Pharaoh's Taboo Gift

Her intent was clear, but Sabah wavered. Oh, sure. She had experimented in college, once or twice. And girls were fun, when there wasn't a nice stiff dick around. But her mother?

Still. She was horny, as wet as she had ever been in her life, the candle-light and the altar and the seductive pull of the erotic temple tempting her to wild, forbidden acts. She wanted to feel, to step outside her drab existence. Her finger twisted in the elastic of her panties, pulling, making the material dig deep into her crotch. The sensation was almost painful, but still carried a measure of pleasure as the hot wet cotton rubbed against her needy clit.

"You're going to...eat me?" she quavered.

"No." Zahira smiled as her face fell. "I'm going to make love to your hot, horny pussy. And maybe," she added, shooting a look over her head. "Chris can do something besides stare at your tits."

"But they're such gorgeous tits, Mom." Despite herself, despite that she knew what they were doing, the attraction she was feeling to her mother and brother was deeply wrong, Sabah felt a rush of pride. "You can't blame a guy for looking."

"I can blame you if all you do is look," Zahira replied pertly. Sabah gasped as she felt her panties being dragged off. Now she was completely naked, bound by her own desire on this altar, a willing sacrifice. Her mother leaned down, examining her with a keen eye. "Yes. She's horny. Ready to fuck. Aren't you?"

"Yes," she panted. "Please, Mom. I want it. Want you. Both of you!"

"Good." And then her mother leaned down, her back as graceful as the arch of a bow, and planted a deep, tongue-wet kiss square on the seething mouth of her vagina.

"Oh, shit." It wasn't a scream. More of a panting gasp, as her mother parted her nether-lips with her tongue, stabbing it deep into the hot, steamy core of her cunt. Her knees lifted, her thighs parted, wanting more of the incredible sensation. "How did she get so good at this?"

"I don't know." Chris' voice was mildly awed, as if he had just witnessed a minor miracle. Such as an angel moving an inconveniently placed mountain. "I didn't even know she'd ever been with a woman."

"Maybe I haven't," the woman in question responded, lifting her head from between Sabah's thighs. "And are you going to waste your time talking about me, or making love to your sister?"

"Well, you're down there. What am I supposed to do?" Her brother's voice was faintly aggrieved.

"Use your fucking imagination." And then the head disappeared, though promising slurping noises took her place, and Sabah's pussy-lips tingled from her tongue.

"Use my imagination. Right." But there was a thread of humor running through Chris' voice. "Sure."

He began to massage her, his large, strong hands firm but kind. Sabah moaned under his touch, as he stroked every part of her body he could reach, from belly to breasts to shoulders and back again. Her nipples peaked, and she writhed in shameful desire as his fingertips danced across them and made her middle boil with desire.

It was awful and shameful, terrible and perverse and glorious. As Chris massaged her breasts, his hands stoking her arousal until she thought her mind would explode, she found that she had somehow inched her way all the way across the altar, and that her head was now hanging off the edge.

Whoa.

She had known that Chris was...big. One glimpse in her mother's tent had been enough to assure her of that. But to see it, bobbing in her eyes, only a few inches away from her face, was something else again. And the fact that she was seeing it upside down didn't help matters.

Still. As its rigid, tumescent length strained in front of her, rigid with passion, her belly knotted with hunger, and saliva squirted into her mouth. She wanted to touch him, suddenly, urgently. Wanted to learn the shape of his desire with lips and tongue and fingers, the taste of his flesh.

Sabah reached behand her, knowing that the motion made her breasts even more prominent, and hooked her fingers in the tight muscles of her brother's ass. She pulled him toward her, her mouth opening eagerly.

Just when the tip was within the reach of her questing tongue, Chris pulled back. "What?" she whined. She licked her lips hungrily, putting all the desire she could into the simple gesture. "What's wrong?"

He looked down at her. "I just want to make sure this...is, you know...what you want. Not just something you feel you have to do."

Oh, God, she groaned, and the silent voice in her head agreed with a snort of disgust. Men. Can't live with them, can't shoot them out of a cannon and into the sun.

"You listen to me," she stated, making sure her voice was clear, despite the absolutely wonderful things her mother was doing down in her crotchal region. "You've got an absolutely lovely dick. And I want to feel it in my mouth right now." She spanked his ass for emphasis. "So stop fucking around, okay?"

Chris, she decided a minute or so later, didn't so much fuck her mouth, as he allowed her to make love to it. Which was, actually, a bit of a relief. She'd been with men who thought that a blow-job gave them carte blanche to hammer away at her mouth the same way they would at her pussy. Sabah pulled him into her, then away, all the while groaning as his wonderful taste exploded on her tongue. He was hot and hard and thick and tasted of sweat-salt and pre-cum, and it was the most wonderful thing ever. She concentrated, breathing through her nose, as she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth, the taste of his pre-cum thick and salty.

Her head was swimming. Though whether that was from trying to give someone a beej when her head was hanging off the back of a stone altar or whether it was from the three-way she was in was almost beside the point. "Fuck this," she said, letting her brother's spit-slickened length slide out of her mouth. "Mom, watch out."

Sabah flipped over, lying on her stomach. Oh, yeah. This is way fucking better. For one thing, she could reach out and pull her brother's hands to her breasts. For another, she didn't feel as if she was about to pass out from blood loss. For a third, Zahira had taken the opportunity presented by her change of position to slide under and start tonguing her from below. Fuck. Three-ways are the best fucking thing ever.

A warm, indulgent chuckle filled her mind. ~Just wait.~

Sabah scowled in frustration, even as she continued her bobbing assault on her brother's cock. You know what? I'm too old to have an imaginary friend. Who the hell are you?

~A friend of your mother.~

The voice was that of a woman near to her mother's age. Somewhere inside it, Sabah knew, was an answer to the mystery. To why her entire family, including herself, was acting so strangely, as if they were little more than conduits for sexual desire. But the demands of her body were taking control. It was too much. She swallowed her brother's enormous, jutting cock into her mouth, the spongy tip hitting the back of her throat. Chris' hands cupped her breasts, tugged her nipples, making her shut her eyes and moan in wanton desire. And lower, her mother pulled her ass down, lapping at her seething mound.

She was close now, so very close. Her lower body sagged, pushing her molten core into her mother's mouth. As she rocked back and forth, rubbing her clit on the older woman's tongue, whimpering noises escaped the lips that circled her brother's shaft. She braced on one elbow, using her free hand to jack him. As her head lowered, her hand pulled up, as if she could coax his hot, salty seed out of his testes by brute force.

"Oh, man." Her brother's hands left her breasts to tangle in her hair. "Jesus, Sabah. You're so good. Such a wonderful little cocksucker."

Ordinarily, the word would have made her furious. But Sabah embraced it, reveled in it. Yes. I'm my brother's cocksucker. Like he will be my pussy-licker. Tit for tat. And tits, she snickered, barely able to keep her teeth from scoring the sensitive skin of Chris' penis.

Oh! She was getting close. She spread her thighs, until she was almost doing the splits. All of her being, her very self, shifted until it was concentrated on the few inches of her pussy, her breasts, her mouth.

Cum for me, Chris, she commanded silently, though she didn't dare lift her mouth from his rod for even a second. Cum at the same time as me!

­ ~Oh, he will.~ The voice was lazily confident. ~What good children you are. And your own children will be even better.~

"Sabah." She looked up. Her brother's neck was corded, his voice tight with strain. "If you don't want me to shoot off in your mouth," he grated out, "you better stop now."

She shook her head, a tiny jerk, willing him to see the lust in her eyes. It was too late for that. Too late to stop. Too late for anything but the tidal tug of passion inflaming their minds and hearts and bodies. Lava-hot heat pooled in her belly, wanting only the slightest shift to set it off. She let her brother's cock-tip escape from her mouth, but she kept jacking him. She didn't just want to feel her brother cum. She wanted to see it.

There! Not a sad little spurt, but an explosion, a white jet that blew out of his slit and leaped across the gap between his cock-head and her lips, filling her mouth with his taste. Sabah closed her eyes, keening, as the first heady rush of her brother's cum spurted into her mouth. It was hot and thick and salty and she swallowed it down, swallowed his cock again, ravenous in her taboo hunger. At the burst wonderful burst, her body sagged, and her mother took her clit between her lips, flicking the tip of her tongue across the throbbing, sensitive bud until the tense spring of Sabah's desire unspooled in a thunderous orgasm that made her hum around Chris' cock, fisting load after load of his seed down her eager throat. The rush of it hitting her belly made her cum again, something she had not even thought possible, coating Zahira's face with her feminine fluid, and she sagged down onto the altar, limp and boneless, completely overcome by passion's price.

"What?"

A muffled shout from between her thighs.

She rose up an unsteady inch. "What?" she repeated.

"Damn it, Sabah! Let me out before you asphyxiate me!" Her mother pushed her aside, and struggled out from under her groin. "Whew! That was hot as fuck," she panted, coming to rest beside her on the altar. "So," she smiled, giving her a tongue-wet kiss on the mouth, which she heartily returned. "You're a squirter, too?"

"I guess, yeah."

"Guess?" she hooted. "No guessing about something like that! I thought I was going to choke to death there for a second. That would have made for one hell of a Darwin Award. 'Woman Drowns in Daughter's Cum.'"

"Room enough for one more?" Chris asked, shouldering onto the altar. Sabah had to clutch at the side to keep from rolling off.

"Chris!" Zahira swatted ineffectually at one shoulder. "Get off! You're going to kill us!"

"No way." He reached along arm over both of the women, pulling them close into a snuggling, loving heap. "Would I hurt the two tastiest pieces of ass in Africa? I don't think so."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"When we were..."

"Making love?"

"Yeah. There was this woman. Talking. In my head."

"Ah." A finger stroked her cheek. "I should have known. The horny bitch wouldn't settle for one of us when she could have two."

"What?"

Zahira rolled off the altar, coming to rest in a graceful crouch. The medallion on her chest glowed with it own inner light. "We'll talk about this. Outside."

She started for the tunnel, then paused as if a terrible thought had struck her.

"You did save all my notes, right?"

Two weeks later

The Cairo airport was crowded, innumerable people making it a veritable hell.

Especially, Zahira thought, as they wound their slow way through Customs, if you were burdened with the spirit of an ancient Egyptian pharaoh who was so terrified of flying across the ocean that you were about to barf in sympathetic response.

Just calm down, she thought at Hatshepsut, I've done this dozens of times.

~Easy for you to say,~ the older woman moaned, burrowing deeper into her mind. ~Men weren't meant to fly through the air like birds!~

Zahira grinned. It was nice to have the demigoddess on the defensive, just once. Let me tell you about a man named Icarus. It'll be all right. Ten hours. Twelve at most. And we'll be safe at home.

~Safe in a land I've never seen! Across an ocean three thousand miles wide! Separated from everything I've ever known! Why did I let you talk me into this?~

Because if you hadn't agreed, Zahira said cheerfully, I would have left you in the temple. Egypt is very nice, but-

But there's no place like home. Sabah's mind voice was blurred, but recognizable. Zahira still wasn't used to sharing her thoughts with her daughter, but it was getting easier every day.

"Name?" She started, and realized that they had finally come to the head of the line.

"Zahira Collins," she responded.

"Right." The man began to sift through her paperwork, then stopped. "Where did you get that necklace?" he asked.

"Oh, this?" she fingered the heavy gold chain. "It's a family heirloom. Generations in the family, you know. Mother to daughter."

"Right." His thick-fingered hands leafed through her papers, and he scowled in suspicion. "You didn't bring it into the country. Do you have proof that you're not trying to smuggle it out?"

Zahira sighed. She had known it would come to this. Help me, goddess.

She waved a hand in front of the man's eyes. "You don't need to see my documentation," she intoned slowly.

"I don't need to see your documentation," he repeated, his face slack and eyes dull.

"These aren't the droids you're looking for," Sabah added with a grin. Zahira shot her a scalding look and she subsided.

A trio of official stamps on the passports, and they were on their way.

"What would have happened, Mom?" Chris asked quietly, as they sat and waited for the boarding call. "If he had made you leave the necklace behind?"

She smiled, taking his hand. "Well, I would hope that the link between Hatshepsut and me and your sister would be strong enough, by now, to render the need for any mere physical object unnecessary," she said. "After all," she added, lowering her voice, "we have made love a lot over the past couple of weeks. That should be enough. Even for our horny guest."

"EgyptAir announces the boarding of flight 301 for LaGuardia Airport in New York City, United States of America," came the call from the overhead speakers.

Zahira smiled at her children, her lovers. Somehow, over the last two weeks, they had smoothed out the rough spots. They were not just family. Their very souls were entwined. And Hatshepsut, while at times a royal pain in the ass, was a bracing dash of cold water, whenever their mortal bickering got too intense.

"So. Ready to go back home?" She dropped her voice, teasing.

"And maybe join a very...exclusive...club on the way?"

The End