You can’t be like me, but be happy that you can’t. I see pain but I don’t feel it; I am like the old Tin Man

Well, this is a fucking first. You had every intention of thoroughly dominating this woman. Brutally gorilla fucking her and claiming her, body, mind, and soul. She’s completely fucked that up now.

Her coming to your rescue in the lot, her little acts of tenderness, her show of vulnerability... even now the way she kisses the palm of your hand after washing the blood from it... these things spark unfamiliar emotions inside you. You feel a strong desire to protect her; a deep seated need to see to her happiness. This goes beyond filial affection, and though it’s not yet quite on the level of your feelings for Beth, you can tell even now that it will grow to that or more.

It briefly occurs to you to wonder at your newfound capacity for positive emotions toward others. Perhaps the Affection Multiplier works both ways? Your train of thought derails into a segue about how they call the setup function in computer programs a ‘wizard’, and that this particular wizard has managed to give the Tin Man a heart. All thoughts are drowned out when her lips once more meet yours.

The trip to the bedroom is one of intimate touching and gentle caresses, each of you seemingly astonished by the nearness of the other and basking in the glow of each other’s desires. The feeling of lust that often follows an adrenaline dump is still setting all your nerve endings on fire and each tender touch or kiss feels like a million kisses or caresses.

The bedroom is dark when you enter, Pyewacket weaving between your legs like a stunt driver on a serpentine. Chrissy briefly lets you go and lights a couple candles and incense sticks, so you take the opportunity to observe your surroundings. The decor of the rest of the house seems to have carried over into the lady’s boudoir; pentacles and dream catchers abound, as do candles and various other occult paraphernalia. The color scheme trends toward red and midnight blue. Pyewacket has claimed a spot atop what looks to be an altar and is giving you the same attention you imagine she would give a mouse.

Chrissy finishes her preparations by keying up Loreena McKennitt’s The Book Of Secrets on a nearby sound system and lays on the queen sized mattress with a quote from Top Gun. “Take me now, or lose me forever.”

You need no further impetus and climb on to the bed at the foot and gazing up the soft white expanse of her form. In a replay of the shower, you begin to slowly trail kisses up her body from her ankles. She writhes and mewls with pleasure as your lips brush over her calves and thighs, until finally you find your way to her hairless pussy. The smell of her musk assaults your senses, overwhelming you with its intensity. You don’t have to look at her face to know that she wants you. Your tongue darts forward and brushes over her nether lips like a snake tasting the air. You stop after a single lick and gaze up at her. Her head is back, facing the ceiling, her improbable breasts rise and fall, another testament to her surgeon’s art. Satisfied that you’re both on the same page you forgo preamble and lower your head to feast.

She tastes different from Beth, but somehow familiar as well, the sweet earthy acid of her arousal making your tongue and lips tingle as you tongue her pussy with gusto, licking, sucking, nibbling. She lets out a low moan and grips you by the hair, grinding her hips against your face, but you’re not about to let her off so easily. You brush her hands away and press her legs apart as you begin to tongue-fuck her, finally finishing with two fingers up her snatch as you raise your head and begin scaling her body, your turgid cock sliding against her leg.

All women are the same height lying down. You come face to face with her, your dick brushing against her nether lips, and gaze down at her. She reaches up and pulls you toward her, seeking your lips with hers, eagerly tasting her own juices on you, then sighs into your mouth as you enter her for the first time. Your cock fits inside her like a warm wet velvet glove, and as lubricated as she is, you quickly find a steady rhythm of thrusting and her hips rise each time to meet you.

This isn’t fucking. You realize almost right away that you are truly making love to this woman, your lovely half-sister, your thrusts firm but gentle, her expression one of pure bliss as you look down at her. Her long white hair is spread out beneath her, draped over the red silk pillowcase and contrasting beautifully with the colors. Your orgasm is simultaneous, your eyes locked on each other’s as you fill her with your seed and her lower lips grip your member in a way that tells you she definitely does kegel exercises. Your shared climax seems to last forever, the only thing making this moment less than perfect is the fact that Pyewacket has made her way to the top of the bed and is sitting on the ornately carved headboard staring at you with what almost looks like approval.

Spent, you collapsed on top of Chrissy and take her in your arms. It’s not long before you both drift off to sleep to the sounds of Ms. McKennitt’s The Highwayman and Pyewacket’s soft purring.