This story has been in my files, unedited, since July 21, 2018. It was going to stay there for a while longer, but today is Spagthesis's birthday and he loves Lolacoln, so I decided to post it. Thanks go to DNAofUSA for reading and offering feedback waaay back in the summer of 2018. Hope you guys enjoy.

Lola Loud lay awake in bed, the pink coverlet pulled to her chest and her fingers curled over the fringe - her eyes were wide and staring and her delicate cheeks burned deep red. She swallowed against a dry throat and turned to look at the clock on the nightstand: 11:58pm in glowing green numbers. Across the room, Lana's breathing was slow and regular, as it had been for the past half hour.

Sighing, she looked up at the ceiling again, unaware that her legs rubbed slowly together like two sticks, creating friction, heat. She licked her glossy pink lips and wiggled her hips slowly from side to side, the silky fabric of her nightgown lightly skimming the pulsing spot between her hips and sending tendrils of pleasure through her body, from the crown of her head to the pink tips of her toes. She tilted her head back against the pillow and fluttered her eyelids, her knees pressing together as she rubbed faster; hot arousal leaked from her center and smeared across the insides of her thighs, sticky, warm, the dank scent finding her nose and hanging thick in the stagnant air. Her budding chest began to rise and fall as her lungs gasped for air - fire swept through her tiny frame and breathing was suddenly impossible, each inhalation hot and shallow, denying her already deprived brain oxygen and making her even more dizzy and lightheaded than she already was. She looked at the clock again. Midnight exactly.

Maybe he wasn't coming.

That wasn't likely, he came every night sooner or later, but the faint possibility alarmed her - if he didn't, she'd lay her all night, consumed by passion, unable to sleep or even to move until her body was released. She bit her lower lip and narrowed her eyes in thought. Maybe she should just do it herself and get it over with.

She didn't want to do it herself, though - her touch wasn't as warm as his, or as rugged, her fingers couldn't do to her body what his could. She didn't know how much more of this she could handle, though; she'd been heady with carnal longing since morning, and with each passing hour, each dirty thought, each glimpse of something arousing, the pressure in her loins built, gathering like a storm, growing stronger, more deadly. When it broke...ummm.

12:01. Now 12:02.

She bit down hard on her lip as if to clear her head, but it didn't work. Forget this. She pushed the covers down, swung her legs out, and drew them up in a sloppy M, the hem of her dress falling down the swell over her pubic mound and baring her burning sex to the cool night air. She reached down and tugged it up over her hips, lifting her butt. She laid one hand flat on her rippling stomach and closed her eyes, calling up the ghosts of touches past. She crept her French tipped fingers across her fevered flesh and licked her lips, her nails leaving streaks of electricity in their wake. She brushed her teeth over her lip as her fingertips reached the soft plain of skin above her aching core. Shivers raced through her and the soft caress of the air against her trembling feneminity raked goosebumps up and down her shapely legs.

When the doorknob turned and the latch rattled, she froze, her slitted eyes shooting open and her hand freezing scant inches from her throbbing clit. The hinges squeaked, and a crack of soft yellow light spread across the darkness like the cresting rays of the morning sun. Lola snatched her hand back and snapped her legs closed, her neck craning to see who it was even though she had a sneaking suspicion.

The door came fully open, and a silhouette filled the frame, backlit against the hall light. Her eyes went to the unmistakable outline of its cowlick, and a sly smile crossed her face.

Lincoln came in, closing the door behind him, and came over to the bed on soft, soundless feet. He sat on the edge, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, and Lola parted her knees again, one bumping between his shoulder blades. "Hi, Lincy," she purred.

"Hi," he said, a smile in his voice. He turned and splayed his hand on her stomach, the heat of his palm soaking into her and making her breath catch. "Sorry I'm late."

Lola shifted her hips and snuggled closer to her older brother, her chest heaving as his heat and smell filled her, tantalizing her senses, intoxicating her already addled mind. "That's okay. You're here now."

"I am," he agreed, and trailed his hand down her stomach, his strong fingers keading her soft flesh in lazy circles. She spread her legs wider to give him better access and stared at his face, able to see only the vaguest suggestion of his features in the dark.

He twisted around, his bent knee coming to rest on the bed, and cupped her in his hand, her dank heat filling his palm and the kiss of his flesh against hers making her eyes roll back in her head. She hummed and closed her eyes, her mouth dropping open in a silent scream when he pressed his thumb to the nub of her arousal and started to rub in a gentle counterclockwise fashion. Her heartbeat sped up, slamming against her ribs, and hot lead rose in her stomach. She dug her heels into the bed and fought to regulate her breathing, her teeth clamping and the air producing a soft, irregular hiss. She moved her head slowly from side to side, her blonde hair rustling and her cheeks turning a deep shade of scarlet. Lincoln ran his middle finger between her tacky folds with a wet sound, and she let out a trembling moan. She clutched the pink sheets and began to rock her hips rhythmically forward, grinding his hand. Lincoln's breath hitched as his own excitement rose; he grazed her bud and leaned over, his hot breath breaking over her face and filling her nose.

Biting her lip, she opened her eyes to narrow slits and undulated her body in a smooth, wave-like motion. Lincoln pressed his thumb against her and traced the rim of her opening with his middle finger, teasing her closer to the edge. She purred deep in the back of her throat and stared up at him, sweetly anticipating the moment his will broke and he molded his lips to hers. Each night he tested himself to see how long he could wait - by the ragged sound of his breathing, tonight, it wouldn't be long.

He rubbed faster, circling her clit and her entrance in time; Lola closed her eyes and thrusted into his touch, her body smoldering like a bed of embers. He laid his free hand flat over her heart and tweaked her rigid nipple through the gown and a tiny, breathy mewl trembled past her lips.

That did it; he leaned all the way in and kissed her, his tongue flicking out and swirling around hers, his fingers rubbing faster, her mind going haywire as blinding rapture filled her skull like heavenly light; she didn't have the presence of mind to kiss him back - she could only grind harder as he pillaged her mouth. He took his hand from between her legs, slipped it into her hair, and mounted her, the kiss never breaking. Lola ran her hands down his sides, sliding them under his T-shirt and plying his warm flesh. His bulge scraped across her lips, and her brain scrambled with white heat.

He pulled away from her mouth and trailed hungry kisses down the side of her throat as he reached down between them and fumbled at the waistband of his pajama pants. Lola arched her back and basked in his affection like a cat in a bar of sunshine. "Oh, Lincy," she sighed, then sucked a deep breath when his head prodded against her. He cupped her face in his hands and stared down into her eyes - he exhaled, she inhaled, his fragrant breath making her drunk.

He kissed her lips, her nose, her chin, losing control, giving into passion, his hips rocking now and his tip poking mindlessly between her folds. She hooked her feet over his ankles and reached for his rod, finding it and guiding it to her opening, then pulling her hand away and gripping his flexing muscles. The head squeezed in just a fraction of an inch, and Lola hissed through her teeth - though she'd been having sex with her brother for close to a month now, being penetrated always stung a little at first. Lincoln threaded his fingers into her hair and pulled, bringing tears to her eyes and a pleasured whine to her lips. She jerked her hips up, and he sank into her, his length spreading her walls and filling her so completely she felt like she was going to rip.

Taking his hands away from her face, Lincoln splayed them on the bed and started to thrust, head down, muscles rippling; Lola pressed her hands against his chest and moved with him, him down, her up, the hooked head of his dick raking her as a hoe rakes a garden.

She was already close, her orgasm heavy in her center and building pressure with each stroke. And ran her hands up Lincoln's chest and dug her nails into his shoulders, one leg lifting, then the other, in a V now, her pink polished toes curling in blistering ecstasy. "F-Faster," she panted.

Lincoln increased his speed - the bed squeaked and groaned. Thrust, thrust, thurst, each kiss of his head against her cervix inching her to the point of no return. She wrapped her legs around his hips and braced her heels against his butt, no longer moving, simply holding him close, desperate to take him as deep as she could, to keep him in.

Panting, he pressed his forehead to hers and took a deep breath through his nose, savoring her clean scent. His lips claimed hers, and their tongues flopped clumsily against one another as he swelled inside of her, pushing her pelvis apart in sweet agony.

When his boiling seed flooded her womb, she tumbled over the edge, her mind scattering as white heat consumed her, every nerve ending in her body catching fire and her heart stopping for the briefest of moments as the tide of her climax lifted her to nirvana. Her walls clamped down on his pumping shaft, and they cried out in unison, her freezing stiff, and his thrusting slowing, slowing, stopping, his rod still spitting molten lead into her depths.

Lola rode her climax like a wave, eyes closed, lids fluttering, face red, lips pursed and tiny hums bursting from her working throat. Her orgasm was a flash in the night, and slowly, the skies cooled, the fire faded, leaving her warm and sloshy, her brother's seed pooling in her deepest chambers like lava, its heat spreading, enfolding her like a passionate embrace under a comfy blanket.

She opened her eyes and gazed lovingly up at her brother - his face was flush, a stray moonbeam glinted on his sweat-sheened features. He licked his lips and pulled gently out in a rush of their mingled fluids. Lola hated this part - if being penetrated stung, so did the cold emptiness she felt after he withdrew. Sitting up, he grabbed his pants from the floor and yanked them on. Lola lifted her butt, pulled her dress down, and squeezed her thighs closed to trap him inside - warm milk to help her sleep.

Lincoln got to his feet and turned, his eyes falling on her blushing face - her eyes were hazy and lidded, her blonde hair messy and the silky material of her gown wrinkled and bunched. A dark patch was already beginning to form at her crotch, and moonlight sparkled on a stray dollop of cum that must have dripped from his head and onto her knee when he pulled out.

A slow, sleepy smile danced across Lola's face, and his heart swelled with love. Bending over, he brushed her hair out of her eyes and placed a brotherly kiss on her lips. "Goodnight," he said.

She kissed him back, her tongue flicking out and touching his in fleeting adieu. "Goodnight, Lincy~"

He brushed his thumb along the ridge of her eyebrows, then left, pulling the door softly shut behind him.

Alone, Lola snuggled up on her side, hugged her pillow, and fell instantly asleep.

With a smile.