The Uber dropped me off at the curb of a house I’d never seen before. It was a rental, Marie had said, just a temporary spot until she figured things out. Moving out of our childhood home had been a big deal for her, even at 27. For me, at 18, it just felt like another step in her slow fade from my orbit.
The porch light was off, but a warm, hazy glow spilled from a window on the first floor. A beat thumped faintly, some indie pop I didn’t recognize. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorbell. I hadn’t seen Marie since she packed her last box a month ago. We’d always been close, but lately, it felt like she was a different person, chasing something I couldn’t quite grasp.
I rang the bell. The music stopped abruptly. Footsteps clunked inside, followed by a muffled laugh. The door swung open and there she was, Marie, a little wobbly on her feet, a wide, boozy grin on her face. Her hair, usually neat, was a wild tangle around her shoulders. She wore an oversized band t-shirt and ripped jeans, a half-empty glass of red wine clutched in her hand.
“Marky! You made it!” she slurred, pulling me into a tight hug that smelled of cheap perfume and wine. It was a hug that lingered a beat too long, or maybe I was just imagining it.
“Hey, Marie,” I mumbled, feeling awkward, my backpack digging into my spine. “Is this the new place?”
She pulled back, her eyes bright, a little unfocused. “Yeah! Come in, come in. It’s a mess, but what else is new, right?” She laughed, a loud, slightly off-key sound.
I stepped inside. The house was small, with an open-plan living room and kitchen. Boxes were stacked against one wall, unpacked. Empty take-out containers littered the coffee table, next to a scattering of bottles – beer, wine, a half-empty bottle of tequila. A woman I didn’t know was sprawled on the sofa, her legs carelessly draped over the armrest, a cigarette burning forgotten in an ashtray beside her. She had dark, cropped hair and eyes that seemed to take me in with a single, appraising glance.
“Mark, this is Helen,” Marie announced, gesturing vaguely with her wine glass. “Helen, this is my baby brother, Mark.”
Helen just smiled, a slow, predatory curve of her lips. “Baby brother, huh? He’s a big boy, Marie.” Her voice was low, raspy, like she’d smoked too many of those cigarettes. She didn’t move from the sofa.
I felt a flush creep up my neck. “Nice to meet you.”
“Don’t mind her,” Marie giggled, nudging me. “She’s a menace. Come, let me get you a drink. What do you want? We got everything. Beer, wine, some… interesting concoctions.”
“Uh, a beer is fine,” I said, feeling my stomach churn with a mix of nerves and a growing sense of unease. This wasn’t the Marie I knew. Or maybe it was, and I just hadn’t seen this side of her.
Marie disappeared into the kitchen, fumbling with the fridge. Helen watched me, her eyes unsettlingly direct. “So, Marky,” she drawled, taking a slow puff from her cigarette. “Marie talks about you. Says you’re the quiet type.”
I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “I guess.”
“Nothing wrong with quiet,” she said, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Gives you time to observe, right?”
I just nodded, not knowing how to respond. Marie reappeared, triumphantly holding a lukewarm beer bottle. “Here you go! Sorry it’s not super cold. Fridge is on the fritz.”
I took a swig. It was a cheap lager, but it did the trick. The metallic taste coated my tongue. Marie plopped down on the floor, leaning against the coffee table. Helen sat up, stubbing out her cigarette.
“So, what’s new, Marky?” Marie asked, looking at me with that same glazed expression. “Still acing all your classes? Still spending all your time in your room reading?”
I could feel a familiar irritation bubble up. She always made it sound like I was boring. “I’m doing fine. Just… getting ready for college applications.”
“Oh, college, right.” Marie waved a dismissive hand. “Such a bore. Helen and I were just talking about how much better life is when you just say ‘fuck it’ and do what you want.”
Helen chuckled. “Marie’s a free spirit, Mark. She just needed a little push.”
Marie beamed at Helen. “You’re the best, you know that?” She grabbed the tequila bottle and two shot glasses. “Let’s do shots! To freedom!”
I protested. “Marie, I just got here. And I’m not really a tequila person.”
“Nonsense!” she insisted, pouring generous amounts into the glasses. “Live a little, Marky. You’re eighteen now. You’re an adult. You can handle it.”
I looked at the clear liquid, then at Marie’s insistent gaze. It felt like a test. Helen was watching too, a faint smirk playing on her lips. I picked up a glass. The first shot burned, a raw fire sliding down my throat. My eyes watered. Marie clapped her hands.
“See? You’re a natural!”
The night blurred after that. More beers, more shots. Marie and Helen told stories about their new jobs, their wild nights out, an endless stream of gossip and laughter that I only half-understood. They talked about mutual friends I didn’t know, inside jokes that left me on the outside. I tried to contribute, but my words felt clumsy, my experiences mundane compared to theirs.
Marie, usually my confidante, now felt like a stranger. She was louder, more uninhibited, touching Helen’s arm, leaning into her laughter, their bodies close on the sofa. There was an energy between them, a shared recklessness that pulsed in the air. I kept drinking, hoping to catch up, to feel as loose and free as them.
My head spun. The room seemed warmer, the lights brighter. I started to feel numb, a comfortable haze settling over me. Conversation drifted from their job to their ex-boyfriends, then to mine, or lack thereof.
“Oh, Marky’s a virgin, aren’t you, little brother?” Marie slurred, nudging me playfully. Her touch felt hot through my shirt.
My face burned. “Marie!”
Helen let out a throaty laugh. “Nothing wrong with that. Gives you something to look forward to.” She winked at me, and I felt a jolt of something I couldn’t name – embarrassment, a flicker of heat, a deep discomfort.
“Speaking of looking forward,” Marie said, grabbing a nearly empty bottle of wine. “This is getting boring. We need to spice things up.” She looked at Helen, her eyes glinting. “Truth or Dare?”
Helen’s smile widened. “Now you’re talking, my love.” She turned to me. “You in, Marky?”
My heart hammered. I wanted to say no, to grab my bag and bolt. But the alcohol had loosened my tongue, dulled my senses. And I didn’t want to seem like a coward. “Sure,” I mumbled.
“Great!” Marie clapped her hands. “I’ll start. Helen, truth or dare?”
“Dare, obviously,” Helen said, raising an eyebrow.
“Hmm…” Marie thought for a moment, her gaze sweeping over the room. “I dare you to… go outside and moon the neighbors!”
Helen laughed, a sharp bark. “Easy!” She stood up, hitched down her jeans, flashed her bare ass at the window for a split second, then pulled them back up, all with a dramatic flourish. Marie cheered. I just stared, my mouth slightly agape.
“Your turn, Helen!” Marie said, giggling.
Helen turned to me, her eyes glinting. “Mark. Truth or dare?”
I swallowed hard. “Truth.”
She leaned forward, her voice dropping. “What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever thought about your sister?”
My breath hitched. The blood drained from my face. Marie let out a squeal of laughter. “Helen! Don’t torment him!”
But Helen ignored her, her gaze fixed on me. “Well?”
My mind raced. I couldn’t actually say what I was thinking. The alcohol made my thoughts sharper, darker. I had to come up with something, anything. “Uh… I don’t know. I guess… maybe I thought she was hot in that dress she wore to Mom and Dad’s anniversary party last year.” It was a lie, mostly. Not the dirtiest thing, but enough to make my cheeks burn and Marie to blush slightly.
“Ooh, a little taboo!” Helen purred, clearly amused. “I like it. Your turn, Mark.”
My turn. My mind felt like a fog. I looked at Marie, then at Helen. The air was thick with smoke and the cloying smell of cheap booze. “Marie. Truth or dare?”
She tapped her chin. “Dare. I’m feeling brave.”
I thought for a moment, trying to be clever, trying to get her back for Helen’s question. “I dare you to… do a really bad rendition of a Beyoncé song.”
Marie rolled her eyes but obliged, standing up and belting out a shaky, off-key version of “Single Ladies,” complete with exaggerated hand gestures. We all laughed, the tension easing slightly.
“Alright, my turn,” Marie announced, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “Helen. Truth or dare?”
“Dare, darling, always dare,” Helen said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Marie thought for a long moment, swaying slightly. Her eyes narrowed, then widened. She looked at Helen, then at me, then back at Helen. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face.
The air in the room seemed to go still. My heart started to pound again, a frantic drum in my chest. I had a bad feeling. A really bad feeling.
Marie giggled, a high, strained sound. “I dare you… to give Mark a lap dance.”
My jaw dropped. I stared at Marie, then at Helen. Helen just laughed, a low, confident sound. She stood up, walked over to me, and straddled my lap. Her weight was surprisingly heavy, her body surprisingly close. The smell of her perfume, her cigarette breath, filled my nostrils. She ground her hips against me, slowly, deliberately, her eyes never leaving mine. It was humiliating, shocking, and a strange, unwelcome surge of heat shot through me. I squeezed my eyes shut, mortified.
Finally, she pulled away, a triumphant look on her face. Marie was clapping, laughing, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
“Your turn, Helen,” Marie said, still giggling.
Helen’s gaze swept over me, a calculating glint in her eyes. She leaned back against the cushions, almost purring. “Marky,” she finally said, her voice slow, deliberate. “Truth or dare?”
This time, I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. “Dare.” I wanted to be done with this. I wanted it to end.
Helen’s smile grew, a cruel, knowing curve. She took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes fixed on Marie. Then, she turned back to me, her voice dropping to a whisper that cut through the drunken haze.
“I dare Marie… to suck your cock.”
Marie’s laughter died abruptly. She stared at Helen, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly agape.The room seemed to hold its breath. I felt like I was going to be sick.”What?” Marie finally managed, her voice barely audible. “Helen, that’s… that’s insane.”
Helen just shrugged, a lazy smile playing on her lips. “It’s a dare, love. You have to do it.” Marie looked at me then, her gaze searching. I couldn’t read the expression in her eyes – shock, embarrassment, or something else entirely. “Marky…” she started, but trailed off.
The silence stretched on, thick and heavy. My heart hammered in my chest. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a joke, a cruel prank. But Helen looked deadly serious.
Marie stood up slowly, her movements jerky and uncoordinated from the alcohol. She swayed slightly as she walked towards me.
Marie’s eyes were glazed, her pupils dilated. She stumbled slightly as she approached, her movements unsteady from the alcohol. I could see the conflict in her gaze – hesitation mixed with something else, something darker.
She sank to her knees in front of me, her face level with my crotch. I could feel the heat radiating off her body, the soft puffs of her breath through my jeans. My heart raced, a mix of fear and an unwanted surge of arousal. “Marie…” I started, my voice barely a whisper. “You don’t have to do this.”
She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of doubt, a hint of the sister I knew. But then it was gone, replaced by a determined set to her jaw.
“I do,” she murmured. “It’s just… it’s just a dare.” Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for my belt buckle.
She was so drunk as she undid my jeans and took out my cock which was limp. Marie’s eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of my limp penis. She licked her lips nervously, her breath warm against my skin. I could see the hesitation in her gaze, the internal struggle. But then she seemed to steel herself, leaning forward slowly. Her tongue flicked out, tentative, barely grazing the tip of my cock which made me hard. I shuddered at the contact, a jolt of sensation shooting through me despite my limp state. Marie pulled back slightly, looking up at me with a questioning glance.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, my voice hoarse. “Just… just do it.”
She nodded, her hair brushing against my thighs as she leaned in again. This time, she wrapped her lips around the head of my penis, her mouth warm and wet. She sucked gently, experimentally, her tongue swirling around the tip.
“Just think Mark, I bet she is foaming at her gash for cock,” Helen smirked watching her suck my dick.
Marie’s mouth felt strange wrapped around my hardening cock. It was a surreal, almost out-of-body experience. Her tongue flicked against the underside, sending shivers through me. I tried to focus on anything else – the buzz of the alcohol, the smoke-stained ceiling, Helen’s amused gaze – but it was impossible to ignore the wet heat of Marie’s mouth.
She bobbed her head slowly, taking me deeper with each pass. Her hand wrapped around the base of my shaft, pumping in time with her sucks. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure and guilt and disbelief all tangled together. Marie pulled back suddenly, gasping for air. Strings of saliva connected her lips to my glistening tip. She looked up at me with glazed eyes, her cheeks flushed. “This is… weird,” she muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Marie’s words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the surreal situation. I couldn’t speak, my throat tight with emotion. The alcohol buzzed through my veins, dulling the edges of my shock but not erasing it entirely.
Helen leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. “It’s just a dare, Marie,” she said softly, her voice a seductive purr. “No harm in having a little fun, right? You either suck is dick or ride it hard but he has to cum.”
She sighed and stood up, Marie then lifted her skirt and adjusted her panties to the side. Revealing her clit and then she straddled me.
Marie’s eyes locked with mine as she slowly lowered herself onto my lap, her bare pussy lips spreading around the head of my cock. She was wet, incredibly wet, and as she sank down, taking me inch by inch into her tight heat, a low moan escaped her lips.
“Fuck,” she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders. “You’re so big.” I couldn’t respond, my breath caught in my throat as she began to move. Her hips rolled in slow circles, grinding against me, her walls clenching around my shaft. The sensation was overwhelming – the softness of her flesh, the warmth of her body enveloping mine. It was surreal and intimate and completely wrong.
Marie leaned forward, her forehead resting against mine. Her breath was hot against my face as she whispered, “This is crazy.” But despite her words, she didn’t stop moving. If anything, her movements grew more urgent, more desperate.
Marie rode me harder, her hips slamming down onto mine with increasing force. The wet sounds of our flesh meeting filled the room, punctuated by her ragged breaths and low moans. Helen watched from the couch, her eyes dark with lust, a slow smile spreading across her face. “You like that, don’t you?” Helen purred, her gaze locked on where Marie and I were joined. “Fucking your little brother’s cock.”
“Oh fuck,” Marie cried out as she continued to ride on my cock.
Marie’s hips moved faster, her body bouncing on my lap as she rode me harder. Her tits jiggled with each thrust, the nipples stiff and visible through the thin fabric of her shirt. I gripped her hips tightly, my fingers digging into her soft flesh as I helped guide her movements. “Mark,” she gasped, her voice thick with pleasure. “Your cock…it’s hitting me so deep.” She threw her head back, her blonde hair cascading down her back as she lost herself in the sensation.
Helen leaned forward on the couch, watching us intently. She bit her lip, her eyes flicking between Marie’s face and where our bodies were joined. “That’s it,” she encouraged, her voice low and husky. “Fuck him harder.”
Marie obeyed, slamming herself down onto me with renewed vigour. The room filled with the sounds of our flesh meeting, our laboured breaths and moans of pleasure.
Marie’s walls clenched around me as she rode me harder, her body glistening with sweat. The couch creaked beneath us, the springs groaning in protest. I gripped her hips tighter, my fingers digging into her soft flesh as I thrust up to meet her.
“Fuck, Marie,” I gasped, my voice strained. “You feel so good.” She leaned forward, her forehead pressing against mine as she picked up the pace. Her breath was hot against my face, her lips parted and glistening.
“I know,” she panted, her voice husky with pleasure. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. Ahhh your cock M-Mark… Ah fuck.”
Marie’s climax hit her hard, her body stiffening as she ground against me, her pussy clenching rhythmically around my cock. “Oh god, oh fuck,” she chanted, her voice rising in pitch as she came undone.
Marie’s orgasm seemed to trigger my own, my cock throbbing inside her as I buried myself deep and came hard. I groaned, my eyes rolling back as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. I started to pump her with my cum, load after load hurled out of my cock and deep up her cunt.
The aftermath was surreal. Marie slumped against me, her body still trembling with aftershocks. She looked dazed, her eyes unfocused, her face flushed. I could feel the heat of her body against mine, the softness of her skin, the steady rise and fall of her chest.
Helen stood up, stretching languidly. “Well, that was fun,” she said, a wicked grin on her face. “You two make a cute couple.”
Marie slowly pulled off my cock, her cum and my seed dripping down her thighs. She looked at me with a mix of shock, guilt, and something else, something darker. Helen just laughed, a low, triumphant sound.
“Well, that was a first,” Marie muttered, trying to catch her breath. She stood up, her legs wobbly, and adjusted her skirt. Helen walked over to us, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.
“I knew you two would be perfect together,” she said, a smug smile on her face. “Now, don’t you feel better, having fulfilled your dare?”
Marie shot her a dirty look but couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline still coursing through her veins. She had just fucked her brother, and somehow, it had been the most intense experience of her life.
“I can’t believe we did that,” she whispered, looking at me with a mixture of shame and desire. I could only nod, still trying to process what had just happened.
Helen clapped her hands together, clearly pleased with herself. “Well, I think it’s time for me to go. You two should probably get cleaned up and try to act normal tomorrow. Wouldn’t want anyone to suspect anything, right?”
With that, she sauntered out of the room, leaving us alone in the aftermath of our incestuous encounter. Marie and I stared at each other, unsure of what to say or do next.
“We can’t tell anyone about this,” Marie finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It has to stay between us.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I won’t say a word.”
We both knew that our secret would only add to the intensity of our illicit attraction. As we cleaned ourselves up and got dressed, we couldn’t help but steal glances at each other, our bodies still buzzing with the memory of what we had just done.
As we went to bed that night, we both knew that our lives had been forever changed. We had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, and there was no going back to the way things were before. But as we drifted off to sleep, side by side, we couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of excitement for the future – a future filled with secrets, lies, and the forbidden thrill of incestuous desire. But oh fuck, her pussy felt so good.