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Love Is In The Air	By : LordKuyohashi Category: +S through Z > Simpsons Views: 18605 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own The Simpsons, or any related characters, and neither accept nor receive any monetary or compensatory reward for this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
A/N - This is my first attempt at smut, so...ye be warned.
I've not mentioned ages, they're however old you wish them to be, ya sickos. And there is some mention of M/M, but it's not the focus. If that's important, I'll amend the tags accordingly, let me know. And if this does well, maybe there will be more, IDK.
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“-Out of Springfield has been shut down for miles, after two tankers collided with each other and halted traffic all the way to Ogdenville, spilling unknown chemicals all over the road. Federal authorities have been called to the site, but–”
Bart Simpson’s hand swatted at the alarm clock-radio by his bed, mumbling incoherently into his sweat-soaked pillow. He nestled back into his bed, trying in vain to return to sleep, but found his bedroom too hot, too stifling. He slowly rolled himself to his feet, stretched his arms up, and clumsily made his way to his window, pushing the stiff frame open and sliding an old school book under it to hold it in place. A slight and gentle breeze wafted into the room, carrying the smell of something sweet and heady with it, and Bart stuck his head outside, desperate for the touch of any cooling breeze, no matter how meagre. He closed his eyes, absorbing whatever relief from the heat he could get, and inhaled sharply, sucking in more of the strange smell hanging on the wind. He let out a cough, ducked back inside, and went off to empty his bladder, then downstairs for breakfast.
Lisa reached up absently to scratch her throat, finding the nape of her neck a swampy mire of sweat. She wrinkled her nose in sleepy disgust, and made a noise that surprised her awake. She sat up slowly, blinking through the summer sunlight streaming through her window, and clucked her dry tongue. She rose from the bed, made her way to the window, and slid it open, locking it in place before she turned around and went to wait for Bart to be done in the bathroom.
As she waited, dancing from foot to foot impatiently, her own bladder stinging and burning in urgency, she tapped on the door with her fist, “Bart, hurry up for God’s sake!”
The toilet flushed, and the water ran briefly from the sink, and the door opened up, giving Lisa the shocking sight of Bart, still sluggish from sleep, his cock sticking rigidly from the flap in his pyjamas. Before Lisa could say anything, her own need made her push him aside, closing the door behind her. “Fuck.” Bart muttered softly, having finally realised that he had slipped out of his pants when a breeze from his bedroom window made it’s way into the hall and caressed his hard cock, and he quickly tucked himself back inside, his ears turning red in embarrassment at the thought that Lisa might have gotten a peek at his piece.
Bart found Homer sitting lazily on the couch, watching the morning news on the television, a breakfast beer in his hand. Summer had started, and it started with a vengeance; barely nine o’clock and already the air inside the Simpson residence was a suffocating wall of heat. Bart planted himself next to his groggy father, listening to the sound of his mother Marge in the kitchen, moving pans around and closing the fridge.
“Homer,” Marge’s voice rose up over the sound of bacon starting to sizzle, “can you get this window open for me? It’s a sauna in here, and I want to get some air in to cool off.”
Homer only stared vacantly at the tv, watching as a helicopter-shot drew over the site of a major highway collision, two tanker trucks folded in against each other, a lake of black liquid pooling around both and police placing barricades and redirecting the backed-up traffic.
“Homer!” Marge’s voice was sharper and more annoyed now. Lisa had come downstairs, straightening out her nightgown, and she plopped on the floor just in time to see her father peel himself off the hot, sticky couch and amble into the kitchen.
“Marge,” Homer whined, “it’s too hot to…you wanted me to open a jar of pickles, right?”
“The window, Homer. Open the window.”
The kids heard their dad grunting in effort, then the rigid shifting of the window frame as it slide open, some muttered cursing as Homer tried to juggle the window sill and his elbow and something to prop up the sill with.
“If it’s so hot in here, Marge, why are you making a hot breakfast? Cereal would have been fine.”
“Because somebody let the milk go bad and we have to finish off the bacon by today. Besides, I like…”
Marge trailed off as the curtains bellowed inwards, a soothing wind wafting in. She inhaled contentedly, then wrinkled her nose at something.
“ Phew! Smells like someone lit a perfume factory on fire. What is that?”
Homer sucked in a snootful of air, and thought for a bit. “Ugh, I dunno, but it’s awful. Let me shut the window, get that stink out of here!”
“No, don’t! It’s sweltering in here. We can put up with a little bad smell, we’ll get used to it, like we get used to how Grampa smells. I just want some cool air in here before I sweat myself to death!”
Homer grumbled, and sneezed out the smell of burning sweetness from his nose. He sat at the table, watching Marge tend to her cooking, her hips swaying absently, her butt moving back and forth hypnotically, and Homer grinned stupidly, his eyes glazing over in bliss.
Lisa’s gaze was fixed on the tv screen, a slight smile on her lips. She had shifted positions onto her stomach, and began kicking her leg back and forth absently, humming softly to herself as some nebulous thoughts filled her head. From his spot on the couch, Bart could see his sister’s nightgown bunching up with every swing of her leg. He took a deep breath, barely noticing the smell coming from outside, and bit his lip, eyes glued to Lisa’s gown as it climbed higher up her body.
Swing.
Higher.
Swing.
Higher.
Swing.
Bart licked his lips. His eyes widened, nearly bulging, his cock threatening to pop out of his pyjamas again, as Lisa’s nightgown finally climbed up over her round ass, exposing her bare, bald slit. Bart fought back the urge to let out a groan, and shifted his pants to try and hide his rigid boner, unable to pull his eyes away from Lisa’s exposed cunt.
Lisa’s smile stretched across her face dumbly. She took a deep breath, and felt relaxed, and warm and content, and honestly, a little tingly in her stomach. She let out an airy little giggle, not even knowing it had escaped her lips, and continued kicking her leg happily, unaware of the show she was giving her brother and just enjoying the sweet scent coming from outside.
Homer rose up from his seat at the kitchen table, and moved behind Marge, his hands gripping tightly on her hips. He pressed himself against her, his bulging cock pushed against her ass, and nuzzled at her neck.
“Homie! What are you doing, the kids are in the next room!”
Homer only grumbled incoherently, kissing her neck. Marge gasped, filling her lungs with faintly sweet-smelling air, and suddenly melted against her husband’s body, warmth and bliss washing over her. Suddenly the kids being in the next room didn’t seem so important - she could be quiet, after all, and they were distracted by the tv - and even the bacon crisping on the stovetop didn’t seem to matter much. She fumbled at the burner dial, turned it down, and pulled Homer towards the counter, her eyes glassy and distant as she pressed him into the corner and slipped her hand down his pants, cupping his heavy balls in her grip.
Bart licked his lips, and slowly moved his foot down off the couch, careful not to make any noise. He inched his bare foot towards his sister’s cunny, slowly, methodically, meticulously moving it closer and closer, anxious not to spook her until it was too late. He watched her gaze, vacantly focused on the flickering lights and colours coming from the tv, and gently nudged his big toe against her slit. A light gasp rose up from her lips, and she shifted away briefly, before deciding she liked whatever had touched her, and pushed back against the invading toe. Bart let out a small chuckle, and pushed his toe further into Lisa’s pussy, feeling her moist lips part. His cock throbbed achingly, and his hand reached for it, fishing it out of his pyjamas and gripping it roughly, stroking it slowly.
Lisa wiggled her lower half without thinking, embracing the sweet pressure of whatever it was that was pressing against her. She vaguely thought that something smelled like bacon, and maybe she heard some gagging sounds from the kitchen, but nothing mattered except how warm and happy and tingly she felt. Bart pressed on, sliding his big toe along the length of her slickening cunt, slowly teasing and torturing his little sister, as she mindlessly began to quiver at his touch. A small spark of intelligence managed to bubble to the surface in Lisa’s fogged-out brain; “B-Bart,” she managed to breathe out, “wh-what are you doing?”
Bart grinned, a dumb, distant grin, the lights clearly on but only instinct being home.
“Toe-fucking you, Lees.”
“Ba-a-a-a-rt,” her voice was strange and airy, like she was drunk or high. She pushed her glistening slit back against Bart’s foot, protesting without actually denying his advances, “we can’t do th-a-a-a-t”
“Sure I can, Lees; see, I have this toe - ten of them, in fact - and you have the pussy, so if I fuck your pussy with my toe, I can toe-fuck you.”
Bart’s own words were stilted and fuzzy, and came out in thick, uneasy drawls. His cock was hot and pulsing in his hand as he stared at his sister’s moist cunt.
“No, I mean, I’m your sister, you - oh!” Bart’s big toe pushed right into Lisa’s pussy, popping inside and making her head swoon.
“Mff…no, Bart...Mom and Dad…”
Marge heard her daughter’s voice through a landscape of confusion and haze. She pulled Homer’s hard cock from her precum-soaked lips, and half-turned back to the living room.
“Mmwhat was that, um…honey?”
Homer turned his wife’s head back to his aching cock, pushing it into her hungry, welcoming mouth. Lisa only managed to croak out, “N-nothing, Mom.”
Any thoughts or worries Marge might have had were subsumed under the heady taste of Homer’s dick as she resumed throating it as deeply as she could.
Lisa managed to turn herself onto her back, and experience which sent waves of sensation crashing through her as she twisted her cunt on Bart’s foot. She looked up at him, stroking his hard cock while staring at her like a starving man staring at a steak.
“Oh god, Bart, what are–”
Her words stopped up in her throat as Bart pushed against her clit. He leered at her as she gasped, then collapsed ehr head against the carpet, panting.
Homer yanked Marge to her feet, and spun her around without a word, hiking up her dress and tearing at her sopping wet panties. She leaned weakly against the counter, panting like a bitch in heat, head swimming with excitement, until she felt Homer push his fat cockhead against her soaked cunt. “Shit, Homer, wait!”
Homer only grunted, too horny to understand her protests, until she pushed him away, and straightened out her dress.
“Hey kids,“ she called out to the living room, “it’s a nice day out, why don’t you go play outside and I’ll call you when breakfast is ready.” Homer pulled himself close to Marge, his cock rubbing between her thighs, his thick, stubby fingers groping almost painfully at her breast as he lifted her right arm, ducked his head under, and nibbled on her elbow, causing her to quiver into a puddle.
Lisa had been able to pull herself away from Bart, from the mind-blowing pleasure her own brother had given her, and struggled to rise to her feet.
“Bart, stop…Mom said-”
Bart jumped to his feet, cock bobbing as he moved, and quickly propped Lisa’s faltering body against his own.
“Yeah, Lees, she told us to go outside. I know just the place. C’mon, I’ll help you up.”
Lisa leaned against Bart, her face flushed and warm, and with his hand on her ass, he lead her to the back door.
“Me and Lisa are going out to play, Mom. Don’t worry about breakfast, we’ll come in when we’re hungry.”
Marge only groaned as Homer’s fat thumb found her clit and began rubbing it in deep, small circles, making her head swim. She vaguely heard the door open and close, then only heard her own heartbeat. She pulled Homer’s face to hers, his eyes wide and wild with lust, and hissed out, “Oh god, Homer, fuck me like a whore!”
Bart led Lisa up the plank ladder to the treehouse. She had tried to squirm away, but her resolve seemed to evaporate with every breath she took, until the only part of her body that was doing any thinking was her drenched cunt. Once inside the treehouse, Lisa collapsed to the floor, squeezing her thighs together while Bart kicked off his pyjamas, standing before his sister stark naked and fully, almost painfully, erect.
Lisa cooed, reaching out for Bart’s hard, throbbing cock.
“God, Bart, did I do that to you? It looks so…so fucking yummy!”
She didn’t waste any time wrapping her lips around her brother’s meat, clumsily sucking on it. Bart moaned as he felt Lisa’s tongue squeeze his knob against the roof of her mouth, her drool running down his balls. As Lisa swallowed Bart’s cock, he looked down across the backyard, into the kitchen window, where Marge had propped her ass up onto the counter, Homer driving away into her cunt like a wild animal. The sight of his parents fucking stirred something inside of him, and he pushed his cock deeper into his sister’s tight throat, resting his balls on her chin and making her choke and sputter around his thick root.
“Damn, Lisa, you should see how hard Mom is taking Homer’s dick. He’s really fuck it into her like a maniac!”
Lisa slid Bart’s cock from her mouth, coughing up thick gouts of drool and cum and gasping for air. “Bart, I -”a loud, echoing belch interrupted her “- I want to get fucked. I want to be a brother fucker, Bart. I’m so fucking hot, please stick it in me and cool me off!”
If Lisa had been thinking clearly, she might ask why she was so horny. Why Bart was so eager to fuck his own sister, and why their parents seemed more focused on sex than on them. If her brain functioned as anything more than the organ that told her to fuck, she might question if what was happening in her household were happening anywhere else in Springfield.
Right next door, not twenty feet from where Lisa was begging Bart to fuck her, Rod and Todd Flanders were wrestling on the couch, both naked. Rod was on top of his brother, driving his thin, hard pecker into the smaller boy’s ass like a piston. Todd hadn’t said anything in a while, or done anything, except for drool onto the throw pillows and occasionally blink. Upstairs, their father Ned was in the shower, stroking his cock while imagining his two late wives on their knees, servicing him.
A block away, Kirk Van Houten was on his own knees, his wife Luanne driving her rubber dildo into his ass. They pretended not to hear their son Milhouse grunting and panting in the closet as he spied on his parents.
Dr. Julius Hibbard was riding his receptionist into another crashing orgasm.
Barney Gumble wiped the last streaks of Moe’s load from his lips, washing it down with another pull on his beer.
And Wayland Smithers was in Heaven, underneath Mr. Burns’ desk, coaxing the centenarian's withered old cock into his mouth, while Burns imagined he was thrusting into his boyhood crush, Myrna Loy.
But none of that matters, because back at the Simpson treehouse, Bart was teaching Lisa how to suck his cock properly. She listened with rapt attention as he instructed her to pull her lips over her teeth, and how to run her tongue under his shaft. She fiddled with her cunt as she listened to her brother’s every word, only looking away when their mother became too loud to ignore, which only served to make the girl even more eager to get her pussy ruined by her brother. She buried her face against Bart’s balls as he stroked a thin thread of precum into her hair, massaging his nuts with her tongue, begging with her eyes to be ruined by her brother’s cock.
“Please, Bart, please give it to me,” she whined, swirling her tongue along Bart’s cock, locking eyes with her big brother. She moved onto her back, legs splayed open, and lifted her nightgown up over her belly, showing off her leaking slit. “See how hot I am? I need you to fuck me, Bart. Make me a brother-fucker, Bart, please.”
Bart stared at the droplets of moisture running along the outer lips of Lisa’s bare pussy, his mouth agape, and almost robotically, he dropped to his knees, and pressed his face into his sister’s crotch, rubbing her leaking fluids against his cheek before planting his mouth over her wet cunt. Lisa let out a sharp yelp, as if she had stepped on a thumb tack, as Bart swirled his thick tongue inside her cunt, making her already foggy head swim.
Bart sucked and slurped at Lisa’s pussy, inhaling her heady musk as she writhed and wriggled against his mouth. She tasted sweet and salty at the same time, and mixed with the sweetness coming in on the breeze, it all combined to make Bart’s cock so achingly hard that it was painful.
Lisa was in just as much pain as Bart. Her pussy was pulsating hungrily, dying to be filled with heat and hardness, and her womb cried out for a thick, fertile load to flood it’s chambers.
She pushed her hips up to meet her brother’s probing tongue, grinding her wet cunt against his face, biting her lip as her nerves caught on fire. She popped her head up to see back into the house, and saw Marge, stark naked, being used as a sextoy by Homer, who was lifting her up and down on the thickest, fattest cock Lisa could have imagined. The sight of her mother being cored out by that monstrous appendage made her insides quiver, and with a shriek, she drenched Bart’s face in a blast of pussy juice, slumping onto her back and gasping for air..
Bart pulled away quickly, coughing and swallowing as much of his sister’s squirt as he could, rubbing some out of his eye.
“Shit, Lisa, you fucking got it all over me. I didn’t know girls could go off like that!”
Lisa growled at her brother like an animal, pulling him closer with her legs, and drawing his attention to the kitchen window.
“Bart, I want you to use me like that. Like how Dad is using Mom. I want to be your personal pussy, Bart, only yours. Fuck me, fill me, breed me, own me. I want you to wreck my cunt so everyone knows who I belong to.”
Bart sucked his lips clean, savouring the tang of his sister’s twat, and lowered his gaze sinisterly.
“Beg me.”
“Wh-what?”
“Beg. Me. To. Fuck. You.”
“Bart, I am begging. Look at me. Look at your sister, I’m naked, splayed out, on my back, begging my brother to fuck me like a fucking animal until he’s marked me as his property. Please, for fuck’s sake, if I don’t take your dick soon I’m gonna fucking lose it!”
Bart only glared at her, grinning wickedly, slapping his hard, throbbing cock against her soaked slit. Lisa was panting like she had run a marathon, her pussy pulsating with hunger, burning with desire, until she grunted and dropped her head back to the floor of the treehouse.
“Fine! Fine, you sadistic bastard! Please, Bart, your little sister is begging you to ram that glorious fucking cock into her soft, tight cunt and fuck her like the brother-fucking cumrag slut she is! Fucking seed me, you teasing asshole!”
“That’s…alright, I suppose.”
“Are you shitting me? You have your sister ripe and eager to be railed like a two dollar whore, promising to be your personal fuckpuppet, begging you to knock her the absolute fuck up, and it’s still not enough for you? Do I need to shoot fireworks out of my twat to make you interested, or do you just enjoy watching my sanity drip out of my pussy and down my thighs?”
Bart leaned over her, his cockhead pressing against Lisa’s weeping pussy lips, his bare chest sliding against her soft tits and rigid nipples, still grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
“Well, that is fun to watch. You’re adorable when you squirm. But honestly, I like it more when you talk dirty. Really makes me hot.”
Lisa gasped at the touch of Bart’s rod, pulling her legs further apart to give him better access.
“Damn it, Bart, use me and I’ll say any fucking thing you want me to, just fuck my tight, leaking cunt until your balls explode and fill me up with your hot, sticky baby juice.”
Bart growled, smiling, and buried his face into Lisa’s neck, pulling himself into her with one thrust. Lisa threw her arms around Bart, letting out a sharp yelp as he tore through her barrier and made her full with his hot cock. Bart waited a few seconds, enjoying his sister’s tight, massaging hole, then began pushing in and out of her with short, quick thrusts, the treehouse swaying in time with his motions. Lisa humped upwards, matching her brother’s thrusts into her, her fingers digging into the meat of his tight, flexing ass.
++++++++++++++++++++++
Marge lifted her head out of the empty sink, where it had rested briefly to recover from the shock of having Homer squeeze his thick manhood into her tight asshole. The pain had been intense, but it was gone now, and all that remained was the joy and pleasure of being used, of being a whore. Her head lolled about her shoulders as Homer mercilessly fucked into her ass, but she stopped when she noticed the tree in the backyard moving.
“Homer, look, th-the tree--” she wheezed out as her husband stretched her ass wider with his fat dick.
Homer only grunted, short wheezing breaths punctuating his efforts to cram more of himself into his wife’s asshole.
“Busy. Sodomising. Enjoy splendour of nature’s beauty later, after nut.”
“No, Homer, look at the tree in the yard. It’s…”
Homer reached under his swaying ballsack, and roughly pushed his thick, calloused thumb against Marge’s stiff, throbbing clit, sending electricity up her spine and making the muscles in her back and neck melt. She flopped back into the sink, moaning incoherently.
“Oh hey, the tree in the backyard is moving. What the hell is that all about, Marge?”
Marge mumbled something into the sink drain, limply raised her hand, then flopped it back down to her side, too entranced by the crashing orgasms wracking her body.
“I bet somebody is in the treehouse, fucking like a couple of minks right now.”
If Marge’s eyes hadn’t already rolled into her head, she’d be doing it herself. Fuck, he was dumb, but at least he knew how to use that dick of his, she thought.
++++++++++++++++++++++

The treehouse creaked as it swayed under Bart’s forceful incestuous pistoning into Lisa’s clenching pussy. Through gritted teeth, he muttered and moaned how tight Lisa’s cunt was on his shaft, how hot and wet and good she was, how he was going to knock her up and ruin her entire life just so he could get his nut off.
Lisa’s brain had short circuited shortly after Bart had fully impaled her on his brotherly cock, her vocabulary reduced to panting curse words, nonsensical gibberings, and gurgling moans rising up from her throat, whenever Bart wasn’t tongue-fucking her gasping, drooling mouth. Bite marks pocked along Lisa’s neck, down to her tits and around her stiff nipples, gifts from her brother as he filled her with incestuous cock. Everytime he slammed it home, everytime he bottomed out in her needy cunt, flashes of coloured light exploded in her vision; her head swirled with the sensation of being her own brother’s whore, his seedbed and his woman. She giggled stupidly at that idea, being his woman, as he rammed into her like a beast.
I wonder if that would make me my own sister-in-law? She thought in one of the few and brief moments of clarity that crossed her fucked-out mind. Mostly, though, the only thought that occurred to her, Oh fuck deeper fuck me deeper cock and balls and cum and brother-fucking incest babies fuck my cunt cock so good ruin pussy.
Lisa’s ass thumped against the treehouse floor with every inward thrust of Bart’s pelvis, rhythmically slapping in time to the sound of their bodies coming together, punctuated with their shallow, heaving breaths.
Finally, the dam broke - Lisa pulled Bart into an all-devouring kiss as his cock stiffened up, his back went rigid, and he howled from the depths of his chest as he finally came. Lisa could actually hear her brother’s cum erupting from his cock and into her grasping cunt, and the sensation of her womb being splattered with her brother’s seed sent her own nerves into a meltdown, her grunting, animalistic groans giving way to shrill, hiccuping shrieks of orgasmic fury. Deeper and faster, Bart pumped into his sister’s babychamber, filling it, rutting into her over and over, until his pace began to slow, his thrusts stilted and gradual, and then finally, spent and empty and satisfied, he rolled onto his back, his wilting, reddened prick popping from Lisa’s greasy, cum-flooded twat with a wet sound, his breathing short and ragged. Lisa panted and gasped for air, her lungs filling with the sweet Springfield air that seemed to light the fire that led to her incestuous ravaging, and when she had found a dram of strength left in her limbs, she rolled over to look at Bart, the wet warmth in her belly spreading throughout her entire body. Bart lay there, his eyes closed, his own breathing slow and measured, his body glistening with sweat. A soft snore rose from his lips, and Lisa curled a smile on her own, her eyes drifting down to the cock that had just dominated her like a bitch. She reached out for it, touched it, felt the warmth and wetness, and with a mischievous giggle, she ducked down and took her brother into her mouth, relishing their mixed flavours as she sucked him back to full mast. When she was satisfied that Bart was stiff enough, she threw her leg over his waist, his knob aimed at her bruised and battered pussy lips, and slowly lowered herself onto his erect shaft.
“You might be done, Bart,” she said breathlessly, “but I’m not. You marked me as yours, now I’m going to do the same to you, my sweet sister-fucking brother.”
++++++++++++++++++++++
It was well after lunchtime when Lisa finally climbed down from the treehouse. Her legs were sore and uneasy, her gait stilted and clumsy from her hours-long ride on her brother’s cock. She had to pee like she wouldn’t believe, and a snack would be nice too, she thought, so she headed inside, utterly unconcerned with the thick globs of incest-cum running down her legs.
She found her parents still in the kitchen, naked and asleep on the floor. Marge had draped herself over Homer’s chest, his cock still buried inside her cunt. Lisa stepped over them, careful not to wake them, and opened the fridge, grabbing a carrot and pouring herself some apple juice, then heading to the living room. The tv was still on, had been on this entire time, set to the 24-hour news channel. Some reporter was talking to some guy in a suit about some crash somewhere and blah blah blah, Lisa couldn’t care less. She was happy and full and if it wasn’t Bart filling her little cunt with his swimmers and knocking her up, she honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck. So with a shrug, she snapped the tv off, and went upstairs to the bathroom, contentedly chewing on her carrot.
++++++++++++++++++++++
The site director stepped into the FEMA field office trailer parked a hundred yards from the scene of the crash. The freeway had been barricaded off, and traffic redirected to offramps, while investigators in yellow hazmat suits took samples and recorded the scene. The director passed through a decontamination arch, cleaning solution and cold water rinsing any trace of the chemical spill off the suit, then he pulled it off, stepped out of decon, and pulled his phone out of the shielded box it had been placed in for safety.
“This is Kowalski, get me the Administrator. Sir?
Yeah, they’ve just finished preliminary tests on the Springfield collision. It’s…not good. We got two tanker trucks in a head-on, cargo spilled all over the tarmac.
The contents? Have a seat, it’s bad. One of the trucks was carrying a load of hydrexymethaltetrafluorozine. It’s sort of an all-purpose chemical, used in shit like rocket fuel, embalming fluid, and the artificial mint flavouring they use in toothpaste. Bad, bad stuff. It dissolves organic tissue on contact.
The other truck?
Okay, that’s where things are gonna get weird. The other truck was carrying - get this - caramel.
Like, a tanker full of caramel syrup. The stuff you put on ice cream? Yeah, that.
Yeah, yeah, we all had a good laugh, too. It’s stupid, right? Well, one of our people, Dr. Margot Jeng? She said that was only marginally better than just having the HMTF spill on its own. Seems that when you mix HMTF with processed sucrose, like you’d find in caramel, you get some strong psychotropic aphrodisiac. Non-lethal, but the shit works on nearly any human, and it’s effective in doses of 0.0002 parts per million. Not only that, but if mixed with adrenaline, its psychosexual effects can become permanent. Basically, it makes anyone who breathes it in impossibly horny, prone to instinctual pair-bonding, and more than willing to ignore social mores.
I don’t know how she knew all that, I guess they did some experiments at Berkeley in the ‘60’s or something.
What’s that mean? Well, sir, it means that whatever town is downwind is going to have a baby boom in a few months, and it’s never going to stop.”
++++++++++++++++++++++
Bart wandered into the house, limping slightly and looking around for Lisa. His cock was limp and cold and missing it’s tight, wet resting place. He spied his parents on the kitchen floor, sound asleep, and gave them an approving smile. It was good to see them happy, not fighting or arguing like they sometimes did. This was how they should be, how everyone should be, he thought. Naked, happy, with empty balls and full pussies.
The floorboard upstairs creaked, and Bart’s smile grew wider. His exposed cock jumped at the thought. Lisa was upstairs. Maybe he’d surprise her with another few rounds. Maybe he’d peg her ass, this time. She’d like that, he was sure. Especially if he ate her ass out, first.
He slowly climbed the stairs, his hand stroking his cock back to full glory.
“Lisa,” he called out, “I hope you’re not too tired for some more brother-cock!”
He stood outside her bedroom door, listening to the sound of her bedspring squeaking as she jumped up to let him in. She opened the door, her face flushed, the smell of her pussy hanging thick in the air, her fingers slick with her own oils, and a lustful smile on her face.
“God, Bart, you’re a monster. Come to use me some more? Didn't you get enough in the treehouse?”
Bart took a deep breath, letting the sweet air from outside mingled with the scent of Lisa’s sex fill his lungs, and chuckled.
“Oh little sister, I can never have too much of you.”
Lisa led him into her room, their mouths clasped together, tongues entwined, and Bart gently kicked the door shut.
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Love Is In The Air