He kissed me last night. Just a chaste kiss, but for the moment it was enough. I know it’s wrong to want him, but how can I resist? Society says I shouldn’t feel like this about him, but to live with someone for so very long, surely these feelings must arise. Shouldn’t they?
I see him each morning as he staggers down stairs, still half asleep, blinking in the harsh light that streams in though the large hall room window as he tries to enter the waking world and I begin to wonder: What did he dream about? Was it me? God, I hope so. Did he wish I was there with him as he slept? My body curled about him, my front against his back, my breasts pushing into him, arousing him, making him forget that I’m his . . . No, I don’t want to say it even in my thoughts; society’s condemnation creeps once more into my head.
How can I not want him? He is my flesh and blood after all. We share the same genes, the same wants and needs. If God didn’t want me to feel like this why did he make him so beautiful?
Does he know? I’ve lost count on how many times I’ve asked myself. As he notices my eyes on him, does he realise how I yearn for him? His touch, his caress. The feel of his body as he breathes in the night, rising and falling in time with mine? I see him as he rises, his cock hard with an early morning erection; the knowing that’s it’s not for me, but the need to piss that makes him hard. It doesn’t matter though.
I imagine that it’s him that enters me, that first time, pushing though the barrier that signals the difference between girl and woman; but it’s not to be. That happened a while ago, with a pimply faced bahis firmaları youth, but I was imagining that it was him, even then.
I lay on my bed, listening to him shower, imagining him, naked, soaping down his body, allowing his hand to linger at his groin just a little longer than necessary. I could do that for him; gently massage the highly perfumed gel onto his chest, stretching up, ever so slightly, to reach his manly chest. Feel his nipples erect under my fingers and his cock swelling between us.
I would pull him tight against me; being almost a foot taller than me, his cock would linger just below my tits, but only for a few seconds. I’d bend my knees slightly until he nestled between my swellings. I’d squeeze my breasts together, trapping his manliness between them, then I’d rock. The soap would provide our lubrication as he tit fucked me.
I’d hear him groan and knowing how close he was, I’d stop. Rinsing off the foam, I’d slide down further, his hard rod brushing my lips, me smiling up at him as I opened my mouth and his cock slid in. Closing my eyes, my hands would slip behind him, pulling him deeper into my mouth. I’d stay still for a while to allow the sensations to wash over me, but he would be too close, too impatient. His hands would grip my head as his hips swung, fucking my mouth.
My lips would curl around his erection, protecting him from my teeth. The thought of hurting him frightens me; he might not want me again. I’d hear him groan again, louder this time, and feel his cock swell a little more. I’d wait, knowing what was to come, preparing myself for his ejaculate.
His kaçak iddaa movements would pause then he’d flood my mouth. His cum would taste sweet as it slid down my throat. I’d wish he would never stop filling me with his seed, our seed, but he does and I feel his cock shrinking. I’d roll it around on my tongue, hoping it would swell again for me, but he pulls back and exits.
I hear the shower stop; the moment’s gone. Soon I’ll hear him leave the bathroom and enter his own bedroom. How I wish he would come into mine. To see him stand at the end of my bed, still rosy from the heat of the water before he moves towards me, excites me more. My hand would play at my groin for him, let him watch the intimacy as I masturbate for him, only for him.
But it could never be . . . he is, after all, my brother.
* * *
We kissed last night. A chaste kiss, but how I wish it could be different: I’d take her into my arms, pull her tight against my body and kiss her properly. My tongue would invade her mouth, play inside with hers. My hands would cover the buds I’d seen grow and blossom over the years until they filled my palms.
I’d unbutton her blouse and slide my hands inside. The bare, soft flesh would excite me, causing me to swell between us. She’d smile up at me as she feels my arousal, then she’d stand back from me and undress. Finishing what I’d started, the blouse would end up a crumpled heap on the floor. Braless, she’d stand before me, her nipples firm and jutting. I’d move towards her, but she’d stand back again as if playing catch like we used to as children.
She’d wriggle out of her jeans, leaving kaçak bahis her secret place covered in a wisp of bright, red cloth. Moving towards me she’d reach down to release me before wrapping her slender fingers around my hard erection. I’d groan and tear off my shirt, desperate to be naked for her. She’d laugh at my clumsiness, then help.
I’d reach, with both hands, to one side of her thong, snapping the thin cord that held it in place, and pull it free from her. Her arousal causes it to stick between her legs for a moment as if reluctant to be parted from her, then it accepts the inevitable and floats to the ground.
She stands naked before me, her downy bush mirroring the blond of her head, sparse enough for me to see the folds of her pussy lips. She giggles as I sweep her up into my arms and carry her to my bedroom.
I’d lay her gently on my bed, her legs folding over the edge, and I’d bend my mouth to her tight slit. Her nectar tastes sweet and thick; I lick and slurp it down, the aroma heady and intoxicating. Her clit peeps out, shyly, and I welcome it, sucking and licking on the hard button until she writhes below me.
I can wait no longer, and as my head licks its way to her full breasts, my cock finds its position and slips into her. Her cunt muscles grip me and I pause until she releases me slightly. I move inside her, slowly at first, then faster. My mouth leaves her nipple and I look down at her. Her eyes are closed; a smile plays about her lips as I drive on.
A groan, a pant, then a grimace as she cums. She opens her eyes and looks into mine.
“Yes . . . yes . . . now, cum now,” she whispers, and my cock pulses hard, spurting its load deep into her, filling her moist cavern and seeping out over my tightly encased penis.
But it could never be . . . she is, after all, my sister.