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Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
All characters are 18 years or older.
This story is a continuation of the Font of Fertility series. I would suggest reading Chapter 1 if you have not already. This chapter includes anal and some minor elements of incest, public sex and first time.
Jeremiah dreams, has a run in with his sister Stacey and fucks Lauren... a lot...
FoF Chapter 2 underwent a new edition editing pass in January, 2022. Continuing thanks to Ante_Matter13 for his editing all those years ago.
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*** 1 - When the Morning Come ***
Trying to go to sleep after your evening jerk off session is interrupted by an obese fairy serving the magical powers of Fertility is not really an easy task. Suffice it to say, I wasn't exactly in
the mood
mentally any more, even if the rest of me was ready to go. There was way too much to think about.
Adama, the dirty-mouthed fairy, had left me with more questions than answers for the most part. My future, whatever it meant to sit as one of the Seat of Threes ruling council, had just become a much odder prospect than going off to college next fall. Of more immediate interest, though, was her explanation of my powers.
Anything I wanted, as long as I had enough juice in the tank. So far I'd cast two spells, one of them making my dick bigger and the other to kill off my sperm as soon as they exited my body. The first one was in the heat of the moment, the second one planned between me and Lauren.
Lauren.
Just thinking about her gave me those warm chills. Sure, that might be a cliche but it's just how it felt, knowing the girl I've been friends with for years, and had a crush on for most of that time, was finally
my
girl. Forget all the magic and her being my 'Prime,' yesterday would have been unforgettable without any of that.
I had had sex with Lauren! And that's what I went to sleep thinking about. Powers and spells and possibilities, but most of all, sex.
I dreamed, which wasn't uncommon. I usually wake up in the morning remembering vivid events and scenes, sometimes slamming the snooze button to try and catch a last few moments of something delicious before I lose the sensation. This dream was different though, it wasn't so much the false experiences of my sleeping brain, it was deeper, full of urge and desire and most of all a sense of hollowness. Something was missing in me.
It's not a surprise that the dream had to do with sex, considering my last day had been consumed by the subject. It started out in one of those odd circumstances only your brain can rationalize, not in a porno bad acting kind of way, but in that 'this makes no sense but is perfectly natural' way of dreams. It slowly solidified, my body remembering the warmth of coupling, the closeness and the tactile sensations. Skin on skin, lying next to each other. The grazing touches on places usually left untouched, the feeling of lips and fingertips and knees and thighs. The feeling of a mouth on mine, a mouth on me.
The girl in my dreams changed as it went on, sometimes it was Lauren. Sometimes it was someone else. Lindsey, Lauren's strikingly sexy older sister. Girls from school, some of them friends, others less than. My English teacher, Mrs. Morrison.. Stacy.
My sister was in there, and started to become the focal point of the whole swirling dream. Her heart shaped face, smiling warmly down at me, eyes flashing like they did when she was teasing me about one thing or another. Her taut stomach, a visible six-pack of abs brushing against my body. Her warm, humming chuckle when she was too comfortable to laugh outright; almost a purr deep in her chest. Then she was gone, replaced again by Lauren.
It's funny, what you dream about compared to what you think of when you're jerking off. Boobs and butts take a backseat, instead it was the way her lips looked when she licked them lightly then bit her lower lip. It was the arch of her back as I entered her from behind, the muscles twisting under her skin and her shoulder blades moving in time with our thrusts. It was the smell of her hair as I lay beside her, and the feel of her tight thighs as I held on to her.
Lauren drifted through my unconsciousness and instead of her I was kissing Mrs. Morrison, her heaving breasts pressing against my chest as she pulled me towards her. Her full lips pressed into mine and I could feel the tension in her, the dangerous adrenaline of doing something illicit. Her hand trailed down my body and slipped between my legs, but then she was gone and I was being held from behind. I looked down at the hands and I recognized the little heart shaped tattoo at the crux of thumb and forefinger just before her breath came hot and heavy on my neck.
Angela, a girl who had graduated from our high school two years ago. She'd been a tease back then in school, and still was down at the mall where she worked retail. She wore her skirts tight enough to see her panty lines and her blouses sheer enough to see bright red bras underneath. She kissed my ear and I reached around behind me, my hand slipping up her bare side and then back down to her hip and thigh. She sighed heavily and flicked her tongue in my ear, letting out a little moan that drifted into nothingness as she faded just as her hand crept down my torso.
It kept going, thoughts and figments drifting through my head as one woman after another from my spank bank emptied into my dreams. Dozens of them holding me, caressing me, whispering sweet words through my thoughts. Sometimes they even moaned my name as if I were inside them, fulfilling them like they couldn't believe. Several times they even sounded surprised, as if the thought that it was me shocked them. Every time I was about to be touched though, possibly given some relief as a hand or mouth moved towards my groin, they faded away into the haze around us to be replaced.
My body was shaking, needing some sort of relief, but all I received were teasing sounds, glimpses of flesh, and light caresses. Finally I had had enough, and as the next body wrapped around me, holding me from behind as if we were laying on our sides, I took hold of the arm beneath me firmly and turned, pressing my mouth to hers before she could react. She kissed me back forcefully, her teeth nipping at my lip as my hands searched her lean body, roughly pawing hip and breast and ass. I was on top of her now, her legs wrapped around me as I continued to shove my tongue down her throat. I wanted relief, needed it horribly, and I began to take it by guiding my cock into her. Beautiful relief swept over me; I was inside of her, no more games or chasing, rooted fully.
The humming chuckle deep in her throat, as if she was immensely pleased with everything in the world, made me break our breathless, endless kiss and realize the face before me, the body under me. Stacy was looking at me, her eyes hooded and her mouth agape as she moaned from our coupling.
My mind reeled, unable to comprehend. This wasn't supposed to be happening, this was wrong. I needed to stop, this had to stop. I jerked away and she groaned beneath me. She reached out, trying to grab a hold of me, pull me back to her, but this time I was the one to flit away into the haze. I was running, if you could call it that, fleeing what I couldn't handle. Wouldn't handle. I finally slowed when I heard laughter echoing through me, the warm, low laugh that felt like home and warmth. As if I stepped through a doorway or a window, I found her lying there, limbs akimbo and the sheets of a bed spread around roughly. There was another person in the bed, blonde and long haired, but I ignored it as I pressed myself into Lauren's body and hugged her to me. She laughed again, then pulled me to her and our bodies were so close I could feel ourselves becoming one. She kissed me, and kissed me again more firmly when I didn't respond immediately. I kissed her back and she groaned into my mouth; I was inside her, my cock splitting her open as she rode me, as I pressed down into her, as I devoured her from below and as I held her tightly to me and fucked her in every position imaginable. Release was swift but rewarding, relief flooding me and emptying me until I was full and spent and my sleep became undisturbed, buried deeper than my unconscious mind could reach.
I woke up without my alarm, which was uncommon in and of itself. I knew immediately something was wrong though because I was cold. Really cold.
And I was wet. What the hell was going on?
I groggily yawned and pulled myself up into a sitting position, but the feel of drenched sheets beneath me had me leaping out of bed almost immediately. My boxers, the only thing I had worn to bed, might as well have been a darker shade of blue, they were so wet, and my sheets were soaked from top to bottom. I was sweaty all over, which spoke to much of the moisture, but I couldn't ignore the fact that the majority of the wetness seemed to be concentrated midway along the bed. Had I pissed myself like an eight year old?
I leaned down and sniffed, but it didn't smell like piss. It smelt like-
"A wet fucking dream? Are you kidding me?"
I shook my head in wonder. I'd emptied my balls twice yesterday while having
real
sex, and somehow I still managed to have not only enough to spurt out during a sexy dream, but enough to soak my god damned bed? What the fuck?
Yawning again, I looked at the clock. It was almost an hour earlier than I usually woke up, but there was no way I was lying back down in the mess that was my bed. Shaking my head ruefully, I began stripping the sheets and came up with my reason I was doing laundry so early in the morning.
I wasn't feeling well last night and I sweat like crazy.
It was partially true, and made sense that I didn't want to sleep in my own stink, or let it dry into the sheets or the mattress. A little bit of air freshener and my room would be back to normal... ish. I was quiet going about my business, slipping down the stairs and into the basement where our laundry room was. I shoved the entire bundle in, along with a handful of socks I'd used as cumrags in the last week, then turned on the washing machine and made my way back upstairs. I could get dressed and figure out what the hell had been going on in my head last night, little bits and pieces of my dream sticking around past the second and a half I usually remembered them after waking up.
A nice shower would do me good, and I especially needed it the way I probably stank after what I'd done to myself, however unintentional. I yawned again and instead of heading to my room made a sharp right into the upstairs bathroom.
I probably wouldn't have even noticed until I bumped into her, I was so distracted, but my sister's shriek popped me out of my stupor. I blinked quickly three times, the scene burning into my mind. Stacey's face, eyes wide in shock, mouth hanging open from her yell of surprise.
