The Things You Mae Me Feel

Ellie half-turned in her sleep and extended an arm across the bed. Her crazy, erotic dream of her and Oliver doing it in front of all their family was rapidly losing power when her arm contacted the cold sheets in lieu of the warm, chiseled body of her lover. Oliver had been fucking her on the kitchen island, the way he had months ago, but now they had an audience.

Her brothers and parents were shrieking one moment before suddenly urging Oliver to thrust harder into his sister, which he did. Ellie whimpered every time her bro tapped her shaved mons as he fed her all of his length. He was so excited, shaping both of her jugs in his crass grip. Her mother was asking her how it felt, to have her son so deep inside her.

"So good," Ellie moaned in reply, drawing her knees to her bust and submitting all of her sex to him. "So fucking good, Mom..."

She was so open now, bursting with his fat member, when...

Ellie slowly opened her eyes, hating the feel of the satin bed sheets rubbing her fingers. Her insane dream went poof the second she visually verified her brother was gone. An inexplicable ache wrung her heart when she stared at his vacant side of the bed. Soon, a feeling of excruciating emptiness swathed around her soul. She felt so empty, everywhere.

She'd kept Oliver up till 4 with their closing forty-minute number, and she knew he most likely hadn't gone to sleep on account of her niece. He always left just before sunrise. She shook her head up the ceiling, anger filling her. She was angry with him for leaving, even though she knew she shouldn't be. She then became infuriated with herself for ever getting angry with him.

Ellie hated to admit it, but at times, she felt as if she were competing with her niece for his attention, for his love. She couldn't control the way she felt however. She needed him so badly, no less than his 4-year-old daughter. His absence now had such a dejecting impact on her that she couldn't even grasp. She teared up, her fingers finding her pussy and feeling how saturated she was within her cleft.

And empty. So empty, everywhere. She burst into tears, mewling so painfully. She never felt worse than she did now. She was sick and tired of letting him go every night, of pretending around people, of concealing and hiding. It had taken too much of her and still was, draining her, ripping her... she curled into a ball and wept and wept. Never had a guy had such absolute power over her.

Suddenly, her anguish dwindled and her heart was brightening. Shimmers of hope began challenging the darkness. Soon, it was a full-blown battle, and a volley of laughter drove it out of her heart and to never return. Eyes wet, she rolled onto her back and caressed her belly, her palm mounting the subtle swell before sloping down and back again. Yep, she was pregnant alright. Pregnant with Oliver's baby.

She grinned, her deep blue eyes drying. She still felt empty but not sad anymore. She was hopeful and excited. Oliver was moving in, and she would never part from him again, not even for a single night. He would soon be hers the way she'd been dreaming for months. She rolled onto her stomach and took a whiff from his side of the bed. The sheets were drenched in his masculinity. Ellie filled her lungs to the brim with him, basking in her brother's unique scent.

She reached for her phone, filled with joy all of a sudden. It wouldn't be raining today if the weather forecast were to be believed. Perfect. Oliver and Michela could move in with no complications. She lurched to her feet and checked herself in the mirror while stroking her fair hair back. She was a sexy pregnant woman, she had to confess.

And bursting with her brother's seed apparently as the reflection of his jizz oozed out of her down the curve of her inner thigh. She giggled before she scooped it up on her finger and sucked thoroughly. Scrumptious. She rushed to the bathroom for a quick shower before reuniting with Oliver at her parents'.

***

An hour past noon, Ellie furiously barged into her folks' place. She stormed into the kitchen and fetched a rolling pin from a convenient drawer. The chaos in the living room was so loud that her arrival had gone unnoticed. She'd easily heard the shouting from outside the house, and it was clear that her whole meddling family was putting pressure on Oliver.

Menacingly pacing to the living room, she could hear her twin growling, her mother threatening and then blackmailing, and even Dan changed his tune and was now blaming Oliver for everything. Ellie snickered inwardly when listening to her father accusing him of taking advantage of her fragile frame of mind and seducing her, costing her such a happy life with Jason.

"It

has

to be the guy's fault," she derided in her mind, hating the chauvinist perspective as if women were so weak and passive, incapable of instigating. "I'm gonna fucking show them..." she hissed, this time, aloud, and drew the rolling pin back as she joined them, loathing all of them for how they were verbally butchering at Oliver. "Get the fuck away from him!" she bellowed the moment she noticed how close her twin was standing to her boyfriend.

Jack took a few steps back, not at all loving how Ellie was swinging that rolling pin. As she paced to Oliver, she cast an evil glance on their parents before returning her eyes to him. He was perturbed, she could easily tell, but he wouldn't be for long. His big sis was going to take care of everything now.

"Why didn't you call me?" she demanded, hating to see the storm in his bright brown eyes.

He shook his head in anger, though now wary of the wrath in her eyes.

"Where's Michela?"

"Out with Gena."

"If it isn't—"

Ellie gestured at Jack with the rolling pin, cutting him off mid-sentence. "If you still wanna be walking by the end of the day, then I'd better not see you standing this close to him again. Nice scar by the way," she added, noting the trenches her long nails had carved on her twin's left cheek. She returned her scowl at her parents. "What is going on in here? Huh? Didn't I warn you not to manipulate him?!"

Alice frowned in bafflement. "Did you honestly expect us to be okay with this? Did you think we would sit by and let you—"

"I don't remember the part where we were asking you for permission!"

"Ellie, you're not in your right mind now to undest—"

"Yeah, I heard all about it, Dad, how Oliver seduced me when I was so vulnerable and lost. Now I don't know what bullshit story Mom has been feeding you, but it was me who was doing the seducing.

Me

, Dad. Not Oliver."

"Ellie, that's not exact—"

"Stay out of it, baby," she said without even looking at him. "I'm handling it."

Oliver shut his mouth, more than ready to let his girlfriend handle it. He'd been fending them off for almost two hours now with no sleep at all. And she did seem to be handling it like a boss, taking on all three of them for over thirty minutes. Whenever they screamed, she screamed harder. She wasn't about let them gang up on her the way they had with Oliver, although he was probably too spent by the time she'd stepped in to take point.

"You know what? This is moot," she interrupted her tearful mother. "Whether you're okay with it is not the issue here. Oliver and I is happening, and you're six months away from becoming grandparents again. This will require major adjustments, we are well aware. But if you don't give yourself the time to digest it, then how do you expect to be accepting about it? You need time! And we

urge

you to take it. Let it sink in."

"No amount of time will help anyone accept it!" Alice sobbed. "This is IMPOSSIBLE to accept!"

"Then what do you want me to say to you, Mom?! Oliver and I are in love! We're having a baby together! This is happening!"

Alice shook her head, losing her mind at the insufferable reality of two of her children conceiving a child of sin. "You..." she wept bitterly at her baby boy. "

You

did this to her! To us! You've ruined this family!"

Oliver stayed quiet. He would never be able to convince his mother that his sister was just to blame. Ellie would never be held accountable in anyone's eyes. He was the one who'd started it, long ago, when he'd boarded that plane right after graduation, when he'd had Michela, when he'd showed up with her four years after she was born, when he'd tricked Ellie into falling in love with him.

"I am so unbelievably disappointed and angry with you right now that I can't even look at you," Dan said to his youngest quietly though firmly.

It hurt more than anything his mother had said to him.

"You too, Dad?"

"Him too, me three," Jack said. "Oliver, you are so fucking dead to me."

Ellie felt horrible. Her boyfriend was taking fire from all angles, but she didn't say anything. She knew she couldn't convince any of them otherwise, and she herself still wasn't completely certain that Oliver hadn't indeed tricked her into falling for him.

"Dad—"

"Don't talk to me. I want you out of my house. Right now."

"Baby, go upstairs and start packing. We'll pick Michela up on our way to my place."

Oliver started for the staircase in slumped shoulders, but then he pivoted. "I'm sorry, Dad. For everything."

When his father ignored him, he gulped and mounted the stairs.

"In case it wasn't clear, Oliver and Michela are moving in with me. Due date is not until October, so that leaves you with enough time to maybe start accepting it, and if you haven't by then, then I guess you never will. Anyway, as soon as the baby is born, we're moving to Italy."

"You're

what

?" her mother said in shock and dismay. "Moving to Italy?!"

"We wanna be free, and we can't here. We're so sorry for what we've done to this family, but just know that we love you, all of you. Even you, Jack."

Jack averted his eyes, feeling his whole world crumbling atop him.

"Ellie, please don't do this, please," Alice pleaded in tears while clasping their hands together. She collapsed to her knees and was now properly begging.

Both Dan and Jack welled up at the sight of the mistress of the house going to pieces like that.

"I have to, Mom... I love him," her daughter wept and knelt next to her wailing mother. "I'm so sorry."

A moment later, Oliver swished down the stairs with a duffel bag. He'd crammed what he could into it, and he'd have Dave get the rest sometime later that week. Right now, he just wanted out of there.

"Ellie." He beckoned to her with his head while waiting by the front door.

Ellie kissed Alice and slowly rose. Oliver turned to storm out of the house, and she followed him to the sound of their mother weeping on the floor.

***

Late in the evening, roughly a month later, Dave knocked on his sister's door, his heart heavy. A lot had occurred since Ellie and Oliver's relationship had come to light, and even though he seriously doubted whether he could offer Ellie any real comfort, he knew he would give it his all.

Ellie opened the door with a glass of vodka in her hand, her eyes puffy and red.

"Hi," he uttered softly, feeling her pain.

Her blue eyes clouded with tears as she crumbled against him. "Dave..."

The blonde keened in his arms as he carried her to the bedroom, stopping only when he laid her on the bed. He lay next to her and embraced her closely while his sister, still clasping the vodka in her trembling hand, sobbed impossible questions.

Her anguish tore at his heart, but there was nothing he could do about it; no way for him to ease her pain, for holding her this closely, he was again reminded of the crux of her misery: her belly. The same belly that had housed his brother's baby up until recently was now as flat as a plank.

His sister had had a miscarriage a little over a week ago. The doctors had argued it might have been stress-related after Ellie had confessed it had been indeed a stressful time for her. That it was her brother's baby she'd been carrying could have been a factor as well, according to the doctors. The truth of the matter was that no one knew for certain. It was most likely a combination of several things that had conspired against her and Oliver's unborn child. Whatever the cause was, Ellie was no longer pregnant.

She had fallen into deep depression since and had broken up with Oliver the same day. She couldn't bear to see his face again, for she would constantly be reminded of this tragedy. Since he'd crashed into her life, almost a year ago, her life had been going down the shitter, and she was done wringing her hands while her brother claimed every good in her. It was time to reclaim control over her life, and it was time to move on. Oliver and Michela were leaving in a few days for Italy, and Ellie had no doubt she had seen the last of her baby brother.

She no longer felt the deep, immortal love she'd been feeling for him for so long. She didn't feel anger or resentment towards him, either. She felt only nothingness. She knew, however, that it would pass. Once she was finished lamenting this tragedy, she would heal and embark on a new path, a new life. But she had closed the book on Oliver, both her brother and her lover, once and for all.

For more than an hour, Dave held Ellie in his arms and listened to her wallowing in her sorrow, though he could tell she was slowly calming down. The vodka had something to do with it, but so did his soothing caresses. He even allowed himself to crack a joke or two, and once he saw Ellie laughing, he rained down upon her the raunchiest, dirtiest jokes in his arsenal. His sister had always gotten a good laugh from those, and this time was no different. They talked, laughed, and drank, and laughed some more, and not even two hours from his arrival, Ellie was positively feeling better.

"Oh, god," she giggled and poured them some more from the vodka.

Dave smiled proudly as Ellie plumped down in his arms again. She lay on her back, her head nestling in the crook of his arm, and tittered some more. They fell silent shortly after, giving themselves over to the buzz and their respective reflectance. Dave glimpsed at her face, and with no warning, he felt his heartbeats picking up. He watched as she laid her hand on her now flat stomach and idly stroked while grinding her pretty feet together. He learned the way her large mounds swelled against her thin cotton nightgown that stopped at her upper thighs. Those thighs... smooth, slim, and glowing with a soft gold hue against the emerald-green fabric. It was summer, and his sister was tanned and perfect.

It then dawned on him how much he loved her, the way he'd been so convinced he had long ago stopped. He couldn't help it any more than Oliver could. His sister was a force to be reckoned with: pretty as a painting, rocking a body that he had masturbated too many times to. And now that his brother was out of the picture, he wanted her more than ever. Incest wouldn't be standing in his way, he knew. He sister had already crossed that line with Oliver. Could he coax her to cross that line with him, too? Could he have her?

"Dave?" Ellie snapped him out of his head with a soft whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you so much."

He pulled her closer to him and stroked her arm. "You don't need to thank me. I will do anything for you."

Ellie met his eyes, almost tasting the longing in his voice. She averted her gaze and ruminated for a spell. "How are you and Kara doing?"

"Well"—he sipped his vodka and sighed—"not so great."

He told her how they'd grown apart lately, that he didn't think Kara was as committed to him as he was to her.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But if it means that I will get to see more of you, then I guess I'm not really sorry."

He swallowed, pondering her words. "Okay, why did you mean by that?"

"I don't know. That I like having you around, I guess. You're the only person that makes me laugh, that... makes me feel..."

"Better?" he attempted to finish her sentence.

"No, not better... good."

Good

. That is what she'd said. He was the only person who made her feel, not better but good. Well, if that wasn't an opening, Dave didn't know what was.

He shuffled on the bed and propped himself on his left arm, the same one that his sister still used as a pillow. "Ellie, I have something I want to say to you, and please don't interrupt me till I'm done."

The blonde looked up at him with her big blue eyes and nodded. "I'm listening."

*

Kara stood outside room no. 512 holding the plastic bag tightly. She plucked out her phone and verified the room number for the third time since she'd entered the hotel. Yes, she was at the right place. She cupped her mouth and expelled a burst of air: fresh and sweet. She adjusted her short frock, then stroked her russet hair back with her fingers. She took a deep breath and knocked.

She focused on the golden plate that stated the room number in an attempt to slow down her thudding heart, but she couldn't. The wait seemed like forever, and her heart was thumping mightily in her chest. She raised her hand to knock again when the door suddenly opened.

"Kara... what are you doing here?"

If there was ever a guy who looked yummy in jeans and a blue tank, it was this guy, Kara thought. He was bulging in all the right places: shoulders, biceps, pecs, and she had it on good authority that between his legs, he was bulging no less.

"Surprise!"

"Yeah," he uttered with a face that seemed definitely surprised. "What... what are you doing here? And how did you even know where to find me?"

"Dave told me where you were staying. And I'm here because I thought you might need a friend. I know that friends is something you're in short supply at the moment."

He nodded, his face an affecting expression of pain and appreciation. "That's very thoughtful of you, to check up on me."

"I'm not here to check up on you, Oliver. And are you ever going to invite me in? Or are you waiting for me to beg?"

"Yeah, of course." He stepped aside. "Come in."

Kara smirked in a way that was unmistakably sultry and strutted in past Oliver, putting her slight hips to good use with an extra-special sway.

Oliver couldn't help looking, studying the way her shapely bottom—

"Where's Michela?"

He shut the door, swallowing as he did. "She's uh... at my parents'. We're leaving in three days, so I thought she should make the best of our time here. And this isn't exactly what you might call homely."

"It's not that bad," she opined while scoping the room out. "Quite roomy even."

It was a standard hotel room with a queen-size bed and two nightstands; an oval glass table and two chairs; a flat screen TV mounted on the wall; a medium bathroom with a tub; and a cozy balcony.

"It's okay."

Oliver walked out to the balcony, escaping Kara's heavy fragrance that smothered the room by now. She smelled incredible to him, so arousing, and so he needed the fresh air. He leaned over the railing, trying not to dwell on her flowery, summer dress that brought out every curve in her slim build, but she had just too many. Oliver always appreciated Kara's physique. She had a build similar to his sister's: slender, curvy, with a great ass. She was pretty and incredibly feminine, and he knew his brother had the jackpot with her.

Kara followed him out to the balcony, extracting the bottle of white wine from the plastic bag. She set it on the small balcony table and wrapped her arms around him from behind. Oliver flinched as her body pressed to him. He looked down at his midriff and watched as Kara clasped her hands together against his hard stomach. He could feel her bosom pressing to his back as she laid her cheek between his shoulder blades. Oliver might have been somewhat naive and clueless when it came to girls, but even he knew that this wasn't right.

"Kara, what are you doing?"