Page 27 of Love is Strange
“Oh my God, Graham. You’re about to make me come. Why does that feel so good?” I turn around and look at him.
“If you think that feels good, then you’ll love what comes next.”
Still stroking my cock underneath of me, Graham takes his finger and holds it up under his mouth. He spits and drizzles it all over his finger, twirling it around as he does so. Once his finger is completely covered, he spits again, brings it to my opening and rubs gently. Every few circles, he pushes in a little bit. He gets further each time. I am stunned at how amazing this feels.
“You’re twitching,” he says. “You like this.”
“I can’t believe it but, yeah. It feels so fucking good.
He spits on my hole again and works another finger in.
“Fuck, I don’t know if I can take much more,” I moan. The stretching is beginning to hurt a little.
“Okay. I’ll hold it here for a few minutes to let you adjust.” As I nod, he takes my cock in his hand and begins to stroke it again. The longer he does it, the less pain I feel from behind. The sensation allows my body to relax enough for him to put a third finger in.
“Shiiit…” I whimper.
Once again, he strokes my cock and lets my hole adjust.
“I think it’s safe to move a little, now.”
He begins moving his fingers slowly in and out. I take my cock from him and resume the stroking. He moves his other hand to my balls and begins to massage them. The back and forth of his fingers gets a little faster. A little faster, again. Even faster still.
“Ahhh… I’m going to come, Graham. Fuckkk…”
Graham pulls his fingers out of me. He reaches around the front and grabs my dick again.
“You’re going to need both arms in a second.”
“Why?” I ask as he pushes in from behind and I crumble down onto to the mattress.
“To hold yourself up,” Graham says after the fact, laughing.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh FUCK. The stretching, it both hurts and feels so good at the same time. I don’t know if I am screaming from the pain or the pleasure but, in this moment, I don’t care.
In this moment, I am captured between lust and love, right and wrong, brother and lover. I don’t know which way is up, but I do know that I have never felt this much of a connection to anyone else.
“Graham, I’m so fucking close, man,” I gasp.
“Same here. Almost there!” he grunts.
“Graham…”
“Griffin…”
We’re pushed over the edge at the same time, but we catch each other. We fall to our side, Graham still inside of me. Both of us in a tired and sweaty heap. I am dazed and have spots dotting my vision.
A few minutes later, I lay waiting for the crushing guilt to show itself. For regret to rear its ugly head.
But then, when Graham puts his arm around me and kisses my shoulder, I know that my feelings of love will outweigh and overpower both of them. Guilt and regret don’t exist here any longer.
Siblings aren’t supposed to fall madly in love with one another. It’s wrong. It’s sinful. It goes against nature. But we're not like everyone else. We are twins who are madly in love with one another and we wouldn't change a damn thing.
LUST
Melancholia
CHLOE JANE
