Lincoln walked through the front door, stripped off his backpack, and tossed it onto the floor. His face was flushed red from walking through the biting December cold and his teeth chattered lightly. "I hate winter," he said and closed the door. "Snow days are nice and all, but I'd much rather it be nice and hot." His brow angled down devilishly. "Like it was yesterday." He shook his head fondly. "I know what you're thinking: 'Linc, haven't you wondered why all of your sisters suddenly want to fuck you?' Actually, I kind of have, but you know, the why of it takes a backseat. I don't really care why they want my dick, I only care that they do." He started up the stairs, passing Lola and Lana, who were fighting over a toy. "I mean, I am a pubescent boy with raging hormones, not a grown...I don't know...writer who sits there and puts a ton of thought into stuff. Sexy girls want to touch my pee-pee. That's all I need to know."

He paused at his door. "After getting my nut, though, I do think about it, and I figure they're either trying to butter me up for something or maybe they're, like, a bunch of black widows and they're planning to eat me when they're done. Not that I care, mind you, it's worth it. Eleven's a good age to go; from what I've heard, it's all downhill from here." He opened the door and stepped through; a football crashed into his chest and drove him back with a cry. He grabbed the knob to keep from falling, but when down anyway, landing hard on his butt.

"Ow, goddamn it!" he cried, his face flushing with anger. He pulled himself to his feet and balled his fists. Lynn was standing by his bed in a pair of red shorts and a jersey, a devious smirk on her freckled face.

"You gotta be faster than that, bro," she said.

"That really hurt," Lincoln said through clenched teeth. He stalked forward, his eyes flashing. "You play too goddamn rough sometimes, Lynn."

Her smirk widened and she shrugged one shoulder. "What can I say? I like it rough."

Lincoln paused, a smile dancing across his lips. Oh, right; in the shock of being drilled with a football, he totally forgot that he and Lynn were probably going to be, uh, hanging out today. He turned to the fourth wall. "That sounds suggestive to me." He looked at Lynn, who stood with her arms crossed and her hip cocked slightly. Her brows were lifted expectantly. "Is that so?" he asked.

She nodded. "Oh, yeah. In fact, I was hoping we could play a game."

Lincoln kicked the door closed and locked it. "What game?" he asked and came forward. She met him halfway and he put his hands on her hips.

"Well," she said, smooshing her chest against his and looking up at him, "it's a new game...a game we've never played before."

"I'm always up for trying new things," Lincoln said.

"Good," Lynn said, "because this is going to be a blast."

She slowly turned in his arms and bent so that her butt rubbed against his rapidly inflating dick. He ran his hands over her hips and kissed her neck, her ponytail softly caressing his face. She moaned happily as his hands crawled over her stomach and up to her chest. He cupped her breasts through her shirt and she leaned back into him. He kissed her throat, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. She turned her head, and their lips met. She opened her mouth, and they kissed passionately, their tongues wrestling for dominance. When she pulled away, her eyes were filled with lust. "You ready to play?"

Lincoln nodded.

She pulled away from him, went to the edge of the bed, and pulled her shorts down; Lincoln's eyes swept the gentle curve of her back, the swell of her hips, and the taunt flesh of her ass. She kicked her shorts away, bent, and spread her legs, revealing her moist sex and her pink butt hole. "The object of the game," she said over her shoulder, "is to shoot your...ball...into my hoop. Think you can manage that?"

Lincoln unzipped his pants and yanked them down, along with his underwear; his dick sprang out. "I can try," he said, and roughly grabbed her hips. She bit her bottom lip as his tip raked across her butt, leaving a burning trail of precum along her feverish skin. It poked her backdoor, then grazed down to her seeping well. Her heat was dizzying, and Lincoln drew a sharp intake of breath. When he prodded her inky pool, she shivered.

"Does that feel good?" he asked.

She clamped her lip between her teeth. "Umhm."

He shifted, and his head slipped into her: Her body squeezed him; she was hot, wet, and tight...painfully tight. He dug his fingers into her hips, pulled slightly back, then threw his hips forward, his rod spearing deep into her core. They cried out in unison. She bowed her head, her ponytail swishing across the back of her neck. "I-I like roughhousing," she reminded him.

He pulled back and rammed into her again. She moaned and fisted the covers. Lincoln pulled back slowly, his head raking a special bundle of nerves; she quivered and nearly lost her balance, but he held her up. When he was almost out, he surged forward again. Lynn threw her head back and cried out as he punched her cervix. "Goddamn, Linc!" She pushed back against him. Lincoln released her hips and ran his hands over her back, pushing her shirt up and dancing his fingers over her warm flesh and her flexing muscles. He drew back and then shot forward again; Lynn lost her balance and faceplanted into the mattress. Lincoln bent forward, clamped her shoulders in his hands, and thrusted again.

Lynn purred as he fell into a steady rhythm, his balls slapping against her clit and sending pangs of pleasure through her body. Her muscles clenched him, her wet, silky walls stroking the tight flesh of his member. She was powerless to do anything but bite the covers to stifle her screams as her brother rutted into her, his body parting hers. Passion filled her, making her knees shake, and she dug her toes into the carpet to keep from sinking to the floor.

She turned her head, her cheeks burning with desire. "P-Pull my hair."

Lincoln snatched her ponytail and yanked her head back as he thrust. "Yes!" she cried. He increased his speed, slamming into her now as he pulled back on her hair. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted in nirvana. Lincoln went even faster, the friction of his dick rubbing furiously against her insides bringing her close to the edge. He yanked even harder on her ponytail, dragging her head back at the same time he bent forward. His hot breath kissed her tingling flesh, then his teeth nibbled her earlobe while his free hand snaked around and squeezed her tit through her shirt.

Her orgasm exploded in her with nuclear force. Her body closed tightly around her brother's dick, and with one final thrust, he released, his cum shooting deep, deep, deep into her, flooding her womb and filling her with heat so intense she screamed. Lincoln let out a long, hitching sigh, and flopped limply against her.

"Good game, bro," she panted and swallowed with an audible click; her throat was dry and her heart slammed. "I say you scored a hole in one."

Lincoln stroked her hair and kissed her neck. "Now it's time for a new game."

"Hmmm. What's that?"

"The waiting game."

Lynn giggled. "If it's a girl, we're naming her Lacy."

Lincoln started to speak, but someone cut him off.

"If it's a boy, you should name him Dracula."

Lynn and Lincoln both looked up; Lucy's face stared down from the vent. "That was really hot, by the way."