Boilerplate disclaimer: This story is fictional in its entirety. The characters mentioned herein do not exist and have never existed, and the events transcribed have never, to the author’s knowledge, occurred. This story is designed for adults, and only for adults. If you are in a location where this material is illegal, do not read this story. If you are too young to legally read this story, do not read this story. If you have difficulties discerning the difference between fiction and reality, do not read this story. Do not, under any circumstances whatsoever, at any time, attempt to emulate any illegal or immoral actions performed in this story. It is important that you understand and respect the line between fiction and reality. This story is harmless fantasy-fulfillment, but any attempt to act out any of these events would not be harmless. Don’t do bad things.
Non-standard disclaimer: In many aspects, this work is heavily idealized. While I have taken care to not include any physical impossibilities, it is important to recognize that in fantasy, body proportions (among other things) trend toward the author’s ideal. If this series becomes popular enough, I’ll handwave it away with some miracle drug, or leave it alone if that’s the will of the audience. If you want more realistic anatomy, I’ll be working on a more realistic story later if my writing style is well-received.
Dramatis Personae:
The Hollands
Christian Holland, 33. Mass tort attorney with Holland, Holland, and Tomlinson. 6’1″, 170 lbs.
Sophia Holland, 32. Criminal defense attorney with Holland, Holland, and Tomlinson. 5’3″, 115 lbs.
Sarah Holland, 15. Junior-to-be at Memphis High School. 5’4″, 105 lbs.
James Holland, 15. Junior-to-be at Memphis High School. 5’7″, 135 lbs.
Erin Holland, 13. Freshman-to-be at Memphis High School. 5’0″, 90 lbs.
The Others
Jane Simons, 48. Governess and nanny to the Holland family.
Richard Hall, 41. Teacher of Civics and Economics at Memphis High School.
John Tomlinson, 33. Mass tort attorney with Holland, Holland, and Tomlinson.
Christine Turnbull, 27. Teacher of Chemistry at Memphis High School.
Annabeth Turnbull, 15. Junior-to-be at Memphis High School. 5’6″, 115 lbs.
Robert Stevens, 14. Freshman-to-be at Memphis High School. 5’6″, 150 lbs.
When Christian Holland, scion of the Holland family of shipping magnates, wed at the tender age of sixteen, the social strain was nearly too much for his name to bear. For a time the Hollands were quietly ridiculed, especially once they began having children. But that soon passed. In fact, Christian Holland soon faded from the eye of society entirely, preferring to make his own name as an attorney rather than live on a sinecure at Holland Shipping, LLc. While it must be said that perhaps no other couple could have made it through college and law school with young children, and perhaps no other couple could so easily have established a thriving law practice, it cannot be denied that Christian and Sophia had managed to establish their own affluence, independant of the Holland family business.
It is their children, who had grown with scant interference or guidance from their own parents, with whom we now concern ourselves. We go now to the city of Memphis, in Tennessee.
It was almost noon on the fourth or fifth day of summer, and a jackhammer was assaulting Sarah’s eardrums. She rolled over blearily to press the snooze button for the fifth time that morning, thought better of it, and rolled gracelessly out of bed in a tangle of blankets. She liberated herself from the knot of sheets and stalked, nude, to the closet. Sarah was five feet four inches tall, with shoulder-length brown hair. She was quite slim, to the point that the pronounced curve of her breasts, which were pert and firm even without a bra, looked almost too big for her. They were not exceptionally large on an absolute scale, being either a generous C-cup or a small D-cup, but stood out from her lithe figure, both literally and figuratively, in an enticingly sensual manner. Her skin was already a uniform tan, with the lineless clarity of one who sunbathes in the nude.
Sarah was preparing to start the day when she caught sight of herself in her vanity mirror, and saw with a start that she looked… well, awful. Her hair was tangled and matted, and her face still bore traces of the previous day’s makeup. She sighed in annoyance, and padded down the hall, still nude (her brother, being an early riser, would have already left the house). She reached the bathroom she shared with her siblings, and paused at the clatter of water on ceramic — her sister, already showering.
Hoping to surprise her sister, she opened the door stealthily and tiptoed in. She could see a silhouette through the frosted glass of the shower. She darted forward, opened the door to the shower, leaped in, and yelled “gotcha!”
Her brother looked at her as if she were insane.
“Sarah, what the hell?” He yelled, attempting to cover herself with her hands. She blushed a bright crimson, likewise trying to cover herself. She should have left right then, but she couldn’t open the door without exposing herself to her brother.
“I’m sorry, John! I thought it was Emily!”
“It’s fine. Just — get out!”
He at last averted his eyes from his twin’s body, and realised with a jolt of horror that he was becoming erect. He readjusted his hand in a futile effort to cover himself. This had the unintended side-effect of drawing his sister’s attention to his groin, and what she saw there held her attention like a magnet. Her brother’s cock was enormous — bigger, by far, than any she’d seen. Though still soft, it was easily seven inches long, and a good inch-and-a-half wide. All efforts to retreat or to cover herself were abandoned. Sarah was struck dumb by the almost grotesquely large penis dangling off of her twin brother’s lanky frame. She absently reached out a hand towards it.
“SARAH, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” John’s bellow jolted Sarah out of her reverie. She flushed crimson again, this time from guilt, as she saw that her hand was almost touching that massive, incredible — she shook herself again, opened the door, and fled the shower.
“Sorry, John!” she cried as she left. “Sorry!”
She ran all the way back to her room, breathing heavily — not from exertion but from arousal. She collapsed nude onto the closest bed, not even bothering to close the door or cover herself. She wanted to cum. She needed to cum. She pressed a finger frantically into her clit, rubbing over and over, harder and harder, imagining what it would be like to be fucked by that massive cock. She moaned, muting the sound as much as she could. Her left hand squeezed her firm breasts, playing over her nipples. She was hornier than she’d ever been before. Her cunt was soaking wet. She was so close — her pussy was tightening — and she heard the bathroom door open.
Through a supreme effort of will, she managed to stop before John heard her, though her wet pussy cried out for relief. She kicked the door closed almost as an afterthought, and jumped up to put some clothes on — just a tight white tank top and some shorts. She was hornier than ever, but she needed to apologize to her brother.
She crossed the hall and rapped sharply on her brother’s door.
“Go away, Sarah.”
“I need to apologize!”
“Do it from out there.”
“Just let me in, dammit!”
“No. Now go away.”
“Please?”
“Fine. Lemme get some shorts on.”
The door unlocked with a click, and she let herself in as her brother wheeled his office chair back over to his desk. John was of average height, and very thin, with the abdominal defintion that comes not from weightlifting but rather from an almost complete absence of fat. His skin, like his sister’s, was very tan. He wore red gym shorts that were partially concealed by a bath towel, which had the appearance of studied nonchalance, as if to disguise the fact that it was there to hide (ineffectually) a very impressive bulge. He had brown hair that he kept in a crew cut, and his eyes, like his sister’s, were a bright green. He did not look at his sister.
Sarah sat on his bed, facing him. He carefully avoided looking at her.
“I’m really sorry for that, John. I thought it was Emily in there.”
“Sure.”
“I did! Really. I promise.”
“You tried to grope me, Sarah! What the hell was that?” His voice had gone from merely sullen to overtly angry, and his eyes had a dangerous cast to them.
“I — I didn’t mean to!” John snorted in disbelief. “Honest, I didn’t. I just… I — I’d never seen one so big!” It was John’s turn to blush, now. He steadfastly kept his eyes from his sister’s firm breasts, whose nipples were not in the slightest concealed by the thin fabric of her tank top. Feeling the need to fill the silence, his sister continued “Your… penis… is enormous. Even soft, it’s bigger than Tommy’s was hard!”
At the mention of her ex-boyfriend, John looked up, but did not speak. “I mean –” Sarah floundered in her attempt to get him to speak, “how big is it, anyway?” John grimaced in embarassment, and looked away. “Come on, John! When was the last time we ever kept anything from each other?”
“Well, I didn’t know you were fucking Tommy Clark!”
“You didn’t ask!”
John swiveled his chair to face his desk and turned on his computer. He gave every impression of ignoring her still-unanswered question. Sarah said nothing, and waited.
“Nine inches.”
“WHAT? FUCKING HELL! There’s no way at all.”
He swiveled back to face her. “If you’re trying to get me to prove it, Sarah, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” His mouth quirked upwards as he awaited her response.
“I wouldn’t say no to a free show, if you were offering one.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything different from the girl who wanted to grope me.”
“Wanted? I still do!” She stuck her tongue out at him. She was breathing more easily now that they were back to their normal light-hearted rapport.
“Be serious for a minute, kid. When did you and Tommy do it?”
“Stop calling me a kid, John. You’re an hour older than me! And besides, I’m a woman now,” she said cheekily.
“When?”
“Last month.”
“Well, then I’ve still got you beat. I did it with Annabeth Turnbull last year.”
“What? No way. She’s like four feet tall!” (It was closer to five, in truth). “She couldn’t take a — a cock like that! It’s too long, and too thick, and –” she trailed off, and they stared at each other in silence for a moment, faces flushed, breathing heavily, each more aroused than they cared to admit.
“How big are your boobs?”
“34D.”
“How do you know? It’s not like you ever wear a bra.” His barb had a core of truth to it; Sarah rarely wore bras, especially around the house.
“Oh, like you mind!” She snorted in disbelief. “Perv!”
John blushed right down to the roots of his hair. “What?”
“I’ve seen you looking.” (She hadn’t, actually — she was taking a shot in the dark).
“Any other guy would do the same! You’re always walking around with your tits out… never wearing a bra…”
“Do you like them?” She knew she was veering into dangerous territory, now, but she was simply too horny to stop herself.
“You’re my sister, Sarah! My twin sister!”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t be honest. You’re my twin brother, but your dick looked awfully good.” They were close together, now, leaning in, scarcely in control of themselves. John caught the faint smell of his sister’s pussy as they talked, and his cock hardened to a degree that was almost painful. The towel across his lap jutted upwards obscenely, as if it had a soda bottle standing beneath it. “Lemme see it real fast, John?”
“You’re out of your mind.” He turned back to face his computer, pretending to be unfazed by the intimate moment they’d just shared, but Sarah wasn’t going to give up so easily. She pressed herself up against the back of his chair, her mouth by his ear, her hands meeting above his lap. Her hands were nearly a foot above his thighs, resting with the lightest pressure on the cloth covering his cock-head. There was a noticeable gap where his waistband was being pulled from his skin, and through the opening she could see a surprisingly sparse mane of curly hair that failed to conceal the wide, hard base of her brother’s cock.
“You can stop me if you don’t like it, big brother,” she whispered seductively, and before she could stop herself she reached down and tugged her brother’s shorts down below his balls, exposing his enormous cock in all its smooth, veined glory. She wrapped her hands around it, reveling in the outer softness given lie by its unyielding stiffness. She stroked it firmly, even roughly, up and down its entire length.
“Sarah! S-stop!” She continued stroking her brother’s massive member unabated. Her pussy was soaking wet; she could feel her juices running down her legs.
“Just move my arms if you want me to stop,” she whispered, and smiled to herself when he made no move to do so. She jerked his huge tool faster, and faster, rewarded by his steadily-increasing panting. She kissed the side of his neck, gently at first, then with an urgent hunger, pressing her smooth lips firmly against his skin.
“S-Sarah! I’m going to cum!” She stroked even faster, and was rewarded to see his cock erupt with semen in thick, sticky ropes that covered his desk, his computer, his chest, even her face. John sat there, stunned, unable to believe what had just happened. He did not speak. He did not stir.
Sarah leaned over, kissed her brother on the cheek, and raced frantically to her own room to relieve the incredible, undeniable, inescapable needs of her pussy.