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The Fire Within

Reply to Shelly and Sherri

Posted to the RoswellSlash mailing list March 18, 2001

Title: The Fire Within
Author: Shelly and Sherri
Fandom: Roswell
Pairing: Max/Isabel, Max/Michael
Rating: NC17 for graphic het and slash sex
Archive: please email to inform of desire to archive, thanks! :)
Disclaimer: The characters of these shows don't belong to us. We just like to do fun things to them...<EG>
Warnings: Underage sex though consenting. Technically I don't view Max and Isabel as being physically related so I don't really think an incest warning applies here...just an UC one LOL.
Author's Notes: SPOILERS for a future episode are contained within, plus speculation on spoilers that may or may not be true.

        Isabel was dreaming.

        It had been two weeks since Alex had died, two long, stressful weeks, with no real answer as to *why* he'd driven his car head-on into an approaching semi. Two weeks in which they had all tried to find some reason for his suicide, some sign that they might have missed of his intentions. Isabel agonized over it, over her own rejection of Alex's romantic advances, and in the end she just had to accept that there was nothing she could have done.

        And to let him go...

        Which brought her to this night and her dream.

        As her dreamwalking had become more and more constant, she had learned how to mold her own dreams, as an escape mechanism from the stresses that had filled her life over the last few months. To forget all that had happened and just lose herself in which ever fantasy her subconscious brought up.

        She dreamed that she was lying on the beach, clad in a tiny string red bikini, stretched out on her stomach, a towel beneath her, soaking in the sun. No one else on the beach at all, just her and the sea gulls and the soft crash of waves against the beach. All alone, just the way she wanted it to be...

        Until a voice whispered softly in her ear. "You need more lotion."A soft, sexy purr of a voice, breath warm against her ear and sending a shiver through her, oddly familiar...and yet not. "Shall I?" asked the voice, stroking long fingers down the curve of her neck as lips lightly brushed her earlobe.

        "Please do..." said Isabel huskily, eyes closed behind the shielding sunglasses as she rested her chin on folded arms. His leg brushed against hers as he shifted position so that he straddled her and as he leaned over her to pick up the bottle of lotion resting by her shoulder, she felt something hard press briefly, tantalizingly, against her buttocks, sliding teasingly up so that there was no mistaking *what* it was. Her own groin tightened in response and she caught herself before she could wriggle buttocks against him, to tease him as he did her, blushing hotly.

        Then he was kneeling over her again, just the edges of his knees pressing lightly against her thighs. He tugged the knot loose that held bikini in place and smoothed the string aside before laying his hands on her. Strong hands, stroking slowly over her, working the lotion into her skin, starting at her shoulders and then working their way slowly down, thumbs stroking along the knobbed indentation of her spine and to the upper curve of her buttocks, hidden by the thin cloth of the bikini bottoms.

        A flick of his fingers and one side of the bottoms was undone then the other, one hand pulling the material done to reveal her buttocks. She drew her breath in sharply as his palms slid over her buttocks, kneading them gently, his mouth pressing a kiss to the back of her neck as hands caressed buttocks. One slid down and between slightly spread legs, fingers seeking the center of her, and just the light brush of his fingers across her flesh was enough to make her wet. She arched hips up to allow him access to her and he chuckled in her ear, teeth catching at the tender lobe to give it a tug as his hand cupped the wet center of her, thumb stroking over her clit.

        One teasing finger penetrated her fleshy lips...and then was gone, his hand falling away from her, tongue giving earlobe a parting swipe as teeth released it. "I think...we should do your front too..." whispered the stranger.

        Slowly, quivering, Isabel rolled onto her back, one hand clutching the loosened bikini top to her breasts in a belated show of modesty, and looked up at the stranger. The sun shone brightly behind him, obscuring him from even sunglass-shielded vision, but she could sense his smile as he reached out to take her hands and press them to her sides, plucking away her top to toss it aside. His hands slid under her breasts, lifting them, and his head lowered oh so slowly to press a kiss to one nipple, so slowly that she was throbbing in anticipation of the warm wet touch of his mouth even before lips parted to take nipple inside.

        Tongue swirled over her nipple and it hardened instantly, the other plucked into throbbing erectness by his fingers. He suckled at full breast, hungry for it as a babe, one hand kneading her other breast and the other stealing down between her legs to stroke her, till she was moaning. His fingers went easily into her, she was so wet, and he pumped fingers in and out of her, thumb rubbing clit erect as well, as mouth worked at breast till it was tender and aching.

        Her knees raised of their own accord and she caught at his wrist with a trembling hand, holding his hand still as she thrust down onto the stabbing fingers, a low scream erupting from her. Wasn't enough, just *wasn't* enough, she needed...needed...

        He was over her instantly, as if in response to her need, gloriously naked, skin a gleaming gold in the sun, and she felt at the center of her his throbbing hardness. Burning her, God, she needed it in her...and had it, in one hot slide, his cock piercing her smoothly, as if there wasn't the barrier of virginity to stop him. Hot and hard in her, filling her so completely, so that she could feel every inch of him rubbing against the walls of her passage. She couldn't seem to get legs wide enough, to get as much of him in her as she wanted, and she stretched out legs to hook them around his waist, pulling him in even deeper.

        His body arched over her, white teeth showing in a fierce grin of triumph, and in that moment she could *see* who he was.

        Her brother Max, over her, *stroking* into her, his mouth as hard as the spear that filled her as he claimed her mouth, his hands on her breasts, squeezing them roughly as he thrust up into her. And, God, she was rising to meet him, bucking up against him, wanting, needing, all that he could give her. And she was coming, coming, the explosion nuclear...

        Isabel came up out of the dream with a gasp, body wet with sweat, the covers tangled around, and a pillow fitted between tightly clenched legs, damp now from her juices as she had reached an orgasm. She laid a hand over heaving breast and struggled to breathe deeply, to calm herself. God...she was having wet dreams...about Max?

        Cold shower. She definitely needed a cold shower.

        She threw the blankets aside and tossed the pillow into a corner of her room, striding for her bedroom door and into the hallway, intending to get in the shower right away. Once in the hallway she collided with a solid body and hands caught at her to steady her. She blushed hotly to see that it was Max in the hallway, Max with his hands on her waist, smiling slightly as he looked down at her. "You need to learn how to merge into traffic..." he teased her.

        Isabel forced a smile, very much aware of his hands on her, the heat on them through her thin pajama top. And how those hands seemed to slide up just a little, so that they brushed against the underside of full breasts unconstrained by bra. A little higher and they would skim across nipples already hard and pressing against the thin cotton... "Sorry..." she muttered, pulling back from him and pushing his hands down. He stood there, smiling innocently at her, wearing only his boxer shorts, leanly muscled chest gleaming from the shower, a little drop of water running from the hollow of his throat down chest to slide into the indentation of his navel.

        "Sorry!" she repeated again and ducked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. A *very* cold shower!

Part 2

        Isabel stood under the cold spray of water, shivering from head to toe. The desire she felt had eased, but it wasn't gone. She still ached between her legs, as if she had really been fucked, and her skin still felt sensitized, as if remembering the touch of a strong hand skimming over it, playing her like a finely tuned instrument. But it had only been a dream. Or had it? Isabel was beginning to wonder. Never had she had a wet dream before. Had come close a couple of times. But to have one about her own brother was sick. Or was it? A part of Isabel wondered if maybe this was meant to be. That it was a part of her alien heritage. A year ago she and Michael had had dreams about being together and having a child. The dreams had come when Tess had come, coinciding with the *V* constellation in the sky. But Isabel had never believed Michael to be her destiny. Her feelings towards him were more *brotherly* than her feelings for Max. Secretly, Isabel thought Max was hot. He had the kind of looks and body that she was attracted to. He just needed to dress better. But Isabel had thought much about her *feelings* for Max in the past. But now they couldn't be ignored.

        "Isabel...we're going to be late for school!" Max pounded on the door as he spoke.

        "Coming!" she called back, reaching for the knobs to turn off the water. Stepped out of the shower and used her powers to dry her hair and skin. Then she pulled on her clothes and headed for her room to do her make up. Using her powers again, it only took a minute to look picture perfect. Isabel then scooped up her books and headed out the door, only to skid to a halt to see Max standing there. He was smiling at her and Isabel couldn't help but note that Max looked beautiful this morning. Less tired than he had been of late. And he was wearing the shirt she had bought him last week. An impulsive buy, very spur of the moment. Isabel had seen the shirt and had known it would look great on her brother. It was a long-sleeved pullover, the clingy material outlining Max's muscles and the rich, burgundy color showcased his golden skin and dark hair.

        "You look good," Max commented, his eyes roving over Isabel. She was beautiful, of course, but since Alex's death Isabel hadn't been sleeping good or paying as close attention to her appearance as usual. This morning she looked more like herself and Max was glad to see it.

        "Are we late?" Isabel countered, feeling herself blush under Max's regard. A look into her amber eyes and she knew that his comment was strictly innocent. Max's eyes were the mirror to his soul. Beautiful eyes framed by long, lush lashes.

        Max glanced at his watch. "You've got time for juice and toast," he allowed.

        Isabel shrugged. "Juice is all I want. Did you eat?" She studied Max wondering, for the millionth time, how he could be so slim when he ate like a horse. Most of the time. After all Max had been through in the past year he'd lost weight. He needed to gain some of it back, but he still looked good. All lean sculptured muscle, his body lithe and wiry and reminding Isabel of a cat. A panther. She shook her head to banish such thoughts for they were leading into forbidden territory again.

        "Mom forced pancakes down me," Max said with a grin. "She's still trying to fatten me up."

        "You need a few pounds on you, Max," Isabel blurted out. "I'm sure Michael wouldn't mind giving you some of his excess fat."

        Max laughed. "I can't believe you just said that," he teased her. "Michael would zap you if he heard you talk about him like that."

        Isabel shrugged a smile curving her lips. In the past few months Michael had become self conscious about the extra fifteen pounds he had gained. When Michael got stressed he ate. When Max got stressed he couldn't eat. Isabel did both. "Michael eats like a pig," she stated, chuckling to herself. "He could do that Mikey commercial. *Mikey will eat it...he eats everything.*" Wasn't verbatim but the sentiment was the same.

        "I'm telling," Max taunted, bringing back childhood memories. Good times that he missed, from days long past when he and Isabel could pretend they were normal.

        "Tattle tale!" Isabel shot back, sticking her tongue out at Max. Then she pushed him against the wall and headed for the stairs shouting, "'re it!"

        Max shook his head, a smile on his face and went after her. It was nice to see Isabel happy again. If only for a moment.

        * * *

        Three days passed and every night Isabel had the same dream of Max. Finally she couldn't keep the secret to herself. She had to tell someone. To her surprise, she shared it with Michael. Hadn't meant to, but somehow the words came tumbling out. They were at Michael's apartment, for he had asked Isabel to come over so he could show her a present he'd gotten for Maria. Something to surprise her with so she would get off his back about going shopping for new clothes. The present was a thin gold bracelet. Not real expensive, but Michael had thought it was pretty. Isabel had approved it then found herself telling Michael about the dreams.

        "That'," Michael stated, scratching the back of his head as he got up from the couch and began to pace.

        "It's freaky," Isabel shot back, glaring at Michael as he stalked past her.

        Michael sighed. "Yeah...well...I can beat that."

        Isabel frowned. "What are you talking about?" she demanded. Should have known better than to tell Michael.

        "I've been having the same dream," Michael confessed.

        "The same dream?" Isabel echoed, not sure what he meant. "You and Max having sex?"

        Michael shook his head. "No...I mean me and Max having sex." The moment the words were out Michael regretted having said them. But it was too late to take them back. So he glared at Isabel and dared her to laugh.

Part 3

        Isabel blinked at Michael in disbelief. "You...had a dream...about you and Max? Having *sex*?" she squeaked.

        "Oh, and that's more bizarre than *you* having sex with your brother?" returned Michael, hands on his hips.

        "I just...just didn't know that you...*felt* that way about Max." said Isabel, voice strangled with the effort of not laughing in his face. A little giggle escaped her and she clamped her hand to her mouth to stifle it but she couldn't hide the bright shine of mirth in her eyes.

        "Why do I even *tell* you these things?" grumbled Michael as he spun away from her to stalk to the armchair and throw himself into it.

        Isabel cleared her throat noisily and went to sink down onto the couch, directly across from Michael. "Okay...I think we're both a little weirded out by this. I mean, he's supposed to be my brother...or at least that's the way I used to see him..."

        "Used to?" echoed Michael with a frown.

        Isabel threw up her hands and rose from the couch, her turn to pace before Michael. "I-I love him, I know that...but these-these dreams, they're so intense and when it's happening, it just feels so... right! There's always been a bond between us, from the moment we came out of the pods, and maybe...maybe this is how we're supposed to be together. Not as brother and sister..."

        "According to Tess' little alien scrapbook...she's supposed to be with Max. And you with me." pointed out Michael.

        Isabel halted abruptly and stabbed a finger in his direction. "Yes! But you don't want that, any more than I do. Am I right?" Reluctantly Michael shook his head and Isabel found herself pacing restlessly again. "I'm just...I'm so confused. Why do I feel like this? I mean, it's just *sick*."

        "Technically...he's not your brother." pointed out Michael reasonably. "Because he's not literally a clone of the fearless leader. Look at it this way...see Max more like a descendant of this King guy. Like a son or something. That makes you cousins...and people been doing it with their cousins for years. It's even legal in some states to marry your cousin."

        "Marry?" Again Isabel froze in her tracks, expression horrified. "I don't want to *marry* him, Michael! I just..."

        "Want to fuck him." supplied Michael crudely, getting the same kind of kick out of watching her blush as she did in him admitting that he wanted to do the same to Max.

        "No. No." said Isabel firmly to herself, shaking her head vigorously. "It's just like...being in heat or something. I find someone and then it's been itched and I'll be okay. I'll be okay." She glared at Michael as he pushed up out of his armchair, lips parting to speak. "Volunteer and I will cut you off at the knees."

        Michael shut his mouth and scratched the back of his head, trying to look innocent, an expression that never worked with him. "Not going to say a thing..."

        "Good." Tossing her head Isabel headed to the door and hauled it open, pausing to toss him a cold look over her shoulder. "This conversation *never* happened." And with that she slammed the door shut.

        "Right..." Michael sank back down into his armchair with a sigh. Isabel wasn't the only one that could use a good itch...

        * * *

        There was a new boy at school, Dave Emory. He had the tall, rugged body of an athlete with wavy golden streaked brown hair and a smile that could make you just *melt*. He had asked Isabel out for a date before but she had been so caught up in the trauma of Alex's death that just the thought of looking at another boy seemed terribly *wrong*. He seemed like the perfect specimen for Isabel to dispel the weird dreams she'd been having. If she did it with him, lost her virginity, then it should stop. Maybe the dreams were just like some weird alien hormonal thing to ensure procreation or something...

        And of course he was all too eager to go to the drive-in movie with her, all but drooling as she sashayed up to him in black leather pants and a halter that showed a great deal of skin. Friday night date and she dressed to seduce; a short black skirt that molded to hips and buttocks, easily removed, with no panties beneath it to shield her from wandering fingers...and other things, and a see-through blouse with a white camisole beneath it. When he got a look at her, he'd have to pick up his jaw off the floor, she thought smugly as she put the finishing touches on her makeup.

        She did indeed render him speechless when she met him at the door and throughout the ride to the drive-in. It didn't matter to her how much they talked or didn't, she just wanted one thing from him.

        She thought at first that she was going to have to be the one to make the first move...but then his hand was on her thigh, fingers kneading at the bare skin, and she turned to him to offer him her mouth. His hand slid in between her thighs, creeping closer and closer to her, and she arched up towards his hands, letting him feel bare, warm flesh, eager for him. He stiffened in surprise, his mouth pulling away from hers, and she smiled up at him, tilting her head back to offer him the length of her throat.

        He pressed nuzzling kisses to her throat as his hand stroked her till she was wet and throbbing, his other hand fumbling with the buttons to her blouse and at last getting it open so that he could slip his hand under the camisole to grasp her breast. He squeezed her breast roughly and she arched her back as she felt his fingers go into her, sighing in pleasure. In and out they went, just short jabs, not breaching the barrier of her virginity, and she ground herself against those fingers.

        "Max...oh, Max..." she moaned, eyes tightly shut.

        Dave's fingers left her abruptly and Isabel's eyes flew guiltily open as she heard her own words. "Who's Max?" asked Dave with a frown, tugging his hand out from under her camisole.

        Straightening her blouse and skirt, Isabel scooted over in the seat and crossed arms over breasts. "Take me home." she said curtly.

        "Whatever..." responded Dave with a roll of his eyes.

        And Isabel resisted the impulse to bang her head against the glass window.

Part 4

        After the fiasco with Dave, Isabel found it impossible to sleep that night. In a way she was glad to stay awake. No Max wet dreams to plague her. Come morning, however, Isabel was dragging. She warned Max not to comment when she entered the kitchen and caught him staring at her in surprise. Isabel knew it was because she was dressed in simple jeans and a t-shirt with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her *staying home and it's the weekend attire*. "Couldn't sleep," Isabel said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Needed the caffeine kick.

        "You okay?" Max asked, concern coloring his voice and shining from his eyes.

        "Yeah...I'm fine," Isabel replied, forcing a smile. No way in hell was she going to tell Max the truth. "Ready to go?" Somehow she would make it through school, then she was coming home and taking a nap.

        Max nodded. "Ready if you are," he replied, then he followed Isabel out the door.

        * * *

        " okay?"

        Max jumped at the sound of the voice almost in his ear. Turned to see Michael staring at him. "Fine," Max whispered as he rubbed a hand over his face. Realized he was in the band room and didn't remember coming here. And it was not the first time this had happened. Max had lost *moments* a couple of times in the past week. It was starting to freak him out.

        Michael frowned at his friend but accepted Max's reply. Couldn't really concentrate on Max's weird behavior cause he was still dealing with his own weirdness. His *sex dreams* hadn't stopped. If anything they had gotten more intense. To the point where Michael found himself staring at Max's mouth and wondering if it tasted as sweet as it had in his dreams. Had to, literally, shake the thought out of his head before he suited action to thought. Which had always been Michael's way. Proactive whereas Max was reactive. "'re gonna be late for class," Michael warned.

        "Right," Max replied, then he brushed past Michael and out of the room, wracking his brain to remember which period this was and what class he was supposed to be in.

        * * *

        Isabel dozed off. She was in the last seat in the corner of the room, head propped on one hand. Mr. Latelli was droning on about Shakespeare's A Midsummer's Night Dream and she was bored. And exhausted. Dozing wouldn't have been that big a deal if only she hadn't dreamed.

        She saw him enter the room. Max. And he was wearing a wife beater and jeans that molded to his long legs. Isabel gasped as he strode over to her, and then he was gripping her shoulders to pull her out of her chair. Then his mouth was on hers, tasting her, teasing her, tongue probing inside. Isabel moaned as Max deepened the kiss and one hand undid her jeans to slide inside. She wasn't wearing panties. But it wasn't enough. Frantically Isabel yanked jeans down and stepped out of them, helping Max as he lifted her to sit on the edge of the table at the back of the room. She spread her legs wide, beckoning him. Felt her juices flow down her inner thighs and sighed when he entered her. Long and thick and throbbing. And then he was thrusting into her even as his lips suckled her breasts. Didn't take long for Isabel to cum and she screamed out his name. "MAX!"

        Tittering laughter yanked Isabel out of her dream and she gazed about in horror to realize that she had shouted Max's name out loud. Worse than that, she'd had an orgasm and her panties were wet and staining through her jeans. Horrified, Isabel grabbed her purse and books and ran from the room.

Part 5

        Michael skipped out on his last class and headed home so that he could take a shower and kick back for a while, before his shift at the Crashdown started. When school was done and he had his diploma in his hands then he was gonna quit the Crashdown and get a *real* job. Didn't want to work in a greasy spoon for the rest of his life and surely there had to be more interesting jobs out there. He *would* get his diploma, he was sure of that; the counselor, Mr. Bryant, had told him he was squeaking by, when he'd tried to encourage Michael to improve his grades and attendance. Squeaking by was good enough for Michael; he didn't intend to go to college, anyways. Why bother when he had no ambition towards any career?

        Once home he went into the bathroom to start up the shower and then went to paw through the jumble of dirty clothes in the hamper Isabel had insisted on buying for him. He plucked out a T-shirt and sniffed experimentally at the armpits. Didn't smell *too* bad so it was good for at least another night, which meant he didn't need to do laundry before he went to work. There was a grease stain on the front from the tacos he'd had that night but he'd be wearing an apron so it'd cover that up nicely.

        Smoothing out the wrinkles in the T-shirt as he went into the bathroom with that and fresh underwear, he tossed the items down on the counter and slipped out of jeans, to set them with shirt and underwear. Skinning out of underwear he leaned out the doorway to toss it in the general direction of the hamper and then tugged back the shower curtain, giving a little yelp to see it occupied.

        Max stood under the spray of water, bar of soap held in his hands with the suds leaking down through his fingers, and he looked back over his shoulder at Michael, offering him a grin. "Was wondering how long it would take you to get in here. I need someone to do my back..." he added, turning a little to show Michael his long lean profile, golden skin gleaming under the silver flow of water. From strong broad shoulders to lean chest, torso tapering into slender waist, one soapy hand sliding teasingly over the taut curve of one buttock.

        "Well?" asked Max archly, holding the soap out to Michael, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he let them roam down to Michael's cock, standing out nearly straight from his groin.

        Mouth dry as a bone, Michael stepped into the shower, the bar of soap clenched tightly in his hand, and ran the bar of soap slowly across Max's back, Max leaning back into him with a soft sigh. Lower and lower he allowed his hand to inch till his fingers brushed across the top of Max's taut buttocks. He jerked his hand back, as if it had been burnt, and Max looked back at him, smile soft and warm, desire darkening amber eyes. "You know you want to do do it..."he purred.

        Gingerly Michael let his hand roam lower, sliding the soap in a widening circle against firm buttock. Of their own accord the fingers of his other hand slipped between buttocks to feel their way along crack and to puckered opening. Seemed so natural to slide two fingers inside that opening and Max drew in his breath with a hiss, his hand reaching behind him to grasp Michael's wrist and hold it still as he pressed buttocks up against the screw of fingers. He moaned as the motion buried Michael's finger in him and gave a wriggle of his hips so that fingers were nestled right against gland, to stimulate it with each thrust up of hips.

        "I've got something better for you than that..." whispered Michael into Max's ear and Max shivered in delight, releasing his hold on Michael's wrist. He leaned forward to press the palms of his hands against the wall, firm buttocks turned up to wiggle invitingly at Michael. Laying hands on Max's hips, Michael tilted them up as cock slid between buttocks to seek blindly the hole it desired.

        A shift of Max's hips and there it was, sucking him in, closing hard around him, like a greedy mouth swallowing him whole. Tight and hot and slick and it was all he could do not to explode in Max then and there. It was Max that moved, slowly undulating hips to rise and fall, taking Michael in and then letting him slide nearly out before pressing back up against him again. Michael ran his hands feverishly over skin that was like wet silk, mouth roaming across broad shoulder as hips thrust up to meet Max. Max bent a little at the knees so that he could buck up against Michael, taking him as deep as he could go, panting and moaning with each stab in.

        And then suddenly their position was changed, Max directly under the shower, hands grasping at the shower head to support himself, his legs around Michael's waist and Michael thrusting up into him as hard as he could, rocking Max with the violence of his movements. Mouth and hands roaming wildly over lean torso as the two of them thrashed together, Max's moans turning into harsh cries with each slam into him. And Michael was coming, coming hard, exploding into Max, Max crying out as his insides were drenched with Michael's offering.

        Abruptly Michael found himself alone in the shower, cum all over his hands, cock aching from the violent stroking of those same hands. "Shit, shit, shit..." he muttered shakily and stuck hands under the water to scrub them clean. He showered as quickly as possible and then got dressed to flee the apartment. He *had* to see Maria tonight. Maybe seeing her would help get his mind off Max...

Part 6

        Isabel couldn't sleep. Didn't want to sleep. She couldn't bear another wet dream, not when Max was lying in his bed just one room down from her. Isabel was afraid that she would cross the line and turn the dream into a reality. It was becoming difficult for her to be around her brother. Just looking at him made her want him. So Isabel slid out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Once there she poured herself a glass of milk and stuck it in the microwave. Hated warm milk but maybe it would help her to sleep without dreaming.

        "Can't sleep?" came a voice from the doorway.

        "Max," Isabel gasped, whirling around to see her brother standing there. He was wearing sweat pants that rode low on lean hips and nothing else. Chest and feet were bare. Isabel licked her lips. Max had the most incredible body. He was like a statue of a Greek god. Adonis. Isabel shook her head. She shouldn't be having such thoughts. Clearing her throat she responded to Max's question. "Too restless to sleep." Might as well stick as close to the truth as possible.

        Max smiled. "I can't sleep either. I can't stop thinking about you, Isabel," he whispered.

        She was paralyzed as he moved towards her, gait graceful and pantherish. Then Max was standing before her, fingers curling in her hair, pulling her towards him till their lips met. Then he was kissing her, tongue pushing into her mouth, tasting her...devouring her, and Isabel found herself kissing Max back. Not caring about the fact they were supposed to be siblings. She wanted him...needed him. "Oh.." Isabel moaned, as one of Max's hands slid under her t-shirt. She wore nothing underneath it so he had free access to her breasts.

        "I've wanted to do this for so long, Isabel," Max whispered against her lips. Then he let his other hand slide inside the boxers she wore to bed. Was pleased to find she wasn't wearing panties.

        "God...Max...we can't..." Isabel gasped, and then his fingers were inside her, stroking her, bringing her to climax and she was slumping against him only to find herself lifted onto the kitchen table. With a wave of one hand Max made her boxers vanish, then he was between her legs and sliding into her wet heat. "God!" Isabel moaned as he filled her and it felt so good. So right. Thank goodness their parents were out of town.

        Max locked eyes with Isabel as he thrust in and out of her and a smile curved his lips as he watched her cum. Then he was exploding as well and he bent his head to kiss her and whisper, "You're beautiful."

        Isabel sighed as her body relaxed and opened her eyes to realize she was all alone. Alone, sitting on the table, her boxers pooled on the floor and her own fingers inside her, having brought herself to climax. "God..." Isabel whispered to herself. The dreams were becoming to real. And then she sensed a presence and was horrified to see Max standing in the doorway. Made to jump off the table and scoop up boxers. Isabel had never been more mortified in her life.

        "Wait," Max whispered, striding over to Isabel. He took her hand in his, the hand whose fingers were wet with her juices and sucked them into his mouth.

        "Max..." Isabel breathed, feeling herself grow wet again as Max suckled her fingers, tongue sliding over them, teeth nibbling them. It was the most erotic thing she had ever felt.

        Max slipped Isabel's fingers out of his mouth even as he let his own fingers move between her legs. Then he locked eyes with his sister and breathed, "I want to fuck you."

Part 7

        Isabel shivered at the heat in Max's voice as he whispered the words, his amber eyes dark and hungry. It was wrong, she *knew* it was wrong, but she took the hand that he held out to her and let him lead her back to her bedroom. With a wave of his hand, Max sent the door closed and then grasped Isabel by the hips to lift her up and lay her out on the bed, leaning over her to grind his mouth demandingly against hers. He grasped the collar of her T-shirt and tore it down the middle, tugging it aside so that he could take heavy breasts in his hands, kneading them roughly as he laid himself over her.

        Her legs hung over the side of the bed, Max right between them to press himself against her center, and she could feel his cock hard and eager, even through the sweat pants, surging forward as if it would tear through the material and impale her on its hot length. Feverishly she reached down to grasp the waistband of the sweat pants and shove them off lean hips, letting cock spring free. It butted demandingly against her, rooting around in the damp curls that shielded her feminine folds, and she shifted position, raising herself up to provide a better target.

        Max caught her hips and pressed them down, one hand grasping cock to guide it along her wetness. Rubbing the head of it against her, letting it slide up so that the head of it would just fit between her fleshy lips and out and up, so that the length of his cock was molded to her center. She arched her back with a moan of distress, wanting, needing, to have him in her, to have him stop *teasing* her, for her mouth was watering in anticipation of that hot plunge, just as her juices flowed from her. He bent his head to take the hard protrusion of nipple into his mouth, suckling greedily at it, and slipped hands under her knees to lift long legs and bring them around his waist.

        He was at her entrance, poised there, she could *feel* it, and she thrust hips down with a harsh cry to take him into her. There was a brief, tearing pain as he broke past the barrier of her virginity and then he was *in* her. And her dreams were *nothing* compared to the reality of him in her, hot and throbbing and *big*, filling her so completely. His mouth suckling at her breast, his hands slipping under her to grasp buttocks and pull her up, to show her that there was just an extra little bit more that he could go into her.

        He started to slide out of her and she pressed heels into the undersides of his buttocks, not wanting him to leave her, not an inch of him. His mouth came up off her breast as he stretched out over her to whisper breathlessly into her ear, "It's even better when I move..." She loosened her grip on him, allowing him out of her, till just an inch was encased in her, and found he was right, as he slid into her again. Delicious, delicious friction, his ridged shaft sliding along the soft walls of her passage, but he was being too gentle, too slow. She wanted it hard and rough, wanted to scream out her pleasure as she came...

        And Max obliged her, thrusting hard up into her, so that her body rocked violently with the movement of his. She bucked up to meet him, her body caught up in the frenzy of passion, and raked her nails down his back, drawing blood, as she sought to meet each thrust with one of her own. The bed creaked wildly under them, Max grunting with effort, Isabel giving a little cry with each thrust home.

        It exploded within her, her orgasm, making her shake convulsively with the intensity of it, her vision dimming to near black for a few heart stopping seconds. When she came back to her senses, gasping and trembling, Max was slipping out of her, still hard as a rock, and turning her onto her stomach to go into her from behind. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, throwing her head back with a low scream as he sheathed himself in her, as primal in her reactions as a tawny lioness surrendering herself to her mate.

        His fingers caught cruelly hard in her hair to drag her head to one side so he could nuzzle her throat, arm tight around her waist as he thrust into her. His hand stole down to her clit, to stroke her as he pounded into her, and wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, threatening to drown her under its surge. She was transformed into a primal, rutting creature, with no thought to anything but the plunge of hot hard flesh into her.

        One last thrust and he crushed her to the bed beneath his weight, pressing her there as he exploded into her. Her muscles contracted spastically around her, milking him, and he was gasping harshly in her ear, his body trembling from his release. He fell over onto his side and she went with him, still joined to him, the two of them spooning together as they let exhaustion claim them.

Part 8

        Isabel woke with a start, one hand reaching out for Max. But the space next to her was empty. Not oddly enough, a part of her was relieved. Blinking at the alarm clock, Isabel saw that it was barely 3am. Way too early to even think about getting up. Wanted to sleep for 24 hours straight. To put off having to face Max. To face the fact that she'd had sex with her brother. Mind blowing sex at that. Heaving a sigh, Isabel punched her pillow, yanked the covers up over her naked form and closed her eyes. Thankfully, a heartbeat later, she was asleep.

        * * *

        Michael glared at the clock. 3am. He couldn't sleep. Had been tossing and turning for the past two hours. His date with Maria had been a bust. At first it had been good. They had gone to see a movie then back to his place for some heavy necking. But that was as far as Maria was willing to go at this point and Michael, seriously, needed to get his rocks off.

        So after Maria had gone he'd showered, spending almost ten minutes under an icy spray. Then he'd grabbed a bowl of cereal and plopped down into a chair to watch a football game. That had distracted him till almost midnight. Dumping empty bowl into sink, Michael had crawled into bed. But sleep eluded him. Yet even though he was wide awake, Michael was still haunted by dreams. Waking dreams of fucking Max. Moaning, Michael dragged himself out of bed intending to hit the shower again when a knock sounded at the door. Given the hour, instinct told Michael it was something bad. Trying not to let his anxiety show, Michael hauled open the door and was stunned to see Max standing there. "Maxwell..." Michael whispered. "What...what are you doing here?"

        Max glided in past Michael then turned to close the door. Then he smiled and invaded Michael's face, hands lifting to cup the other boy's face. "I came here to be with you," Max purred.

        "Whoa," Michael gasped, but that was all he could say before Max's mouth claimed his. And it was a hot, hungry kiss, Max's tongue plunging into Michael's mouth to taste ravage him. And Michael found himself giving back as good as he got, fingers tangling in Max's soft hair. Felt his cock grow hard and aching and he wrenched away. Had to be another dream and he was more than ready to wake up.

        "What's wrong, Michael?" Max purred, letting one hand reach out to cup Michael through boxer shorts. Stroked the hardness he found there. "Don't you want me?"

        Michael shook his head. "This is just a dream, Maxwell. A fucked up dream."

        Max laughed, a sensual sound deep in his throat. "It's no dream, Michael," he whispered. "I'm really here and I really want you. But if you don't want to fuck me...that's okay. I can leave." Took two steps towards the door and found his way blocked.

        "You're not going anywhere," Michael growled, then he picked Max up into his arms and carried him over to the bed. Dropped him there and his fingers were moving over Max's shirt, gripping the material to rip it open, to bare perfect chest to his hungry gaze. Then Michael let his hands glide over the perfection that was Max and it was more amazing that he had ever imagined.

        "Nice," Max purred, arching his back to press himself into Michael's touch. "I'd be easier to fuck naked," he continued and grinned to himself when Michael's hands almost ripped jeans off him. Max wasn't wearing any underwear or socks and he had already kicked off his sneakers.

        Michael caught his breath as he gazed at Max. His friend was so beautiful that it made Michael's heart ache. Made something else ache as well. Letting instinct take over, Michael reached out and curled his fingers around Max's cock, feeling the warm turgid flesh thicken in his hand, and he was already big and long. Then Michael took Max into his mouth, lapping and sucking and nipping at throbbing cock till Max came, then he swallowed every drop of salty cum.

        Max then pulled Michael up over him and stole a kiss, tasting himself. "Perfect," he growled against Michael's pillowy lips. "Now fuck me!" It was an order.

        "Yes," Michael breathed, for he wanted that more than anything. be inside of Max. But he held up a hand to stall Max for a moment and moved to remove something from his bedside table. A tube of KY Jelly. "I don't want to hurt you," Michael whispered as he squeezed a liberal amount onto his fingers. Then he moved to kneel between Max's long legs, legs that were spread open for him. Then Michael slid fingers into Max's puckered opening, easing the way for them both.

        "Mmmmm..." Max moaned as a knuckle brushed over his prostate. Then he reached for the tube and squeezed some jelly out before taking Michael's cock into his hands. Had easy access for he used his powers to make Michael's boxers vanish. "I want you inside me now," Max breathed, once he had Michael's cock fully lubricated.

        Michael didn't need to be told twice. He positioned himself at Max's opening and thrust forward, moaning as he slid an inch inside. Had to push hard to get past ring of muscle, but then he was in, sliding all the way home and Michael almost came as he felt Max's tightness sheath around his aching cock.

Part 9

        "Ohh...feels *good*..." purred Max, arching up against Michael as he was filled with the other boy's cock. Tongue ran over sensual lips as he raised legs to snake them around Michael's waist, pulling him impatiently forward. "Do me hard..." he commanded.

        "Right..." groaned Michael. He was having another dream, he knew that it had to be a dream or whatever had been afflicting him, but right now he was ready to just go with the flow. Besides, he hadn't really thought that he had this good of an imagination, to know what it would be like to be sheathed in Max's tight passage, how close it fit to him, like a hand to a glove. And a little hard going at first, till Max adjusted to him, and then they were rocking together, Max's heels pressing hard enough into the underside of his buttocks to hurt as he dragged Michael impatiently back into him with each withdrawal.

        And all too soon he felt the tightening in his balls that signaled the imminence of his explosion, his body shuddering as the pressure built slowly up in him. "Stop!" Max slapped a hand to Michael's chest and he froze in mid plunge, chest heaving from his exertions. His hand slid down Michael's belly and to the base of cock, an inch or so of hard flesh that was not buried in Max. A light stroke of his fingers across silken flesh and Michael's breathing eased a little, the tension in cock easing as well. Still hard as a rock but not ready to go off...not yet...

        He grasped Max's legs to unwind them from around his waist, hooking arms under knees to press them as far back as they would go, till the muscles in Max's thighs sang with the tension of the uncomfortable position. It opened Max to him, let him go in as deep and fast as he wanted, and yet he found himself stroking in slow, letting Max feel every inch of him as he glided along tight passage, letting cock butt against gland again and again, till Max was twitching and moaning under him.

        "Bastard..." gasped out Max between moans, trying to buck up against Michael but the other boy was using his greater weight to press him to the bed. He squirmed helplessly under him and laughed in breathless triumph as the grind of firm buttocks against Michael's groin made the boy give one hard, convulsive thrust into him. "That's it...that's it..." he crooned as buttocks moved in a tight circle, muscles clenching and releasing around Michael, till Michael was maddened enough to let go the reins of his restraint and fuck him like he wanted.

        As Max started to emit little cries of pleasure, Michael leaned over him to seal his mouth with his, smothering his cries. Could silence him and his own groans but not the wild creaking of the springs as they thrust together to reach a mutual release, Max's cock jetting fluid onto Michael's stomach just seconds before he exploded into Max himself.

        Michael all but collapsed on top of Max, spent from his exertions, and Max let him lay there for a few seconds before rolling him onto his back. A few strokes of his hand and Michael was hard again but Michael lacked the energy for another rigorous round of fucking, waving Max wearily off.

        But to his pleased surprise Max moved to straddle him, holding cock in one hand as he slid down onto Michael, till cock was encased once more inside him. And rocked over Michael till he reached a second climax.

Part 10

        "Was it good for you?" Max purred into Michael's ear.

        Michael stirred, eyes fluttering open. Had been sleeping after the second explosion had drained him of all energy. He and Max had snuggled together and now Michael found himself growing hard again as Max's tongue licked at his earlobe. "This has to be a dream," Michael whispered.

        Max laughed, a sultry sound deep in his throat. "It's not a dream, Michael," he drawled. "I'm very real...feel me." As Max spoke he took Michael's fingers and curled them around his own cock, moaning as Michael began stroking him instinctively.

        "But Max isn't like this," Michael countered, but it was a weak protest. This was the Max he had always believed to be buried deep inside his friend. Wild and passionate. He liked the other Max, but this Max was better.

        "I'm tired of being a machine," Max replied. "I need you, Michael. I need you inside me."

        Michael was more than willing to comply. He rolled Max onto his back and pressed long legs back. Still stroking Max's thick cock, Michael now took it into his mouth and he grew ever harder hearing Max's soft mewl's of pleasure. Then Max was cumming and Michael swallowed most of the salty seed. He saved some to lubricate his cock and Max's passage, then Michael was sliding in, all the way home. He and Max fit together like they had been made for each other.

        Max wiggled his hips as Michael stroked into him, slow thrusts that made him impatient. "Fuck me!" Max hissed, eyes locking with Michael's.

        "My way this time," Michael replied, gripping Max's hands in his when the boy would have used them to pull Michael into him harder. And he kept Max pinned with his weight as he moved torturously slow inside the hot passage, brushing over Max's gland until the younger boy shuddered beneath him, moaning with pleasure. "You're mine, Max," Michael hissed, his breathing ragged. And in that moment he exploded, spilling his seed inside of Max then slumping over the other boy. But he raised his head enough to look down upon Max's beautiful face and then he kissed him, and it was sweeter than honey.

        "Oh my God!"

        Michael broke the kiss when he heard the exclamation, turning head to see Isabel standing by the bed. Didn't know what to do, or say, as embarrassment washed over him. Michael was still buried inside of Max.

        Max knew what to do. He rolled Michael off, and out, of him then rose from the bed, uncaring of his nudity. Went to Isabel and kissed her then said, "Join us," before leading his sister over to the bed.

Part 11

        Isabel let herself be led to the bed, still stunned by what she had seen. She didn't know *why* she had come over to Michael's so early and to say that she was shocked to see Max and Michael actually...actually...*fucking*...well, that was certainly an understatement! Some corner of her mind that could think rationally was comparing the dreams both she and Michael had, along with this uncharacteristic behavior of Max, and finding it very suspicious...

        But that suspicion was suddenly banished as Max turned her to face him and placed hands on either side of her head as he leaned in to claim a long, wet kiss. In short time he had her stripped and was pulling her up onto the bed, where Michael welcomed her with a kiss and a stroking hand along the bare skin of her hip. And all too soon she was on her back, legs spreading of their own volition and body arching up to meet Max's plunge.

        Max slid arms under her, pulling her up and into his lap, his hands cupping her buttocks as he encouraged her to rise and fall onto spearing cock. Once she was in the proper motion, he reached for Michael and drew him closer, twisting at the waist to share a hot kiss with him and lowering his hand to Michael's groin to stroke him erect. With a little wriggling he was able to position himself so that buttocks were raised to allow Michael to sink deep inside him as he himself drove into Isabel.

        And left it to the two of them to provide the motion, his body rocking back and forth between them, the two of them ravaging lean form with hands and mouth as they worked him to explosion. The moment Max had cum in Isabel, Michael disengaged himself long enough to roll Max onto his side so that he could go into him again, hard and deep, mouth and hands roaming as much of bare skin as he could reach and Isabel attending to what he could not reach.

Part 12

        Max heard the voice in his head and knew who it was. Kivar. The enemy was taunting him.

        *Now you know how easily I can control you, are mine at any time to claim. And you will do my will at all times.*

        "No!" Max hissed, pushing the voice out of his head even as he felt the essence of the other leave him. Had felt it inside him for the past few days. Max remembered feeling as if he were trapped in a void. Aware of his existence, but unaware of all outside forces. But now his eyes snapped open and he gasped in horror to see where he was. Michael's apartment. Michael's bed. IN Michael's bed and he was not alone. Michael and Isabel were curled around him, Max in the middle, and all three of them were naked. "No!" Max screamed, untangling himself and sliding off the bed.

        Michael came awake and saw Max, standing at the end of the bed, shaking. "What's going on?" he asked, knuckling at heavy-lidded eyes. The three of them had fucked together all night long and he knew it was barely past dawn now. " okay?"

        Max shook his head, body trembling, eyes casting about for his clothes. Found only jeans and nearly fell over tugging them on and up to cover himself. "What the hell did we do?" Max shouted. "Tell me!"

        "Don't you remember?" Isabel asked, as she slid off the bed. Had come awake the same time as Michael and realized that Max was totally freaking out. Something was wrong.

        "I remember having dreams and then nothing...till now," Max replied, one hand pressed against his aching head. His entire body ached, inside and out, and Max realized that he had been fucked. By Michael. Now he understood what Kivar had told him. "No..." Max whispered, falling to his knees.

        Isabel was beside him in an instant, uncaring of her nudity. "What is it, Max?" she beseeched him. "Tell us." There was nothing they couldn't share now, not after what had happened between them last night.

        Max shivered but explained about Kivar taking possession of his body and of how he had felt trapped inside himself. Aware but deaf and blind. "What did we do?" Max whispered, his voice trembling.

        "I'm sorry, Max," Isabel replied, wanting to hug her brother but he held himself from her. "We thought...we had dreams about you...Michael and I. And we thought you felt the same way. We didn't know it was Kivar controlling you."

        "Should have known," Michael interjected, a wry look on his face. "The Max we fucked wasn't our Max."

        Max didn't want to hear this. "I'm going home," He said, rising on shaky legs. But took only one step towards the door and Michael was there, blocking him. "Get out of my way!" Max hissed.

        Michael shook his head. "No. The Max we fucked last night wasn't you," he stated. "But the one I'm going to make love to right" And with that, Michael bent his head and claimed a kiss.

Part 13 Conclusion

        The sensation of Michael's mouth on his was at once something new...and something familiar. It made Max want to melt under the demanding pressure, to part lips and allow the probing tongue entrance to his mouth...and he stiffened under Michael's kiss, hands lifting to press themselves against Michael's chest. Skin that he had touched before, stroked before, and that his hands had come to know so well...but this time he pushed away from Michael, breaking off the kiss with a gasp.

        But he couldn't retreat, for Isabel was at his back, her arms slipping around his waist and cheek rubbing against his shoulder. He could feel her bare breasts pressing into his back and the memories of what he had done with her flashed through his head. The heavy weight of her breasts in his hands, the tight grip of long legs around his waist, her velvet heat encasing him...

        "We love you, Max. We wouldn't hurt you." she said softly.

        Michael didn't offer his own assurances to that, for they'd be false. He *had* hurt Max...and done it with the blind deliberation of one that was hurt himself. But he didn't mean to hurt him now at all... "Do you trust us?" he asked Max simply.

        A simple question...but a loaded one. And with the memories of what he'd done with the both of them free now to spin endlessly through his head, Max found it hard to answer that question. If he said yes...then he was surrendering to what they wanted. He was going to have sex with his *sister*...and Michael. He'd never-never even thought of it before...

        But a niggling voice in his head reminded him that he *had*. He had allowed himself to imagine what it was like to be with Isabel, in dreams that had left him wet and aching, washed away under cold, cold water. And even more confusing yearnings towards Michael...

        These were the two people that he felt the closest to. There was a bond between them that went beyond what he felt for Liz. He would trust them with his life...

        He found himself holding out a trembling hand to Michael and Michael took it, raising it to press a kiss against the back of it. He turned Max's hand to touch mouth to the wildly fluttering pulse in his wrist and let his mouth work its way up the length of his arm, Max shivering under the warm wet pressure of mouth and tongue over his skin. He gasped as one of Isabel's hands slid down belly to stroke fingers gently across his cock, which leapt up to meet their caress. And then Michael's head was fitting between chin and shoulders to nuzzle at the arch of his neck as Isabel's hand caught cock to bring it to throbbing erection.

        Suddenly they were at the bed and between them Michael and Isabel guided Max back onto it, encouraging him to stretch out on it. And proceeded to show him how very special it could be between them...

        The END

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