Dibs on My Sister

Mother loved to retell the story every year on her marriage anniversary of how she’d come across the edelweiss; the time she and her two friends, Aunt Daisy and Aunt Lily went climbing the Foal Mountains of Southwestern Thestralslovakia to obtain a specimen for breeding. Any thestral could have obtained it easily, but without the magic of the earth ponies, it wouldn’t yield or propagate its fabled healing properties.

And so, despite the steepness of the slopes and dangerous winds that blow down from the summit periodically, the three experienced climbers began their ascent. With their prize in sight, perched precariously on a nearby outcropping of rock, the winds unleashed a minor rockfall that by sheer bad luck knocked loose the spike securing them to the face of the cliff. Mom was their anchor that day and for over an hour, she bore the weight of the three while waiting for help to arrive. She had a special crystal that allowed her to call for help, mandatory for all climbers in case of this very event, saving their lives but the winds intensified and it was impossible for the other rescuers to reach them from the air.

Except for Father, his noted talent for flying allowing him to approach through the gale.

He not only secured their climbing spike, saving their lives, but he also helped Mom secure the flower and the two fell in love.

But that’s not where the story of the edelweiss ended...

*****

“Charon… you made me wait for so long!” The needy voice came to him through the bedroom door just as he arrived before it.

He entered without knocking. For what was the point when she could track any living creature moving about inside their home? “I thought these flowers might make it worth your wait…” He gestured towards the flower-filled vase balanced on his left wing.

Phoebe chirruped happily. “Aw, you still love me! Even now as a proper stallion...” Her cerulean eyes sparkled by the dim amber light of a dozen lamps lining the small but highly decorated interior space.

Charon’s eyes panned across the feminine expanse of purple and pink painted stars against a backdrop of the royal, blue-painted wall as he advanced to her bedside. Both walls and ceiling bore posters displaying thestrals flying against a starry sky in V-wing formation over hills, cheering crowds, and into battle carrying an assortment of weapons ranging from bladed 'hoofstrikers', blacked-out longbows for stealth sniping, leg-mounted crossbows for medium-range suppressive fire and bandoliers each holding a different type of explosive gem. Each was dressed in tight leather flight suits of black and purple — a jagged bolt of yellow crisscrossing their legs and neck. They were members of Her Majesty of the Night's elite special forces unit, The Shadowbolts.

Phoebe had been quite keen on ensuring her brother not only could identify each weapon and gem by sight but the history of each and its role on the battlefield as well as the detailed lore surrounding the Shadowbolts themselves despite his having no real interest in the subject. But that didn't mean that each of her lessons wasn't enjoyable when seeing her face light up with joy upon passing one of her 'exams'.

The sex afterwards was great too, when circumstances allowed and unfriendly ears weren't listening.

Phoebe lay on her back in bed, wrapped up in a single sheet covering her whole body like a batty burrito with only everything above the neck exposed.

“Oh, sister... “He placed the vase, filled with their favorite flowers down on her nightstand before looking taking in the full picture of Phoebe’s lovely face: Her prominent fangs, blue and purple color palette, and long, exquisitely sensitive ears, and thanked the Moon above that such a creature could stand among the mortal races, accepting him as an equal. “Never have I loved you more so than today.”

She smiled in return. “Oh, Charon, you’re so sweet…”

Charon began to make out a small but noticeable movement as he drew closer to where she lay beneath the sheets, pulled almost furtight against her lithe form.

He knelt to kiss her, slowly caressing her tongue and teeth, savoring the taste of his one true love.

His partner.

And by some cruel trick of fate, his sister.

A familiar smell wafted under the stallion’s nose as they tasted one another, her heady, blueberry-scented arousal mixed with something else…

With great reluctance, his tongue withdrew from hers with a gentle pop.

“Are you wearing… vanilla?” Charon felt a wave of anticipation grip his very core as she smiled suggestively back at him and gave her pinnae a wiggle.

“About half a bottle of extract… all over my ears.” Phoebe bit her lip as the vigorous motion beneath her sheet intensified bringing with it a stronger aura of freshly baked blueberry muffins. “Don’t tell Mom but… I might have asked Dad about how Mom liked to… you know… Mmphf! ... get him hot and ready to go with her. Is it… Is it working for you?”

He couldn’t reply except for suddenly drooling tongue and frantically sniffing nose. The sight of her nearest ear consumed his conscious mind, standing proud and perky more than a foot over her withers from its base; a tapered spire of supple folded blue skin and cartilage reaching towards the heavens to challenge the Goddesses themselves.

His ancient thestral particularism now fully in command of his faculties, he began to thoroughly examine the perfect symmetry of her helical and antihelical folds; not a single aberration in its thickness or curvature as if they were sculpted by the hooves of Goddess Callisto herself.

His mouth watered and his breathing grew shallow as his eyes, now fully adapted to the semi-darkness of the dim crystal-lit room began to make out still more details: The cleanliness of her ears from a recent bath, the sheen of vanilla on the bare blue skin reflecting dully off the room’s limited light and, upon closer examination, the darker blue freckles sprinkled across its surface that extended into the coat of hair covering the back of her ear.

He’d thought he’d explored every glorious inch of his sister’s body and knew all there was to know about it, only to be proven entirely wrong.

“So I take it the vanilla is helping?” Phoebe’s voice broke into the stallion’s fevered examination. He might have found it rude, but in his sex-and-sister-obsessed state, it was mere background noise as the promise of aural pleasures drew his face closer and closer to her sonic tunnel.

Unable to contain the aching need any longer, Charon pounced on top of her, giving her a look of his manic fixation before taking aim and burying her tongue deep into her right ear, the slurping and schlorping sound of wet, wriggling flesh pressing against her cochlear folds filling the room as she squirmed beneath him.

“EeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEEEEEEE~! She screeched out as she alternated between giggling and moaning, screeching and laughing, as if the insanity of pure passion Charon was experiencing had infected her as well. She tried to form words with her mouth but all that came out were reduced to the savage disjoined syllables of a prehistoric cave-bat pony.

Charon once again felt the full weight of his erection plop down against the sheets and extend, carving a wet furrow into the linen as it pressed firmly against her sister’s belly — the oozing from its tip leaving a trail across the sheet covering his wonderful and perfect sister. He was still buried nose-deep in her massive auricle; the taste of pure vanilla extract stinging at the tip of his elongated tongue, mingled with the tartness of the light wax coating surrounding her concha.

A minute later, he ceased his assault, having extracted every last drop of his vanilla reward. “By the moon above, sister… that was wonderful!”

“Holy Tartarus, Charon! If you would have kept going, I would have flooded the entire room!”

“Hold that thought…” saying nothing further, he licked his lips and then continued the aural assault on her other ear.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Eee! Eee! EeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeEeE!”

Charon pressed down with his full weight on top of her to keep her from thrashing; all the better to extract the heavenly ambrosia from her bountiful blossom, not that her ear would last long against the practiced swipes of his long and coiled thestral tongue. Spreadeagled on top of his sister, there was nothing to stop the nectar of the goddesses from being efficiently and relentlessly harvested as Phoebe’s screeching and giggling laughter only intensified. He kissed and nibbled the inner helix all the way up the pointed tip of her ears before wrapping his tongue twice around the aural shaft and licking his way back down to the bottom before lapping up the pool of pure extract that formed at the base, wasting nothing.

“Charon! I’m coming! Come-EEEEEEEEEEEEENG!”

Charon felt his sister tense up beneath him before letting loose a mighty screech that left his ears ringing, her orgasm and the promised flood of fluid bursting forth in waves that went on and on for nearly a full minute — her voice growing ever hoarser until, at last, she fell silent save for the sound of her ragged breathing.

Having finished his snack, Charon gave her ear-tips the lightest peck of his lips before he felt his lost sanity completely return to him. Suddenly realizing he was smashing his poor sister with his earth pony bulk, he stood up and looked down at her panting but otherwise unmoving form. “Wow! I really need to thank Dad for giving you that advice… Phoebe, my mind went places… I think I’ve communicated with the divine!” She didn’t reply, but judging by the weird, twisted smile on his sister’s face, so had she! It looked like something of a mix of happiness, fatigue, and that feeling you’d get after stuffing your face with too much delicious kishka at Grandpa Merlot’s house, knowing you’d regret it later but not caring in the least.

“Are… you okay, Pheebs?”

“Eeeeeeee…” Phoebe just managed. She looked up lazily at her brother before her eyes found focus and she looked down at her sheet with a gasp. As she’d predicted, it was soaked clean through; Charon could see her blue, puffy entrance, winking aggressively, as clearly as if the sheet were an open window.

“By the moon above, Charon, I really did need that…” She unwound herself from the fragrant sheet and tossed it to the floor with a dramatic flourish.

“Then let me give you even more!” At long last, he had an unobstructed view of her taut, athletic stomach, her diminutive blue-capped teats, her puffy tailhole and Charon’s pride and joy — her large apertured love-roost; a mighty blue mound of skin surrounding tantalizing folds of moist pink and fragrant flesh, still grasping weakly for an unseen stallion’s meat. It pulsed slightly, the large knob of her filly clit poking out over two full inches from beneath her urethra, daring him to take the plunge into her yawning, fathomless depths.

A present fit for a King but one worth waiting for. Charon thought to himself as his mouth began to water anew.

Phoebe cooed at him needily, pulling his attention from the enticing darkened depths of her inner core and back to her eyes of deepest night sky azure. “I’d been touching myself trying to come for the last hour… I thought of everything I could... the last time we slept together… What you were going to do to me when you showed up… but none of it helped!” she told him.

“Shh… It’s alright, Pheebs. I knew you were pent up really bad but I had no idea you couldn’t come at all! By Luna’s Moon, sister, you should have said something to me so I could make more time with you…”

“That’s my Charon. Always thinking of me first…” Phoebe gave a theatrical sigh as she wrapped her hind legs around her brother’s back.

“Hey! I mean it was my magical healing flowers that broke your fever!” Charon traced a hoof through her violet locks and around her ear, admiring the effortlessly sexy look she was capable of even with her mane all out of sorts.

Her expression turned almost pensive for a moment, staring into his slitted eyes with her own. “Mom looked like she was going to pass out again when she realized she was going to have to take care of two of her foals with the flu… You admirable dummy!” She pawed playfully at his chest, the highest part of her towering brother she could reach as he bent down to give her a nip on the tip of her ear.

“Hey, It was the most fun I’d ever had in quarantine! A week of room service and pleasant company with my little sister… Who could say no to that?” Charon’s smile evaporated seeing the look of growing seriousness on his sister’s face. Okay, maybe reminding her of the worst time in her entire life during foreplay wasn’t the canniest move...

“Yeah, it was really fun having you wiping fungus off my wings…” Phoebe shuddered at horror at the thought. “I never should have lived to see fourteen, much less sixteen. Look at me, Charon… I barely look a day older than thirteen… Sometimes I must agree with Mom and ask, why would you ever want to be with this?”

Charon thought that she was exaggerating quite a lot in describing herself as thirteen, though she was much smaller than typical sixteen-year-olds owing to her seemingly endless bouts of foalhood illness. But she was much healthier now and, while she’d never be as large as other mares, she’d proved hardier than most.

Charon feigned a look of overblown indignation. “You… You’re not telling me there’s anything wrong with my sexual preferences, is there? What do you think I am, some kind of pervert?”

That broke the spell as Phoebe laughed and rubbed his ticklish belly, causing his legs to buckle and spear her in the chest with his masculine meat. Laughing even harder for it, Charon couldn’t help but join in as he wrapped his sister up in his legs and flipped her over into his belly with a loud groan of the boxsprings so that the pair were now facing the ceiling. Still uncontrollably erect in the presence of his beloved, his bathood unfurled above the pair of them like the lightning rod atop their home.

Having settled in after a quiet moment of snuggling together, Phoebe spoke up. “I think both of us are a bit out of our tree, Charon. But you know? I think Dad is right. We… we really do belong together. The more I think about it, the truer it becomes...” she offered, watching him as if expecting a reaction.

“What…?” Charon froze as he processed the implications of that statement, reaching the only conclusion possible. “Now, wait a minute! Phoebe, did you listen in on our conversation earlier?”

Her ears swiveled like sensors on top of a Guardspony patrol post. “Of course, I did, brother! What would you have done with the ultra-sensitive hearing abilities you’d had since birth? It’s not like I can turn them off!” Phoebe replied in a maddeningly matter-of-fact tone. “I’m living for any moment when my impossibly large ears can be put to good use. Do you know what it’s like to have to hear everything going on in this tree whether you want to or not?”

Oh, fantastic! Way to drop this on me out of nowhere. And now she thinks I’m keeping things from her! Charon groused internally. “I swear I was going to tell you everything, Pheebs...”

“Or let the sister you loved go run off to sleep with every single colt within a hundred miles after sleeping with her one last time? Charon, you should have talked to me sooner!”

Charon winced as her verbal slap struck home. “You’re right Pheebs… I should have asked.” The colt allowed a bit of frustration he was feeling to register on his voice. “And you could have let Mom down gently when she tried to push you out of the roost to go stallion-chasing!”

“Gah!” Phoebe rolled off her brother to the edge of the bed, shooting her brother an angry look. “Well, maybe I happened to be placed on the spot when my mom, who views incest as the ultimate evil, wanted to know when her sweet little daughter was going to do the right thing and start hitching up… okay?” She turned away and looked down at the floor sighing deeply. “What was I supposed to do, Charon? Say ‘sorry, Mom, I’m already in love with my brother!’”

Charon looked down at his shrinking erection sadly, having returned to base for the night after an apparently failed mission. “Sorry…”

Phoebe said nothing but after a moment’s silence returned to lay atop her brother, facing the ceiling.

The two remained silent, Charon rubbing her exposed belly as he slipped into his own thoughts as the minutes ticked by. He knew his sister well enough to guess she was doing the same and that interrupting the moment would only anger Phoebe further. She was Daddy's girl to the very last and would speak only when she was ready.

And so he nuzzled and caressed her soft belly fur, until the tension between them finally broke with a gentle nicker for her sister.

"I'm sorry too, Charon," she finally said.

He hugged her tight around the middle, eyes misting with emotion. He was the luckiest colt to ever live and he knew it.

“Charon, I want to be with you, I really do! But what in Tartarus are we supposed to do about Mom? I love her, but you know she’s not going to accept this!”

“I know…” Charon had been thinking of that very question for quite some time, even before the talk with his sire. But no matter how he looked at it, there wasn’t any other way around it but to tell her his intention to marry Phoebe, and then wait for — and hopefully wait out — the inevitable meltdown. But before that night there was always the little pony inside his head reminding him that Phoebe was quite content to have sex with somepony or somebat else. Why else would she entertain the idea of going to watch the hunt at all?

Why couldn’t Dad have just said something to him sooner? Maybe he thought it was up to him to decide what was best. Yeah, that was exactly the sort of thing Dad would do, wait until he was eighteen to drop this news on him from a staggering height.

That was it. He was eighteen now! Charon knew exactly what he had to do.

“We do nothing, Pheebs. We’re both technically adults now. Let Mom judge us as she will, but this is our decision to be together!” He squeezed her into another tight hug with all four legs. “Phoebe, please turn over so I can propose to you properly…”

“No! I like the ceiling. It’s prett-EEEEeeeeeee!” her voice escalated back into a primal shriek and Charon started tickling her mercilessly. “Gah! I surrender! I was just trying to lighten the mood some…” She turned over, the pair now belly to belly.

“Consider it lightened.” Brother and sister then gazed silently into each other’s eyes before Charon took her front-right hoof in both of his forehooves, wishing he had a night-blooming flower or crystal to present to her to make it proper. “Phoebe, daughter of Europa of the noble house of Horszawa and Roseluck, scion of the Dureingo herd, will you marry me?”

Charon’s mind began to swim, considering all the possible disastrous replies she could make; even weirdly wondering if he’d identified his mother’s herd properly or if he should have gone with ‘Estado Libre y Soberano de Dureingo’ out of respect before shoving the irrelevant aside out his head entirely.

“Through good times and bad, sickness and war, you are my stallion, Charon of my own house, and I…” Charon gasped as his sister backed her open entrance up against his awakened erection, rubbing her swollen lips gently against his eager, throbbing shaft, “...am your mare.”

“I love you, Phoebe.” He kissed her hoof, his vivid imagination now being put to good use on the myriad ways he could please his bride to be.

“I love you, Charon. We can exchange thumb rings another time. Now make me the mother of your foals!”

Before he could reply, Phoebe plunged her tongue deep into the side of an unprepared Charon’s mouth, who heard the scratch-on-wood of a pair of wing-thumbs hooking into the bedframe below them, wrapping her voluminous wings around the pair of them like a tent.

Their coiled tongues separated like retreating serpents before the first winter’s snow as Charon brought a gentle hoof to his sister’s chest. “As much as I love kissing you, sis. There’s something far more enjoyable I’d like to do with you first.”

“Awww, but I like kissing you! You colts are all the same, just wanting to get to the pumping!” Phoebe teased, her lidded eyes and haughty grin letting Charon know he had permission to do just about anything.

Knowing the only ‘colt’ she’d been sleeping with was him, he teased her back in kind. “All you fillies are the same, too. You all end up looking like Phoebe… not that I’m complaining!”

“I guess you got me there! So what’s your plan, brother? Are we both going to brag about what an amazing catch I am or do I start forcing that mare-splitting log of yours into my inner crèche?” Phoebe’s expression grew fierce, baring her fangs like a huntress on the prowl.

He bared his fangs at her in turn. “How about you be a good little sister and let your big brother groom your big, beautiful wings instead? Now submit for inspection!” he ordered slightly imperiously.

“Oooooo! Great idea!” Phoebe detached herself from the bed and stood up, wings held rigidly at her sides and fully extended; the clawed tips of her long fingers flexing slightly with obvious anticipation. Her long meaty underarms, once so thin and frail, had doubled in thickness in the last two years, evidence of her nightly endurance conditioning flights since becoming healthy. Her wing membrane, once translucent and pale, had thickened as well; red blood vessels fanned out in stark contrast across her bare skin palette of blue in streaks like forked lightning from her arms in the center to the fringes at the leading and trailing edge.

All five digits, connected one to the other at the wrist near the tips of her wings were capped by a long, hooked “thumb” thestrals used to grasp at things, and Charon quickly noted that all were in excellent condition with no visible fractures. Her vast quadrupedal wingpits, much thicker than those of their mere four-limbed bat cousins, possessed no tail membrane, creating an open gap for her rump and a ‘trouser’ pocket of loose skin on her haunches. Rather, they were attached to her body on both flanks from her hip, mere inches above her cutie mark, to just above her forelegs. It took more wing surface to keep the thestrals in the sky than their feathered pegasi counterparts, but Phoebe’s were more than up to the task — evolutionary overkill only matched by her amazing ears.

“Not bad, Phoebe. You’ve taken good care of your flappers since our last interlude. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if you could cross the Equestrian/Thestralslovakian frontier and make it all the way to Ponyville in a single jump at this point.”

“Oh stop charming me, brother! You’re making me blush… Maybe once I’m eighteen, though and have had more time to train.” Phoebe began flapping her wings with a loud fwup fwup fwup fwup, bathing her brother in a strong, cooling draft until she was effortlessly hovering in place; no mean feat for a sixteen-year-old female thestral so heavily reliant on her glide surface to maintain buoyancy under what could be considered normal circumstances.

Seemingly satisfied with her display, she set back down on all fours as lightly as a feather, wings once more held out at her side for her brother’s intimate examination. “Maybe you can help condition me more once we’re married and living alone?”

“I’d love that,” Charon answered, knowing that such fine genetics were nearly impossible to find.

And such genetics had to be propagated at all costs.

He climbed out of bed, circling her as she stood at attention. “There’s only one thing I’d fix… Your wings are a bit dry from your last bath. How about I oil those up for you?”

“Actual preening? Aw! You’re a hopeless romantic, Charon!” She gasped gently as he licked her tough, leathery wingpit, breaking open small pockets of her natural lubricating skin oil, coating his muzzle.

Repeating the process until he couldn’t open his eyes for the sheer quantity of clear, scentless lipid smeared across his face, he began to lick purposefully if blindly, pressing his face hard into her stretchy membrane skin, releasing more lubrication. Phoebe hummed serenely as he licked, trying to stand still as he put every inch of his tongue to expert use.

She couldn’t help but moan and move sensuously as he started working from one end of her left wing to the other, one finger at a time. Her wings would not tear or even come close from his ministrations, as tough as boar’s hide if much softer and alluring to the touch. Cleansing inch by inch, his face forming a semi-translucent mask of his face and tongue as he was pressed against the stretchy surface, his sister was reduced to a cooing puddle as her wings trembled at his touch and the smell of blueberries began to fill the room ever stronger.

“Feels so good… please, Charon, don’t stop! And don’t ever change!” Phoebe whispered breathlessly as Charon started sucking at her thumb claw. From there, he moved on to each of her fingers in turn, taking pains to oil the tops of her wings as well, preening small streaks of her trademark blue coat not present on the lower wing in the process. These he combed through with his teeth, gently nibbling away at the tangles so the oil could achieve an even coat.

No effort could be spared. No amount of attention was too great for his sister, his lover and future wife, and the sole desire of his heart.

His face sopping, Phoebe hoofed over the pillowcase for him to wipe his face off. “You were magnificent, Charon! They’re so strong and supple now! I feel like I could fly to the moon on these wings!”

“Mmmm…” Charon licked his lips and sniffed the air around him after casting off the saturated pillowcase into the same corner of the room as the saturated bedsheet, making a mental note to get it cleaned before their mother could find it. “I’ve been missing the most obvious part of you to groom, Princess… Care to let your big brother have a little something from your pantry?” His voice reverberated with a deeper depth and huskiness betraying an excess of testosterone flooding through his body, engorging his enormous apples and aging him by at least ten years.

“As spoken by King Oberon, so let it be done, my Prince!” Her wings and knees bowed low in a curtsy, she spread her legs and presented her dripping tunnel to her princely brother.

An invitation he was only too happy to accept, so long as he could avoid taking a direct hit from her powerful flagging prehensile tail, which was swishing in involuntary anticipation, and a good way to wind up badly injured. “At your command, my Princess!”

Charon could only barely consider himself a thestral for his difficulty flying; his large muscular earth pony build and overall preference for all things related to solid ground reflected this perfectly. But his tongue never failed to impress her sister.

“Hurry up, Charon! The wait is killing meeeeeEEE!”

Lying prone on his belly to avoid sister’s perky tail swings, he cupped her petite derrière in his hooves — firm yet supple like a pegasus’ backside. Layers of shapely muscle with just the barest layer of fat topped by luxuriously soft skin and fur.

It certainly wasn’t the prize that Dad had sought after and secured twenty long years ago — two rippling mounds of soft, squishy earth mare cushion to sustain endless hours of penetration without ever getting sore. A rump optimized for maximum comfort from one lucky stud mounting her from behind and shoving his wide, mare-splitting meat into their mother from a dominant angle while letting his apples drive themself into her repeatedly with a wet thwack.

Charon had been curious and the door to his parent’s room hadn’t been fully closed. What would anybat else have done but look in on the action? He hadn’t regretted a single thing he’d seen that day, from the tender way both parents spoke to one another during the act or the absolute sincerity of their fiery, passionate lovemaking. Even to this day, the sound of his mother’s maresong brought the colt to full erection within seconds and served as his only port in a sea of imposed abstinence for many a long, lonely night growing up.

Besides, his mom hadn’t scolded him for doing so and considering how good her hearing was, it was inevitable that she’d know he was there. And the colt could swear he could see his dear mother smiling just a bit wider during dinner the night after.

So while Charon could see the attraction, especially with such a breathtaking beauty as Mom who’d leave notes on the calendar reminding Dad to clear his schedule for hours to accommodate her demands for intense and immediate anal penetration — Both Mom and Dad had been very forthcoming in describing the details of their sexual relationship with the family, to a mixture of titillation and chagrin — he still thought he was getting the better end of the deal with Phoebe’s tight, unassuming firmness, particularly when suspended upside-down and operating blind.

Charon opened his maw to gaping, allowing his long, slender chiropteran tongue to unfurl itself like a banner out of his mouth. It allowed the sensitive surface to both smell and taste her pheromones on the air surrounding her moist and dripping entrance, to say nothing of letting his heated breath tease her throbbing clitoris.

“You really are just like Dad, you know that? Always taking your time!” Phoebe snorted and whinnied, her forehoof pawing at the ground anxiously and her tail whooshing overhead like a dive-bombing bird-of-prey. “Hurry or the family will come home and catch us!”

The family… but he had hours, surely. Dad said they were going all the way into town. But he really ought to give Phoebe a taste of what he had in store for her, just a touch of the fire burning in his belly…

He started to lick, a long swipe starting from mid-belly, up the gap between her teats, and across the length of her marehood, before stopping atop the soft mound of what he’d heard his older brother term ‘ponut’ flesh beneath her tail.

He wasn’t sure where they’d gotten that term if not from some illicit Neighponese comics they sometimes passed around, but he felt her entire body jolt off the bed like she’d just received an electric shock, sending her pronking a few inches into the air before landing with an “eep!” and a groan of mattress springs.

Her reaction to his first caress only encouraged him further. And yet… “Before I give you my seed, my beautiful and wonderful sister, I must examine where you will store it!”

“Do it, Charon! For the sake of our f-foal Ah-AHH!”

Wrapping his lips around her labia, he stuck his tongue deep into her nethers, slipping and sliding across her most intimate erogenous zone that started at her very prominent clitoris and extended further inside. Hooves firmly gripped on her rump, he could track his progress like an expert safecracker listening with bated breath for the true gate to click, seeking the key to unlocking the treasures within.

Her reaction told him he was well on his way to earning them. Phoebe’s maresong echoed in the confined space of her bedroom, the taste and touch of her ringed inner walls tortured him with the promise of more. His erection throbbed, his apples beginning to ache slightly as the deprivation lingered on. He knew well that if he let it go too long, he would get even sorer, but this was not for him; this was for Phoebe.

Just like his father always did for his mother, this was about seeing to the mother of his future foals first.

“This is too much, Charon! I’m going to drown you if you stay in there!” she told him shakily as he continued his oral stimulation; her voice several octaves higher than normal.

“But what a way to go…” her brother replied with a muffled voice and a reassuring tap on her rump as the slurping between her legs continued.

With every delicious inch, he traced and tasted ever closer to her core. Up and up, he slid his tongue across her slick and bumpy staircase until it leveled off and at last the true gate was found: a tight ring behind which her love roost was kept as Phoebe moaned her encouragement, enticing his entrance to her most sacred space. His forked tongue tickled and teased at her entrance, as his sister began to screech every profanity she’d ever heard and a few Charon was sure she’d just made up until finally, almost impossibly, his slithering pink infiltrator pushed right through the cervical gate and into her inner crèche!

“Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck MEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Charon felt her entrance tighten, and the first warm welcome gush of marecum hit him full in the face, followed by a second and a third, and then a fourth. Phoebe wriggled and flapped wildly as he retreated from her overheated foal factory, holding onto her through the first five waves of her orgasm ripping through her, sending fresh surges of her purest blueberry essence forth which he lapped up greedily.

After nearly a minute, the sensual storm over her finally broke. Collapsing to the abused bed, she lay still, barrel heaving as she sought to catch her breath. He kissed her edelweiss and patted her flank before loudly burping his approval, the belch catching him by surprise and causing him to hurriedly raise a hoof to his muzzle. “Whew! Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to completely empty you out…”

“You liar!” She cooed back to him before pouncing him in an affectional tackle. “Now open your mouth and let me have some of that!”

“Uhh, sorry, sis, but you’re going to have to go in and get it. I accidentally swallowed most of it…” Charon admitted, sheepishly. To his surprise and delight, Phoebe loved the taste of her own essence even more than he did, and he knew he’d have to fork over all of it the next time.

“Then the rest of it is mine!”

The two play-wrestled for a while, Charon taking it easy on her knowing Phoebe would need just a few moments to recharge. She had inherited many qualities from her mother, but among them was being an insatiable beast in bed who could rut for hours upon hours without tire. Their first time having sex was back when Charon was fourteen and Phoebe was beginning her first heat cycle. It involved the two of them locked together in an erotic embrace for twelve hours inside of an empty cave, not long after the two of them had learned how mating worked and, not even knowing that there were taboos associated with sex between siblings, just had to try it out.

They’d been nearly caught more times than either of them could count. But it’d all been worth it.

He’d taken her virginity, leaving her first blood behind. It was an adventure that started with the pair of them getting their hooves on a birth control potion and marked the beginning of their tradition as forbidden lovers. From there, it was a constant search for privacy to express their deepening bonds through physical contact and secure more birth control with their allowance. His mom had no interest whatsoever in keeping any around the house, saying it was her life’s duty to produce as many offspring as possible, leading the pair to slip off during trips into town to score as many vials of the stuff as they could without word getting out — an unenviable task for two minors in a small, traditional hunting village near the Everfree.

Because even animals would occasionally gossip.

But the nearby animals were not such a threat, giving thestral dwellings a respectful distance unless invited as they’d agreed to do.

Phoebe was no pushover, her wings powerful and small frame difficult to pin down but Charon’s endurance and weight advantage was telling in the long run and the latter soon found himself on top, poised to strike at her most vulnerable and sensitive weak point. Eying her ears once more, fully dilated in the presence of his heart’s desire, he made to bury his muzzle into her auricle again for another taste.

But the colt had telegraphed his move, and Phoebe managed to get one of her wing thumbs in around the back of Charon’s neck, kneeling him down and going to work, licking greedily with her forked tongue on his right ear before whispering sweetly into it. “How do you like it, huh?”

“Please, stop! You’re going to make me waste my load!” His voice nearly as high-pitched as her sisters had been and fighting off the uncontrollable urge to laugh that accompanied the sound of eager slurping in his ear, his knees wobbled from the intense stimulation, fighting a valiant but slowly losing battle to hold off his orgasm.

Thankfully, she stopped, giggling. “You’re even more sensitive there than I am!”

“By the Night, how mares can survive any length of that without gushing is beyond me!” With a dribble of precum, he managed to contain his erection one last time, mentally consoling ‘Little Charon for once again calling him into battle too soon. The next time will be the real thing, I swear it!

“I think we’ll need to try once you’re done putting a bat in me, Charon!” She stole a quick kiss before lashing her tail to the low-hanging dangle beam’ over her bed, shimmying her way to the center of the room with her thumbs so they could both hang freely and flap off when they were done without falling and breaking their necks.

Luna bless the convenience of Thestral housing and its many, many perks, especially well-constructed dangle beams designed for those who preferred sleeping upside down to the usual pony way. They were also great for exercise and he would certainly get a good workout today! But he would make sure she was ready...

“Wait…”

Phoebe released her thumb claws, allowing the full weight of her body to fall on her tail. Her ears descending past her cascading mane almost all the way to the floor. A clear inch of space was all she had to spare. “It’s not perfect but we’ve done it here plenty of times. What’s wrong?

“Nothing’s wrong, Pheebs. I just… you haven’t had any Moon Tea tonight, right?” The birth control potion, made from zebra alchemy, was a must-use for any couple seeking to avoid early parenthood and widely available even in traditional Thestralslovakia.

Phoebe shook her head, rendering him as serious an expression as her upside-down form and gravity-skewed scramble of mane would allow. “I was planning on taking some… until I heard your conversation with Dad. I knew you were going to ask me tonight… and you were going to want to make a foal with me.”

His knees went weak from the suggestion. She was right, and yet… “Are you sure? You know that once we’ve committed to this, there’s no turning back?” Charon asked in semi-casual seriousness even as held his breath.

Phoebe giggled and gestured for him to join her in the dangle beam with a free wing. A leathery whiplike slap of prehensile tail against the smooth wood it was wrapped around and the groaning of said beam soon followed. “I know you’re the stallion, and that you have to ask. But I was ready for this as soon as you walked in!” she told him, causing his breath to catch anew — she really meant it!

“Somehow, it’s like everything we’ve done together was always leading up to this. Ever since that night we saw Mom and Dad kissing and you came up to me with the idea of trying it out ourselves, I never stopped feeling like we were a couple. This will just make it official.”

The gentle scrape of a pair of claws and creaking wood was heard as Charon navigated their limbs until he could comfortably spoon with his smaller sister. “Phoebe, you were eight at the time!” He chuckled, unable to resist taking a swipe at the back of her ear with his tongue.

“And you were ten! I swear, Charon, you are still a dorky ten-year-old to this day!” The pair shared a laugh. “But it’s true. I dunno how to say this without it sounding dumb but… you became something more than a brother without ever having stopped being my brother. And I know I’m going to have to explain this to Mom and she’s never going to buy it but… I don’t care. You’re my stallion, Charon. And you always will be.”

His heart all but melted at her declaration. “You know I had to ask… but I trust you, Pheebs.” He gently stroked her belly fur as she purred — a catlike, throaty vibration only one who has lived up close and personally with a colony of bats could attest to hearing. If he hadn’t lived with her his entire life, he would swear she was fully thestral down to the twentieth generation.

“For me, it really was the way we got our cutie marks. There was never a doubt after that. Every part of me told me it was wrong to feel this way, but if I was ever going to be honest with myself, I would never be happy with another mare. You and I are just the perfect fit.”

Charon felt her wings flutter stiffly against his, as if in arousal. “Do you really mean that? If I went off to the Hunt and started rutting everybat there... you’d go your whole life without a mate?”

“Yes,” Charon replied evenly. “I truly believe I would.”

Phoebe turned her head to nuzzle and lick her lover’s protecting wings. “Pretty lucky I came along then, huh?”

“You have no idea.” Charon’s bathood dropped out of its sheath again, semi-rigid and hanging just over her awaiting entrance. Charon pressed his abdomen forward, adjusting their positions on the fly while probing blindly into her belly. While quite good at seeing in the dark, thestral eyes didn’t allow one to see through solid objects.

So he poked and shifted his hips and poked again, until after what seemed like an interminable number of tries (but he’d reflect later was probably only three), the thick protruding head of his hardness pressed itself against warm, pink, blueberry-scented paradise and almost instantly pushed in, causing both to shiver. He gave a soft hiss as he slowly drove more and more of himself inside of her by lifting their combined body weight with his abs to shorten the distance between them.

She leaned back into him, her back popping slightly as she squeaked and moaned. “Umph! You’ve grown even thicker since last time!” She spoke through gritted teeth as she thrashed her wings about. “I know you want me now but just… be gentle!”

Despite her words and his own overwhelming arousal, Charon couldn’t help but chuckle. “Phoebe… how you can fit me at all, I’ll never know.”

She oohed softly as she swallowed another three inches of throbbing stallion meat as thick around as a foal’s leg. “Th-thank mom that I’m… Ngh! … Stretchy! Nnnnggeh!”

“Phoebe!” he immediately stopped moving.

“I’m alright. I just… too long since last time.” She groaned with frustration. “I’m stuck on that darn, fat ring of yours!”

Charon winced at his sister’s use of profanity, but gave her chest fluff a reassuring tickle. “I think ‘Little Charon’ came from an earth pony. It’s supposed to keep me from going all the way in by design.”

“Well, it’s never stopped me before and you are one-half bat pony, so we…” she thrust herself back into him, ”... keep… go-EEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeng!”

His inner tube of a medial ring finally broke the impasse, hilting himself all the way to his blushing pink applesack, now soaked with his lover’s nectar which gushed freely over his groin.

Phoebe gasped and moaned, her barrel rising and falling before clopping her hooves, and giving a little cheer. “I did it! Brother, I am going to pay you back for every wonderful waking moment I have spent with you! Now hold my hooves, you stud!”

It was at that moment Charon was sure that no matter what happened between him and his family, Phoebe was by his side for the rest of their lives. He reached around her back and the pair clutched each other’s hooves tight and mercilessly as began rocking back and forth on his hips, the pair swinging like the trunk of a sapling in a high breeze as he thrust himself into her quivering pink incubator.

“Er-EEEEEEeeeeeee!” she cried out, the room filling with the plap-plap-plapping of Charon’s soaking, plump testicles smacking wetly against her athletic rear, the creaking and groaning of the beam above them, the flapping of her wings, her ears erratically flipping and flopping with a loud smack and the orgiastic song of sisterly appreciation.

How had his life come to this? What chaos had made his adorable filly sister the most irresistible force in all of nature? And how had such beauty, the likes of which hadn’t been seen since ages past, been reduced to a whimpering mess before his masculine advances? He was screwing his own sister! He should feel like a monster, keeping her to himself and denying her to other bats.

Somewhere, a worthy hunter who single-hoofedly slew a hydra and dragged its carcass back into camp would find the most beautiful and single mare across all the land had not shown up to accept his offering.

It was like there was a hole in the universe, one that Charon himself had created.

And he couldn’t feel prouder for it as he thrust into her with increasing vigor, ready to claim and fertilize her very creche for the first time!

As usual, her sister reached climax first, shrieking her enjoyment into the empty house. “Brother… I am yours!”

Charon felt her orgasm ripple over his bathood, that familiar vice-like grip began to milk him until he felt his legs, one by one, begin to relax as the pressure on his balls crescendoed. His jaw slackened, eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he heard the voice of Aphrodite, speaking his name to the cosmos with a mighty voice.

And with that, he bucked his hips and roared, searing bolts of sticky stallion fire launched at high speed as if from a Guardspony ballista as one orgasm and then another consumed him. In those moments, his entire world was limited to her; his sole purpose in life to impregnate his beloved Phoebe — never mind the fact that it was a full year of abstinence coming to an abrupt and very productive end.

He rode his orgasm to its conclusion, the multiple waves of pure passion and pleasure finally slowing and eventually ceasing. When his apples had fully emptied themselves and there was no chance to take back what they had done, he finally hung limp, barely able to hold onto her even as his orgasm seemed reluctant to leave the embrace of his sister’s marehood.

“Charon…” she called back in pure bliss.

“Phoebe…” he barely managed back in equal joy.

“I want to see your face…” Phoebe spoke in barely a whisper.

“Stay right there…” Charon reached up for the beam with his thumbs again, grunting. His body didn’t seem to want to do anything at the moment. Taking care not to bump into Phoebe, he finally regained control of his muscles as he climbed around her and dropped down on the other side, facing her. “Better?”

“Mmm. Better.”

Wrapped up in each other’s wings like a leathery hammock, Charon felt his eyes begin to droop. Silence fell across the room, punctuated only by the sound of Phoebe’s rhythmic breathing. Behind the door leading to Phoebe’s personal balcony, heat from the morning sun crept over the trees and into the room.

“Sweet dreams, sister…” the stallion muttered before falling asleep.

“And to you as well, brother…”

Charon’s nose twitched, smelling blueberries, his eyes slowly opening soon after.

They were still suspended from the ceiling, their tails locked firmly into place. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out and couldn’t see the clock from where he was. But he could still feel and see Phoebe, purring softly in her sleep.

Memories returned to him quickly. He’d come inside of her… and she was now likely conceived with their unborn baby. Embarrassingly, he’d also come very very quickly, an unfortunate side-effect of being sexless for an extended time; the pair too busy with everything from household duties to schooling to carry on their illicit affair.

But however long it’d been, it’d been long enough to make Charon feel like a new stallion. He was already rock-rigid from Phoebe’s inviting aroma and, having shed this premature load while also staving off a potentially painful ache in his apples, he was ready to do better and have her shattering glass with pure maresong.

He positioned himself behind her and lined the two of them up rutting once more, prodding her entrance when he felt her wings stiffen and flap erratically against his belly.

“You never leave a job half-done, do you?” Phoebe all but cooed, rhetorically. “You lasted an entire minute inside of me, but that wasn’t enough for a perfectionist like you!”

“Perfection can only deserve perfection, Pheebs…” He gave her sister’s ear a hard nibble. “I am going to make you experience pleasures you never thought conceivable. What we did earlier was just practice…” He stole a lick to her ear before growling deeply into it. “Now that I have claimed your egg, sister... I am going to truly rut you!

“Oh, Charon, yes!” Phoebe cried out rapturously as he drove himself to the hilt inside her, unknowing or caring about the approach of her family returning from their day trip.