Raped by brother(21)

He didn't have to. She already had the door open. She barely saw the figure rush from behind the tree in the darkness and half jump into the car, balling into the footwell at Monica's feet.

"Close it!" Whit barked, goosing the car forward. The door nearly closed by itself. Then they were halfway down the street by the time he glanced into the mirror again and barked out a laugh.

"He coming?" the figure asked. "Hi, Monica."

Monica should have expected it to be Carla. "Whit, what's happening?" she asked, watching him watch the minor.

"Look behind you. See the car with no lights? Surprise, surprise – guess who's tailing us."

She looked. She just barely made out the dark shape following them. "Chester?" she cried.

"Hell yes. You didn't think we'd get to go out without an escort, now did you?" He laughed again. "But don't worry, Sis – I've got this one figured out to a tee. The bastard hangs on like glue, but we'll lose him tonight. You sure Harry and Wendy are ready?" he asked Carla.

"They're ready, big fucker," Carla said thoatily. She put her hand on his knee and slid it up his leg, letting it curve inward toward his crotch. She laughed with a sultry sound. "I wouldn't screw up this night for anything."

Monica sucked in her breath. She could see the hand in the light from the dash. It was cupping her brother's prick and balls openly, squeezing. She swallowed and felt a rush of tingling. Suddenly, she didn't know if she was ready for this or not.

Carla's rump was against her feet. Her other arm lay on the seat along the line of Monica's thigh, the hand touching the side of her hip. Her head hovered over Monica's leg, and she could feel the warm puffs of breath from her nostrils.

"Hey, cut that out," Whit said throatily, shifting in the seat. "Wait till we dump old Chester, huh?" But Monica noticed he opened his legs wider for Carla's hand.

He took the route toward town. He stopped at the first light and glanced into the mirror again. Monica couldn't keep from looking around. The big car had its lights on now, and there was a van between them, partially hiding Chester.

"Do you see them, baby?" Carla asked, keeping low.

"Yeah, right at the next corner. There's Harry. He's spotted us. He's getting into his car. Ha-a-a, it's gonna work! Bye-bye, Chester!" he crowed.

The light changed. He goosed ahead. Just before he got to the corner, Monica saw the twin to his car pull from the curb and get right in front of him.

"Hang on!" he called.

He cut the lights and swung hard right around the corner, then took another quick right into a narrow alleyway behind a building, pulled on the lights, and shot through the alley, taking another right and nosing cautiously into the street they'd just left. He laughed gleefully when he spotted Chester following the other car away from them.

"We did it! Ha-a-a, wait'll he finds out he's been tailing Harry and Wendy instead of me and Monica. He's gonna slit!"

"Oh, you big fucker – let's go!" Carla cried, squeezing his crotch again.

Whit headed toward the county road out of town – the one she knew would take them to Weaver Station and Joewood Bay… and Burke.

When the city lights were well behind them, Whit settled back for the straight, flat drive along the empty road and spread his legs more and put his hand over Carla's at his crotch.

"Shit, look what you've done now," he said throatily.

"Awww, poor prickie – it's all cramped and bent in there. And so full! Ohhh, it's just straining to get out, baby."

Monica sucked in her breath and stared. This wasn't going to happen. Not really. They were just teasing. She squeezed her thighs together and couldn't keep from watching Carla's fingers as they began working at Whit's zipper.

"Ohhhh, Christ, baby – don't just play with it," he groaned.

"I'm trying, honey," she said. Then she ah'ed with her success and pulled the zipper down.

Monica watched with disbelief as the slim fingers reached into her brother's gaping fly and rooted around and withdrew his erect throbbing prick!

"Whit!" she gasped.

Carla chuckled softly, looking at her from the floor. "You don't have to watch, sweetie," she said. "But I don't see why it should bother you this time."

Monica flushed deeply, glad for what darkness there was. She didn't have to watch, no. But she couldn't stop herself this time any more than she'd been able to stop before.

She watched Carla's slim fingers stroke up and down Whit's prick. She watched the palm roll over the meaty head and make it jerk with sensation.

Carla began jacking him while he drove. Whit groaned and slowed down a little, inching forward in the seat, lifting his hips up.