Sadly, Not Tonight

But he had promised his sister he would not hurt Bree. While he hadn’t “physically” hurt her, he knew that wasn’t all his sister had been talking about. He… may have gone too far, now that post-nut clarity was kicking in.

It was a struggle to stay up, to not let sleep take over and bask in the afterglow. It was even harder to separate from Bree’s body, sliding out of her slick walls as gently as he could. In her **** state, she only groaned weakly as he finally left her sore body alone. Looking down at her, Sam’s mind started coming back to him and flooding him with guilt. He had been too rough after all. Samantha wasn’t going to be happy with him at all and that was probably the main victory that Bree scored over him tonight. She’d finally made him lose his cool.

“Shit.” He said into the silent room. Looking down at Bree’s sweat-soaked body and matted hair, Sam knew he’d have to clean her up. And text Samantha, to let her know they were finished for tonight.

Getting up off the bed made Sam aware of sore muscles he had never known could BE sore, his skin soaked from the first sexual workout of his life. They both needed to get cleaned up, apparently. Finding his phone on the bed-side table where he’d left it, he sent a text to his sister to let her know they were done, but had to get cleaned up. Not waiting for her to respond, Sam went over to the passed-out girl on his bed and lifted her off. Sure, she was toned and tall enough to be heavier than most woman, but he’d built up enough muscle to carry her gently to the shared shower/bath they had.

It was a little difficult to set her down comfortably on the tile floor without disturbing her, but he needed to get a bath ready for them both. Just a quick rinse, maybe some shampoo to get the leftover smell and sticky feeling out of it for them both. Sam turned on the bath and kept track of the temperature until it was just right. When the bath was filled, he went to grab Bree again, stepping into the tub with her in his arms before lowering them both into the warm, relaxing water.

Soaking in the heat like that felt divine on his sore, aching muscles. Bathing with another lush, womanly body laying on top of him was… particularly stimulating. Ideas began percolating in Sam’s mind, plans for the future, but he was done for tonight. He wasn’t cruel. He didn’t want to be like that, but he realized he was already losing that battle. His regret over his recent actions was only barely greater than the need for more, even here. He could see it would continue to be a struggle against his baser urges from now on, urges that only Bree had ever managed to pull out of him. It was likely his love for his sister was all that would keep him from going too far now, which meant more drastic measures would need to be taken.

He would have to think about it later. Until then, Sam’s hands trailed over Bree’s still body under the water, gliding against her smooth skin, feeling her body lightly give in to his every touch. Curiously, his fingers traveled downward to investigate the bulge of her cum-stuffed belly. She reacted with a whine when he pressed down ever so slightly, a strong enough reaction to know that that place was incredibly sensitive to her right now. It got him hard, touching where he had so carelessly filled her. This was her womb, this bulge in her perfect stomach, filled with all his frustration and repressed attraction for her. He was looking forward to making it bigger, in several months time, knowing he’d changed her so thoroughly. If he was more gentle from now on, maybe she’d let him do it again.

Sam shook his head to get his mind back on track. It was so hard to focus though, being so physically close and intimate with the first ever woman he’d had sex with. Maybe he was getting attached. Attached to his own sister’s girlfriend. That was nothing but trouble, so instead he focused back on what he was meant to do in the first place: clean her up.

Bree’s hair was cut a lot shorter than most women, so washing her hair was a fairly simple affair. It was, however, surprisingly intimate. More than Sam expected it would be. His fingers combed through her black matt, untangling some knots along the way, and gently massaging her scalp. Unfiltered in her sleep, Bree seemed to curl into his touch like a pet cat, humming and mumbling into the air. Washing the suds out, Sam immediately got to work on his own hair, knowing that the fresh shampoo smell from Bree was going to make it that much harder to focus than before.

When he was done, he lifted them both up out of the water and spent some time toweling them both off. Cleaned up and refreshed, he carried Bree out of the bathroom… and into the hallway with Samantha looking right at him.

Her eyes tracked over Bree’s body, her face, hair, and skin, likely looking for bruises. Not finding any, she scanned her brother’s shocked face, noting the guilt in his eyes as he held her fucked-**** girlfriend in his arms.

He looked away then, unable to face her like this, after what he’d done for his own selfishness. With a cracked whisper, Sam admitted, “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I lost control of myself. I didn’t want you to see her like this, so I tried to clean her up and put her to bed.”

He could feel his sister’s eyes on him, absorbing every little detail that could be learned over a lifetime of knowing someone. He knew she knew. He’d taken advantage of the situation and taken his frustration out on Bree. No matter the specifics, that was fact, and it filled him with shame.

“Is this going to happen again?” His twin asked, her tone impossibly neutral. Like a blade at his throat.

“No. No it won’t.” He oathed.

Sure, he had the book. He could, in theory, do anything he wanted. But he just couldn’t do something like that now without losing himself. He was a good person, or at least he wanted to be. Maybe he wasn’t anymore. Maybe this all just proved he never was.

Interrupting his thoughts, Samantha noted, “Good. I can guess she probably wasn’t exactly on the best behavior with you either. Am I wrong?”

Sam thought about it. “Actually, maybe she was. As much as she could be. But… we’d made a sort of bet. Winner decided how we’d, uh, do things from now on. I’m pretty sure I won, for the record, but she didn’t exactly leave me much choice. Pretty sure she was going to peg my ass or some shit like that.”

Samantha snorted. “Uh huh, that sounds about right for her. Not your thing? Shame that.”

That got a chuckle out of him, though he was a little surprised how his twin was recovering. He looked back to her, just when her eyes went south.

“Then again, maybe she was just trying to get back at you for shoving an arm up her vag. Jesus Christ Sam, did you kill her with that thing?”

She asked incredulously, staring directly at his uncovered junk.

Feeling a little self-conscious over his own sister staring at his dick, Sam nonetheless tried to seem unfazed. “Hey, eyes up here sissy. Now, I’m pretty tired, so I’d appreciate it if I could drop this load on your bed and go to mine.”

“Ooo, poor choice of words. No need to blush, I’ve seen a dick before. Just didn’t realize you won the lottery with yours. And you STILL haven’t gotten a girlfriend?”

Sam just rolled his eyes and turned to Bree’s and Sammy’s room. “Kiss my ass sis. I’m not exactly gonna lead with ‘Oh, by the way, I have a huge cock. Mind shagging at my place tonight?’”

“Hm, well, you probably wouldn’t get any QUALITY girls with a line like that, but you’re smart enough to not pull shit like that. Not to mention, if you do get a girlfriend… maybe you won’t be so pent up you fuck my girlfriend **** every night this month.”

That last bit stabbed right into Sam’s heart, any developing calm at the new atmosphere rightly shattered at Samantha’s icy tone. But he didn’t respond back. Instead, he just carefully put Bree to rest on their bed, shoulders slumped in shame as he did. Relieved of just a small part of his burden, Sam walked out of the room, up until he felt a hand latch onto his arm.

“What. The fuck. Is that?” Samantha asked, to which Sam turned to see her other hand pointing shakily at Bree’s distended stomach. Now that she was laid out on the bed, the sleeping woman’s slightly bulging middle was considerably more noticeable.”

“Uhhhh…” he deadpanned, completely unable to come up with any way to explain that with common sense.

“That is not what I think it is, is it? How… how backed up were you?”

“Well, uh, it’s cause I’m a guy twin. I guess. We, uh, kinda have a bit more than most.”

The notebook’s magic did its work then, somewhat calming the panicking Samantha, the new rules of the world enforcing normalcy into her mind. As what happens for everything else, however, knowing something is normal and seeing it for real are two separate things.

“Oh, r-right… she’s not… she’s not gonna explode, is she?”

Trying to keep his sister calm, Sam gently explained, “No, she’s fine. That’s just how it works. She’ll just be like that for a few hours, then it will start to drain out of her. I’ll, um, get a towel to put underneath her.”

He tried to go to the bathroom, but his sister still held a **** grip on his arm.

“How long.” She demanded, because she sure as hell wasn’t asking a question.

Doing some quick math and approximations from the time he’d finished inside her last, Sam guessed, “Maybe, like, three hours, give or take fifteen minutes. I’m, uh, really sorry sis. I promise Bree is fine. I never did anything to hurt her, I swear.”

The grip on his hand was iron, up until he heard her sigh and she just seemed to collapse on the inside. She let him go, finally, but she didn’t look back at him. He watched her ghost over to her lover, one hand caressing her stomach with the most delicate of touches. And unlike any time Sam had touched Bree all night, the sleeping woman let out a content, happy smile.

He would never have that, Sam realized, looking at her, at them both. Not only would he never have that, he didn’t even deserve it. Not after what he’d so selfishly done. He left the room then, that scene replaying in his mind over and over again as he grabbed and brought back the towel he’d offered before. He couldn’t bare to look at his sister, instead silently placing the towel neatly on the bed and go to his room. He was too tired to put on any sleepwear, instead collapsing on top of the bed. The room still smelled of sex and worst part of the night, after everything that had happened, was that scent still excited him. He closed his eyes realizing that he was, in fact, exactly as Bree had described. A sick, perverted freak.