his spine. He lingered for a moment longer, savoring the warmth of her breath, before gently rising from the bed. His legs felt like jelly, his body both exhausted and electrified by the experience.
With shaking hands, he tucked Rachel in, pulling the covers up to her neck as if he could somehow shield her from the reality of what had just occurred. Rachel stirred slightly, a soft murmur escaping her lips, but she did not wake. Ian watched her for a moment longer, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he had to leave, to let her sleep in ignorance of the perversion that had just unfolded in her own bed.
Slipping out of the room, Ian moved quietly down the hall, his bare feet gliding over the cool floorboards. The house was still and silent, a stark contrast to the tumult of emotions roiling within him. He approached Ivy's door, his hand hovering over the handle. The question of whether she was still under the drug's influence weighed heavily on his mind, a dark curiosity that he couldn't ignore.
He pushed the door open slowly, the hinges emitting a soft creak that sent a shiver down his spine. The moonlight streamed in through the crack in the curtains, casting a pale glow over the room. The sight that greeted him was like a scene from a forbidden dream, Ivy laid out on her bed, her body a symphony of curves and shadows.
Ian's gaze roamed over her, drinking in the sight of his sister's nakedness. The ethanol had done its work, leaving her limbs sprawled and heavy with sleep. Her chest rose and fell with each deep, even breath, the swell of her breasts casting a tantalizing silhouette against the wall. His eyes traveled lower, over the flat plane of her stomach and the gentle flare of her hips.
He swallowed hard, his cock already showing signs of renewed interest. But tonight, he thought, tonight was for Rachel. He had taken his mother's mouth, had claimed her unknowing body as his own. The thought of doing the same to Ivy was too much, too soon. He needed time to process, to let the guilt and the thrill of what he had done settle in his mind.
Ian stepped back from the doorway, his hand sliding from the handle with a quiet click. The need to claim his sister's body was like a siren's call, but he knew he had to be smart. Rachel's suspicion was growing, and he didn't want to risk Ivy waking up or Rachel discovering the truth. He had to be careful, had to plan his next move with the precision of a chess master.
Turning away from the temptation that was Ivy's room, Ian padded softly back to his own sanctuary. The hallway was a blur of shadows and whispers, the house a silent witness to his dark deeds. Each step felt like a mile, his legs weary from the exertion and his mind reeling with the aftermath of what he had done.
Once in his room, Ian collapsed onto his bed, the mattress sighing with his weight. The sheets were cold against his fevered skin, a stark contrast to the warm embrace he had just left. Rachel's taste remained on his tongue, a potent cocktail of desire and guilt that left him feeling both satisfied and empty.
He quickly fell asleep, a fitful slumber filled with fragmented images of Rachel's mouth and Ivy's body. His dreams were a tangled web of lust and regret, a battle between the two sides of his soul. Each time he stirred, the fabric of his sheets whispered against his skin, a reminder of the softness of his mothers mouths.
When morning came, Ian was up early. He felt the need to escape the confines of his room, to breathe in the fresh air of the new day as if it could cleanse him of the sins of the night. He crept downstairs, the house still shrouded in darkness. The smell of brewing coffee wafted through the air, a comforting scent that seemed almost alien in the aftermath of his actions. Rachel was already up, moving with her usual grace and poise as she prepared breakfast.
"Hey, Mom," he said, his voice cracking slightly as he stepped into the kitchen. Rachel looked up, a smile ghosting across her face. The sight of her, so beautiful and oblivious, made his stomach clench. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," Rachel replied, her voice a bit raspy. "My throat's a bit sore, and I have this odd salty taste in my mouth." She frowned, her hand unconsciously reaching up to her neck. "I must've had a strange dream last night."
Ian's heart skipped a beat as he tried to keep his cool. "Yeah, maybe," he murmured, his eyes darting away. He knew that taste all too well, the taste of his own cum from when Rachel had unknowingly swallowed his load during her sleep. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, trying to ignore the tremor in his hand as he handed it to her. "Here, drink this. It might help."
Rachel took the glass with a grateful smile, her eyes never leaving his. "Thanks, sweetie," she said, her voice a low purr that seemed to resonate through his entire body. She took a sip, the water sliding down her throat with an audible gulp. The salty taste remained, a constant reminder of the depraved act that had occurred just hours before. Rachel's eyes searched his, a hint of curiosity flickering in their depths. "It's just weird, you know?"
Ian nodded, his mind racing. Was she onto him? Did she somehow know what he had done? He forced a casual smile, hoping it didn't look as forced as it felt. "It's probably just from the air conditioner," he offered, his voice a bit too bright. Rachel's expression didn't change, but she nodded slightly, the tension in her shoulders easing.
They continued with the morning routine, Rachel sipping at the water and Ian flipping through the newspaper. The kitchen was bathed in the soft light of dawn, casting a warm glow over everything. Yet, the atmosphere felt charged, like the calm before a storm. Rachel's eyes kept flicking back to him, as if searching for answers in his face, but Ian was careful to keep his emotions in check.
As he finished getting ready, Ian felt a strange mix of excitement and dread. The school day was a welcome distraction from the chaos in his mind, a chance to pretend that everything was normal, even if only for a few hours. He grabbed his backpack, feeling the weight of his secrets pressing down on him. The simple act of leaving the house, of walking out into the bright day, felt like a victory.
At school, Ian tried to focus on his classes, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Rachel. He found himself staring at his phone, expecting a message that would never come. The mundane conversations with his friends felt forced, their laughter echoing hollowly in his ears. Every time he saw a mother picking up her child, his heart raced, his mind replaying the events of the night before.
Lunchtime arrived, and Ian's stomach felt like a writhing pit of snakes. He picked at his food, unable to swallow more than a few bites. His mind was a tornado of what-ifs and maybes, the taste of Rachel's mouth haunting his every thought. He could feel the eyes of his classmates on him, their whispers and giggles a cacophony that drowned out the clatter of silverware and the muffled sounds of the cafeteria.
In math class, Mr. Thompson's voice droned on about calculus, but Ian couldn't focus. Rachel's image swam before his eyes, her lips wrapped around his cock, her cheeks hollow with the effort of taking him deep. The scratch of the chalk on the board was a metronome keeping time with his racing pulse, the numbers and formulas on the board swirling into a chaotic mess.
The bell finally rang, signaling the end of the school day, and Ian practically sprinted out of the classroom. The hallways were a blur of faces and lockers, all fading into the background as he made his way to his locker. His hand shook as he twisted the combination lock, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat in his cheeks. He grabbed his bag and slammed the locker shut, the echo reverberating through the now-empty hallway.
He took a deep breath, trying to push the images of Rachel from his mind. The feeling of her mouth, the smell of her hair, the taste of her skin—it was all too much. He needed to get home, to be alone with his thoughts and his guilt. The school felt like a prison, the walls closing in with every passing second.
Ian practically sprinted out of the school, his feet barely touching the ground as he raced towards the bus stop. The chilly autumn wind whipped through his hair, stinging his cheeks and bringing him back to reality. His thoughts were a jumble of guilt and desire, a toxic mix that fueled his every step. The bus ride home felt like an eternity, his heart pounding in his chest as the cityscape rolled by outside the window.
When he finally stepped off the bus and onto the quiet street of his neighborhood, the sense of relief was palpable. The world around him seemed to slow down, the air thick with the scent of wet leaves and the promise of rain. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the thought of returning to the house that now held the darkest secrets of his life. The house where Rachel and Ivy slept, blissfully unaware of the depraved desires that had been fulfilled within its walls.
The door creaked open, the familiar scent of home greeting him like an old friend. The silence was almost deafening as Ian tiptoed through the empty house, his footsteps echoing through the hallways. He had the place to himself today, a rare occurrence that usually filled him with joy. But today, it was a prison of his own making, each room holding a potential for temptation that made his palms sweat.
With Rachel and Ivy both out for the day, he had the perfect opportunity to indulge in his darkest fantasies without fear of discovery. Yet, the very thought of it brought a wave of nausea and dread that he couldn't shake. The guilt of the previous night weighed heavily on his conscience, a constant reminder of the lines he had crossed. But the allure of Rachel's and Ivys sleeping form was like a siren's call, drawing him to her room despite his best efforts to resist.
Ian's mind was a war zone, torn between the desire to continue his incestuous escapades and the fear of losing the people he loved most. He paced his own room, the walls closing in around him as he contemplated his next move. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet, a rhythmic soundtrack to his tumultuous thoughts. He knew that Rachel was suspicious, her offhanded comments about her sore throat and strange dreams a stark reminder of the risks he was taking.
But the need to possess Rachel and Ivy, to claim them in their most vulnerable state, was like an addiction that had taken hold of him. He had convinced himself that three more nights was all he needed to satisfy this burning desire, to get it out of his system before it consumed him completely. It was a dangerous game, but one he was willing to play.
The evening stretched before him, a canvas of shadows and secrets. Rachel and Ivy were out, their laughter and chatter a distant memory in the now-silent house. He knew their routines, knew when they would be back. The anticipation was a living thing, a coil of excitement and dread that tightened with every tick of the clock.
Dinner time approached, and Rachel and Ivy returned home, their voices a symphony of life that Ian found both comforting and terrifying. Rachel looked particularly radiant, her cheeks flushed from the crisp fall air and her eyes sparkling with mirth. Ivy, too, was a vision, her youthful energy a stark contrast to Rachel's mature grace. They both wore thin, form-fitting clothes that clung to their bodies, leaving little to the imagination.
As they chatted and laughed, Ian felt a knot form in his stomach. Where had they been? What had they been doing? The questions ate away at him like a cancer, festering in the dark corners of his mind. His eyes darted between them, searching for any sign of knowledge, any hint that they were aware of his nocturnal escapades. But Rachel and Ivy remained blissfully oblivious, their smiles and laughter a mockery of the depraved acts he had committed in the sanctity of their sleep.
The evening passed in a blur of forced smiles and small talk. Rachel's eyes lingered on Ian a few moments longer than usual, a knowing glint that sent his heart racing. Had she somehow figured it out? The possibility was a constant thorn in his side, a reminder that his time was running out.
After dinner, Ian suggested they all have tea to unwind. Ian's hands shook slightly as he added an extra dash of melatonin to their cups, the fine powder disappearing into the dark liquid like a silent confession. The act was a dance of danger and desire, each pinch a step closer to the edge of discovery.
They settled into the living room, Rachel curling up on the couch with a sigh, Ivy stretching out languidly beside her. Rachel's eyes met Ian's for a brief moment, the warmth in her gaze making his heart pound in his chest. Was it suspicion, or was it something else entirely? The question tormented him as he handed them their drugged tea, his own heart racing with the anticipation of what the night would bring.
They sipped the tea, the sweetness of the honey doing little to mask the bitter undertone of the melatonin. Rachel's eyes grew heavy, her lids fluttering as the potent cocktail began to take effect. Ivy, ever the lightweight, was already yawning, her eyelids drooping like a pair of velvet curtains.
Ian watched them closely, his own cup of tea untouched and cold in his hand. Like every other time before, his heart pounded with a mix of excitement and trepidation. This was the moment where reality and fantasy collided, where his deepest, darkest desires could come to life without fear of repercussion.
As Rachel and Ivy's eyes grew heavier with each passing minute, Ian's mind raced with thoughts of what the night would hold. He waited, the air in the room thick with anticipation, as they both finally announced their need to head to bed. Rachel yawned dramatically, her hand coming to rest on Ivy's shoulder with a gentle squeeze. "Night, sweetie," she said with a sleepy smile, her voice a warm caress that sent shivers down Ian's spine.
The two of them disappeared down the hallway, their soft footsteps fading into the darkness. Ian's heart hammered against his ribs, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He knew he had to wait, had to let the drug take full effect before he could act. The seconds ticked by like hours, each one a torturous reminder of the unspoken tension that had woven itself into the fabric of their lives.
Finally, unable to bear the wait any longer, Ian set down his untouched tea and tiptoed to Ivy's door. He pressed his ear against the wood, listening for the steady rhythm of her breathing, the sweet music of her sleep. Only when he was sure she was deeply under the melatonin's spell did he slip into her room, the shadows enveloping him like a lover's embrace.
He moved to the side of her bed, his eyes raking over her barely covered body. The soft glow of the moon painted her skin with a silver sheen, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, the fabric of her shirt clinging to her like a second skin. His hand trembled as he reached for the rag he had soaked in ethanol, the liquid cold and unforgiving in his grasp. The scent of the alcohol was a stark reminder of the control he held over them, a power that both thrilled and disgusted him.
With a silent apology to the heavens, Ian leaned over Ivy, pressing the cloth to her nose and mouth. Her eyes fluttered open briefly, a look of confusion and fear crossing her features. But the drug was too potent, her resistance futile. Within seconds, she was lost to the world once more, her body slack and pliant.
He waited a bit longer than usual, his eyes tracing the contours of her face, memorizing every detail. The soft curve of her cheek, the delicate arch of her eyebrow, the plumpness of her lower lip—it was all so intoxicating. He had to be sure she was fully unconscious before he could proceed. The quiet hum of the house was his only company, the steady rhythm of the clock ticking away the seconds.
When Ivy's breathing grew deep and even, Ian felt the weight of his decision settle in his chest. He took a deep breath, savoring the sweet scent of her shampoo that lingered in the air. The way she slept on her stomach, her face turned slightly to the side, offered a tantalizing view of her bare neck and the soft mounds of her breasts.
But it was her ass that drew his eyes, that perfect, round ass that had haunted his dreams for so long. He had watched her from afar, seen her in bikinis, tight shorts, and even caught glimpses when she thought no one was looking. The obsession had grown, a secret garden of lust that he watered with every glance and every stolen touch. Now, in the moonlit silence of her room, he had free rein to indulge in his darkest desires.
He reached out tentatively, his hand shaking with a mix of excitement and fear. Ivy's body was so warm, so alive.. He grabbed her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze, the soft flesh yielding beneath his palm. The feel of her made him hard, his cock straining against his pants, eager to claim what was rightfully his. He knew it was wrong, knew that if she ever found out, she would be disgusted, horrified. But the thrill of the forbidden was like a drug, and he was addicted.
Ian's other hand trailed up her back, the smoothness of her skin sending a jolt of pleasure through him. He was careful not to wake her, his movements slow and deliberate, like a cat stalking its prey. He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, and whispered sweet nothings that only the darkness could hear. His heart thundered in his chest as he continued to play with her, his fingertips tracing the elastic of her panties, the fabric the only barrier between his hand and the heaven he sought.
He had to taste her again. The need was a living, breathing entity, a hunger that gnawed at his very soul. He slid the fabric down, exposing the pale curve of her ass. His tongue darted out, the salty taste of his own sweat mixing with the sweet scent of her skin. He kissed her, gently at first, savoring the feel of her body against his, the heat of her flesh searing his lips. His hands roamed further, his thumbs brushing the soft folds of her pussy, the wetness there a silent invitation.
He buried his face in her asscheeks, his tongue tracing the tight ring of her anus. The act was so taboo, so wrong, yet it thrilled him to no end. Her body trembled slightly, a reflexive response to the sensation, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was dreaming of him. If she knew what he was doing, if she was silently begging him for more. He licked and kissed, his hands gripping her hips tightly to keep her in place. The thought of Ivy waking up to this, the thought of her lying there, unable to move or protest, filled him with a dark excitement that washed over him like a wave.
Her pussy was already wet, the scent of her arousal mingling with the faint metallic tang of the melatonin. He lapped at her folds, savoring the sweetness of her juices. Her clit was a hard little nub, begging for attention, and Ian was more than happy to oblige. He circled it with his tongue, feeling it swell under his ministrations. Rachel had been his first, but Ivy was his obsession. Her youthful beauty was an aphrodisiac, her innocence a siren's call that he couldn't resist.
Ivy's body began to respond, her hips moving slightly against his face, her breathing growing shallower. Ian took that as a sign to intensify his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly over her clit while he slid two fingers into her slick pussy. He pumped them in and out, curling them to hit her g-spot, all the while keeping her ass cheeks spread wide open. Her moans grew louder, the sound a symphony of pleasure and surrender that sent bolts of electricity through his body.
He could feel her getting closer, her muscles tightening around his fingers, her breaths turning into soft gasps. The power he had over her in that moment was heady, a rush that made his blood sing. He sucked harder, his tongue swirling and flicking with expert precision. Her body was taut as a bowstring, and Ian knew that with one more flick, one more push, she would shatter.
And then it happened. Ivy's back arched off the bed, her legs squeezing together around his head, and she came with a force that took him by surprise. A flood of warm liquid spilled onto his face, soaking his cheeks and filling his mouth. He had never felt anything like it before—the raw power of her orgasm, the way she convulsed under his touch. It was like nothing he had ever experienced, a revelation that sent his own climax spiraling out of control.
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut: Ivy had squirted more than Rachel ever had. Rachel's orgasms had been intense, but nothing compared to this. The sheer volume of fluid, the force behind it, was something he hadn't been prepared for. Rachel had always been more reserved, her responses more contained. But Ivy was a fountain, a wild and untamed force that he hadn't anticipated.
Her body went limp, the tension draining from her limbs as the last waves of pleasure washed over her. Ian pulled away, panting, his face and neck sticky with her release. He had never seen anything so beautifully obscene. The sight of her there, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving with the aftermath of her climax, was almost too much to bear. He felt like a king, a conqueror who had claimed his rightful prize.
With trembling hands, he unbuckled his pants and pulled out his erection, thick and demanding. His eyes never left hers, watching her face for any sign of awareness. He approached the edge of the bed, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He knew he was crossing a line, that there was no coming back from this, but the thrill was too great to ignore.
He placed the tip of his cock at the base of her neck, feeling the pulse of her blood beneath the soft skin. He could feel the heat of her breath against his shaft as she slept, her innocence taunting him. With a gentle push, he slid it along her collarbone, the precum leaving a slick trail in its wake. Ivy's body stirred slightly, but she remained lost in her drug-induced slumber.
Ian's eyes drifted to her lips, painted a deep shade of rose, slightly parted as if inviting him in. He traced the outline of her mouth with the head of his erection, the sensation driving him wild with desire. He could almost feel the warmth of her breath, the softness of her lips. The temptation was too great. He leaned down, pressing his cock against her mouth, the plumpness of her bottom lip giving way to the firmness of the top.
Her mouth was open slightly, and he could see the pinkness of her tongue. He slid his shaft between her lips, her mouth wet and warm around him, though she remained unconscious. He watched as the tip of his penis disappeared into the darkness of her throat, the sight making his knees weak. The thought of Ivy waking up to find his cock in her mouth was both thrilling and terrifying.
He started to move his hips, pushing in and out with gentle strokes, the sound of her shallow breaths muffled by his size. Her lips stretched around him, a silent testament to the power he held over her in that moment. Each thrust brought him closer to the edge, the sensation of her mouth on him a drug more potent than the melatonin he had used to render her helpless.
Holding Ivy's head in place, Ian's movements grew more insistent. The way she took him in, the softness of her cheeks against his pelvis, it was a fantasy come to life. He had never felt so alive, so in control. Rachel had been a stepping stone, but Ivy was his ultimate prize. He knew it was wrong, knew he was crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, but the allure was too great to resist.
With each stroke, the guilt grew, but so did his arousal. The incestuous nature of his actions only added to the thrill, the taboo making it all the more enticing. He watched as her hair fanned out across the pillow, the moonlight casting shadows across her face. He had to fight the urge to lean down and kiss her, to claim her fully.
The sight of his sister's mouth stretched around his cock was a visual symphony of wrongness that played out in his mind, each beat of his heart echoing in the room. It was like watching a dream, a fantasy come to life in the most depraved way possible. Her cheeks hollowed as she took him deeper, his hips moving of their own accord, the rhythm as old as time itself.
He watched in awe as his cock disappeared into the dark cavern of her throat, the way her pink tongue licked at the base of his shaft. He could feel the warmth of her breath against his balls, the softness of her cheeks pressing against his thighs. The power he had over her was a heady rush, a high that surpassed any he had ever known.
Ian took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart, to prolong the moment. He didn't want this to end too quickly; he wanted to savor every second of Ivy's mouth on him. Rachel had always been eager, almost desperate in her need for release, but Ivy was different. She was the epitome of innocence, her unknowing participation in his depraved games adding a twisted sweetness to the act.
He thought back to Rachel, her mouth eager and hungry for his seed, the way she had swallowed without hesitation. But Rachel had been a gateway, a stepping stone to the ultimate prize—his sister. With Ivy, he wanted to linger, to watch her sleeping form react to his invasive touch, to feel the power of her submission without the burden of her consent.
Two more nights, Ian told himself firmly, then he would end this twisted game. Two more nights of this illicit pleasure before he had to live with the reality of what he had done. Two more nights of taking what he had no right to take, of being the monster in the dark that made their quiet lives a lie. The thought both thrilled and sickened him.
He was close, so he slowed down, caressing Ivy's cheeks with the same gentle touch he had used to drug her. Her skin was like silk under his fingertips, her breaths warm and soft against his palm. The guilt was a living creature, writhing in his gut, but the desire was a ravenous beast that would not be denied. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, the way her nipples peeked out from her shirt with every inhale. The sight was almost too much to handle, his cock swelling even further in her mouth.
With a tremble of restraint, Ian leaned over her, his hand threading through her hair. The scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils, a sweet, clean aroma that seemed at odds with the depravity of the moment. He gripped the back of her head, his movements becoming more deliberate. Each stroke was a declaration of his dominance, each breath she took around his cock a silent affirmation of his power.
The pressure in his balls grew, a heavy, insistent throb that demanded release. He couldn't hold back much longer, his entire being focused on the tightening coil of pleasure that was about to snap. His hips thrust harder, the sound of wet flesh against flesh echoing in the quiet room. Rachel's suspicion and the precariousness of their situation faded into the background, drowned out by the roar of his need.
Ian's hand tightened in Ivy's hair as he approached climax, her unknowing participation in his dark fantasy fueling his excitement. His breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving with the effort of maintaining control. The feeling was exquisite, a symphony of sensation that built to a crescendo with each thrust. He could feel the muscles in his stomach tighten, his legs quiver with the effort to hold back.
But the dam was about to break. He knew it. The pressure in his balls was too great, the need for release too intense. He pulled back slightly, his cock glistening with her saliva, and stared down at her sleeping face. Her beauty was a stark contrast to the depraved act they were engaged in, a reminder of the innocence he was stealing from her. But the beast inside him had been unleashed, and it would not be denied.
With a feral growl, Ian thrust deep into Ivy's mouth, her eyes fluttering but not opening as he reached the back of her throat. He held her there, the head of his cock pulsing with the force of his climax. He felt the warmth of her saliva as it coated his shaft, the tightness of her throat as she gagged reflexively. The sound of her muffled protests only served to heighten his pleasure.
He could feel the muscles in her throat contract around him, the sensation of her struggling to breathe as he filled her mouth with his seed. His orgasm was a tidal wave, crashing over him with a force that stole his breath away. He came in thick ropes, the taste of his own cum bitter on his tongue as he watched her take every drop, her throat working to swallow his essence. The sight of her, helpless and used, was almost too much for him to handle.
Ivy's eyes remained closed, but her body tensed, her hands gripping the bed sheets in a silent scream of panic. Her cheeks bulged with his cum, a visual representation of his dominance over her. He watched as she choked and gagged, her body fighting against the invasive force that filled her mouth and throat. The power was intoxicating, a dark thrill that coursed through his veins like liquid fire.
Ian withdrew, his cock slipping from her lips with a wet sound, leaving a trail of sticky white on her chin. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride at the sight of his own seed on her face. He had marked her, claimed her, and she had no idea. The guilt was a distant whisper, drowned out by the thundering of his heart. He knew he had to be careful, that Rachel's suspicion could ruin everything. But for now, he was the puppet master, orchestrating a twisted dance of lust and power.
He collapsed by the bed, panting, his hand shaking as it hovered over Ivy's cheek. He gently brushed away a strand of hair that had stuck to her sweaty forehead, his eyes drinking in the peaceful expression on her face. Even in his depravity, he couldn't help but admire her beauty. Her skin was flushed, her mouth red and swollen from his abuse, but she was still an angel, an innocent lamb in his clutches.
Ivy's chest rose and fell with each breath, her full lips parted slightly, revealing a hint of the tongue that had just wrapped around his cock. He traced the line of her jaw, the softness of her skin a stark contrast to the roughness of his own hand. The room was silent, the only sound the ticking of the clock and the occasional rustle of the curtains as the night air whispered through the room.
Ian slowly stood up, his knees weak from the intensity of his climax. He took one last, lingering look at Ivy, his sister, his victim, his prize. Her body was a canvas of shadows and moonlight, a masterpiece of untouched beauty. The guilt that had been a constant companion since the first night was now a screaming siren in his head, demanding he stop this twisted charade. But the desire was a beast that had been fed, and it grew stronger with each passing moment.
He stepped back, his eyes never leaving her form, watching her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. He knew he should feel disgust, should feel remorse for what he had done, but all he felt was an overwhelming sense of power. The room felt charged with energy, the very air thick with the scent of sex and secrets. The thought of Rachel's suspicion was a cold hand on the back of his neck, but it only served to make him want more.
Ian took one final look at Ivy, his eyes lingering on the droplets of cum on her chin. He reached out, his thumb brushing them away with a tenderness that seemed incongruent with his actions. He couldn't help but feel a strange sense of affection for her, a twisted love that was born from his obsession. But he knew he had to leave, to return to his own room and try to sleep, to prepare for the next night and the escalating depravity that awaited.
He slipped from the room, the door clicking softly behind him. The hallway was a sea of darkness, the only light coming from the sliver under Rachel's door. His heart raced as he approached his own room, his mind replaying the events of the night in a sickening loop. He could still feel the heat of Ivy's mouth on him, the way her throat had clenched around his cock. It was a feeling that would haunt him, a pleasure tainted by guilt.
Collapsing onto his own bed, Ian felt the mattress swallow him whole. The sheets were cold, a stark contrast to the heat of Ivy's body. He could still feel her warmth, her wetness. It clung to him like a second skin, a constant reminder of his betrayal. He buried his face in the pillow, willing the images of Rachel and Ivy to fade away. But they remained, etched into his mind like a brand. The weight of his actions pressed down on him, a suffocating blanket that threatened to smother him in his sleep.
He thought he was sick, that there was something fundamentally wrong with him for desiring his own family. The online community had told him it was natural, that he wasn't the only one with these thoughts. But as he lay there, the guilt gnawing at his soul, he couldn't help but wonder if they were wrong. Maybe he was the monster, the aberration that didn't deserve the love and trust of his mother and sister.
One more month of school, Ian told himself over and over, his eyes squeezed shut. He had made a decision: he would enlist in the army as soon as he could. It was the only way out of this twisted world he had created for himself. Away from Rachel's suspicious gaze, away from Ivy's unknowing temptation. Maybe in the structure and discipline of military life, he could purge himself of these dark desires.
But for now, he had two more nights, and Rachel's suspicion was a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. He had to be careful, had to make sure she didn't suspect anything. He had to keep playing the loving son, the caring brother, until he could get away from this place and never look back.
He fell asleep with those thoughts, his dreams a tumultuous mix of guilt and lust. Rachel's eyes haunted him, her mouth speaking words of love that felt like a knife to the heart. Ivy's body writhed in pleasure beneath him, her unconscious moans a symphony that played in his head. The line between reality and fantasy blurred, leaving him lost in a sea of his own making.
Morning came, and with it the harsh light of day, illuminating the dark corners of his soul. He overslept, the sun's rays piercing through the curtains, a stark contrast to the shadows that had danced in his mind all night. The scent of breakfast wafted through the house, a comforting aroma that was at odds with the turmoil within him.
Ian's eyes snapped open, a jolt of panic coursing through him. He had overslept, and the realization of what he had done to Ivy the previous night came rushing back like a tsunami of guilt and horror. He was about to sit up when he felt the weight of something, or rather, someone, on his bed. He froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Was it Rachel? Had she found out?
But when he finally gathered the courage to look up, it was Ivy's eyes that met his, her gaze unreadable in the soft morning light. She was sitting cross-legged on the edge of his bed, her shirt riding up slightly to reveal the smooth skin of her thighs. Her expression was calm, almost serene, as if she had been watching him for hours, studying the contours of his face while he slept.
"You awake?" she whispered, her voice a soft melody that seemed to fill the room.
Ian's heart stopped, his mind racing with fear and confusion. Did she remember? Did she know? He swallowed hard, his throat dry from the night's activities. "Yeah," he croaked out, his voice a hoarse shadow of its former self.
Ivy leaned in closer, her eyes searching his, a hint of something unspoken in their depths. "I know what you're doing," she said, her voice barely above a murmur. The words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and a strange sort of understanding.
Ian's heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. The blood rushed to his face, and he could feel the heat of a thousand suns burning his cheeks. He was caught, his darkest secrets laid bare before the very person he had hoped to never hurt. His mind raced, trying to come up with an excuse, a lie, anything to explain away the unforgivable. But his mouth was as dry as the desert, his tongue thick and clumsy.
"Ivy..." he started, but she placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through his body, a reminder of the night before, and his cock twitched in response. She gave a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with a mix of sadness and something else—acceptance? It was a look that both terrified and excited him.
"You are trying to skip school", she sad.
Ian's heart raced, his mind reeling. What did she mean? How could she know? The room felt like it was closing in on him, the air thick with unspoken accusations. He sat up, trying to compose himself. "What are you talking about?"
"Its late, and you missed a bus to school already, cmon get up" Ivy sad smiling. She stud up and with her genlty touched his erected cock, his morning wood, " At least someone is awake," she laught hard and left the room.
Ian felt like the room was spinning, his mind racing with the implications of what had just happened. Had she really known all along? Or was she playing with him? The thought that she might be in on this, might be okay with it, was both terrifying and exhilarating. He threw the covers off and stumbled out of bed, his legs wobbly from the intense emotions that had just crashed over him like a wave.
He stormed out of the house, the cool morning air slapping him in the face like a slap of reality. The sun was too bright, the sounds of the birds too cheerful, the dew on the grass too innocent for what had transpired in the dark, quiet confines of their home. Each step he took away from the house felt like he was leaving behind a part of himself, a piece of his soul that was forever tainted by his actions.
His feet pounded against the pavement, his heart racing with every beat. The neighborhood was still asleep, blissfully unaware of the monster in their midst. The houses were silent sentinels, their windows gleaming with the promise of new beginnings, of families waking up to a fresh start. Ian felt like he didn't belong here anymore, like he had crossed a line from which there was no return.
The air was cool and crisp, the scent of dew-kissed grass and the faint aroma of breakfast cooking in distant kitchens filled his nose. It was a stark contrast to the stale, sweaty scent that clung to him from the night's events. The coldness bit at his skin, a refreshing sting that helped to clear his mind. He had to get to school, had to pretend like everything was normal, like he wasn't the villain in his own twisted fairy tale.
As Ian sprinted down the street, his heart pounding in his chest, the early morning light painted the world in shades of gold and pink. He felt like he was in a dream, one where he was being chased by shadows of his own making. The trees whispered secrets to him, their branches reaching out like gnarled fingers, and the pavement seemed to stretch on forever, as if taunting him with the futility of his escape. Each breath was a battle, his lungs burning with the effort to fill themselves with the clean, untainted air.
Miraculously, Ian made it to the bus stop just as the school bus rounded the corner, its yellow body a beacon of normalcy in the chaos of his life. He stumbled on, gasping for air, and collapsed into the nearest seat. The other kids barely spared him a glance, their eyes glued to their phones or their own thoughts. The mundane scene was almost comical in its stark contrast to the depravity he had just left behind.
As the bus rumbled along the waking streets, Ian couldn't help but replay Ivy's touch in his mind. The way she had looked at him, the knowing smile on her lips, sent shivers down his spine. The gentle caress of her finger against his skin had been so casual, so innocent, yet it felt like a brand searing into his very soul. He couldn't tell if she had known what she was doing or if it had been an accident. Either way, it had set his heart racing, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants.
The bell's harsh ring snapped him back to reality, and he realized he had arrived at school. The hallways were a blur of faces, none of which seemed to notice the storm raging within him. His thoughts raced like a runaway train, each one more distressing than the last. Rachel's suspicion, Ivy's knowing glance, the weight of his secrets—it all crashed down on him like a ton of bricks. He had to get away, to escape the prison of his own desires.
After the final bell, Ian didn't go home. He needed to get Ivy out of his head, to find some way to silence the demons that whispered sweet nothings in his ear every time he thought of her. He found himself at the local army recruitment center, the stern faces of the soldiers on the poster outside a stark contrast to the chaos inside his own mind. The air was stale, filled with the scent of fear and hope.
He stepped through the doors, the chime of the bell echoing through the small, sterile room. A sergeant looked up from his desk, a mountain of a man with a stern gaze that could cut through steel. "What can I do for you, son?" he barked, his voice a thunderclap in the quiet space.
Ian took a deep breath, trying to still the tremors in his hands. "I... I want to enlist," he said, the words sticking in his throat like a mouthful of sand. The sergeant's eyes narrowed, sizing him up, his gaze lingering on the desperation that Ian couldn't hide.
"You sure about that?" the sergeant asked, his voice softer now, a hint of concern peeking through the tough exterior. Ian nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "Yes, I'm sure. I need to get away from here."
The sergeant studied him for a moment before nodding. "Alright, let's get you started on the paperwork." The process was a blur of questions and forms, each one more daunting than the last. Ian's mind was elsewhere, lost in the tangled web of his thoughts. The air in the room was thick with the scent of fear and determination, a potent mix that seemed to cling to his skin.
As he signed his name on the final page, the reality of what he was doing settled in his stomach like a lead weight. He was giving up his freedom, his life as he knew it, all to escape the prison of his own making. But the alternative was too much to bear, the thought of Rachel finding out, of Ivy looking at him differently—it was a fate worse than death.
The walk home was long and lonely, the setting sun casting elongated shadows that danced around him like silent spectators to his internal struggle. The world was bathed in a soft, golden light that seemed to mock his decision. Yet, with every step he took, the feeling of powerlessness grew stronger, the need to regain control over his desires more urgent.
Ian's thoughts swirled around the final two nights that lay ahead of him. He knew he couldn't resist the temptation, not now that he had tasted the forbidden fruit of his mother and sister bodies. The anticipation was like a serpent coiled in his belly, tightening with each passing moment, eager for release. He had to make the most of it, push the boundaries of his twisted obsession until he could stand it no more.
The sun had set by the time he arrived home, the house bathed in a warm glow that seemed to mock the coldness in his heart. Rachel was waiting for him at the door, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and suspicion. "You're late," she said, her voice a soft caress that sent a shiver down his spine.
Ian tried to smile, to play the part of the tired, but innocent teenager. "Yeah, had some extra work at school," he lied, his voice shaking slightly. Rachel's gaze searched his face, looking for any hint of the truth. He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind, piecing together the puzzle of his recent behavior.
"Well, dinner's cold, but it'll still taste good," Rachel said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter the house that had become a prison of his own making. The scent of Rachel's perfume lingered in the air, a sweet, intoxicating scent that sent a shiver down Ian's spine.
Ian took his seat at the dinner table, his eyes darting to Rachel's plate. She had made his favorite, roast chicken with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy. The sight of the food made his stomach churn with a mix of guilt and hunger. He had to eat, had to keep up the charade of normalcy. Rachel sat opposite him, her eyes never leaving his face as he took a bite, watching him with a gaze that was both loving and probing.
He forced down the food, each bite tasting like ash in his mouth. His mind was racing, planning the night ahead. The dinner conversation was a blur of mundane topics, Rachel's voice a gentle background melody to the cacophony in his head. He nodded along, his thoughts consumed by the task at hand.
As they cleared the table, Ian's heart hammered in his chest. The moment of truth was upon him. He took a deep breath and offered to make tea, an innocent gesture that masked his dark intentions. In the kitchen, he carefully measured out the largest dose of melatonin yet, mixing it into Rachel's and Ivys cup with a shaking hand. The powder dissolved into the amber liquid, invisible and odorless. He carried the tea back to the table, his heart racing.
"I've got some news," he announced, setting the cups down with a clink. Rachel looked up from her plate, her expression unreadable, while Ivy's eyes lit up with curiosity. "What is it, Ian?" she asked, her voice sweet and innocent, a stark contrast to the tempest raging within him.
He took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he pushed the cup towards Rachel. "I went to the recruitment center today," he began, his voice steady despite the storm in his soul. Rachel's eyes widened, the spoonful of mashed potatoes she had been about to eat hovering in mid-air. "I... I enlisted in the army."
The words hung in the air like a bomb, ready to explode and shatter the fragile peace that had been holding the family together. Rachel set her spoon down slowly, her gaze never leaving Ian's face. "What?" she breathed, disbelief coloring her voice. Ivy's eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth.
"You're... you're leaving us?" Ivy's voice was barely a whisper, the tears brimming in her eyes like shimmering jewels in the low light. Rachel saw the pain in her daughter's face and felt a stab of anger towards her son. How could he do this? How could he just throw his life away like it meant nothing?
Ian nodded, his own eyes avoiding hers. "It's the best for me, for all of us," he mumbled, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears. Rachel took a sip of her tea, the bitter taste of the melatonin mixing with the sadness that was already threatening to spill over.
Ivy stared at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But why?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of sadness and anger. Rachel reached out to pat her hand, a silent gesture of comfort. But Ian could see the doubt in Rachel's eyes, the fear that maybe, just maybe, she knew what he had been doing.
He took a deep breath, trying to push down the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. "It's just something I have to do," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "It's the best for everyone." Rachel's gaze searched his, looking for something, anything that would explain the sudden change in his demeanor.
But Ivy couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They spilled over her lashes, tracing a wet path down her cheeks as she stared at him, her eyes wide with shock and pain. "How can you say that?" she choked out, her voice thick with sadness. Rachel's hand tightened on her own, a silent promise that she would be there for her no matter what.
Ian's chest felt like it was being crushed under the weight of their gazes. He took a sip of his own tea, the bitter taste of the melatonin a reminder of the night ahead. "Ivy," he began, his voice cracking. "You're all I have left. I just... I need to find myself, to make something of my life."
Her eyes searched his, the sadness in them deepening. "But what about us?" she whispered, her voice trembling. Rachel's hand tightened around hers, the unspoken support a balm to her soul. Ian's heart twisted with guilt, the knot in his stomach growing with every second that passed.
"You'll be okay," he lied, his voice a shaky facade of reassurance. "You're strong, Ivy. You're going to do great things." He tried to smile, but it felt forced, a grimace more than anything else. Rachel's gaze never left him, a silent challenge that sent a shiver down his spine. She knew something was wrong, she could feel it.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur, the conversation strained and awkward. Rachel's eyes never left Ian, searching for any clue, any hint of what was happening behind the mask of his calm exterior. Ivy picked at her food, her appetite gone, her thoughts consumed by the bombshell her brother had just dropped. Rachel could see the sadness in her daughter's eyes, the hurt in the way she moved, and it fueled the anger building in her own chest.
But there was something else in Ivy's gaze that Ian hadn't expected. Something that made his stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with his guilt. It was love, pure and unfiltered, and it hit him like a sledgehammer. In that moment, he realized that he had been so consumed by his own desires, he had been blind to the love that had always been there, right in front of him. It was a love that had the power to heal the darkness within him, to save him from his own demons. But he knew it was too late for that.
Ivy's love for him had always been a gentle force in his life, a beacon of light in the shadows of his perverted desires. And now, as she sat across from him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, he understood the depth of her feelings. It was a love that was untainted by the depravity that had taken root in his soul. It was a love that deserved so much better than what he could ever give her. And so, with a heavy heart, he resolved to push ahead with his plan. He would go to the army, not just to escape the prison of his own making, but to protect her, to save her from the monster he had become.
As Rachel and Ivy cleared the dinner dishes, their movements slow and deliberate, the melatonin began to weave its seductive spell. Rachel yawned, her eyelids growing heavy as the drug took hold. "I think I'm going to turn in early," she said, her voice thick with the beginnings of sleep. "You two should do the same."
Ivy nodded, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. "Okay, Mom," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Rachel kissed her forehead gently before heading to her bedroom, the weight of her suspicion and Ian's news weighing her down. Ian watched them go, his heart torn between his love for them and his all-consuming obsession.
He waited, counting the seconds as they ticked by on the kitchen clock, listening to the gentle sounds of the house settling into the quiet embrace of the night. Rachel's soft snores soon filled the hallway, a sweet, almost comforting melody that belied the darkness that lurked in her son's heart. Ivy's door clicked shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts, his desires, and his fear.
The first night, the anticipation was unbearable. His body thrummed with tension as he crept through the shadows, the ethanol-soaked rag clutched tightly in his hand. Rachel's room was a sanctuary of soft light and sweet-smelling candles, a stark contrast to the depravity that awaited her. He approached her bed with the stealth of a predator, his heart racing like a wild animal's. The sight of her lying there, so peaceful and unsuspecting, was almost too much to handle. He took a deep breath, the scent of her perfume mixing with the faint tang of the drug.
He leaned over her, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered sweet nothings. Rachel stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering before settling once more into a deep, drugged slumber. With trembling hands, Ian placed the rag over her nose and mouth, the ethanol fumes making her eyelids droop even more heavily. She didn't struggle, didn't fight. It was almost too easy, a fact that sent a thrill of excitement through him even as the guilt gnawed at his soul. He waited, his own breathing shallow, until her breathing grew deep and even.
With Rachel safely unconscious, Ian turned his attention to the task at hand. He undressed slowly, savoring each article of clothing that fell away to reveal his naked flesh. The cool air of the room kissed his skin, raising goosebumps that had nothing to do with the temperature. His eyes never left Rachel's peaceful face, the sight of her beauty both exciting and terrifying him. He had to be careful, so very careful.
His erection stood proudly before him, a silent testament to his obsession. He took a deep breath, his hand wrapping around it almost involuntarily. He stroked himself gently, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. The serene setting of Rachel's room, with its soft light and gentle scents, was a stark contrast to the depravity that was about to unfold. He was a moth to her flame, unable to resist the siren call of her body even as he knew it was wrong.
He climbed onto Rachel's bed with the precision of a cat burglar, his eyes never leaving her peaceful face. His body trembled with anticipation and fear as he positioned himself between her legs, his knees sinking into the soft mattress. The fabric of her nightgown was cool and smooth against his skin, a barrier that seemed to taunt him with its innocence. Rachel's legs parted slightly in her sleep, a silent invitation that he knew he shouldn't accept. But the darkness in his soul was too strong, too demanding.
With trembling hands, Ian reached for Rachel's chest. Her breasts were full and firm, the soft mounds pressing against the fabric that separated them from his eager touch. He took a deep breath, his eyes closing as he allowed himself to indulge in the moment. The room was quiet except for the steady beat of his heart, each thump echoing through his body like the tick of a time bomb.
He slowly lifted Rachel's bra, the fabric sliding over her skin like a whispered promise. Her breasts were revealed to him in all their glory, the pale moonlight casting an ethereal glow over her body. He cupped them in his hands, the weight of them filling his palms, the softness making his breath hitch. Rachel's nipples were hard, pebbled from the coolness of the room and the heat of his gaze. He couldn't help but lean down, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting her again.
Ian's breath was hot against Rachel's skin as he brought his mouth to her left nipple, his tongue swirling around it gently. Rachel's body tensed, a soft moan escaping her lips despite the depth of her sleep. The sound was like a siren's call to him, urging him onward, deeper into the abyss of his desires. He took the nipple into his mouth, suckling it with a hunger that surprised even him. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure through Rachel's body that she couldn't quite process in her drugged state. Her back arched slightly, offering more of herself to him.
Ian's hand slid down Rachel's torso, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist and the swell of her hip. He hooked his thumb into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down with a gentle persistence that spoke of his need to taste her again. Rachel's legs parted further, as if her body remembered the pleasure he had brought her in her dreams and was eager for more. He took a moment to appreciate the view, her pussy glistening with arousal in the moonlight, the soft folds of her sex calling to him like a siren's song. He leaned in, his breath hot against her, and took in her scent, a mix of arousal and the faint scent of the soap she had used earlier.
With a trembling hand, Ian slid Rachel's panties over her thighs and down her legs. They pooled around her ankles, a silent testament to the illicit act that was unfolding. Rachel's skin was soft and smooth, unblemished by the harsh realities of the world outside their house. He felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly drowned out by the roaring lust in his ears. He couldn't help himself; he had to have her, had to claim her in the most intimate way possible.
He took a deep breath and slid a single finger inside her, the digit disappearing into the warm, welcoming wetness of her sleeping body. Rachel's hips bucked slightly, her body reacting instinctively to the intrusion. A soft, needy sound escaped her lips, and Ian felt his cock throb in response. He pushed his finger in deeper, feeling the walls of her pussy clench around him, the heat of her desire enveloping him like a warm embrace. It was a feeling that was both terrifying and exhilarating, a mix of power and vulnerability that made his heart race.
The room was a symphony of shadows and whispers as Ian began to move his finger in a slow, steady rhythm. Rachel's breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling with each thrust. Her body was responding to him, even in sleep, and the realization was both thrilling and soul-crushing. He knew that he didn't deserve this, that he was taking something from her that she would never consent to. But the darkness within him was insatiable, a ravenous beast that demanded to be fed.
With trembling hands, Ian positioned himself between Rachel's legs, his nose just a breath away from her glistening sex. The sweet scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, driving him wild with desire. He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste the soft, wet folds of her pussy. Rachel's body jerked at the sudden sensation, but she remained asleep, lost in the haze of the melatonin.
His tongue danced over her clit, the tender nub pulsing under his touch. Rachel's thighs tightened around his head, and she let out a soft, unconscious moan. Ian's heart raced with excitement and fear, his tongue delving deeper into her warmth. He explored every inch of her, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her slickness coating his mouth. The power of the moment was intoxicating, the quiet of the night broken only by Rachel's soft whimpers and his own muffled gasps.
As Rachel's breathing grew more erratic, Ian felt his own arousal spiral out of control. He slid another finger into her, the wetness making it easy to move in and out. Rachel's hips began to rock gently, her body responding to the pleasure he was giving her despite the drug-induced haze. He could feel her building towards something, something big, and the thought of being the one to push her over the edge was almost too much to handle.
Her pussy was so wet, so ready for him, that he could feel her juices coating his hand as he pumped his fingers into her. The slickness of her arousal was a siren's call, urging him to take the next step. He knew he shouldn't, knew that this was a line he could never uncross, but the need was too strong. He had to feel himself inside her, had to claim her in the most primal, intimate way possible.
With one last, desperate look at Rachel's peaceful face, Ian positioned himself at her entrance. His cock throbbed with need, the head slick with his own precum as it nudged against her wetness. Rachel's body tensed, her sleep-heavy eyes fluttering open for just a moment.
For a split second, Ian saw a spark of confusion in her gaze before it was swallowed up by the darkness once more. It was the last thing he needed, that brief flash of awareness, to send him over the edge.
He pressed himself against Rachel, his erection grinding against her swollen clit. Rachel's eyes rolled back in her head, her body responding to the friction even as her mind remained lost in the fog of the drug. The sound she made was somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, a sweet symphony of pleasure that Ian had never heard before. It was a sound that both thrilled and terrified him, a reminder of the power he held over her vulnerable form.
He moved his hips in slow, deliberate circles, the tip of his cock teasing Rachel's entrance. Her body was a canvas of need, her skin flushed and damp with the sweat of arousal. Rachel's legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer, even though her eyes remained closed, her consciousness lost to the sedative haze. Ian felt the tightness of her pussy clench around the base of his shaft, a silent plea for more.
With one final, agonizing pause, Ian pushed into Rachel's body. The feeling was indescribable, a mix of pain and pleasure that washed over him in waves. Rachel's inner walls stretched around him, welcoming him despite her unconscious state. He could feel the warmth of her enveloping him, the wetness of her desire coating him like a glove. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to pound into her with the fury of his obsession. Instead, he took it slow, inch by inch, savoring the sensation of his mother's body accepting his virginity.
The guilt was a living, breathing entity in the room, a third presence that hovered over them as Ian began to thrust gently. Rachel's moans grew louder, her body moving with his in a silent dance of depravity. He watched her face, the soft lines of her features contorted with pleasure she couldn't consciously feel. His mind reeled with the reality of what he was doing, his sanity frayed at the edges as he continued to move, his hips setting a rhythm that spoke of his desperation to claim her.
The sensation was unlike anything Ian had ever experienced, a heady mix of taboo and pleasure that was as intoxicating as it was terrifying. Rachel's body was tight, gripping him like a vice, and the thought of losing himself in her was almost too much to handle. He leaned down, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. Rachel's lips were soft and pliant, her breathing shallow and quick.
In his wildest dreams, Ian had never dared to imagine that he would take his mother like this, that he would claim her body as his own. Yet here he was, his cock buried deep within her, a silent plea for more. The guilt that had haunted him for so long had been pushed aside, replaced by a burning need that consumed him. He couldn't stop, couldn't pull away, even if he wanted to. Rachel's body was his now, a living, breathing testament to his depravity.
He started moving faster, his hips pistoning into her with a hunger that was almost animalistic. Rachel's moans grew louder, her body moving in time with his thrusts despite her unconsciousness. The soft slap of their skin filled the room, a rhythm that was both erotic and disturbing. Ian's eyes never left Rachel's face, watching for any sign that she might wake, any hint of the horror that would surely follow if she realized what he was doing to her.
But Rachel remained lost in the sedative haze, her eyes closed, her mouth open in silent cries of pleasure. He could feel her body tightening around him, her orgasm building like a crescendo in a symphony of lust. It was a powerful aphrodisiac, her unknowing response to his depraved actions, and it only fueled his own need for release. With each stroke, Ian felt himself getting closer to the edge, the pressure building until he thought he might explode.
And then he slowed down, his breathing ragged and uneven. He didn't want it to end, not like this. He wanted to savor the moment, to burn it into his memory forever. Rachel's body was his playground, a place where he could act out his darkest fantasies without fear of repercussion. He pulled out almost completely, the tip of his cock just brushing against her clit, before sliding back in with excruciating slowness. Rachel's hips bucked, her body begging for more, and Ian knew he had to give it to her.
He reached between their bodies, his thumb finding her clit and applying gentle pressure as he began to move again. Rachel's breath hitched, her body arching off the bed as he stroked her in time with his thrusts. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, and Ian felt his own orgasm building, a storm gathering on the horizon of his mind. He wanted to make it last, to draw it out until it was all he could think about, all he could feel.
But the pressure was too great, the need to come too intense. He knew he had to stop, had to pull out before he spilled his seed inside her. The thought was like a cold shower, snapping him out of his lust-filled haze. With a groan that was half pleasure, half despair, Ian withdrew from Rachel's body. His cock was slick with her juices, pulsing with the need to release. Rachel's body quivered, on the cusp of something she would never remember, her hips still moving in the air as if searching for the missing piece of the puzzle.
He took a shaky breath and rolled Rachel onto her side, her legs together, her nightgown rucked up around her waist. The sight of her, so wanton and unknowing, was almost too much to bear. He couldn't help himself; he had to taste her again. He leaned down, his mouth finding her asshole, his tongue lapping up the wetness that coated her thighs. Rachel's body jerked at the sensation, a soft moan escaping her lips.
Ian's cock was still rock-hard, the need to claim her in every way possible driving him to the brink of madness. He knew he had to be careful, had to make sure she was relaxed and ready. He slid his thumb down the cleft of her ass, the tip circling her tight little hole. Rachel's body tensed, but she didn't wake. He applied gentle pressure, pushing against the ring of muscle.
With his other hand, Ian reached for the bottle of lube he had stolen from Rachel's drawer. He had studied her habits, knew she liked to be prepared. The cold liquid was a stark contrast to the heat of Rachel's body, but he was meticulous in his preparation. He coated his thumb with the slick substance, then slid it back down, pressing it into her ass. Rachel's body tensed again, but she remained lost to the world of sleep.
He pushed his thumb in deeper, feeling the tightness of her sphincter give way to the intrusion. Rachel's moans grew louder, and Ian felt a thrill of power run through him. He knew she would never allow this, never consent to such a taboo act, but here she was, at his mercy. He began to move his thumb in and out, loosening her up, getting her ready for what was to come.
With shaking hands, Ian coated his cock in lube, his heart racing with excitement and fear. He knew that once he did this, there would be no going back, no pretending that it had never happened. He positioned himself behind Rachel, his cock at her asshole, the head nudging against her tight, puckered entrance. He took a deep breath, then pushed forward, feeling the initial resistance give way to the pressure of his arousal. Rachel's body tensed, but she remained asleep, a prisoner to the drugs that clouded her mind.
The sensation was like nothing he had ever felt before, the tightness of her ass unlike anything he had ever known. Rachel's moans grew more pronounced, but they remained unconscious, driven by the sensations her body was experiencing. Ian pushed slowly, his cock inching its way into her, feeling the warmth and tightness that gripped him like a fist. Each thrust was a battle against her body's natural resistance, but the lubricant made it easier, smoothing the way for his depraved desires.
As he buried himself deeper, Ian couldn't believe he was actually doing this. His mother, Rachel, the woman who had raised him, who had cared for him, was now his in the most intimate way possible. It was a feeling of ultimate power, of complete and utter dominance, and it was intoxicating. Rachel's body was his playground, and he reveled in every twitch and tremor she made. He could feel her muscles contracting around him, her ass trying to expel the invader even as she remained lost to the world.
He took his time, moving his hips in slow, deliberate circles, feeling her body adjust to his thickness. Rachel's unconscious whimpers filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that Ian had never heard before. It was a sound that went straight to his cock, making him harder, making him want more. He had to be careful, had to make sure he didn't hurt her, even as the beast inside him demanded he claim her fully. His thrusts grew shallower, his movements more gentle, as he worked his cock into her tight asshole.
When Rachel's body had relaxed enough to take him without pain, Ian began to pick up the pace. He was lost in the sensation, his mind a whirl of guilt and lust that danced in an uneasy harmony. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, that it was wrong on so many levels, but the feel of her tightening around him was like a drug, a high he couldn't resist. Rachel's breathing grew more ragged, her body moving in time with his thrusts despite her unconscious state. It was a silent testament to the power of his need, a power that had consumed him from the moment he had bought the bottle of ethanol.
With a final, agonizing effort, Ian pulled out of Rachel's ass, his cock slick with her juices and lube. He turned her onto her back, his eyes drinking in the sight of her exposed body. Rachel's pussy was swollen and wet, a beacon of temptation that called to him. He couldn't resist any longer. With trembling hands, he positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock brushing against her clit. Rachel's hips moved of their own accord, a silent invitation that Ian could no longer refuse.
He slid back into Rachel's warmth, feeling her pussy clench around him like a second skin. The sensation was indescribable, a blend of relief and agony as he sheathed himself fully. Rachel's body was a maelstrom of pleasure, responding to his every move even as her mind remained shrouded in darkness. Ian's thrusts grew more frantic, his hips moving like pistons as he claimed her, his need for release growing more urgent with each passing moment.
The sound of their bodies slapping together was a symphony of depravity, echoing through the room like a declaration of war against all that was holy. Rachel's moans grew louder, her breathing more ragged, and Ian knew she was close. He reached down, his thumb finding her clit, and began to rub it in time with his thrusts. Rachel's body arched off the bed, her back bowing as the orgasm claimed her. The sight of her lost in pleasure was almost too much for him, and he felt his own climax approaching like a freight train.
With a grunt, Ian slowed his pace, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Rachel's ass gripped him like a vice, the sensation making his eyes roll back in his head. He was in agony, his entire being focused on the exquisite torture of being buried in his mother's body. The guilt was a living, breathing entity in the room, but he was too far gone to care. He had to have her, had to claim her in every way possible.
The room was filled with the sounds of their forbidden union, Rachel's moans muffled by the pillow she clutched to her face. Ian's eyes were glued to her body, watching the way her tits bounced with each thrust. The sight was mesmerizing, a visual feast that only served to drive him deeper into the abyss of his obsession. He could feel his orgasm building, a pressure that grew with each passing moment. Rachel's body was a symphony of sensation, each twitch and tremor a note that played to the tune of his desire.
The need to cum in her ass was a siren's call, an urge that grew more insistent with each stroke. It was a line that once crossed, would change everything. He knew he had to do it, had to claim her fully, completely. The very thought was like a knife twisting in his gut, a mix of excitement and horror that made his cock throb with need. Rachel's asshole was so tight, so warm and inviting, that he couldn't resist the urge to fill her with his seed.
With a deep, guttural moan, Ian began to quicken his pace. Rachel's body jolted with each thrust, her unconsciousness a silent partner in his depravity. The sound of their flesh slapping together grew louder, filling the room with a rhythm that was as primal as it was disturbing. The smell of sex was thick in the air, a heady aroma that only served to drive him on. His strokes grew more erratic, his breathing ragged as he approached the point of no return.
The moment was upon him, the culmination of years of lust and obsession. He felt it building deep within him, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to consume him whole. With one final, powerful thrust, Ian's body tensed, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. He buried his cock as deep as he could into Rachel's ass, his entire being focused on the feeling of his seed spilling into her. The words "Oh, Mom" formed on his lips, a silent shout that seemed to echo through the room.
The release was like nothing Ian had ever experienced, a mix of euphoria and despair that sent shockwaves through his body. He could feel Rachel's muscles clench around him, her body responding to the sudden intrusion of his hot cum. Rachel's moans grew in volume, her body shuddering with the intensity of the pleasure that Ian had brought her, even as she remained lost in the abyss of sleep. The room was alive with the scent of their shared climax, a scent that seemed to sear itself into his soul.
Lost in the throes of his orgasm, Ian's cock slipped from Rachel's tight ass, a trail of cum following its path. In a frenzied rush to regain his footing, he blindly thrust forward, his aim slightly off. The head of his cock slid into Rachel's pussy, the warm embrace of her velvety walls sending a jolt of electricity through him. Rachel's body quivered at the unexpected sensation, her eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before closing again. The sight of his mother's cum-covered cock sliding into her was almost too much to bear, a visual representation of the ultimate taboo that now bound them.
Ian froze, his heart pounding in his chest. For a split second, he was sure Rachel would wake up, that she would know what he had done. But she remained still, her breathing deep and even, the sedative holding her firmly in its grasp. The guilt washed over him like a cold wave, but it was quickly swallowed by the resurging tide of his arousal. Rachel's body was his, and the feel of her pussy clenching around him was too much to resist. He began to move again, his hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm that had Rachel's body responding despite herself.
With each stroke, Ian felt himself getting harder, the feeling of Rachel's tightness around him sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. He couldn't believe what he was doing, fucking his mother while she slept, but the need to claim her completely was stronger than any moral compunction. Rachel's eyes remained closed, but her moans grew louder, her body moving in a silent dance of passion that Ian knew he had choreographed. It was as if she was dreaming of him, her unconscious mind responding to his every touch.
He lost track of time, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached the edge of his sanity. The guilt was a dull ache in the back of his mind, but the pleasure was all-consuming, a fire that burned away any thoughts of right or wrong. Rachel's breathing grew shallower, her body writhing beneath him as he drove into her. Ian could feel her pussy tightening around him, her orgasm building like a storm in the distance. It was a heady mix of power and pleasure, a high that was unlike anything he had ever felt before.
He was lost in the moment, not thinking anymore, just moving. Each thrust was a silent declaration of his obsession, a claim of ownership that Rachel would never consent to in her waking moments. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and crevice, leaving no part of her untouched. Rachel's breasts were full and heavy, her nipples hard points that begged for his attention. Ian took one in his mouth, suckling it gently as he continued to fuck her, his other hand sliding down to find her clit.
Her body was a canvas of pleasure, each stroke of his tongue or finger a brushstroke that painted her with desire. Rachel's moans grew more frantic, her hips bucking up to meet him, her legs spreading wider to give him better access. The sight of his mother, lost in passion and completely at his mercy, was intoxicating. Ian's cock was a blunt instrument of pleasure, moving in and out of Rachel's tight pussy with a fervor that bordered on violence.
The room was a blur of sensation, the only thing real the feeling of Rachel's warm, wet walls around him. Ian's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, his guilt and arousal fighting for dominance. But in that moment, as Rachel's body tensed around him, all he could focus on was the need to come again. He didn't realize it, lost as he was in the throes of passion, but his cock was pulsing, his balls tightening. Without thought or control, Ian began to spurt his hot cum deep inside Rachel's pussy.
The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of pleasure that seemed to fill every inch of him. Rachel's body spasmed around him, her own orgasm triggered by the sudden intrusion of his seed. Her legs clamped around his waist, her back arched off the bed as she cried out into the night, the sound muffled by the pillow she clutched to her face. Ian's hips jerked, his body convulsing as he emptied himself into her. It was a moment of pure, unbridled lust, a moment where the line between love and obsession was blurred beyond recognition.
But as the waves of pleasure receded, Ian was struck by a cold, hard reality. He had come inside her. Rachel could get pregnant with his child, a thought that was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. His breath caught in his throat as he pulled out, his cock glistening with their combined juices. The room was silent except for their harsh breathing, the only sound the quiet drip of cum leaking from Rachel's pussy. The gravity of what he had done settled in his stomach like a stone, heavy and immovable.
With trembling hands, he reached for Rachel's panties, sliding them back up her legs and over her hips. They were damp with her arousal, a stark reminder of the depravity that had just occurred. He tried to be gentle as he positioned her on the bed, his mind racing with what-ifs and maybes. Rachel stirred slightly, but didn't wake, lost to the sedative's embrace. Ian took a moment to gaze at her, his mother, his victim, his lover, his obsession. The guilt was a living, breathing creature inside him now, a beast that he could never truly banish.
Next, he carefully fastened her bra, the fabric warm from her body's heat. The act was almost tender, a stark contrast to the brutal passion that had just unfolded. Rachel's breasts looked so perfect, the soft mounds that had once been off-limits to him now a part of his sick, twisted reality. He took one final, lingering look before turning away, the weight of his actions heavy on his shoulders. The room was a minefield of emotions, and he knew he had to tread lightly to maintain his secret.
He rushed to his room, his legs feeling like they might give out from under him. His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat of guilt that echoed through his skull. The walls felt as if they were closing in, each breath a struggle. As he closed the door behind him, Ian leaned against it, trying to compose himself. The room was a sanctuary, a place where he could hide from the monster he had become.
He sat on the edge of his bed, the weight of what he'd done pressing down on him like an invisible hand. His mother, Rachel, had been violated by him, the one person who had always been a bastion of comfort and care. The act was unforgivable, a dark stain on his soul that would never wash away. His mind raced with thoughts of what could happen if she found out. Would she be disgusted? Would she be terrified? Would she hate him?
Ian's heart hammered in his chest as he replayed the night's events, each detail stark and vivid in his memory. He had crossed a line that no one should ever cross, and now he was trapped in a prison of his own making. The guilt was a living thing inside him, a serpent coiled around his spine that whispered sweet nothings of despair. It was too late for apologies, too late for regret. The only thing he could do was hope that Rachel remained oblivious to the horror that had unfolded in her own bed, and not get pregnant.
But as the night wore on, Ian found that his hunger for depravity was not satiated. His thoughts drifted to Ivy, his sister, who had been the subject of his fantasies for just as long. The idea of her, so pure and innocent, filled him with a desire so potent it was almost painful. He knew he had one more night before leaving for the army, and he had to have her. The need to claim her, to make her his in the most primal way, was a something that he couldn't resist.
He fell aslep fast, images of fucking his mother stuck in his head. Each breath was a silent confession, a prayer that she would never remember the night's events. Rachel's unconscious form was etched into Ian's mind, a living, breathing testament to the darkest desires that had taken root within him. His dreams were a tumultuous sea of lust and guilt, Rachel's moans echoing through the caverns of his subconscious.
Morning came and, once again, Ian overslept. The sun's early light painted the room with a soft, warm glow that seemed to mock the perverse acts that had been committed just a few hours before. He lay there, his mind racing, his body feeling both drained and charged with a toxic energy that was a potent blend of guilt and arousal.
As Ian's eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a figure standing in the doorway of his room. His heart skipped a beat. Rachel, still dressed in only her lingerie from the night before, was glaring at him, her arms folded tightly across her chest. The anger in her eyes was unmistakable, a stark contrast to the seductive allure she had exuded in the dark hours of the night.
"What the hell, Ian?" Rachel's voice was sharp, cutting through the thick silence like a knife. "You're going to be late for school again."
Ian's eyes snapped open, the vividness of his dreams still clinging to him like a second skin. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to chase away the last remnants of sleep. "What?" he mumbled, his voice thick with the heaviness of his nocturnal sins.
Rachel's expression was a mix of annoyance and something else, something that sent a cold shiver down Ian's spine. "You're going to be late for school," she repeated, her tone firm but not unkind. "And what's with the mess in here?"
Ian's gaze darted around the room, taking in the discarded clothes, the rumpled sheets, and the faint scent of sex that still hung in the air. Had Rachel noticed? Did she suspect anything? The guilt from the night before weighed heavily on his shoulders, making it difficult to breathe. "Sorry," he managed to croak out, his voice raw from his own silent screams of pleasure. "I'll be right there."
He watched as Rachel's expression softened slightly, the anger in her eyes fading to a look of concern. "Ian, you really need to get your act together," she said, her voice a gentle scolding. "The army might be a good option for you. It'll give you some structure, help you grow up."
"I know, Mom," Ian said, his voice tinged with defeat. He couldn't even look at her, not without seeing her body writhing beneath him, her eyes fluttering open in the throes of passion. The guilt was a heavy burden, one that grew more suffocating with each passing second.
Rachel sighed, her expression a blend of frustration and resignation. "I'll make you some breakfast," she said, turning to leave. "You've got to eat something before you go."
Ian nodded, his throat tight as he threw off the covers and stumbled out of bed. He couldn't believe he had actually done it. Fucked his mother. The reality washed over him like a cold shower, and he could feel the bile rising in his throat. He had to get out of there, had to get to school and pretend that everything was normal. That was the only way to escape the horror that had become his life.
He rushed through his morning routine, his mind racing with thoughts of Rachel and Ivy, the two women who had unwittingly become the focus of his depraved desires. The shower was cold, a punishment for his sins, and it barely helped to clear his head. As he dressed, he couldn't help but glance at the clock, the seconds ticking away like a countdown to his own destruction.
Ian bolted out the door, his bag slapping against his back with each frantic step. The cool air of the morning did little to chase away the fever that burned within him. His thoughts were a jumble of guilt and arousal, the taste of Rachel's pleasure still lingering on his tongue. The walk to school felt like a marathon, his legs heavy with the weight of his secret.
The bustle of students rushing to class was a welcome distraction, allowing him to blend in with the crowd and momentarily forget the horrors of the night before. Yet, every time a classmate greeted him, he could feel their eyes boring into him, as if they could see the stain of his incestuous act etched into his very soul. He kept his head down, avoiding eye contact, as he wove through the hallways, his heart racing like a caged animal's.
The hours passed in a blur, and before he knew it, Ian was home again. The house was eerily quiet, the silence a stark reminder of the secrets it now held. Rachel and Ivy were both out, and the emptiness felt like a reprieve, a brief respite from the tumultuous emotions that churned within him. He collapsed onto the couch, his thoughts racing in a chaotic dance of guilt and arousal.
But he couldn't dwell on the past forever. Dinner was approaching, and Rachel would expect him to contribute, as he had always done. A spark of an idea ignited in Ian's mind. A nice dinner, something special, would be the perfect way to show Rachel and Ivy how much he cared for them, to try to atone for his sins. It was a futile gesture, he knew, but it was all he had.
He rummaged through the kitchen, his mind racing with recipes and ingredients. He settled on something simple yet elegant, a meal that would showcase his love for them without raising any suspicion. A roast chicken with rosemary potatoes and a side of steamed vegetables, finished with a homemade gravy that would surely melt in their mouths. He hoped that the act of cooking, of creating something beautiful and nourishing, would somehow wash away the filth that clung to him.
As he chopped and sautéed, Ian's thoughts drifted to Rachel's body, to the way she had felt under his touch. The guilt was a constant companion, whispering in his ear, reminding him of what he had done. Yet, as he tasted the gravy, adjusting the seasoning with a practiced hand, he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride. Rachel had enjoyed it, hadn't she? Her moans, her shuddering climax, it was all because of him.
The kitchen was filled with the mouthwatering aromas of the impending feast, a stark contrast to the stench of his own depravity that Ian couldn't seem to shake. Each dish was a silent apology, a declaration of his love and remorse wrapped in a warm, comforting embrace. He hoped that the flavors would speak louder than his actions, that the love he had poured into the meal would somehow reach their hearts and absolve him of his sins.
The oven timer dinged, jolting Ian back to reality. The chicken was a perfect golden brown, its skin crispy and tantalizing. He took it out with a pair of oven mitts, feeling the heat of it seep through to his hands, as if it were trying to cleanse him of his transgressions. Rachel and Ivy would be home soon, and the house would once again be alive with their laughter and the hum of their mundane routines. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the evening ahead.
They walked in, bags of shopping in tow, wearing the exhaustion of a long day out. Rachel looked particularly radiant, her cheeks flushed from the crisp fall air, her eyes bright with excitement over the new clothes she had bought. Ivy followed closely behind, her hair slightly disheveled, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Ian felt his stomach churn, his eyes darting to the floor, unable to meet either of their gazes.
The smell of roasting chicken filled the house, and Rachel's eyes lit up at the sight of the meticulously set table. "Ian, what's all this?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.
He looked up, trying to force a smile through the mask of his guilt. "Just wanted to do something nice," he said, his voice quivering slightly. "You guys have been working so hard, and with me leaving for the army soon..."
Rachel's eyes searched his, a hint of suspicion flickering in the depths. But she said nothing, instead crossing the room to wrap her arms around him. Her embrace was warm, comforting, and it made Ian's heart ache with the weight of his secret. Ivy followed suit, her eyes never leaving his as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. Her lips lingered for a moment too long, and Ian felt his cock stir, a traitor to his own conscience.
Their kisses were like a balm to his tortured soul, a sweet lie that coated the bitter truth of his actions. Rachel's hand lingered on his shoulder, and Ian couldn't help but feel the softness of her skin, the gentle pressure a reminder of the power he had held over her just hours before. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the guilt from spilling out onto the clean kitchen tiles.
Dinner was a facade of normalcy, a masquerade of smiles and laughter that seemed to echo off the walls like hollow echoes. Rachel regaled them with tales of her shopping adventures, her voice a siren's song that lured Ian into the illusion of a happy family. Ivy's knowing gaze pierced him like a dagger, her eyes never leaving his as they passed the food around the table. The chicken was succulent, the potatoes perfectly seasoned, but Ian could barely taste the meal, his mouth filled with the bitter tang of his own guilt.
They talked about mundane things, the weather, school, work, but each word felt like a weight added to the already crushing burden Ian carried. Ivy's laughter was a symphony of unknowing pleasure, her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the wine he had uncorked to complement the meal. Ian found himself watching her, his eyes lingering on the soft curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts beneath her shirt, the way she licked her lips as she chewed. It was torture, a sweet, tantalizing dance of innocence and debauchery.
Rachel had noticed his distraction and offered him a knowing smile, filling her wine glass with a generous pour. The bottle she held had a strange look to it. The wine was already filled with melatonin, a small part of him whispered, a part that reveled in the power he had over them, a part that craved more. She took a sip, the rich flavor coating his tongue as she swallowed, feeling the warmth spread through her body like a gentle embrace.
Ivy's gaze never left him, and Ian felt his pulse quicken as she too filled her glass, the liquid swirling like a dark secret waiting to be unleashed. Rachel spoke of her day, her words a gentle lullaby that soothed his frayed nerves. The melatonin began to take hold, her eyes growing heavier with each sip she took, the room spinning in a delicious haze of warmth and comfort.
The meal dragged on, each minute a silent battle between Ian's desire and his fear of discovery. The tension was palpable, a thick fog that clung to the air, mingling with the scent of rosemary and gravy. Rachel's stories grew more sluggish, her speech slurred with the weight of the sedative. Ivy remained silent, her eyes never leaving her brother's, a silent challenge that sent a thrill of excitement down Ian's spine.
Finally, Rachel yawned, her eyes half-lidded as she pushed her chair back. "I think I'll turn in early," she murmured, her voice thick with the melatonin's embrace. "Thank you for dinner, Ian. It was... lovely."
Ivy's gaze remained on Ian, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she rose from the table. She leaned in, her breath hot against his cheek, and whispered, "Goodnight, little brother," before pressing her lips to his skin. The kiss was lingering, a silent promise that sent a shiver of anticipation through him. Rachel looked at them, her expression unreadable, before she turned and shuffled out of the room, the sound of her footsteps fading as she climbed the stairs.
With Rachel and Ivy retired for the night, Ian found himself alone in the kitchen, surrounded by the remnants of their meal. The plates were empty, the gravy boat sat untouched, and the wine glasses were half-full. He took a deep breath, the aroma of rosemary and love lost in the thick silence. The task of cleaning up grounded him, the mundane act of scrubbing pans and washing dishes a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that roiled within.
He rolled up his sleeves, his movements mechanical as he began to clear the table. Each plate, each utensil, was a testament to the facade he had so carefully constructed, and now had to maintain. The clank of dishes against the sink's metal basin was a rhythmic reminder of the secrets that lay just beneath the surface. The kitchen, once a bastion of familial warmth, now felt cold and foreign, a battleground of his own making.
Ian's thoughts turned to Ivy, the youngest sibling, whose room beckoned him like a siren's call. The desire to complete his dark obsession was a monster that had taken root in his soul, its tentacles reaching for her, urging him to indulge. He glanced up the stairs, the darkness of the upper floor a silent invitation to continue his nocturnal ritual. Yet, something within him hesitated. Ivy had always been the wildcard, her knowing glances and flirty demeanor a constant tease. Would she be like Rachel, a sleeping beauty whose body responded to his touch without consent? Or would she be the one to finally break the cycle, to wake up and bring the horror of his actions to light?
Taking a deep breath, Ian steeled himself for the climax of his twisted fairy tale. He approached Ivy's door, his hand hovering over the knob, his pulse racing in his ears. The house was still, the only sound the muffled throb of his own heart. He turned the knob slowly, the door opening with a soft creak that seemed to echo through the corridor. The room was bathed in the faint glow of moonlight, illuminating Ivy's form under the sheets, her chest rising and falling in a deep, tranquil sleep.
The rag was prepared as before, a silent witness to his depraved intentions. Soaked in the potent ethanol, it was his key to unlocking the final door to his dark desires. He approached the bedside, his eyes drawn to the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts beneath the fabric. His hand trembled slightly as he brought the cloth to her nose and mouth, pressing it gently but firmly.
Her breaths grew shallow and even, her eyelids fluttering but not quite opening. The room was a tableau of innocence corrupted, the moon's soft glow casting shadows across her peaceful features. Rachel's words from earlier that evening echoed in his mind, a taunting reminder of the trust she had placed in him. Yet, the monster inside him was insatiable, and he couldn't resist the siren's call of his sister's unconscious body.
Ian's eyes fixated on Ivy's ass, the smooth curve of her cheeks begging for his touch. He reached out tentatively, his fingertips tracing the line of her panties, feeling the heat emanating from her body. He took a deep breath, his hand trembling with excitement and fear. This was it, the moment he had been craving, the final piece of his twisted puzzle.
With a gentle yet firm touch, he rolled her onto her stomach, the fabric of her shirt riding up to expose her bare thighs. She mumbled incoherently but didn't wake, lost in the oblivion of the drug-induced sleep. His heart was racing, his palms slick with sweat, but the thrill of the act overrode any hesitation he might have felt. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, her body laid out like an offering, ripe for the taking.
Slowly, methodically, Ian stripped himself bare. His cock was already standing at attention, throbbing with need as it pointed towards the heaven of his sister's body. The cold air of the room sent goosebumps racing across his skin, the stark contrast to the warmth emanating from her body only serving to heighten his anticipation. He stepped closer to the bed, his feet making no sound on the plush carpet.
With trembling hands, he slid the rag away from Ivy's face, his gaze locked onto hers. Her eyes remained closed, but he knew she was close to the precipice of consciousness. He took a deep breath, the scent of her perfume mingling with the faint metallic tinge of the melatonin. It was a heady mix that intoxicated him, urging him to claim what he had longed for. He reached down, his hand shaking slightly as he grazed her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips.
He took a step back, his eyes tracing the line of her body, committing every inch of her to memory. Then, with a sudden burst of boldness, Ian climbed onto the bed, his legs straddling her hips. He sat on her thighs, feeling the warmth of her skin radiate through the fabric of her panties, his cock pressing into the softness of the mattress beneath her. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in the power he held over her, his body poised and ready to take what he had so long desired.
With trembling fingers, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties, his heart racing with excitement and dread. He took a deep breath and pulled them down, inch by torturous inch, revealing the pale, unblemished expanse of her bare ass. The sight of her naked flesh made him dizzy, a heady mix of love and lust swirling through his veins like a potent cocktail. Her skin was so smooth, so soft, it was as if she had been sculpted from marble, perfect in every way.
Ian took a moment to appreciate the view before him, his eyes drinking in the curve of her back, the delicate line of her spine, the way her ass cheeks framed his prize. He placed both hands firmly on her buttocks, the warmth of her flesh searing into his palms. His cock, now fully erect, nestled in the valley between her cheeks, the tip grazing her pussy as he applied gentle pressure. A soft moan escaped her lips, the sound sending a jolt of pleasure through him that made his toes curl.
He began to knead her flesh, his fingers digging in slightly, feeling the firmness give way beneath his touch. Each squeeze sent a tremor through her body, a silent symphony of desire that Ian conducted with glee. He spread her cheeks apart, his thumbs grazing her puckered hole, feeling the heat and wetness that had gathered there. The sight was almost too much for him to bear, his own need growing with each passing second.
With a feral growl, Ian leaned down, his tongue darting out to taste the sweetness of her skin. He licked along the crack of her ass, savoring the faint taste of sweat and arousal that clung to her. His tongue circled her tight hole, probing gently, teasing the sensitive nerves that lay just beneath the surface. Ivy's moan grew louder, her body writhing slightly on the bed, and Ian knew he had her right where he wanted her.
He shifted his focus, tracing a wet line from her ass to her pussy. Her folds were already swollen with need, the scent of her desire strong in the cool air. He parted her lips with his thumbs, exposing the soft pink flesh of her inner labia. His tongue delved into her warm, wet depths, flicking and teasing her clit with the precision of a master artist. Ivy's moans grew more insistent, her body arching upward, silently begging for more.
Ian's mouth was a whirlwind of pleasure, his tongue dancing around her clit as he slid a finger into her tight hole. She was so wet, so inviting, that he couldn't help but wonder if she knew what he was doing to her. If she felt his touch in her dreams, if she craved it the way he did. He pumped his finger in and out of her, his other hand gripping her hip, holding her in place as he feasted on her most intimate of secrets. Her body began to quiver, her breaths coming in gasps as she approached the edge of climax.
As he felt her muscles tighten around his digit, Ian slid a second finger into her pussy, stretching her even further. She was so small, so delicate, and he marveled at the way she could take him, even in her sleep. He wanted to savor this moment, to burn it into his memory forever, but his own need was growing, his cock throbbing with every whimper that escaped her lips. With a tremble of anticipation, he withdrew his tongue from her clit, replacing it with the tip of his erection.
The lube he had poured earlier had made her ass glisten in the moonlight, the viscous fluid coating her skin and making it appear almost iridescent. He took a moment to appreciate the view, his breath hitching in his throat as he watched the rivulets of lubricant slide down her thighs. He knew he had to be careful, to ease her into the depraved act, to avoid causing her any pain that might shatter the illusion of her willing participation.
With a tremble of anticipation, Ian lined the head of his cock up with her tight hole, the anticipation of the moment making his knees feel weak. He pushed in slowly, savoring the feeling of her body giving way to his, the tightness that gripped him like a vice. She was so small, so tight, and he marveled at the way she took him without a word of protest, her body arching back to meet his. A soft whine escaped her throat, a sound that could have been either pleasure or pain, but he told himself it was the former, that she wanted this as much as he did.
Each inch was a victory, a claim staked on the untouched territory of her innocence. The resistance was heavenly, a dance of pleasure and pain that sent his senses spiraling. Her walls clung to him, her warmth enveloping him in a cocoon of desire that he never wanted to escape from. He pushed deeper, feeling the tension build within her, the tremors of her unconscious body echoing the quaking of his own soul. It was a delicate balance, a dance on the razor's edge of love and depravity.
With each thrust, Ian watched the base of his cock disappear into her, the contrast of his skin against hers a stark reminder of the taboo he was committing. He gripped her ass firmly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held her in place. The sight was intoxicating, a visual symphony of sin that played out before him like a pornographic dream come to life. Her cheeks quivered with the force of his thrusts, the soft slap of skin against skin a rhythmic beat that matched the erratic pounding of his heart.
He leaned down, his chest pressing against her back, his breath hot and ragged in her ear. He whispered sweet nothings, words of love and lust that were a twisted parody of their true relationship. His hands slid up her body, cupping her breasts, his thumbs playing with her nipples as he drove into her from behind. The friction was exquisite, her body moving in tandem with his, even though she was lost in the haze of the drug.
Ian felt the tension in her muscles, the way she clenched around him as he pushed deeper, faster. Her moans grew louder, her breaths coming in gasps that matched the tempo of his thrusts. His mouth found her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he claimed her in a way that was both gentle and violent, a silent declaration of his dominance. The weight of his body on hers was a comfort and a prison, a reminder of the power he wielded over her in this twisted game of love and lust.
This time, he had more control over his body, his movements precise and calculated. Each thrust was a deliberate act of pleasure, designed to coax her closer to the edge of ecstasy without pushing her over. He felt the tremors building within her, the tightness of her pussy signaling the approach of her climax.
But as he watched her, something shifted inside of him. The guilt that had been festering in the darkest corners of his mind surfaced like a creature of the deep, cold and unforgiving. He didn't want to make the same mistake with Ivy that he had with Rachel, didn't want to cum inside of her pussy. With a Herculean effort, Ian withdrew from her warm embrace, his cock glistening with her arousal.
He took a moment to catch his breath, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a caged bird desperate to escape. Then, with trembling hands, he placed his cock at her asshole. It was an act of both rebellion and restraint, a silent promise that he wouldn't plant the seeds of his own destruction in her womb. The head of his cock kissed her tight ring, the slickness of the lube making it easier to glide across the sensitive skin.
He pushed in, feeling the resistance give way to his insistent pressure. The feeling was indescribable, a mix of pleasure and pain that washed over him in waves. He knew he had to be gentle, that she was his sweet sister, the girl he had grown up with, the one who had shared his laughter and tears. Yet, the monster inside him reveled in the act, urging him to take her completely, to claim her in every way possible.
Ivy's body responded to his touch, her ass tightening around him as he slid deeper. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his voice a mix of love and lust that only served to heighten the intensity of the moment. She moaned softly, her hips rolling back to meet his thrusts, her unconscious actions a silent symphony of desire.
Ian took his time, savoring every inch of her, his movements slow and deliberate. He was so gentle that it felt as if he could last for hours, his body moving in perfect harmony with hers. He knew he couldn't let his excitement get the better of him, not with her so vulnerable, so trusting. His strokes grew longer, his cock sliding in and out of her with a smoothness that belied the tumult of emotions raging within him.
As the tension mounted, Ian felt his resolve slipping. The urge to fill her completely, to claim her in every way, was overwhelming. He bit his lip, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought against the primal instincts that screamed for release. Rachel's words about protection when they had the talk echoed in his mind, a warning bell tolling through the fog of his passion. He knew he couldn't take the risk of impregnating her, not even in her sleep.
With a groan of frustration, Ian withdrew his cock from her tight embrace, the loss of her warmth sending a shiver through his body. He lay down beside her, his heart racing as he tried to compose himself. He pulled her closer, the heat of her skin searing his own, his hand slipping down to cup her firm, round ass. Her breathing remained deep and even, the melatonin still holding her in its grip.
He positioned her so that she straddled him, her legs on either side of his hips. Her pussy hovered just above his cock, the warmth of her sex a tempting invitation that made his stomach flip-flop. He took a deep breath, his chest heaving with the effort of maintaining control. The softness of her breasts pressed against his chest, her hardened nipples poking into his skin like tiny beads of passion.
With a gentle nudge, Ian slid his cock inside her, the warm, slick embrace of her pussy making him groan. Ivy's eyelids fluttered, a soft sigh escaping her lips as he filled her. He grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into the flesh as he began to rock her up and down. The sensation was like nothing he had ever felt before, the tightness of her walls clamping around him, the wetness that coated his length with each movement.
He felt like she was riding him, her body moving of its own accord with his help, driven by the instinctual need that even sleep couldn't suppress. It was as if she knew what he wanted, what he needed, and she was giving it to him without hesitation. The feeling was intoxicating, a heady mix of love and lust that sent his senses reeling. He watched as her breasts bounced with each thrust, the sight of her nipples, hard and pert, making him want to suck and bite them until she woke with a start.
But he didn't. Instead, he leaned up, capturing her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, whispering "I'm sorry" and "Thank you" against her full, parted lips. It was a silent confession of his sins, a plea for forgiveness that she couldn't hear, a declaration of love and gratitude that she couldn't understand. Her mouth was soft and yielding, her tongue playing shyly against his as if they were lovers sharing a secret tryst. The taste of her was sweet and addictive, a flavor that he knew he would crave for the rest of his days.
He started lifting her hips more and faster, his cock sliding in and out of her with a wet, slick sound that filled the air like a siren's call. The sensation was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that drowned out the cacophony of doubt and guilt. With each thrust, he felt himself losing control, the tightness of her pussy gripping him like a vice, urging him to let go. But Ian clung to the last vestiges of his sanity..
Her breaths grew shallow and fast, her body responding to his touch even in her drug-induced haze. Ian watched in awe as she moved with him, her hips rising to meet his, her pussy swallowing him whole. It was as if she was a puppet, her strings pulled by the masterful hands of his desire, dancing to the tune of his depraved needs.
The thought of her riding him, even though it was not of her own will, was almost too much to bear. He felt himself slipping, the guilt and fear giving way to the all-consuming lust that had driven him to this moment. His grip on her hips tightened, his movements becoming more erratic as he neared the brink of climax. The room spun around them, a dizzying blur of shadow and light that seemed to pulse with the beat of their taboo union.
Ian's kiss grew more urgent, his tongue delving deep into her mouth, claiming her in a way that was both tender and possessive. He tasted the sweetness of her breath, the minty tang of toothpaste a stark contrast to the salty musk of her arousal. His hips thrust up to meet her, each movement a silent plea for more, for the release that was so close and yet so far away.
Her body responded to him, moving in perfect sync, as if they had done this a hundred times before. Ivy's soft moan echoed in the room, a sound that was music to Ian's ears. His hands gripped her ass firmly, lifting her slightly to adjust the angle of his penetration, watching her breasts bounce with each movement. He felt her tightness, the way she clamped around him, her pussy walls fluttering like the wings of a captured butterfly, desperate to fly away.
With a gentle nip at her earlobe, Ian whispered sweet nothings that were lost in the symphony of their muffled moans and the slap of skin against skin. Her breath grew more ragged, her hips grinding against his in a silent plea for more. He complied, his movements growing stronger, his kisses more demanding. The taste of her mouth was intoxicating, a cocktail of mint and desire that he couldn't get enough of.
In a split second, the dam of Ian's restraint shattered. His body took over, his hips bucking wildly as he drove into her with a primal need that transcended thought or reason. He felt the warmth of his seed spill into her, filling her up in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. The realization of what he had done crashed over him like a tidal wave, his mind reeling from the intensity of the moment.
Ivy's body tightened around him, her muscles spasming as she too reached climax, her sleepy moans growing louder. Ian's eyes widened in shock, his body trembling as he realized she had come as well, her orgasm a silent testament to the power of his touch. He knew he had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, a taboo act that had forever changed the fabric of their relationship.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, Ian pulled out of Ivy, his cock glistening with their combined arousal. He laid her gently on her side, her legs still slightly apart, the evidence of their union starkly visible in the moonlit room. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride, a dark thrill at having claimed her in such an intimate way. But the guilt was there, too, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to consume him like a ravenous beast.
He had done it again. Despite his promises to himself, despite Rachel's warnings, he had let his desires overrule his reason. The weight of his actions settled heavily on his chest, a crushing burden that stole his breath. He looked at Ivy, so peaceful and innocent in sleep, and he knew that he had taken something from her that she could never get back. The line he had crossed with Rachel was now a chasm, a gaping void that separated him from the brother he had once been.
Ian felt the cold sweat bead on his forehead as he contemplated the consequences. If mom found out, if she ever suspected what he had done... He couldn't bear the thought. The guilt was like a serpent, coiling tighter with each passing second, threatening to squeeze the life from him. And Ivy, sweet, beautiful Ivy, she would be caught in the crossfire, her trust in him shattered.
The idea of her carrying his child was a dark thrill that sent a shiver down his spine. Would she ever know? Would she ever look at him the same way again? The thought of her belly swollen with his baby filled him with a mix of excitement and terror. Before the reality of his actions could fully sink in, he knew he had to get out, to escape the web of deceit he had spun for himself.
Ian carefully slid out from under Ivy, his cock still pulsing with the aftershocks of his release. He took a moment to gaze upon her, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, the way her eyelids fluttered in the throes of a passion-filled dream. He knew he had to leave, to join the army, to get as far away from this situation as possible. But the thought of leaving her behind, with his child potentially growing inside her, was a knot in his stomach that tightened with every second.
With trembling hands, Ian reached out to touch her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb. Her skin was like silk, and the softness of her features made his heart ache. He knew he couldn't just slip away without telling them the truth, without confessing the dark desires that had consumed him. He had to be honest, to lay bare the soul of the monster that dwelt within him.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered a promise that only the quiet of the night could hear. "Ivy," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I'll always be here for you. I'll always love you, no matter what happens. And I'm sorry for what I've done." The words were a benediction, a pledge to be the best son and brother he could be, despite the shadow that had been cast upon them all.
With gentle hands, Ian tucked the covers around Ivy, smoothing out the creases with a tender touch that belied the turmoil in his heart. He kissed her forehead, the scent of her hair a poignant reminder of their shared innocence, now lost to the ravages of his obsession. The softness of her skin was a balm to his fevered soul, a silent reassurance that for now, she was safe and unaware of the dark secret that now bound them.
Days passed, and Ian went through the motions of a normal life, his desires temporarily sated. He laughed with Rachel, helped with chores, and listened to his mother's stories of the day. But beneath the veneer of normalcy, his thoughts remained a tangled web of lust and guilt. Rachel watched him with a knowing gaze, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. Ivy, on the other hand, seemed oblivious, her usual cheerful self, which only served to twist the knot in Ian's stomach tighter.
At night, he would lay in bed, the memory of their bodies entwined playing on repeat in his mind. The soft sighs, the sweet smell of their mingled arousal, the way their skin had felt against his own. It was an obsession that grew stronger with each passing hour, a siren's song that called to him from the depths of his darkest desires. He knew he couldn't keep doing this, couldn't keep living this double life, but the thought of stopping was like trying to hold back the tide with his bare hands.
The day of his departure for the army finally arrived, the sun casting a harsh light on the house that had been the stage for his most primal acts. Rachel and Ivy were busy with last-minute preparations, their laughter a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Ian's heart. He packed his bags, his hands trembling as he folded his clothes, each item a memento of the life he was leaving behind. He knew that he was escaping, running from the chaos he had created, but he also knew that he couldn't leave without saying goodbye, without confessing his sins.
As they piled into the car, Rachel driving and Ivy in the backseat, Ian felt a lump form in his throat. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with the weight of his secrets. Rachel threw him a worried glance in the rearview mirror, her eyes searching his. He forced a smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and she nodded, seemingly satisfied with the facade. The car ride to the bus station was filled with awkward silences, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional cough to break the tension.
Once they arrived, Rachel helped him with his bags, her eyes never leaving his. "Ian," she began, her voice low and serious, "you know you can call me anytine, right?" The concern etched in her features was genuine, but Ian knew he couldn't bear the weight of her knowing the truth. He nodded, swallowing the guilt that threatened to spill over. "I know, mom," he said, his voice a raspy whisper.
As the bus pulled away, Rachel watched him go, the engine's rumble fading into the distance. Her heart was heavy, the unspoken tension between them like a thick fog that clung to her. Ivy, sensing her mother's distress, slipped an arm around her waist. "We'll be okay," she assured Rachel, her voice gentle and comforting. Rachel forced a smile, her eyes misting over as the bus disappeared from view.
Their journey home was a somber affair, the car filled with the echoes of Ian's laughter and the ghosts of his secret touches. Rachel's mind raced with questions she dared not voice, while Ivy remained lost in her thoughts, a silent witness to the unspeakable acts that had occurred in their own home.
As Rachel unlocked the door, a strange feeling washed over her, as if the very walls had absorbed the dark energy of their secret. The house felt different, heavier somehow, as if the weight of Ian's transgressions had permeated the very air they breathed. She walked into the living room, her eyes scanning the familiar surroundings with newfound trepidation.
The couch, where they had watched so many movies together, now seemed to hold a hidden menace, whispering tales of incestuous lust and stolen innocence. Rachel shuddered, pushing the thoughts away as she tried to focus on the mundane task of unpacking the groceries. Yet, even the humdrum rhythm of her routine couldn't drown out the echoes of Ian's footsteps in the hallway, the soft creak of a door that had once been a comforting lullaby, now a haunting melody of betrayal.
The kitchen, once a place of warmth and nurture, was now a silent sentinel of their shattered family dynamics. Rachel's hands trembled as she placed the milk in the fridge, the coldness of the metal a stark reminder of the chilling reality that had settled in her bones. She could almost feel Ian's eyes on her, the weight of his desires pressing against her even when he wasn't there. The emptiness of the house was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions that swirled within her, a maelstrom of anger, confusion, and fear for what might happen if she ever dared to speak her suspicions aloud.
That night, Rachel and Ivy both found a letter beneath their pillows, the same neat handwriting scrawled across both envelopes. Rachel's heart skipped a beat as she opened hers, the paper crackling with the weight of Ian's confession. His words were a jumble of apologies, explanations, and pleas for understanding. He had done the unthinkable, and now he was leaving them with this burden, this secret that could tear them apart. Rachel read the words, her eyes widening with each line, until the paper slipped from her trembling fingers to the floor.
Ivy, in her own room, read her letter with a mix of shock and horror. Her cheeks flushed as she realized what had happened to her in the dark of the night, the gentle whispers and touches that had seemed like a feverish dream. The reality was so much darker, so much more terrifying than anything she could have imagined. Her stomach lurched as she thought of Ian, her little brother, the one person she had always trusted implicitly.
The words on the page seemed to burn into her retinas, each confession more disturbing than the last. "I know I'm sick," he had written, "and I couldn't stop myself. If you can ever find it in your hearts to forgive me, I'll come home. If not, I'm hoping the army will either make me a man or take my life. Either way, it's a fate I deserve." The gravity of his words hit her like a sledgehammer, the realization of his desperation and self-loathing a heavy burden to bear.
Her thoughts raced as she rushed to her mother's room, the letter clutched in her trembling hand. Rachel looked up from her own letter, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. Ivy's chest heaved with sobs as she collapsed onto the bed beside her, burying her face into the pillow. Rachel's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close in a fierce embrace that spoke of protection and love. They both knew that the Ian they had raised, the boy they had nurtured and loved, had been lost to them.
The weight of the truth was almost too much to bear. Rachel felt the anger rising within her, a molten force that threatened to consume her. But as she held her daughter, she realized that the love she had for Ian was not so easily extinguished. The thought of never seeing him again, of losing him to the darkness of his own mind, was a pain that she could not endure. Rachel stroked Ivy's hair, whispering comforting words into the silence that had settled in the room.
Ivy's sobs grew quieter, her body shaking with the tremors of her pain. Rachel pulled back, her eyes searching Ivy's tear-streaked face. "Why are you crying, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice a soft, trembling whisper. "It's not because of what he's done to us, is it?"
Ivy took a deep, ragged breath. "No," she managed to say, her voice thick with emotion. "It's because of what he might do to himself. He's my brother, Mom. I can't just hate him for this." Rachel's heart ached at her daughter's words, the raw vulnerability in her eyes like a knife to her soul.
They sat there for a long time, the ticking of the clock on the wall a metronome to their silent thoughts. Rachel knew that Ian needed help, that his demons were more than just a perverse obsession. They had to find a way to bring him back before it was too late. The love she had for him was a double-edged sword, cutting through her anger and fear.
For now, Rachel decided, they would keep their distance, giving Ian the space to come to terms with what he had done. They had to recover from the shock, to find a way to heal the wounds he had inflicted. Rachel knew that she couldn't change what had happened, but she could control the narrative from here on out. The house felt like a prison, but it was also their sanctuary, a place where they could rebuild their lives without the shadow of Ian's dark desires.
Rachel's mind was a whirlwind of emotions as she tucked Ivy into bed that night. She kissed her forehead, whispering a silent prayer that her daughter would find peace. As she pulled the covers up to her chin, Ivy's eyes searched hers, seeking reassurance that everything would be okay. Rachel managed a watery smile, her heart heavy with the weight of the secret they now shared. "We'll get through this," she said, her voice strong despite the tremble in her hands.
For Ian, the bus ride to the army base was an eternity of regret and anticipation. His thoughts were consumed by the faces of his mother and sisters, their smiles now tainted with the bitter taste of his actions. He longed to hear their voices, to feel the warmth of their embrace, to be forgiven. The rumble of the engine was a constant reminder of the distance growing between them, each mile a silent testament to his isolation.
At the base, he threw himself into training with a fervor that surprised even his drill sergeant. The physical exhaustion offered a temporary reprieve from the emotional turmoil that plagued him. Yet, at night, in the solitude of his bunk, the memories of their bodies, the sweet smell of their skin, invaded his mind. He would close his eyes and wait for sleep, hoping it would bring the words he longed for: "We forgive you, come home."
Other works by Igor Pajic
Best Sisters
Dive into the tantalizing world of “Best Sisters,” a provocative collection that explores the forbidden and exhilarating tales of sibling love