The stale beer smell hung heavy in the air, a testament to the hours we’d spent playing truth or dare. The living room of Karla’s tiny apartment felt smaller than usual, the low lighting casting long, distorted shadows as the game took a sharp, uncomfortable turn.
“I dare you to let Carl stick just the tip of his cock inside you,” Karla slurred, her words dripping with mischief.
My jaw dropped. A wave of nausea washed over me, completely obliterating the buzz I’d been nursing. “No fucking way! Not… not inside me. Like, my actual inside. And Carl? He’s my brother, Karla, you’re disgusting!” I crossed my arms, trying to shrink into myself.
Karla, perched precariously on the arm of the sofa, her eyes a little too bright, smirked. “Not your mouth, silly. What’s wrong? You never back down from a dare.” She leaned forward, her gaze intense. “Or are you scared?”
“You… you’re drunk,” I stammered, even though I was equally inebriated, and by the glazed look in his eyes, so was Carl. He sat slumped in an armchair, looking utterly mortified. He hadn’t said a word since Karla had thrown down the gauntlet. This whole truth-or-dare thing had spiralled way out of control.
Karla’s eyes gleamed with alcohol-fueled bravado as she reached out, her fingers digging into my wrist, yanking me closer. “Come on, Kelly, don’t be such a prude! It’s just the tip, what’s the worst that could happen? Besides,” she snickered, her gaze dropping to Carl’s lap, “look at his jogging bottoms, haha, he’s hard.”
I hesitated, my cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and something else I couldn’t quite identify. Karla’s words echoed in my mind, the dare hanging heavily in the air. I glanced at Carl, who looked equally uncomfortable, his eyes darting between Karla and me. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
“What the fuck, Karla?” Carl muttered, finally speaking up, his voice laced with shame. “Leave her alone, she doesn’t want to do this.”
But Karla just laughed, a shrill, grating sound. “Oh, come on! It’s just a little fun. Loosen up, Carl. Besides, I bet you’re curious, aren’t you Kelly? To see what your brother’s packing?”
Something snapped inside me. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the relentless pressure, or maybe it was a morbid curiosity I hadn’t dared to acknowledge. “Fine,” I heard myself say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just the tip. And you better not tell anyone about this, ever. I can’t believe I’m even doing this dumb shit. You’re disgusting, Karla.”
Karla’s face split into a wicked grin as she released my wrist and turned to Carl. “You heard her, just the tip. Don’t get any ideas.”
Carl looked at me, his eyes pleading. “Kelly, are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”
I avoided his gaze, a strange mix of shame and anticipation swirling within me. “Just… just get it over with.”
With trembling hands, I lifted my skirt, the cheap fabric bunching around my waist. Mortification burned in my cheeks as I self-consciously pulled my panties to the side. The air suddenly felt cold on my exposed skin.
Carl slowly stood up, his face flushed. He fumbled with the drawstring of his jogging bottoms, his movements clumsy and hesitant. He pulled them down, revealing his hard cock. It was bigger than I expected.
He knelt in front of me, his eyes locked on mine. He reached out, his hand trembling as he gently parted my labia. The air crackled with tension. He positioned himself, his breathing ragged.
“Kelly… are you sure about this?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
I squeezed my eyes shut, the weight of the situation crashing down on me. “Just do it, Carl. Please, just get it over with.”
He took a deep breath and slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside me. A sharp, unfamiliar sensation shot through me. It wasn’t painful, but it was… invasive. Foreign.
“Ahh fuck,” I gasped, my body tensing. “There, we’ve done it. Now pull out,” I said, my voice tight. I leaned back against the couch, feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable.
Carl remained kneeling in front of me, the head of his cock still buried just inside my slightly parted vulva. His body was rigid, his jaw clenched.
“That looks so hot,” Karla breathed, her eyes wide and predatory. “He’s got a nice big cock, doesn’t he? Does it feel nice, Kelly?”
“A little bit,” I admitted, my voice wavering. “But it’s weird. I’ve… I’ve had cock before, but my brother’s? This is so weird,” I said, but deep down, beneath the layers of disgust and embarrassment, a faint spark of something else flickered. It felt… good. In a strange, forbidden way.
But he was still inside me, unmoving. I looked at him, embarrassment warring with a strange impatience. “I… I sort of want to start trusting,” he said, his voice barely audible.
The unexpected confession shocked me. Before I could process it, Karla chimed in, her voice laced with a wicked challenge. “I dare you, Carl. I dare you to thrust. Or are you scared she’ll enjoy it?”
Karla watched with rapt attention, her eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. “Go on, Carl,” she urged, her voice a taunt. “Show her what you’ve got.”
Carl hesitated for a moment, then seemed to steel himself. “At any time, tell me to stop,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. He gripped my hips, positioning himself, and then, slowly, deliberately, sunk deeper inside me.
“Ahh, fuck. Your pussy is so good, Kelly,” he groaned, his voice tight with effort.
“Ahh, Carl, your cock… oh yes,” I moaned, the words escaping my lips before I could stop them. The sensation was intensifying, the initial discomfort fading into a growing wave of pleasure.
The rhythm intensified, each thrust sending shivers down my spine. My initial discomfort faded, replaced by a growing wave of pleasure. I gripped Carl’s shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I surrendered to the sensation. Karla watched, her expression a mix of arousal and triumph, like a puppet master revelling in her creation.
“Fuck, Kelly, you feel so good,” Carl groaned, his breath hot against my neck. He moved faster, deeper, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
“I can’t believe I got you two fucking,” Karla said, her voice thick with excitement. She started to rub her crotch, her eyes locked on us like a voyeuristic pervert.
He doesn’t stop pumping into me hard as he looks at Karla, “Go on get that kitty out of your jeans and finger yourself since I am doing this.”
The room felt electric with taboo desire as Karla wasted no time in following Carl’s command. She wriggled out of her jeans, revealing her black lace thong. She began to stroke herself, her eyes never leaving the incestuous scene unfolding before her.
Carl’s thrusts grew more urgent, his hips slapping against mine as our bodies moved in unison. My breath hitched with every powerful stroke, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn’t believe what was happening, but I couldn’t deny the pleasure building inside me, either.
The sound of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by Karla’s soft moans and our heavy breathing. My body tensed, my climax nearing. I felt dirty, wrong, and yet so incredibly turned on.
“Carl, I’m going to come,” I whimpered, my voice shaking.
“Ah my pussy Carl, ahh fuck, I swear Karla you’re going to take his dick next.” I started to orgasm hard.
“Cum for me sis, don’t worry I won’t cum as I am going to rough fuck Karla for payback,” Carl smirked at me as he pounded my wet cunt hard.
“ARGH CARL,” I squirted all over his cock while I rub my clit hard. “Right pull out and give that bitch it.”
Carl, dripping with my juices, pulled out of me with a wet slap. He stood up, his gaze now fixed on Karla, who was still stroking herself, her eyes glazed with lust.
“You wanted this, Karla,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Now you’re going to get it.”
He approached her, his hard cock throbbing with desire. Karla didn’t flinch, her expression one of pure anticipation. She spread her legs wider, offering herself to him.
“Finally,” she breathed, her voice husky. “I’ve been waiting for this all night.”
Without a word, Carl lunged forward, burying his cock deep inside her. Karla gasped, her body arching as she met his thrusts with a ferocity that matched his own. The room filled with the sounds of their passionate encounter, their moans and cries echoing through the small apartment.
He was fucking her hard I could hear their skins slap together he looks over at me while he’s still hammering her hard. “Ahh fuck, Kelly your pussy feels better.”
Oh wow, was that a compliment?
The stale beer smell and the lingering scent of sex hung heavy in the air as Carl continued to pound into Karla. My bare skin felt clammy against the worn fabric of the sofa. The shame mixed with the lingering embers of pleasure was a confusing cocktail, churning in my stomach. I wanted to disappear, to rewind the night and erase every trace of what had just transpired. But I couldn’t. The memory, the feeling of Carl inside me, was seared into my mind.
Karla, for all her orchestrated madness, seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. She threw her head back, her eyes closed, her body moving in rhythm with his. I wondered if this was all part of some elaborate game to her, a twisted power play where she manipulated us both for her own amusement.
“Ahh, Carl, harder!” she yelled, her voice a ragged plea. “Fuck me like you fucked your sister!.” Her words cut through my haze.
Carl paused momentarily, his eyes flashing with a flicker of something I couldn’t quite decipher. He seemed conflicted, torn between the lust that drove him and the realization of how twisted this whole situation had become. But then, he seemed to succumb to the moment. He gripped Karla’s hips tighter and began to thrust with renewed vigour, his movements were animalistic and raw.
“Yeah, you like that?” Karla moaned, her voice laced with a mix of pain and pleasure.
“Yeah, you like that?” Karla moaned, her voice laced with a mix of pain and pleasure.
He grunted in response, too focused on his task to speak. The rhythm was relentless, almost brutal, as he drove into Karla again and again. Karla was meeting him thrust for thrust, her nails digging into his back, her moans growing louder, more desperate. It was a raw, animalistic display of sex, devoid of any tenderness, fueled purely by lust and… what else? Revenge? A twisted desire to possess what was forbidden?
I watched a strange spectator in my own warped drama. My initial shock was giving way to a sort of detached fascination. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion – horrific but impossible to look away from. The shame was still there, a dull ache in my chest, but it was battling with something else, something I couldn’t quite name. Was it arousal? Jealousy? Disgust? Maybe a sick cocktail of all three.
Carl’s earlier comment about my pussy feeling better replayed in my mind. Was he just saying that to taunt Karla? Or was it genuine? The thought, unsettling as it was, flickered a strange warmth within me. It was a twisted sort of validation, a perverse compliment in the midst of this chaos.
Karla suddenly let out a piercing cry, her body arching violently against Carl. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper as she reached her own climax. Carl, his face flushed and strained, followed suit moments later with a guttural roar, collapsing against her, his body shuddering with release.
They remained locked together, panting heavily, the only sounds in the room their ragged breaths and the faint creaking of the couch. The air was thick with the musk of sex, mingling with the stale beer and the lingering scent of my own orgasm. It was suffocating, intoxicating, and repulsive, all at once.
Slowly, Carl pulled out of Karla, his cock glistening wetly in the dim light. He stepped away from her, his chest heaving, and turned to me. His eyes, still glazed with post-coital haze, met mine. There was something different in them now, a shadow of something… regret? Shame? Or maybe I was just projecting my own feelings onto him.
Karla lay sprawled on the couch, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her hair a mess, her black lace thong askew. She looked… spent. Satisfied? It was hard to tell. She didn’t look at me or Carl, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, a small smile playing on her lips.
Carl walked over to me, his bare feet padding softly on the worn carpet. He stood in front of me, still naked, his body still flushed from exertion. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle, almost hesitant.
The question, in this surreal, messed-up situation, felt absurd. ‘Okay?’ Was anyone ‘okay’ after what had just happened? But I nodded anyway, a small, jerky movement. What else could I say? ‘No, I’m not okay, I just fucked my brother and watched him fuck my friend and now I feel like I’m trapped in some kind of fucked-up porn movie?’
“Yeah,” I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I’m… fine.” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.
He didn’t press it. He knew I wasn’t fine. We both knew. But what could we do? Un-fuck each other? Un-see what we had seen? Un-feel what we had felt? It was done. The line had been crossed, the taboo broken. And the world felt irrevocably changed, tainted, somehow… smaller.
He reached out a hand, tentatively, hesitantly, and touched my cheek. His fingers were still damp with my juices and… Karla’s. The thought made my stomach churn. But his touch, despite everything, was… comforting? Or maybe just familiar. He was my brother, after all. Even now, after this.
“We… we shouldn’t have…” he started, his voice low.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Karla drawled from the couch, her voice laced with sarcasm, cutting through the fragile moment. She finally looked at us, her eyes sharp and knowing. “But we did. And it was hot.” She smirked, her gaze flicking between us, a predatory glint in her eyes. “Wasn’t it?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Was it? Hot? In a twisted, forbidden way, maybe it had been. But the heat was burning away at something else, something fragile and essential, leaving behind ashes of shame and confusion.
I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t. I just looked at Carl, his hand still resting lightly on my cheek, and wondered what the fuck we were going to do now. The night wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. And something told me, this was just the beginning of the fallout.