Taboo The Collection (3 page)

Abby’s tongue moved back and forth over that sweet, sensitive spot, and I rubbed my palms over my nipples, sending pleasure waves down through my belly toward my hips. Everything was centered where her mouth was licking and sucking, soft, wet friction that made me wiggle and pull at her hair, wanting more.

“Come here,” I whispered. “Let me do you too.”

I’d been so scared the first time I tasted her, not knowing what it would be like. She did me, that first time, telling me one of the Hand boys had done it to her one day way out in the orchards. It was a sin, a horrible, awful sin, although she swore he hadn’t put anything inside of her. We still wouldn’t put anything inside th
e virginal space for fear of being deflowered.

After her tongue had sent me to the most intense, astonishing, breathtaking
Heaven I’d ever been to, I’d felt obligated to do her too. She said I didn’t have to—but I did. Now, I loved to taste her—it made me even more excited, feeling her flesh against my tongue, tasting her sweet juices as they ran down my chin.

Abby moved her slender thighs over me, spreading her legs as she positioned herself. I grabbed her hips, pulling her against my mouth, licking and sucking, wild and unrestrained. It made her moan against me, sending waves of divine pleasure humming through me as she continued her exploration between my legs.

Her tongue flicked faster and faster and I made small noises in my throat, urging her on as I licked her little, swollen spot, back and forth, again and again. She was making noise now too, and I loved her noises and how her thighs tightened and her hips rocked, using my tongue for her pleasure.

I found myself fast approaching the gates of
Heaven. It wasn’t a sweet, slow spiral upward anymore, now I was flying, racing headlong toward exquisite release. When Daddy talked about freedom and salvation, I thought this was what he meant, this journey toward ecstasy.

Abby’s tongue and mouth were a soft, wet, glorious push. I moaned and twisted underneath her, wrapping my arms around her hips and feeling her mash herself against my face, my tongue buried in the folds of her flesh until I could barely breathe, but I didn’t care.

It started like Daddy’s sermons, like a small earthquake, rumbling through my pelvis and shuddering my hips as I bucked and arched. Abby made little noises, knowing the sound and feel of me at my pinnacle, licking faster than ever. I gasped and moaned and forgot about her spread over my face for a moment, lost completely in my own paradise.

“Rachel,” she whispered, her fingers moving there, still, sending jolts through me, and I put my whole mouth over her in thanksgiving, rolling with her until she was on her back. She gasped and wiggled, her breath fast and her hips rocking as I licked and licked and licked. Her hands gripped my bottom, her nails digging into my flesh, but I didn’t care. I could hear her making that “ah, ahh” noise she made when she was close.

“Oh God, Rachel!” she cried, gripping my hips and arching her back. She quivered under me, her belly convulsing, undulating, the little bud of flesh under my tongue pulsing with her pleasure. I didn’t stop, still teasing her with my mouth until she begged.

“I can’t stand it,” she cried, half-laughing, half-sobbing as I flicked my tongue over that sweet, sensitive spot.

Finally, I turned around to her and we kissed, the taste of our flesh mingling in our mouths. She didn’t taste like apples anymore, but she still tasted sweet. I retrieved her nightgown, and pulled mine down, snuggling back into bed and pressing my behind back against her hips, never imagining that it might be one of the last times we ever did this.

“I love you,” Abby whispered, draping her arm over my side.

“I love you too,” I whispered back, closing my eyes, still tasting the sweet juices of my stepsister in my throat.

“I have to tell you something.” I heard a catch in her voice that made my eyes open in the dark. “Daddy Zeke has decided. I’m going to be married.”

“What?” I stiffened, and then relaxed, laughing. “Don’t joke, Abby!”

“I’m not joking.” She kissed my shoulder and then pressed her forehead there with a shaky sigh. “I’m to marry Malachai next month.”

“I can’t believe it.” I felt a tight ball of coldness clenched in my belly at the thought, along with a hot streak of jealousy. I knew I shouldn’t feel that way. He was my half-brother, after all—but he wasn’t hers. Not by blood. So this was how Daddy Zeke would continue his empire after he was gone, how he would bring more members into the fold.

Abby choked out her words. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me.” I turned and took her into my arms, knowing that our bonds, blood or not, could never be broken. “I’ll always be your sister.”

I saw his face that night in my dreams, our new preacher, Mal, and I wondered about him, holding onto Abby as she drifted off. I knew we couldn’t run away together or fight what Daddy Zeke wanted, but I was determined to make sure of one thing—I wouldn’t ever let anyone separate me from Abby. We would be sisters—and lovers—forever, no matter what.

In the Barn (Sibling Lust)

My adopted brother masturbated in the barn, way up high in the loft, lying alone in the soft, clean hay we shoveled down for Da to feed the animals. I didn’t understand at first, what he was doing. I think he would have heard me, that first time I climbed up the ladder, ready to tell him Ma needed a hand moving something in the kitchen, if he hadn’t been about to make a mess. I saw him, lying down, black hat tossed aside, head cocked at a funny angle, and at first I panicked, thinking he was hurt. But then I heard his fast, labored breathing, saw his hand moving between his legs, and knew he was holding onto his privates.

But what could he be doing to them?

I stood frozen on the ladder, eyes wide, as his hand moved faster and faster, like lightning, up and down. He gave out a soft moan, his hips bucked up, and I stared, shocked, as thick, white streams shot over his fist, up onto his bare belly, where he’d pulled up his shirt.

I knew it was a sin. I
t couldn’t be anything but. Instead of confronting him that first time, I snuck down the ladder as quiet as I could. I told Ma I didn’t feel well—and no, I didn’t find Eli in the barn, I said—and went to my room, which was really mine and Ada’s and Becca’s together.

I felt sick, rememberin
g what I saw, but I was curious too. What could he have been doing with himself like that? The sounds he made were sort of like he was in pain…but why would he be hurting himself? And at the end, the shock of the liquid shooting from his privates…it wasn’t pee. I knew what that looked like. My littlest brother, Isaac, had peed on me enough during diaper changes for me to know the difference.

I lay there a long time, feeling funny down low in my belly, playing the scene over and over in my head.
Eli was the eldest, in his twenties now, me just behind him, turned eighteen last spring. He was Ma’s sister’s boy really, but when my aunt died of sepsis soon after he was born, Eli’s father had left our order, too full of grief to stay, and the baby had stayed too. My parents had raised him as their own and we had known each other as brother and sister from the beginning. I knew I shouldn’t have watched him, knew I shouldn’t be feeling the way I was, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.

That’s when I decided to watch
Eli, to see if he did it again. It was the next afternoon he disappeared from the side of the house where Da had him stacking wood. I was hanging laundry and saw him head to the barn, so I followed.

This time, I saw it all, from beginning to end. I peeked over the top of the ladder to watch, even untying and taking off my white cap—a sin in and of itself—hoping the darkness of the barn would hide me, and let my brown hair blend into my surroundings. If he looked over, he would only see that—the top of my head and my wide eyes. I watched him lie back in the hay, unfasten his pants,
and start touching his privates.

It was soft at first—a small snake in a nest of hair—but the more he touched it, the bigger it got. I stared, aghast, when it stood straight up, more than double its original size. Eli licked his palm, calloused from hard work, and wrapped his fist around the length, moving his hand up and down, just like the day before.

His breath came faster and faster—and so did mine. That funny feeling was back in my belly, low down, cradled in my pelvis. Something ached there, throbbed, like a tooth does, only it wasn’t a hurtin’ sort of agony, but a delicious kind. I wanted more of it. And the more I watched, the more the feeling swelled until I felt like I was going to burst.

It wasn’t long before he was moaning again, whispering, “Oh, oh, oh!” and then shoving his privates up into his fist, th
e thick white stuff flooding out the end. There was so much of it!

I didn’t go to my room this time. Instead, I hurried down the ladder and went back to hanging laundry, but th
e gnawing tickle took a long, long time to go away. Eli’s hand touched mine when I asked him to pass me the milk pitcher during dinner and I thought the heat rushing through my torso would make me faint. He gave me a funny look, but I just kept my eyes down and finished eating.

Still, I didn’t stop watching. I couldn’t. I felt compelled, even though I knew it was a sin, I knew the devil was in me, and I had to rub him out. I tried. I did. I stood on the ladder, watching my brother pump himself like he was a well, waiting for th
e blessed moment when the liquid finally surfaced, and I lifted my long skirts to touch myself too.

I didn’t have what he had. Girls and boy
s had different parts, I knew that much from changing diapers for Ma when the babies needed it, but I never knew how complimentary the parts were, how different and yet how similar. I pressed myself there over my undergarments while I watched him, worrying myself between the legs again and again. I knew if someone came into the barn—if Da had come in…my blood curdled just thinking about it.

But he never did. And one day, when Eli was thrusting up into his hand and I was at my usual spot on the ladder, watching, I felt th
e little tickle between my legs build to a sneeze. Something had to give. My fingers moved, back and forth, around and around, my whole body tingling with sensation, and then…it happened.

The world exploded.

I cried out—I couldn’t help it—my whole body trembling with the force of the devil inside of me, and I wondered briefly if I had finally driven him out. My legs wouldn’t hold me. They turned to jelly and I fell, catching myself halfway down only to lose my grip again and land, hard, on the dirt floor below.

“Sarah!” Eli was calling. I was okay, but dazed, breathless, still stunned by what had happened, and I didn’t answer him. He took the ladder two rungs at a time, sweeping me up over his shoulder and carrying me back up like I was a sack of potatoes.

When he had me on the hay, touching my face, calling my name, I finally opened my eyes. He was concerned, but embarrassed too, and I knew he was wondering how much I’d seen.
Oh, Eli, I’ve seen so very much,
I thought, catching his hand and bringing it up to my heart.

“I know it’s a sin,” I whispered, lifting his fingers to my mouth and kissing them. “But I can’t help it.”

“Help…what?” His dark, puzzled eyes met mine, and I searched his earnest face with my heated gaze.

“I saw you
,” I admitted, feeling the heat move into my cheeks. He flushed, too. “Eli, it was so wonderful!”

“Sarah, I’m sorry.” His eyes dropped to the hay. “It is a sin. I shouldn’t. I need to stop. I know you’ll have to tell Ma…or Da.”

“No.” I swallowed hard at the thought and cradled his hand against my cheek. “I don’t want to tell.”

“But…”

“Something that feels so good can’t be a sin,” I insisted, half sitting now, back on my elbows. “It can’t possibly. I just…I understand now. Why you keep doing it, how the whole world opens up for a moment and you feel like you’re dying, or flying. I felt like I could touch God himself.”

He was staring at me, wide-eyed. “How long were you watching?”

“I’ve watched lots of times.” I lifted my chin, defiant, in spite of my flushed cheeks. “I touch myself too.”

Eli gaped. “Where?”

I hesitated before slowly placing a hand between my legs, over my long skirts. “Here.”

Puzzled, he frowned. “But you don’t have…”

“I know.” I shrugged. “But it feels good, all the same.”

His eyes brightened, still focused between my legs. My hand still rested there. “Will you… show me?”

Stunned, I stared at him for a moment, unable to breathe. The sort of sin I’d committed so far was nothing compared to what he was asking. Only babies were allowed to be naked in front of others. I looked into his eyes, saw the eagerness, the hunger there, the longing I felt too, and slowly I started to lift my skirt. His gaze followed its path, up my knee-sock covered calves, and then my bare knees. He gasped when he saw those, his eyes following the path of my skirt up my bare thighs until I had it pulled up to my waist.

Then I pressed my hand between my legs, over the heated, damp mound there, and began to rub myself. He watched, fascinated, his breath coming almost as fast as mine.

“Have you ever taken these off?” he whispered, tugging at my undergarments.

I shook my head, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Will you?” he breathed, his eyes meeting mine. What I saw there made me want to do anything, anything at all for him. “Oh Sarah, please.”

The desperation in his voice moved me and I tugged them down and off. The air over my privates was cool, and I explored with my fingers a place I had only touched through my clothes, or when I quickly washed myself on Saturdays. The sensation was incredible, so intense, my fingers growing wet as I parted the dark hair and probed in between.

“That’s so lovely,” he breathed.

“Do you like it?” I asked, glancing down at my parted thighs, the dark triangle.

He nodded, eyes transfixed, and I saw his hand rubbing his privates again through his breeches.

I rubbed the most tender spot, finding a little nub of flesh there I hadn’t felt before through my clothes. Touching it made me moan, and my breasts felt suddenly heavier. “It feels so much better without my clothes.”

“I know.” He grinned sheepishly. “I started doing it at first through my clothes too.”

“I guess it feels like less of a sin that way.” I grinned back. “Oh, Eli, it can’t be a sin…it feels so very good.”

“I know.”  He swallowed hard, still watching, his hand moving to undo his breeches and reach inside. I wanted to see him too. “Sarah…” His hand reached out, hesitated. “Can I… can I touch it?”

“Can I?” My eyes dropped to where his hand was wrapped around his privates.

He startled. “Do you want to?”

I nodded, my hand out, tentative. He moved forward so I could reach, gasping when I brushed the tip with my fingers. It was a little wet there, and I rubbed that over the top, making him moan.

“Oh that’s so nice.” He groaned as I wrapped my hand around it like I’d seen him do. It was thick and pulsing, and not anything like I’d expected. I explored for a moment, curious, until I felt his fingers parting me down there, slipping through the wetness.

“Oh, Eli!” I breathed, my legs pa
rting themselves as he explored too. It was different when he touched me, and my breath came faster. I squeezed him, tugging, making him jerk and thrust. I liked the motion.

“Rub it here,” I said, showing him the spot, and his fingers moved there, m
aking me spread wide and thrust too. It seemed like the natural thing to do.

“I want to see you,” he whispered, not asking, just unfastening my clothes, my skirt, my blouse, and I let him. The air was cold, and he stared down at me, completely nude before him, no longer seeing me with a brother’s eyes. “Oh Sarah, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I glowed from the inside out, and when he leaned in and took one of my nipples into his mouth, the way I’d seen the babies do, latching on to Ma for milk, I thought the sensation would make me faint.

“More,” I whispered, my hand in his hair, arching my back. “Suck them hard.”

He groaned, burying his face there, licking and sucking, his privates swelling even larger in my hand. My whole body was on fire, his fingers probing between my legs, finding a place I had never explored and slipping inside.

“Eli!” I gasped when another entered me. He was inside—his fingers were
inside
of me.

“It’s how men and women join together,” he whispered against my neck, fingers moving, in and out. “It feels… it’s…”

“Oh Eli,” I moaned, rocking, tugging at him, aching for more of everything all at once. “Please, yes, please, let’s…”

He moved on top of me
and I took the weight of him, the long length of his privates rubbing up against mine as we kissed. His mouth was hot, urgent, his hands buried in the length of my hair, completely down now and spread out on the hay beneath us. He rocked on top of me, rubbing the tender spot until I thought I would die, kissing my breasts, sucking my nipples, sending me flying.

“Eli, oh, oh, it’s happening,” I whispered, closing my eyes as my body took flight, shuddering involuntarily underneath him. His breath was hot in my ear as he whispered my name, shifting his hips and pressing hard. I gasped, clinging to him as he entered me, feeling my body opening to him in a bright red burst.