The feel of your supple flesh in his hands as he squeezes, the sound of your voice, escalating in pleasure... and certainly not least of all the sight...of you before him, presented to him. All at once, it is too much, and he growls low in his throat, rising again onto his knees behind you. He does not speak as he grips his shaft in one hand, aligning himself.. he can't, there his nothing to say, no words can express how he feels. The crackling fire only adds to the atmosphere of.. heat. His. It would be incest. Wrong.It would be like masturbating myself if I touched her pussy.The thought struck me like a piece of wood whipped up by a tornado and then flung away. It slammed into me so hard I stumbled, pulling my hand from my sister’s. I gasped at this taboo idea. That touching her, making love to her, was just like masturbating myself. We came from the same egg fertilized by the same sperm. We were the same person.Was it incest for us to kiss and lick and touch each other?“Debra?”. More

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