Monica, Alison, nor James had attended the wedding of their parents. It was a sudden ceremony in a Vegas hotel, seemingly based on a snap decision. They watched a DVD of the matrimony after they’d moved in together—which turned out to be the same day their children met for the first time. 

Monica and James came from the mother’s side. They were in their early twenties and full-time University of Colorado students. Alison was father’s only child, barely twenty-one, and balancing an exhausting community college course load while working part-time. Her father had explained to her that one of the main benefits of their union was that Alison could quit her job and focus on school.

What he didn’t bother telling her was that Monica and James both looked like they belonged on a fashion runway.

Monica was tall and slender, with curves that any girl would kill for. Her ginger hair was a stark contrast to her flawless, alabaster skin. Emerald eyes glittered when she smiled, a perfect ivory line between lush lips.

Alison found it difficult to breathe when she was in the same room. Even the scent of Monica’s floral perfume was enough to make her heart race. It had been a long time since Alison had split from her ex-girlfriend, and the heat in her blood felt foreign.

One evening while Alison was knee-deep in homework, Monica knocked on her door and entered without waiting for permission.

“How’s school going?” Monica asked. Her voice was like silk; her words caressed Alison’s skin.

“It’s going,” Alison replied in a small voice.

Monica approached and leaned over Alison’s shoulder, taking a closer look at the computer screen. The warmth of her body against Alison’s back sent a chill down her spine. She silently reprimanded herself. Monica was her step-sister; they were family now. Thinking of her as anything else was beyond the scope of morality.

“You’ll want to change this one. It’s wrong.” Monica placed a hand on Alison’s shoulder and pointed at the math problem she’d been working on only moments before.

“Is it?” Alison murmured. She wasn’t sure if her question was regarding the homework or the feelings blossoming for her step-sister.

“Yes. Here, I’ll show you.” Monica took the pencil from Alison’s desk and worked out the equation on a spare sheet of paper. All the while, her firm breasts pressed against Alison’s back, and she found it difficult to concentrate.

Alison took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of Monica’s perfume mixed with her sweet skin. “T-thank you,” she stammered. God, could she be any more awkward?

“Of course.” Monica dropped the pencil and leaned back. 

She brushed Alison’s long brunette hair over her shoulders, fingertips drifting against her throat. Alison shivered.

“You alright, sis?” The question was innocent enough.

Still, Alison could sense that somehow, deep down, Monica knew. “I’m fine. Just a little stressed out, I think.”

Monica’s hands caressed Alison’s throat before moving to her shoulders, kneading out the tension with deliberate pressure.

“You quit that restaurant gig this week, yeah?” Monica asked while she worked.

“Yeah. Glad to finally be away from that place.” Alison’s head bent forward. She sighed in relief, then caught her breath. What would Monica think if she made those kinds of noises?

“It’ll get easier soon. I think,” Monica continued, not seeming to mind Alison’s reaction. “I doubt it’s just work. Way more people in the house suddenly, too.”

“I don’t mind being here with you,” Alison admitted. Then rethought her words. “It’s just...it’s been so quiet with just dad and me around. He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

Monica leaned forward, her lips at Alison’s ear. “What about you? Are you happy?”

Alison shuddered under her hot breath. Monica’s grip tightened.

“I...I think so.” Alison’s voice shook, and she coughed in an effort to hide it. “I’m adjusting.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Monica murmured. Her hands traveled forward, mapping Alison’s throat, then her collarbone, then traced the seam at the neckline of her tank top.

Alison’s heart skipped a beat. Was this really happening? “O-of course.”

“I love the way you look at me,” Monica crooned. She nibbled Alison’s earlobe. “Or am I reading this wrong?”

A low whimper escaped Alison’s lips. She struggled with how to respond, wondering if she could touch Monica or if it would frighten her away.

“Monica, I don’t...we can’t...” Sentences refused to form as a hundred thoughts and emotions collided in Alison’s purview.

“Why not?” Monica traced the creases of Alison’s ear with the tip of her tongue.

Alison’s entire body warmed to the occasion. The room felt thirty degrees hotter than it had only moments before. She took a chance, weaving one hand into Monica’s thick hair. It was just as silken as it appeared. Her resistances were failing. “Because...”

“No one’s home but us, dear sister.” Monica’s fingers slipped beneath Alison’s shirt moving southward, underneath her bra, until she’d cupped Alison’s breasts in each hand and teased her nipples with dexterous speed. “If you don’t want this, just tell me to stop.”

Of course, she wanted it. Ever since she’d set eyes on Monica, she couldn’t stop thinking about her. Wondering what she looked like naked. She’d spent so many nights climaxing to the thought of Monica’s lips on her skin. How could she possibly tell her to stop?

“Please...don’t stop,” Alison moaned. Heat rushed between her legs, and her nipples hardened with every stroke of Monica’s fingers.

“As you wish,” Monica purred.

Monica drew her hands back and pulled Alison from her chair. She shut the door and locked it. “Just in case they come home early,” she said. They moved to Alison’s bed, and Monica’s mouth claimed hers.

Her kiss was tender and hungry. Passionate and sweet. Alison eagerly parted her lips to accept Monica’s tongue, then explored her mouth with a desperate fervor. Alison tangled both hands in Monica’s hair and pressed her body against hers. The clothes between them created a distance that felt like miles. She craved her bare skin.

Monica stripped away Alison’s shirt, then unhooked her bra with one simple movement. Her lips moved to Alison’s breast, and she continued her attentions on the hardened buds with her tongue.

“God...your tongue feels good,” Alison breathed.

“We’re just getting started,” Monica said against her skin.

With slow care, her mouth moved away from Alison’s breast, tongue circling her navel before leaving a trail toward the button of her jeans. She unhooked them with her teeth, pulling the zipper down in the same manner. Alison quivered with anticipation; her adrenaline rushed with the immorality of their pairing. The voice in the back of her head that said what they were doing was wrong was silenced by Monica’s machinations.

Monica removed Alison’s jeans and black panties. “What have we here?”

She traced the intricate rose tattoo on Alison’s pelvis—it always remained hidden beneath her jeans. A symbol reserved for lovers.

“Stupid, I know—“ Alison began.

“And you seemed like such a good girl.” A devious smile formed on Monica’s lips. “What lovely treasures we have here.”

Monica parted Alison’s thighs, then held open her folds, exposing her vulnerable clit.

“No shit?” Monica laughed under her breath. “Pierced, too?”

Humiliation and arousal hued Alison’s face in a deep red. She’d gone through with a hood piercing on a dare. With as few lovers as Alison had, oftentimes she forgot about it unless toying with it herself.

“I-I...” Alison struggled.

“What a pretty pussy,” Monica cooed, brushing the small barbell with her fingertips.

Before Alison could respond, Monica leaned down to gently suck on the piercing, tonguing the underside of her clit. Pleasure took hold of every nerve; her thighs trembled with it.

“Oh my god,” Alison sighed. She stroked Monica’s hair away from her face and watched as she tongued, teased, and lapped at the point of Alison’s pleasure.

“You’re so wet.” Monica tested Alison’s opening with two fingers, relishing in her squirms. She looked up and locked Alison’s gaze. “Should I continue?”

“Yes. Please,” Alison begged between gasps.

“But this is so wrong.” Sarcasm dripped from Monica’s words. “What would mom and dad think?”

“I don’t care,” Alison admitted. All logic failed her. All that mattered was Monica penetrating her. Feeling her lovely fingers inside of her. “Please.”

“Hmmm,” Monica mused, nibbling at the barbell.

Alison’s hips rocked in desperation.

“Suddenly so eager.” Monica slipped her fingers into the searing heat of Alison’s dripping cunt. “Pent up, perhaps?”

Alison gasped, and her eyes rolled back. Monica slid her fingers in and out. In and out. The wet warmth of her tongue returned to Alison’s clit, and her back arched with the sensations. She cupped her right breast in hand, pinching and teasing at the nipple. Monica’s rhythm of her fingers and tongue dragged her toward climaxing at an alarming rate.

“Monica...I...I’m so close,” Alison whined.

“Then cum for me,” Monica instructed.

Groans of ecstasy tore from Alison’s throat with her orgasm. Pleasure slid up and down her spine, and her body throbbed with release.

“Mmmm,” Monica hummed against her, the vibrations of the sound reverberating against her sensitive clit.

“Fuck, that’s good.” Alison’s hips seemed to take on a mind of their own as she ground them against Monica’s hand.

Monica trailed kisses on her inner thigh and continued thrusting her fingers until Alison came down from her high.

Alison was about to say something when there was a knock on the door. Her eyes widened, and she looked at Monica in a panic.

“Probably just James,” Monica whispered. She chewed her bottom lip in thought, and something devious twisted her features. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Alison stretched out her legs and sucked in deep breaths. She wondered if she was stuck in a dream. None of it felt real. Had that really just happened?

She pushed herself into a sitting position, staring at the closed door. As she contemplated getting dressed, the knob turned once more. Monica returned with something in hand, but Alison’s focus fell on James, who followed Monica into her room.

Alison snatched the comforter from her bed, covering whatever she could of her naked body.

“Oh, no, no, sweetheart. No need to hide,” Monica soothed, emptying her hands and reaching for Alison. “Come here.”

James shut the door behind him, and Alison’s eyes flickered wildly between them. James was tall, toned, and disarmingly handsome. Dark hair fell into bright eyes, and he watched Alison with a curious gaze and a half-smile.

Alison took Monica’s hands and allowed herself to be pulled away from the bed to stand before her step-brother.

James drank her in from head to toe, his eyes stopping at her tattoo. “You weren’t kidding.”

“See?” Monica smiled. She took off her shirt, her bra, then slipped out of her skirt and panties.

Alison watched her, heat returning to her veins. Looking at Monica was like looking at a Greek statue—the lines of her body graceful and taut. On her left hip was a large, Asian-inspired tattoo of a phoenix—the bird that would rise from its own ashes. She ached to touch it. To touch her. To pull her step-sister against her body.

“Have you ever been DP’d?” Monica asked as casually as if she’d ever tried coffee.

“What?” Alison thought she knew what Monica meant, but somehow the idea seemed even more out of reach than what had just transpired.

“Double penetrated,” James smirked, pulling his shirt over his head.

“Completely full. Both your ass and your pussy,” Monica’s low voice held the promises of what she was describing. “It’s easiest with three people, you see.”

“N-No...I haven’t.” Alison bit her lip and inched back towards the bed.

Monica carefully slipped a leather harness over her thighs, tightening it at the hips. The leather cording cut the phoenix in half. At the harness’ center was a large dildo slick with lube. “Isn’t she adorable when she’s embarrassed?”

“She’ll be even cuter when we fuck her.” James slipped out of his jeans and boxers. He was already stiff with an erection.

“I...both of you?” Sinful acts with her step-sister were one thing, but to include her step-brother, too? She could feel the proof of her carnal desires dripping down the inside of her thighs. Her heart and body warred as they approached.

“C’mon, sis, just a little fun.” James maneuvered around her and sat down on the bed, propping his legs forward with his back against the wall. “Come here.”

Despite the voice in the back of her head screaming how wrong it was— that they were family now—Alison went to him. He positioned her on her knees, straddling him in such a way that her hips hovered above his.

His kiss was rough and deep—a completely different beast from his sister’s. Alison could taste the musk of his lust mixed with a tinge of alcohol. He moved his hands along her skin: discovering, memorizing. The tension that knotted her stomach relaxed with the soft caresses of his touch and the passion of his kiss.

Another pair of hands joined his in wandering Alison’s skin—Monica’s. She leaned into Alison’s back, naked breasts pressing into her skin. After moving Alison’s hair away from her ear, Monica set her chin on her step-sister’s shoulder and whispered: “I’m first.”

Alison shivered with Monica’s touch on her backside, then gasped when she felt the toy testing an opening she rarely used.

“Go slow,” Alison begged against James’ mouth.

“Of course, sweet.”

James’ fingers continued to tease and tempt her while Monica slid inside of her. Alison shuddered with every inch taken, relaxing into the penetration as best she could. She’d forgotten how good anal felt; the dildo fit into her without issue, and Monica’s thighs met Alison’s after a few minutes.

“Now it’s my turn,” James growled. One hand danced across Alison’s inner thigh before he gripped his shaft. He guided her hips with the other hand, pulling her down onto him. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

When the head of his cock disappeared inside her, it felt like he’d collided against the dildo already deep in her body. Alison felt full to bursting. Throaty, animalistic bursts of sound surfaced from her throat, growing louder as she slid down James’ shaft.

“Your pussy is tight as hell,” James gasped, fingers digging into the skin of Alison’s hips.

When he was entirely inside of her, Alison’s hands searched for purchase on James’ body, grasping desperately at his shoulders, digging in her fingernails. She was so damn full. The wall between Monica’s toy and James’ cock felt invisible.

“We’re gonna move,” Monica advised.

“Oh god...Fuck.” Profanities were the only fully shaped words Alison could manage as Monica slowly pulled out of her before thrusting back in.

Both of James’ hands returned to Alison’s hips, and he easily guided her with his moderate rhythm.

Alison felt like putty, controlled and shaped by the whims of her partners. They moved inside her in tandem, simultaneously thrusting as deep as her body would allow. Her g-spot was massaged on all sides, and the pleasure that consumed her was immeasurable. Alison felt as if she was both experiencing and watching herself experience it at the same time. It was too much and, somehow, not nearly enough. She never wanted them to stop. 

“Does that feel good, Alison?” Monica’s voice came from somewhere far away.

Alison realized that her head had lulled back on Monica’s shoulder. “God, yes,” she whispered. A thin sheen of sweat covered their bodies.

“You like my brother’s cock inside of you?” Monica’s sultry voice filled every pore of Alison’s skin.

“I love it,” she admitted.

“And you like me fucking you in the ass?”

“Yes.”

“Get back here,” James commanded, pulling her head back towards him with one hand. His lips met hers, filling her final void with his tongue.

She couldn’t hold back her climax any longer. Convulsions overcame her and her body shook in their embrace. Both James and Monica maintained their infuriating rhythm, and James held Alison’s mouth to his. They knew she was orgasming and they weren’t going to stop.

She gasped for air and whimpered for...more? She heard the word on her lips but couldn’t understand if that’s truly what she’d said. Regardless, they continued to penetrate every opening of her body, chaining her into another climax. Then another. Her body was no longer hers to command. They dragged her through so many orgasms that she eventually lost count. Somewhere along the way, she sensed that they both increased their speed, pumping furiously into her. Her lips, fingers, and toes were numb.

James grabbed a tight fistful of Alison's hair, curving her back into a supple arch. Her lips parted, and her moans seemed never-ending.

“I’m gonna cum,” James said.

One part of Alison was proud of her body for bringing him to the edge; another was disappointed that her mind-erasing lust would end.

He slammed her down to his hips. Monica’s hands covered his as she thrust the dildo entirely inside of her. Alison squirmed against them, and they held her fast. James’ orgasm exploded inside of her, and she could feel every twitch of his shaft. One of her hands searched out Monica’s face while the other remained on James’ shoulder.

Their gasps and groans harmonized in delicious unison. After a time, Monica slowly drew away from Alison, and James lifted her from his hips. He shifted to the side to lay her on the bed. Alison was drunk on their lust, permanently imprinted by their encounter. Who cared if their parents had eloped? They were the best lovers she’d ever had.

Monica and James studied her closely while sense and logic made their way back to her thoughts.

Monica was the first to break the silence.

“How long before you think she’s ready to go again?”

Alison looked at her wide-eyed. James laughed.

Alison was no longer herself. She belonged to them.