The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

More than anything, I wish I’d thought this through a little better. That’s the thought I keep coming back to—which given my current existence is a feat in itself. Odds are, by the time you read this, I’ll be beyond help and comprehension. What little is left of me is being drained a spurt at a time and retaining the Marc you knew is…holding the ocean back would be easier.

I hope this is coherent, I’ve been sneaking paragraphs whenever they’re full and distracted and while my mind is clear. It helps that it’s Christmas again. The music helps me . I’m averaging 6 sentences a day now. Last week, it was 8. I know time is running out for my upper half so I need to lay out the whole tale as best I can. I hope you can make sense of it.

I can still the glow of the Christmas lights on the Darbanvilles’ lawn. I’d had to park down the street because our neighbours were throwing a holiday party and there were no open spots in front of our house. I was home later than I’d planned because I’d had to re-submit blueprints for my architecture final. You how my dad was about following his dreams? Well, now I was stuck following them, and I wasn’t living up to the hype. Not that I cared too much. Y’know that feeling of reaching for something important, but it keeps slipping out of your fingers? And the harder you try, the further it moves from you? ‘Boats against the current’ and all that? I never understood why Dad was so angry those last weeks of his life.

Now I understand better than I’d ever wanted to, but at the time, I was stuck pursuing a degree in a major that didn’t interest me, to fulfil a promise to a man long past being able to care. That’s why I half-assed it the first time and only two-thirds-assed it the second. But I had a date planned tonight so I needed to get home and no exterior design was going to stop me. Except the Darbanvilles’.

As I slinked across their lawn—slipping between the illuminated reindeer and newly formed family of snow people—I reflected that I was 80 percent sure tonight was going to go.

I think you met Pepper once. She was the redhead with the grey eyes that I met at the campus c-store. She wasn’t a student yet. I found out later she was working the store to chat with students and sorta research what studies she might pursue. She was deliberate like that. Anyway, I was a regular 2am customer and somewhere between the hot pockets and the pringles, I’d asked her out and we’d fucked in the storeroom—apparently I wasn’t the only one hoping I’d make a move.

That was last September and while we’d had several good months—and a few great ones—as the green left the leaves this autumn, I couldn’t shake a feeling our ion was fading with it. Of course, most of this was my fault. Between classes, my dead dad’s expectations, and my ever-growing fear of failure, I’d been too in my head to be a competent lover. Talk about the motion of the ocean all you like, if the oars are floppy, you’re not leaving the dock. That’s my favourite metaphor from the plethora I’d come up with while I tried to distract myself from the fact that I was dysfunctioning at 22. Fuck all my other troubles; it seemed every free moment, I’d catch myself ruminating on how massively hard it was to not be massively hard.

My feet crunched in the deeper snow between the Darbanvilles’ and Jake St. Farmer’s houses. Pepper was coming over tonight—it was our last opportunity before Christmas given the family’s strict No Dates On Christmas Eve/Christmas rule—and I was 85 percent sure she was going to break up with me. I kept replaying our last text messages in my head; doing all I could to hear them in a less-crunchy tone. The snow wasn’t helping.

[what time should I come over? ]

[like half past 8? I think tori is at her boyfriend’s place and april said she could get nic out of the house for a bit. depends how much decorating yet to be done. I can let you know when I get there.]

[sounds good ;) can’t wait to talk with you, baby]

That last message had wound itself around my brain. If she’d just put the ;) at the end, I wouldn’t have worried, but she put it in the middle. For someone who put next to no thought into my building designs, I spent way too much time agonizing over her message construction. I even wondered if I should have mentioned my sister’s boyfriend since I was 90 percent sure I wasn’t going to be one by the end of the night. At least when Santa brings coal, he just leaves it in your stocking as opposed to your heart.

St. Farmer’s house was mostly dark—only a porchlight and lit upper window cast any light across the untouched snow. I would have guessed he was out of town if it weren’t for the one decoration he had put up over the front door. The one decoration I would give whatever is left of me to not have noticed.

It was mistletoe. A robust little bundle of thick green leaves and small white berries tied up and hung with a white bow. Kinda scraggly at first glance, but surprisingly soft-looking once you got closer to it. The leaves were almost velvety against my skin as I touched it—realising a second later that I was suddenly standing on Jake’s front porch. I don’t know if I didn’t at the time, but as I try to picture that moment now, all I can see is myself standing under that unassuming little plant making the decision that would change my life for the worst.

I stole it. It took less than 5 seconds and I was already crossing the snow to the holiday-lit front of my own home. I can’t recall all the rationalisations I had for taking it, other than if Pepper did break up with me—which I was 95 percent sure she would—I’d at least get one more kiss. The bundle was light in my hands with a little shimmer whenever the twinkling lights caught it. Poking out from near the bow was a small lavender tag. I popped it off and slipped it into my back pocket, I didn’t need my sisters questioning where I’d picked it up.

I knocked my little “code knock” on my front door and heard an excited squeal from inside, followed immediately by a “are you making fun of me?” in my sister’s voice. The sound of the deadbolt opening muffled my aunt’s reply, but from the first glimpse at her sly face and my sister’s pouty scowl in the background, I could tell sarcasm had been involved. However, all insincerity disappeared the moment my aunt embraced me and welcomed me home like only family can.

Aunt April was in her late 30s at that time. She’d become our legal guardian after Ma and Dad’s ing and even though, after Nicolette’s birthday last month, we were all legally adults, she’d chosen to stick around and keep the family together. Lately I’d been wondering how much of this was born out of a genuine enthusiasm for us and how much was for lack of a better idea, but I was too much of a coward to ask. Right now, I was just happy to be hugged at Christmas.

In a hug you can let it all go. My inferiority, my impotence, my 97 percent certainty that I was ending the night single. Looking back to being lost in that hug, I think it was the last time I really felt the Christmas spirit. But before I could really engage with the moment, it was ing as Aunt April broke the hug and stepped back to look me over.

“Alright, what’s the bother?” she asked with a serious face, and sparkling eyes. “Your mother used to get the same look when she couldn’t work through a thing. C’mon, spill the jelly beans.”

I don’t if I laughed or sighed or some hybrid of the two. I met her eyes and the truth was halfway up my throat when;

“Don’t rush him, Auntie. He’s been looking forward to this interrogation the whole way home.” Nicolette was nudging our aunt to the side so she could rescue me with a hug of her own. My sister, Nicolette was the elemental form of the perfect woman. Right about everything three quarters of the time, she was witty and headstrong with an unmatched emotional intuition. Whatever she chose to do with her life, she’d take no prisoners—and she’d look damn good doing it. At 18, everything about her looks just barely didn’t fit. The brond hair was a little too mussed, the cheeks a little too pouty, the curves a little too smooth. Everything just a year or two away from perfection. Except her eyes. My baby sister’s amber eyes—currently looking me over from under a lock of blond-ish hair—were the kind that you could stare at all year and still not feel like you’ve seen all their secrets. But she’s also the kind of person who’d slap you to win a staring contest, so good luck getting even a minute-long glance. “How ya been, Plato?” she teased with a smirk—reminding me of that one night lapse when I confessed what I’d rather be studying.

“Eh, brain still works at least,” I said cheekily dodging the question.

“It fucken better.” My little sister wrapped a confident arm around my waist. “I need you by my side when I conquer the world.”

“You just spent 15 minutes explaining to me why you wanted to skip college and be a housewife.” Aunt April said with an eye roll.

“I didn’t say anything about the size of the world I want conquered. I can be queen of a 2,700 square foot world.” Nicolette was famously unflappable. “And another thing, I—Ouch! What is that?”

I’d tried to pick her up in a hug, forgetting that my left hand had a bundle of spiky plant in it. I put her down and held up the mistletoe I’d snatched from St. Farmer. Nicolette gave a squeal.

“You ed!” She grabbed the mistletoe from me and held it up to the light. I shot and perplexed squint at my aunt who rolled her eyes again with a shrug. Nicolette, holding the mistletoe aloft, had marched to a place a few steps in from the door. “I was standing right here, in this very spot exactly eleven months ago when I said ‘it’s a shame we’ve never had mistletoe as part of the Christmas decorations.’ I should have known I could count on my big brother to .”

I glanced again at my aunt who responded with a she-forgot-to-get-you-a-present face and then smiled. It suddenly occurred to me that I was smiling back and couldn’t when I’d started. You really couldn’t quantify the family connection. At least not then.

I can now. It’s about 5 tablespoons.

“I’m going to hang it right here and we’ll keep it up until New Year’s!” declared Nicolette—rushing from the room to get a hammer and nail. Aunt April and I both let out sighs that were give or take 20 percent relief.

“Sooooo, who in this house are you planning on kissing?” Aunt April grinned at me.

“No one who lives here.” I replied, feeling the smile leave my face as Pepper returned to my thoughts.

“Oh right! I’m supposed to be getting Nic out of the house for you, aren’t I?”

It was a rhetorical question, more than a little of me hoped she’d give me an excuse to cancel the date. Aunt April caught my pause.

“Everything ok with you two?”

“My heart says we’re fine, but my brain is having trouble believing it.” Contrary to my listless tone, Auntie laughed.

“You’re Leon’s son alright. That’s exactly the kind of thing he’d say.” My smile was back. I don’t know how she did it. “Of course, your dad would probably throw in something about his ahem lower brain’s thoughts on the matter as well,” she giggled just like my father used to and I was seized by a sudden urge to hug her close again.

“Yeah, well…he…uh…down there… hasn’t had much to say on the subject,” I tried to hide behind a smile.

Aunt April’s blue eyes went wide as she saw the big picture more easily than any of my architecture classmates could ever hope to. “Oh Marc. Oh, my baby! Believe me, it’s completely normal. It happens to everyone. Really. And everyone gets over it sooner or later.”

“And what do their girlfriends do while they’re waiting for sooner or later?” I hadn’t planned on talking about this—let alone the minute I walked in the door. Aunt April had a way of getting the truth out of us. I don’t know if it’s because we thought we were cleverer than we were.

“Is that what you think is going to happen tonight?”

I shrugged and pretended “98 percent certainty.”

I didn’t her coming to hug me. I just feeling her arms around me and her soft kiss of encouragement on my cheek as I tried to blink through suddenly wet eyes.

“Hey you two! No kissing until the mistletoe is up!” Nicolette was back. She banged into the room with a hammer, nail, pliers, and plant in one hand, a kitchen chair in the other. My aunt stepped between us, helping her position the chair, and shielding me for the 5 seconds I needed to wipe my eyes.

“Well then get it up already. And then go get ready. we promised your brother he could have the house for a few hours.” I don’t know if Nicolette caught it, but I heard a slight baiting tone in Aunt April’s voice that made me wonder if she was hoping Nicolette would refuse and force me to hang out with family tonight.

Nicolette gasped overdramatically and looked from the newly hung mistletoe to me. “Oohhhhhh, I see how it is,” she stepped off the chair and advanced on me. “You didn’t get this mistletoe because you ed me wanting it, you got it so it would give you an excuse to French kiss your sexy girlfriend,” she was right up on me now and I was having trouble making eye . Suddenly her demeanour broke and she flung her arms around me. “Well, you better have a good time!!!”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed and hugged her back. “You’re the best.” I said it to her, but my eyes were watching my aunt. They both got the message.

“Come on, Nicolette. Put this chair away and get your long jacket with all the pockets. I’ll grab the snacks and sodas.”

They both bustled from the room, leaving me alone with the mildly moving mistletoe and my wildly whirling worries.

Twenty minutes later, I’d changed into sexier (read: less sweaty from traveling) clothes, my suitcase was in my room, Nicolette had chosen a restaurant, Aunt April had chosen a movie, they’d loaded their pockets with secret candies, and were on their way out the door—leaving me alone in the living room to splash a last coat of confidence on my insecurities.

The least productive 10 minutes later, Pepper knocked on the front door.

She was bundled up in a pea coat with a high collar, faded jeans, and fuzzy boots. As she unbuttoned the coat and shook off the cold, I saw she was wearing her favourite vintage Motley Crue t-shirt. She liked to tailor her own clothes and this shirt was perfectly fitted to her firm belly and big-enough-to-bounce tits. Her long red hair was tied in a French braid and draped over her shoulder. I caught her eye and we shared a small smile. She had the kind of eyes that held you hostage. And maybe I was imagining it tonight, but as I let her into the house, the usual captivation shrank down to just captive.

“Hey you.”

“Hey.” Her eyes scanned the room, checking to see if we were alone. “House to ourselves?”

There was a determination in her eye that, for a brief second after I nodded in reply, gave me hope for a Christmas miracle. Then she spoke.

“Good, because there’s something we need to talk about.”

99 percent.

I tried to look casual. As if I wasn’t worried. As if I didn’t know exactly the words that were about to come out of her mouth. I leaned against the back of the sofa. I hoped I looked at ease as opposed to on crutches. “Sure, Baby. What’s up?” This was a mistake.

“Marc, you’re not an idiot. We both know what you’ve been dealing with lately.”

I bit my lip. “Can you be specific?” I mumbled sheepishly, trying to figure out how terminal her diagnosis was.

“Baby, I wish I could. But it’s just all across the board. You need to get yourself sorted out. Emotionally, academically. Physically.”

So there it was. “Pep, I know things have, y’know, been rough lately, but believe me, I’m going to get it figured out. We don’t have to throw out what we have, do we?” I added puppy dog eyes for good measure.

Pepper was toying with the end of her long red braid. I knew what it meant, but still couldn’t ignore how cute she was. “Marc, I’ll be honest, I don’t know what we even have right now.” She didn’t look at me until the last word. Like a chess player who won’t look at her opponent until she knows they’re in checkmate. “Everything you promised being with you would be like has stopped. You can’t focus on your studies, you can’t get out of your head, you can’t have sex. I just don’t know what else to do.”

It’s a fucked up truth that people look their hottest when they’re breaking up with you. Something about your brain trying to hold onto what you’re losing, but suddenly I couldn’t get the feel of Pepper’s tits, the taste of her kiss, the squeeze of her pussy out of my head. Unable to look in her eyes, I let my gaze drop to the floor—unavoidably they swept over her and my bodies—with the notable exception of one part; as I basked bitterly in all the beauty I’d never feel again. I think I mumbled an “I’m sorry.” Time felt like it had stopped.

The pause wasn’t in my head. When I finally looked back at her face, I met an incredulous glare. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” I tried to smile. I tried to find a way to say communicate something that would live up to the person those grey eyes could be with. But I couldn’t get there.

Again.

Pepper blinked and I knew it was over. I didn’t need to hear the pitying tone or the “goodbye, Marc”, or the squeak of her boots as she turned away to confirm it. A red 100% was flashing across my brain. So that was it. Except for her heavy sigh when she reached the door.

I don’t know why that set me off. I don’t know how I did it, but suddenly I was stepping after her and words were forming in my mouth. “No. That’s not it.”

She stopped. I didn’t wait for her to turn. I didn’t know if I’d be able to look at her and talk at the same time. For the first time in weeks, I fully let loose. “You mean everything to me, Pep. I know I’ve been a ball of nerves but when I want to give up and not bother, thinking about you is what gets me out of it. I melt when you look at me. My heart skips when you hug me. I could kiss you for the rest of time and still feel like it’s not enough. If I can’t be enough for you right now…that’s whatever, but I can’t let you leave without telling you what it means to be with you. I don’t know if I can say I love you, and I don’t know if you even want me to, but I really really really really like you, Pepper Hawthorne and if you stick with me, I’ll make you happy you did for as long as humanly possible.” Most of that came out in one breath. I had to stop and fill my lungs. When I looked up, Pepper’s eyes glistened with tears and she was walking back towards me. “So uh, yeah. I just wanted to say that.”

She was in front of me. Her hand was on my cheek—the first time we’d touched tonight. “Is that true, Marc. Did you mean all that?”

“I…uh…” I couldn’t look in those eyes and say it at the same time. I let my sight drift up and around as a soft “yeah” escaped my lips. I was looking at nothing in particular. But Pepper followed my gaze and found something.

“Mistletoe!” she purred with a smile that lit at least a third of the room. I’d completely forgotten about the little bundle hanging directly above us. “Was than your plan? Make a big speech then kiss me, and hope that makes everything better?”

“I mean, couldn’t hurt to try right?” I shrugged. It was easier to talk with her rather than at her. I felt more at ease. Like I was momentarily the version of myself I truly wanted to be. Come to think about it, that might have been the last time I felt that way.

Pepper let her smile widen and for a moment, she was again that vibrant girl I’d first spotted through the racks of ramen and funyuns. She leaned in towards me but stopped herself abruptly a few inches from my face.

“Look, I’m not saying this means everything’s fixed or whatever. You still have a lot to work on, right?”

I gave as small a nod as I could while still swimming in her eyes.

“Ok, now that that’s settled.” and she grabbed my face and kissed me.

It blasted through me. At the time, I didn’t know what was happening—I just thought it was the ion of the moment washing over us. What I knew was, less than a second into the kiss, we were both hit with a force that—if physical—would have thrown us through the wall.

I had never known ion like this—even now I don’t’ think I’ve ever felt anything close. It was as if a warm electric current was spreading from our kiss down through my body. I could feel each molecule of the air around me, could taste every pulse of Pepper’s lips. Without knowing who decided it, we were suddenly in each other’s arms. Each touch setting off new lightning strikes; the bolts crisscrossing each other as they rushed through our bodies, all headed the same place.

I felt what was happening without having to notice it. After weeks of half-masts and short-lived lovemaking, I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have my dick rising to its full size. Suddenly I was straining against my pants as an insatiable need ignited in my cock. And by the moans and movements of Pepper’s hips, I wasn’t the only one in urgent need. We broke our kiss just long enough to confirm with our eyes what we both had to do, then we were back at it—locked at the lips, touching each other in as many ways as we could.

My pants were off before I knew what was happening. I didn’t even know which of us did it. Papper’s shirt was up and her perfectly perky tits were straining to escape their b-cup prison. I pulled them free at the same time that Pepper managed to get her hands on my briefs and send them to my knees.

“Oh fuck, Marc.” She half-moaned, half-begged as her little hand wrapped around my cock—a cock that felt thicker than I ed. “I forgot how fucking nice your cock is.” I didn’t have to ask her intentions. With those words, I suddenly saw in front of me exactly how this night was going to go. I could see Pepper’s pussy wrapped around my cock from every angle. I could hear her moans, cries, words, and screams all at once like a fucktastic symphony. I could feel the fabric of the couch on my knees and at the same time, I felt the leather of her car’s backseat on my back. I could feel my balls churning—already preparing all the massive loads I was going to pump into her tonight. And as I embraced it all and the need took me, I felt my hands expertly undoing and pulling her jeans and panties down her legs.

Last time we’d fucked, her pussy’d had a cute little red bush adorning it, now it was perfectly bald and her lips were more swollen than I’d ever felt before. I touched her clit and she shuddered and broke our kiss just long enough to moan the words that, despite everything, still make me hard to this day.

“I can already feel you in me. Please make it real.” Her pussy punctuated the plea by gushing more of her warm juices over my fingers and down her legs. We couldn’t resist a nanosecond longer.

Spinning her, I wrapped my arms around her from behind, pressing her against the back of the sectional and pressing the pre-cum-soaked mushroom head of my cock between her needy lips. My shirt was still on, our pants were around our ankles, her tits bounced unceremoniously between her pulled-up tee and pulled-down bra, the front door was still open, my aunt & sister would be back at some point, and my life was still in shambles. But that Christmas eve’s eve, all that mattered was that I sank deep into my horny girlfriend in a single thrust and we both felt our worlds explode.

Within seconds, I was fucking her hard against the back of the couch. Her pussy lips gripping my cock like they never had before. Her cream covering the length, my head perfectly massaging her g-spot every time I sank back into her. We didn’t need to speak—I could feel everything she wanted to say. But that didn’t stop her from screaming it.

“Oh fuck. Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

“You feel so fucking good, Pep!”

“Please never stop fucking me!”

“I don’t ever want to.”

“Fuck, I’m coming again. Don’t stop! Make it last!”

I could feel my cock throbbing harder with each thrust into her welcoming pussy. The lightning bolts now flowing freely through us as I mounted her against the back of the family room sofa. Sex had never felt this good. Nothing had ever felt this good. I couldn’t explain it at the time, but with each thrust, I seemed to slide in easier and she seemed to grip me tighter. In the tiniest shadowed corner of my mind, I understood. My cock was subtly changing shape. And I knew without having to say anything that Pepper’s pussy was reshaping itself in the same way. With every stroke into her soft, tight cunt, we were becoming sexually perfect for each other. I couldn’t imagine anything ever going wrong.

We were beyond language. I heard our words, but had no idea who said which ones.

“I need you.”

“You can have me anytime!”

“This is the best sex ever!”

“Oh god!”

“You’re perfect.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!

“This is just what I needed”

“Fuck!”

“Cum for me.”

“In you?”

“In me.”

I actually felt her pussy stretching around my cock as I erupted into Pepper’s cunt. My balls were pulsing against her clit making more cum as fast as I could spew it out. I know it was impossible, but in that moment, I really felt like I was going to literally fill her up. And it wasn’t until my orgasm was almost through that I realised I’d been panting like an angry buffalo.

Pepper shuddered in my arms. Though neither of us wanted to move, we were both aware that the back of the couch wasn’t the most comfortable thing to be bent over. Running my hands along her back, I guided her up and spun her back around to face me. As if she’d been planning it, her hand landed perfectly on my drenched cock and she immediately started stroking it—not that I needed the help. I was hard as stone.

Pepper and I made eye for the smallest of moments. There was a shimmering truth in her grey gaze that made me feel like we’d momentarily reduced the world’s population to just her and me. But then I glanced down at her nipples and she squeezed my cock and we were overwhelmed once more by a need to share each other.

I vividly the feel of her nipple against my tongue. Her splendid tits, while they didn’t feel bigger per se, definitely felt perkier and fuller than I ed. Just like how if we measured my cock it would still be its average self, but in this moment, in this girl’s hand, it was the perfect size and shape to give her everything.

I switched nipples and techniques—making Pepper moan in a slightly new way as my tongue travelled up her chest, over her shirt, across her collarbone, to her neck—which she obligingly tilted up while still expertly lubing up my cock with the cocktail of us from moments ago.

She was moaning up at the ceiling as I kissed and licked my way around her throat. I didn’t know what she was looking at until she whispered between groans, “was it the mistletoe that did this to us?”

I paused mid-kiss and straightened up to face her. “I don’t know how it could but I Oh God!” She had started twisting her hand as she played with my shaft. “If it did, there’s only one way to be sure.”

Her eyes became alight with deviance and I knew from her smile, she could see the same idea reflected back at her from my eyes. “Well?” I asked, “you gonna do it?”

“I kissed you last time. Now it’s your turn.” She was rubbing her thumb across the tip.

My cock communicated my answer just under 6 inches faster than my lips did as I stepped right up against her, let my fingers slide perfectly between her already-soaked-but-getting-wetter pussy lips, and touched my mouth to hers.

She was in my arms. She was on her knees. We were on the couch. She was on her back. I was carrying her. My cock was in her throat. I was pumping into her pussy as she rode me. I experienced it all at once. What I now know to be 3 hours of almost nonstop fucking felt as long as a semester and simultaneously as short as a blink.

Her tongue licked the side of my member, cleaning up the cream that I couldn’t precisely when it’d got there. I was stroking her hair—which was sticky from at least one orgasm I’d pumped over her face. We were on the couch. I was laying the wrong way along the cushions while Pepper—so full of firm words earlier in the evening was filling her mouth with a different kind of firmness while a torrent of our combined juices poured from her gaping pussy onto the loveseat.

Looking up, my head tilted back, I could see the mistletoe swinging gently on its hook. In that moment, I thought I imagined it, but I could almost swear it looked bigger than it had before. But then my girlfriend’s tongue slid over my balls in a way that almost made them vibrate and I was lost again in my lust for her. Pepper didn’t stop. She kept licking my sack, making the vibrations all the stronger. I had no idea how she was doing it, but tonight, looking at the dancing mistletoe; I’d believe we were capable of anything.

I felt her lips close on my tip again and moaned as what felt like an orgasm-sized load of pre-cum landed on her tongue. The vibrations on my balls didn’t stop.

It took her deep-throating my shaft 3 times before I noticed something was off. It took another 2 to convince her to pause for a second. Kissing her sweet and salty lips, I guided her hand to her well-used pussy and turned my attention to the couch. It didn’t take me long to find the source.

I fished my phone from between the cushions just in time to feel the vibrations stop and see my aunt’s picture disappear from the screen. Pepper caught the guilty look on my face before I even knew I was doing it.

“Do I have time to fuck you again?” she asked—somehow managing to speak, smile, and lick her lips at the same time. I made the mistake of looking up at her. She was leaning back on her elbows, her legs spread open, her thighs glistening with all the cum she’d been busily rubbing on herself, and her pussy visibly pulsing as she invited me back into her.

I was halfway to her when the phone vibrated again in my hand. Holding my phone up so I could look at it and Pepper at the same time, I unlocked the screen and found Aunt April’s text.

[Movie (blehhh) just ended! Hope you’re not answering because things are going well. Nic and I will be home in 10 minutes. Tell me if you need me to drive extra slow.]

“Well?”

“We have 10 minutes.”

Pepper suddenly whipped out her store manager voice. “Give me your phone. You get this room cleaned up and get dressed,” she finished it off with a wink, “just, y’know, not too dressed.”

I dashed off to find paper towels and febreze while Pepper lay back on the couch, her fingers flying over the phone.

It wasn’t until we were in the back seat of her car a couple doors down and she was bouncing to her third orgasm on my nearly constantly cumming cock that I thought to check what she’d sent.

[all good. we ended up going out to dinner anyway. had a long talk. i’ll be home late. don’t wait up for me. i think things are going to work out really well.]

I turned the phone screen around to face her. The light from it caught the swell of her tits and the shine of sweat on her skin. “Did you mean this?” I didn’t get an answer for a few seconds as Pepper was cresting another climax and incapable of speech. Every time she came, it felt like she was gripping me just a little bit tighter. Fuck, that night was perfect. When she’d recovered enough to form words:

“Nah. That was just more of an understatement, really. What I wanted to say was ‘if your nephew keeps doing this to me, I’ll be his wife before he graduates”

At this point, getting harder would have broken a law of the universe, so instead, I grabbed her tight in my arms, rolled her onto her back and started pounding away at her pussy like I hadn’t believed myself capable of before this moment.

“Oh my god, Marc!”

“Fuck, Pep, take it!”

“Yes! Yes! Give it to me. Never stop. Fuck! Your cock is so perfect! Let’s fuck each other forever. Yes yes yes!!!.”

I let out a growl and lifted her legs over my shoulders so I could get deeper.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck me! Right now! God, I never thought I’d have sex this good. Don’t stop. Use me. Be mine. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh.”

Her final moan wasn’t a solo. We let our voices entwine the way our bodies had as we both gave each other one more massive orgasm before collapsing into each other’s waiting arms. We were covered in sweat, hearts racing, breathing so hard we could barely catch up. But when the moment came—and it is truly remarkable how in sync we were—we started breathing normally one second and before another could , we were back to kissing like oxygen didn’t matter.

It wasn’t until Aunt April’s car was back in the driveway and cold that we finally stopped and just cuddled. Pepper—still sitting on my lap, leaning on top of me, her adorably cum-stained face nestled into my neck—finally broke the silence.

“ when I said you still had a lot to work on? I’m retracting that. Stay exactly the way you are.” We both grinned at the double meaning as she flexed her cream-filled pussy around my hardening cock.

“Inside you, you mean?”

She tried to look offended, but didn’t manage to hide the fresh wetness that was coating her pussy. I knew how she felt. Our connection was deeper than just the physical and—I was surprised how easy it was to it to myself—I knew she was perfect for me too.

Now I wish I could unknow it.

It was far past 1:30am when I finally crossed the street back to the house. The freshly fallen snow had filled in almost all man-made prints and for a moment, I had this Christmas-lit world all to myself. It’s kinda fucked to say, but in that moment, I understood what all those Christmas hymns were singing about.

Just like the inside—and most of the outside—of Pepper, I was coated in white when I stepped back through the front door. The house was quiet save for a few little ticks and taps—like it was practicing for Christmas Eve the following night. I locked the door as silently as I could, cast one long iring look at the room Pepper and I had violated, the creases in the cushions left by her tits and ass, and the little plant that had started it all, before slipping off my jacket and shoes and heading up to bed.

At least that was the plan.

“You missed a spot.”

I nearly fell into the wall as the head and shoulders of my little sister popped over the back of the couch. She had her phone in her hand—which explained the tapping sounds—and had a sleepy, but devious grin on her little face.

“What are you talking about?” I smiled more casually that I’d have been capable of 5 hours ago. It didn’t work.

“Well unless someone else’s girlfriend left their cum-stained panties in this cup holder.” She pulled Pepper’s somehow-still-wet underwear from her pocket and twirled them around her finger. I blushed. She smiled lovingly. “I’m glad it went well.”

“Me too.” The love in her eyes broke through. I let the relief and freedom wash over me. I knew I looked like a mess. I knew I smelled like sex. I knew I was smiling like an idiot. And I knew Nicolette was seeing every detail. But none of it mattered. For that moment, I really let myself feel alive.

“You good?” My sister’s amber eyes hadn’t left my face.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Tired though. I’m gonna,” I gestured up towards the stairs and took a couple steps.

“Um…excuse me?” I looked back to find a slightly indignant look on Nicolette’s face.

“Yes?”

She crooked the finger dangling Pepper’s panties at me and summoned me back. “Firstly take these back. I don’t want them, and it seems like you earned ’em.” She held out the underwear and I took them. “And secondly, you haven’t given me my Christmas kiss yet.”

My breath caught in my throat as she looked meaningfully up at the mistletoe.

I managed a shabby “Nic, come on. I…” before she’d taken hold of my wrist, pulled me toward her and planted a quick adorable peck on my lips.

A shiver ran through me as I waited for the blow. But nothing came. Yes, I noticed the textured softness of her lips and the svelte curves of her body and the way the Christmas lights gilded her hair and the almost imperceptible moan made by one or the other of us. But then the moment was ed and she was hopping down from the couch.

“See? That wasn’t so bad. Now it’s really Christmastime.” Her peppiness and my gratefulness that the mistletoe hadn’t worked a second time made it impossible not to return her smile. She skipped around me and just as I was planning how to take that silly plant down and wondering how curious it was that it didn’t work on family , I felt someone behind me.

I turned. I shouldn’t have. I should have taken 5 big steps away first. Maybe that would have saved me. But I didn’t and when I turned to face my baby sister, we were only inches apart. She was breathing a little hard and when she spoke, her words rushed from her.

“Marc, I don’t know why, but I have to” and that was as far as she got before her lips were on mine again.

This time it happened. Honestly I think I felt it more strongly than I had with Pepper. Every glorious inch of my sister’s body raced through my mind. I knew everywhere she’d been touched, everywhere she wanted to be touched, and everywhere she didn’t yet know she needed to be touched. I could almost feel our familial love evolving. Not losing what it was, but growing ravenous additions. We were panting, grinding, moaning, throbbing. I was about to lost myself in her completely.

Someone closed the bathroom door upstairs and the surprise broke me and my sister apart. For a moment we just stared at each other, still feeling the effects of our newfound lust blossoming within our bodies.

“Marc.” It was a half warning, half plea.

“Nic?”

“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” She was controlling her voice, being specific about every word. “Take that plant down.” Carefully she touched my hand as if to reassure me. There was something soft and cool in my palm.

“And bring it with you when you sneak to my room in an hour.”

I caught myself nodding before I’d even processed what she’d said. Before I’d even processed the soaked pair of her own cute little panties she’d put in my hand. But if I’d taken the time to realise, I would only have nodded more vigorously. I was lost.

My delicious, talented, beautiful, soon-to-be-fucked-senseless little sister smiled like a kid at Christmas and slipped out of the room.

Twenty deep breaths and a kitchen chair later, the mistletoe was in my hand and I was headed upstairs to prepare for Nicolette. Not a shower. I still reeked of Pepper’s pussy, but somehow I knew Nicolette would love tasting her on me.

As I adjusted my still-fuller-than-usual pants, my hand slipped into my back pocket. Something brushed my fingertip and I pulled it out. It was the lavender tag from the mistletoe. “American Mistletoe by Santalales Botanicals”.

With a smile I would come to regret, I took a final long look at the innocuous little plant that had saved my relationship and would ruin my life.