Part 04
Daddy had just fucked me - again. It was wonderful. We had made love (and that's exactly what it was!) enough by now that it didn't cause me any pain, whatsoever, except for a slight soreness afterward. Yes, it was good; it was wonderful; it was exhausting; it made me want to just lay there as if I was coming down from a drug-induced haze (I'm just guessing about this, as I have never done drugs).
But no! Jeff, my big brother, was home. He was getting out of his car and would be in the house within seconds. Daddy and I were naked in Daddy's bed! Think! I grabbed the tee-shirt that I had brought, realized that I didn't have time to even put my panties or anything else on, and dashed upstairs to my room. There, I hurriedly put on the rest of my clothes and combed my disheveled hair. I still looked like I had been in bed, but I could claim I had just had a nap.
I heard the front door swing open. "Dad? Pammy?" Jeff yelled.
The door slammed shut and I heard Dad say, "Jeff, son! I didn't know you were coming in."
I thought about running down and jumping into Jeff's arms, but then I remembered that I was pissed off at him. More than pissed off. Disappointed. Hurt. Humiliated. You see, my Mom had gotten killed on my 18th birthday. Of course we were all devastated, but I actually feared that my father might do himself harm because of his deep grief. He wouldn't eat or talk to us and was in a very deep depression. I had asked Jeff to stay home from college for a semester, but he had adamantly refused.
There's more to the story. I was so distraught and flat-out scared to death that I couldn't imagine having to deal with Daddy alone. I was very attracted to Jeff, and he obviously was very attracted to me. He had even tried to play with my tits the day we buried our mother! So, when Jeff refused to stay and help me deal with our father, I played the sex card. I offered my virginity to him. And he refused. I know that sounds desperate and unrealistic, but I WAS desperate and people will do strange things in moments of extreme grief and despair.
I was fine with him refusing to fuck me. I didn't think I was ready for that yet and I had always been taught to save myself for marriage. But if he really loved me, if he was the kind of man that I assumed he was, he should have been willing to stay and help his little sister and his father in our time of deepest grief. I was hurt, and I hadn't gotten over it.
We had barely even spoken in the several months since Mom's passing. He texted me now and then and even emailed me sometimes. He had apologized, but had used the same selfish explanations as to why he couldn't sit out one semester of college. He now had a girlfriend. They had visited us once and she had slept in my room with me. I assumed they were having sex, but I didn't know for sure. Still, my brother would never have presumed that it was okay for his girlfriend to stay in his room in our parents' home. We were not raised that way.
Jeff was a nerd. Mom had told me, way back that he was probably on the autism spectrum a little bit. Maybe he was; I don't know. It wasn't something we ever discussed. He was often in his own world and if he were busy with something he was so focused that he was unaware of anything going on around him. Math was his thing and it was his major in college. My mother was a math teacher, and my dad was also good at math, so it kinda ran in the family. I had also decided that I wanted to become a math teacher, to honor my mother and because I liked it. But Jeff blew me away. What I could do on paper and a calculator, he could often do in his head. He had a hard time explaining how he got an answer. I was good at explaining, which is why I was going to be a great teacher - like my mom.
Jeff was also very nice looking. He wasn't a heavily muscled athlete, but was tall and slender with a handsome face, brown hair, brown eyes, and an attractive smile. In that regard, he looks a lot like me. I am kinda tall, also with brown hair and eyes, but I have 32C breasts, which he does not - (lol). My hair is down to my shoulders; his is short and he keeps it mussed up, as if he just got out of bed.
I walked down the stairs toward the sound of him and Dad talking. When I caught sight of them, I noticed several things at once. Dad was happy; Jeff had suitcases; no girlfriend with him; and he looked so good to me. Not sexually good - let's not jump to conclusions. This was my brother. I had always loved him and looked up to him and we had always gotten along with each other and trusted each other. I felt that void. It hit me hard. It made me flash back to those horrid days after Mom died and the heartbreak and heartache that I felt when Jeff refused to stay home. I remembered the humiliation of offering myself to him and being rejected.
"Jeff, what are you doing here?" I asked, sounding more cold than I intended.
"I guess I forgot to tell you guys that I decided to take the summer semester off. I remember now that I had told you I wasn't gonna. Are you not excited to see me, Sis?"
"Of course I am," I managed and gave him a hug. It felt so good. I loved him so much - at that moment in the very best, non-sexual, way. But I was still hurt. He had to know that.
Over the course of the next few hours, he informed us that he had broken up with his girlfriend and that had made him homesick for us. He said he missed getting to hang out and watch sports on TV with us, going down to the Dairy Freeze to get an ice cream cone, and going to church with us. That was one thing we had always done together. Jeff nor I had ever given our parents any grief about church attendance. They expected it and we did it. We knew right from wrong, but we also had mastered the fine art of rationalization.
Dad and Jeff went to the Supermarket to get some steaks to grill (the parable of the Prodigal Son and the killing of the fatted calf crossed my mind). I washed clothes. We had clothes from the beach that needed laundering and Jeff had brought a laundry bag full. I just washed them all. No need of being a stick in the mud.
Dad grilled the steaks while Jeff and I prepared baked potatoes and a garden salad. We didn't talk much. We made small talk, but it wasn't like it used to be. It made me sad. I wanted to cry. The meal, however, was delicious. Afterward, we watched the Braves beat the Dodgers, so it was an extremely nice evening.
Then it was bed time. I, of course, had planned on sleeping with Daddy. Now I couldn't - for the whole summer?? That was a major disappointment. I was afraid that Daddy would revert to "guilt mode" and put a stop to it for good. I knew he must still have major qualms about having sex with his own daughter. I would be lying if I said I didn't. I most certainly knew that it was wrong; maybe that was what made it so delicious?
I half expected (feared?) that Jeff might knock on my bedroom door. What would I do? I didn't even feel like talking to him. My pain was real. It made me want to cry, and I did. Silently. The knock never came that night. I was glad.
The next day, Sunday, we attended church, went out to eat with some family friends, and then headed home. Dad said the lawn had to be mowed, which had become my job, but Jeff volunteered to do it. Daddy did the weed-eating and some more yard work. I put away our clothes from vacation and put Jeff's things in his room.
I was in a funk. Jeff was ruining my summer, already. He refused me when I needed him; now he was in the way. I was afraid that he was going to ruin my new-found, yet illicit, relationship with Daddy. And what was he going to do all day, every day? Was he getting a job? Or was he going to hang around at home? I was due to start my tutoring job in a week, but in the intervening time, were we going to be left alone at home? I just didn't have that many things to do to waste time. I don't particularly care for shopping; most of my friends were busy; if I were going swimming, it would be at home in our own pool. Maybe he would just sit in his room and read or maybe he would go visit his own friends. I just knew that I didn't want to be around him any more than I had to be. Back before Mom's death, every moment we could be together was precious - how things had changed. I had always loved hanging out with him. He was so good looking -- so hot! And I knew he thought that I was too.
Monday morning Dad left for work before I even got out of bed. I didn't even set an alarm. I felt depressed and just hoped I would sleep all day, until he got home that afternoon. It wasn't to be. When 8 AM came, I found myself tossing and turning and feeling useless. When did I start feeling like I was supposed to be useful?
Jeff and I had always shared a bathroom upstairs. Our bedrooms were separated by a large, open, hallway. The bathroom was between our bedrooms, at the very back of the house. There were two doors - one to each bedroom. There were, of course, locks on both sides of both doors.
When I could stay in bed no longer, I shuffled to the bathroom, dressed in my customary tee shirt and panties. Upon opening the door, I realized that Jeff was in the shower.
"Hurry up, Jeff! I have to pee!" I yelled.
He poked his head out, laughing. "Pee, then. You never cared before."
It was true. Neither of us had hesitated to pee when the other was in the shower. We just didn't make a big deal out of it. You couldn't see through the shower door. I hesitated, but decided that I wasn't going to allow him to inconvenience me. As I sat down, Jeff shut the water off and pulled back the shower curtain to grab his towel. Shit! Obviously my eyes looked where they shouldn't - to his half-erect penis. Oh my!
I tried not to look. Jeff started drying himself and I managed to avert my eyes and escape back into my bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind me. "Fuck!" I thought. "This is the last thing I need now. To start lusting after my own brother!" My body was already reacting, though. I could feel how wet I was already getting. My breasts were already tingling. Oh course I found him attractive and sexy. How could I not? I had rarely ever even felt nervous with him, because I trusted him totally.
What if he came in my bedroom? What if he started flirting with me? How strong was I? And now that I wasn't a virgin anymore - well, I had to stop thinking about it. I couldn't get it out of my mind that he tried to play with my tits at the most inappropriate time ever. I got dressed in running shorts, a sports bra, and a tee-shirt. Maybe I would go for a run and get my mind off my brother's penis and what I wanted to do with it. I went downstairs to make coffee.
Jeff was soon downstairs, in the kitchen, where I sat at the table sipping my first cup of coffee. He looked through the refrigerator, found some eggs and bacon and, to my surprise, set about the task of cooking breakfast. He was dressed in loose-fitting shorts and a tee-shirt that said "NERDS RULE". Barefoot. He looked good.
"Um, are you actually cooking breakfast?" I asked, incredulously.
"Yes. One egg or two?"
"One is fine. Two strips of bacon," I stated. "And some buttered toast. Peach jelly," I added.
He looked at me and grinned. "So who usually cooks around here?"
"We kinda take it time about," I replied. "Dad is a much better cook than me, but when he's working, I try to do most of the cooking. After all, I'm the woman of the house," I added, flatly.
The grin fell from his face. I thought, for a moment, that he was going to cry, but he turned back to the stove.
We ate in silence. I did tell him that the food tasted good and thanked him for cooking. We finished, he gathered the dishes, and loaded them into the dishwasher.
As he did so, I went into the living room with my coffee and turned the TV on. Jeff soon joined me. He picked up the remote and hit the mute button. "Pammy. I'm so sorry. I don't even know what to say to you. There's nothing that will ever make this up to you." And with that, he began to sob. Huge tears rolled down his face as he searched frantically for a tissue. He tried to say more, and failed.
This, of course, made me start weeping, too. We both sat there crying, our bodies heaving with great sobs. I know that Jeff must have wept like this when Mom died, but I didn't remember it. In my mind, he hadn't cared that much. He was so selfish that his college stuff was more important than me, than Daddy, than grieving for our mother. Now I saw that I was wrong. Jeff may have been selfish, but he wasn't heartless. He cared.
"Pammy," he sobbed, "I was selfish. I didn't think I was, at that time, but now I know I was." He dabbed at his eyes, but his voice still broke when he talked. "I wish I had..." he sobbed again and made such an utterly hopeless, mournful sound that it startled me. "Pammy. I don't want you to hate me!" he moaned.
I crossed to him, instinctively. I sat on the couch next to him and put my arms around him, my own sobs making my body shudder. "I don't hate you, Jeff. I know you love me -- and I love you! I have missed you so bad. You don't even know."
Suddenly his arms were around me and we were kissing. I guess I had never thought about how it would be to kiss him, about how attracted I was to him, of how much I loved him and missed him and how fucking sexy I thought he was. Tongues intertwined, our tears running down our faces and falling to the floor. We muttered "I love you"'s and "I missed you"'s as we continued to kiss as if we were starved for each other. I suppose we were.
Jeff began to kiss my neck. FUCK!! The image of his naked body in the shower, earlier, flashed through my mind. FUCK!! My body was totally responding to him. I was a woman now. I had had sex; I loved it and I was good at it -- and I had to admit that what made it even better with Daddy was that it was INCEST. My mind was telling me to 'fucking stop right now'.
When he put his hand on my breast, I found strength. I pushed his hand away, but continued to kiss him. He tried again, as if perhaps, in my eagerness to pull his hand tighter to me, I had accidentally pushed it away. I grasped his hand, this time, and held it. "Please, Jeff, no. Just kiss me. I need to know that you love me."
He complied. We were soon laying on the couch, still kissing, still whispering sweetly to each other. I could feel, very distinctly, his erection, through the running shorts. Oh, I wanted it! I wanted to suck him, like I had Daddy. I wanted to give him so much pleasure. And my body wanted more than that. I knew that something was different, now that I was no longer a virgin. What was I even thinking? Was I contemplating doing something with Jeff other than kissing and holding each other? No! We couldn't. I loved Jeff, but he had not been there for me when I needed him. He had rejected me. I could not have a sexual relationship with both him and my father!
Suddenly I sat up. "We can't do this, Jeff. We're brother and sister. I love you and you're unbelievably good looking and... I'm attracted and you know I am.... but this cannot happen!"
"I did something I wish I hadn't done, Sis." He patted the couch and grasped my hand, pulling me down to sit with him. "I had sex. You know what I thought about while we did it?"
"I'm afraid to ask," I gasped as he stroked my hand and I gazed into his face. I had known, for quite a while, that Jeff had deeper feelings for me than a brother should have for his sister. I had denied to myself that I felt the same way toward him, fearing what might happen if I let that cat out of the bag.
"You already know. You know I was thinking of you, Pam. You've always known that there will never be a woman that will mean as much to me as you do, besides the fact that you are the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen." He said this with so much passion that it melted my heart. Fresh tears rolled down my face. He kissed them away. "I love you, Pammy. You know I have been in love with you, always. You know that I will never love a woman the way I do you."
I jerked my hand away. "You abandoned me, Jeff. I needed you worse than I ever had or ever will. You humiliated me. You made me beg you. You made me act like a common whore!" I shouted this last part at him, then ran up the stairs and locked my bedroom door.
After a long while I heard him come up the stairs, but he didn't come to my door. I assumed he went to his room. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, contemplating what had just happened in the last hour. Did I handle it right? Did I have a right to say what I had said to him? Could I stick to what I said? Was I too weak? I certainly did not hate him - in no way. I loved him and I wanted him to know I loved him - as a brother, and only as a brother. I wanted him to know that I forgave him, but I still felt bitterness toward him. We absolutely could not have a physical relationship! What about kissing? Could we kiss?
And he was no longer a virgin. He had gone all the way! But how did I have a right to be jealous after what I had done?? But he said he thought about ME when he fucked his girlfriend? Did I buy that? Maybe, but she was a very good looking girl. It didn't matter. It was still a great compliment. And it made me very horny.
After perhaps half an hour of this daydreaming, I thought it was time to go talk this through with him. We had to get along. We had to be on friendly terms with each other if we were going to live in the same house. We had to get over hurt feelings; we had to love each other, but in the right way.
His bedroom door was open. When I peeked in, he was laying on his bed, shirt off, asleep. How could this be arousing to me? But it was. His hairless chest was well-, but not heavily-, muscled. He didn't have six-pack abs, but his stomach was flat and coated with a fine matte of hair, like Daddy. I loved the way it looked. FUCK! I wanted to kiss him all over, suck his dick, and SO MUCH MORE! But I was going to control myself. I had to.
I tip-toed into his room and lay down next to him and watched him sleep. I loved him so very much. I wished that he were not my brother. I would so love to be his girlfriend and to contemplate marriage with him - to carry and have his babies. The thought made me even wetter. How was I going to stay under the same roof with this beautiful man and not have some kind of physical relationship with him, now that we both were adults and had both had sex, and knowing how we felt about each other? Since I had had sex with Daddy, everything was different. It seemed that my mind was totally focused on sex all the time. And my brother looked good enough to eat! I wanted to do everything with him that a woman can do with a man! Was my body going to react this way every time I saw him or even thought about him?
His eyes opened. Those beautiful, incredibly intelligent, brown eyes. His long eyelashes made him look boyish, but the stubble on his face was indicative that he was a grown, 21 year old, man. My handsome brother!
He smiled and yawned. "What a pleasant surprise. My favorite person in the whole world," he said.
"Moi?"
"You know that you are, Pammy." He paused. "I'm sorry about earlier. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. I wish I had stayed home and sat out a semester, Sis. I should have... And you shouldn't have had to belittle yourself to try to get me to stay. I wouldn't have done... that..."
"You wouldn't have done what?" I giggled.
"You know," he said as he blushed.
I tried to look puzzled. I frowned. "I haven't a clue," I claimed.
"I wouldn't have stayed just because you offered to... have sex with me."
I laughed. "You liar. If you had stayed and I offered it, you would have." I paused and smiled again. "Wouldn't you?" I asked in a teasing voice.
"I love you, Baby Sister," he whispered.
I didn't need to be here. I was horny and I didn't want anything physical to happen. I was wrestling with myself. Was I supposed to be exclusive with Daddy? Did he expect that? I didn't think that he would, but he certainly would be disappointed and disgusted if I did something with Jeff.
"Pam? Pammy? Earth to Pam?" Jeff sat up and leaned over me on his elbow. "Little Sis, you're daydreaming," he whispered as he kissed me on the lips. Fuck! I kissed him back, knowing that this was messing with my brain. I couldn't think this through with this going on. And for whatever reason, when he called me 'Little Sis' or 'Baby Sister', that just sent a sexual charge through me. Lust coursed through my veins. A conditioned response, like Pavlov's dogs.
I loved kissing him, though. I loved sucking his tongue and having mine sucked by him. I imagined him fitting perfectly into me and our bodies fitted together as if we were made for each other.
We continued to kiss and moan and whisper to each other. He turned me on so fucking totally. My entire body was eager for him. My breasts were screaming to be unleashed so that he could play with them and suck on them as Daddy had done.
I broke our kiss and rolled to the side of the bed and sat on the edge. I was panting. I knew my panties were wet and I was fighting not to just take my clothes off right then and there and let him do anything and everything he wanted to me.
"Pammy, please. What's wrong?" he gasped. He was panting from excitement. "It's not like I'm going to take your virginity!" He laughed, but it wasn't funny.
I couldn't lie to him. What was the point of letting him think I was still a virgin? If I knew we would never... But what if we did? Why was I allowing my mind to even entertain this thought? But what if, in a moment of mutual weakness, we did do it? I didn't want to ruin THAT moment by him finding out THEN! Did I?
"You're too late for that. That ship has sailed," I said flatly. I immediately saw the hurt in his eyes. "Jeff, you're not a virgin. Why should I be?"
He didn't say anything at all. I think he tried to say something and didn't trust what might come out of his mouth. But I could tell he was hurt. He didn't have a right to be, but he was. So why did it bother him? Why did it bother me? Yet, it did.
He swallowed, looking uncomfortable. "When?... I'm not going to ask details. None of my business, but..."
"Not long," I said. "I do date, you know. It's not like we...," I didn't know what I wanted to say or what I could say. I didn't want this to be a barrier that would further separate us.
"I don't have any right to question you, Pammy. It just never crossed my mind that you would do it before marriage. You always said you wouldn't."
"And you said the same thing!" I tried to smile a little. "I still think sex... intercourse... is a very sacred and precious thing. I do. I'm not a slut. I only did it with one guy," I explained. Why was I even telling him this? The less said, the better.
"Me too. Just one girl. And I thought about you."
Was he hinting for me to tell him that I thought about him? I wasn't touching that. I certainly wasn't going to lie. I lay down with him, my back to him, thinking that he might roll over and spoon me. He did. It felt so natural - so familiar. It felt right. We didn't speak for a while. It crossed my mind that I should get up and get out of this awkward situation. I was torn, of course. My body and my mind were having a cage match. My body was winning, but my mind was putting up a good fight. It wasn't helping that I could feel his hard-on pressed into my butt crack.
Then his hand was under my shirt and stroking my tummy. It felt good. It had occurred to me earlier that my period was a few days away because I was experiencing some slight pre-menstrual cramps.
I knew he wouldn't be satisfied with just my tummy. I knew that he wanted to play with my breasts and I was dying for him to, but I knew that would lead to a lot more, now that both of us had gone all the way.
I jumped out of bed. "I'm going for a run. Do you want to come?"
He laughed and quoted our favorite TV show, The Office. "That's what she said!" We both laughed.
I grinned, "Are you coming, Big Brother?" I said as teasingly as I could.
"That's what she asked!" he smiled. "Let me get my shoes on and I'll run, too. How far do you go?"
"I've been doing two miles, but I haven't run in over a week," I replied.
"I think I can do two miles," he said as he grabbed his running shoes. "I haven't been running as much lately."
That had once been our routine. 4 or 5 days a week. Anywhere from 2 to 5 miles. We had both run track in high school. We had also played basketball, and we still had a goal next to the driveway.
Soon we were underway. He told me to lead, teasing me by saying that he liked to watch me from behind. So we ran. It felt good, but I could tell that my breathing wasn't as steady as it normally was when I was running regularly. We ran a little over 2 miles before collapsing in patio chairs, out by the pool.
"That was fun, Sis," he said. "I hope we can do this a lot this summer."
"I do too!" I enthused. It was nice to be able to look forward to doing something with him that did not involve sexual tension. "I'm heading for the shower," I announced.
When I got to the bathroom I discarded my clothes and started to lock the door that went into his room. But I decided against it. After all, I mused, he might need to use the bathroom. Or he might need a towel!
I was soaping up when I heard the bathroom door open. Had I expected it? It certainly was not a surprise.
"Sis," he said, "I'm all sweaty. No need to waste water!" And with that, he was drawing the curtain back and stepping into the shower with me. FUCK! He was gorgeous, naked. His cock was already stiffening. He grabbed the body wash and began to rub it all over his body.
I was making no attempt to protest. He was gazing at my body and I was glad. I wanted him to look. I wanted him to lust. I wanted to drive him crazy with desire and need. Of course we weren't going to do anything! Were we? We were just going to give each other this little pleasure. Just look. Don't touch! This would have been unthinkable before I had sex with Daddy. That had changed everything. Now I was proudly letting my own brother see my naked body and I was gazing at his with unabashed lust.
"Are these new developments, Pammy?" he asked as he gazed at my breasts.
"You tell me, Big Brother. Do they look bigger?"
"Maybe not, but they're the best ones I ever saw," he said. "Of course I never saw them totally naked before... that you knew, anyway," he laughed.
I looked down at his swollen cock, forcing myself not to grab it. It looked almost as big as Daddy's, but perhaps not as thick. I couldn't resist. "How long is that thing, Jeff? Good gracious!"
"Oh just a few inches!" he smirked. "It's big enough to do the job."
"Oh? What job is that, Big Brother?" I breathed. The proximity to my sexy, naked brother, and our teasing banter had made me much more breathless than our earlier run.
"Oh, you know. I can pee without dribbling on my shoes... for instance," he teased.
"Oh!" I said as I turned to let the shower spray my back.
He immediately started rubbing body wash on my shoulders and back. I knew he would find an excuse to touch me. I expected it. I backed into him, his hard cock now against my naked bottom. FUCK, it felt like it was burning me. As if scripted... and I suppose it was, in a way, his hands came around my body and grasped my slick, soapy breasts.
YESSSS. Oh it felt so good. He seemed to know just how to squeeze them. He knew just when to tweak the nipples and with exactly the right amount of pressure.
I reached back, unable to control my urge any longer. I grasped his cock, already slick with his pre-cum, as well as the remnants of the body wash that had not been rinsed off. "Oh, Jeff, it feels HUGE!" What man doesn't want a woman to brag on the size of his cock? But I wasn't just trying to compliment him. It was BIG!
Jeff turned me toward him as I continued to play with his cock, reaching down to heft his balls, knowing deep down inside that, one way or any another, I was going to help him empty them. Who, THE FUCK, was I kidding? Was there any possible way that I could let this gorgeous man, whom I loved unconditionally, be available to me and not take advantage? I WANTED HIM and HE WANTED ME. Of course, we didn't have to fuck. There were thousands of glorious things that we could do for and to each other without THAT. We kissed. Our tongues fucked each other's mouths and I stroked his cock and he massaged my breasts and reached down to feel how wet my pussy was FOR HIM!
I realized that I had suppressed my desire for him. I think I had known that, once I turned 18 years old, that something was going to happen between us. I had tried not to think about it and, when Daddy and I had had sex, I had assumed that would be enough for me and that nothing would ever happen between me and Jeff. Now I couldn't imagine something NOT happening!
We managed to disengage long enough to rinse off and dry off. I wrapped my towel around me and asked, "want a sandwich?" I teased.
"Got any pimento cheese?" he grinned. "Yeah, go fix me one."
"Fuck you," I grinned as I led him into my room.
We lay on my bed, kissing, me still wrapped in my towel, he totally naked. He opened my towel and kissed my breasts, very tenderly; then, in turned, he licked each nipple wetly and softly. "Oh, baby, your tits drive me crazy!"
I thrust them up at him. "Oh, Jeffy, that feels soooooo goooood. I've imagined you doing this! If you keep doing that, I'm going to cum."
There was no going back. My breasts were the key to my sexuality. It was obvious. I lay back and let him suckle my breasts to his heart's content. One hand was gently massaging my breasts, first one, then the other, as his other hand stroked my tummy, then lower, until his fingers were dragging across my pubis, my clit and the swollen lips of my saturated pussy. As he gently bit one nipple, he looked into my eyes as he began gently massaging my clit.
"FUCKKKKKKKKK, Jeffy. You know what to do so gooood! You're so good to your little sister," I moaned, lost in the intense pleasure he was giving me.
He got on all fours and straddled me, then lay with his body partially on me, his face next to mine. "Your Big Brother loves you, Little Sister," he whispered as we began kissing again.
I could feel the moist trail of his cock as he moved. I reached down and stroked it. It was wet and slick with his pre-cum. I had marveled many times at how perfectly our bodies are created. Men and women both naturally create lubrication so that the sex act is pleasurable. Knowing that our bodies had prepared themselves for intercourse - with EACH OTHER - had always driven me absolutely crazy with lust. My body craved him. I was a woman now. Somewhat experienced, too.
We continued to kiss, never tiring of it, even with more urgent needs pressing. My body was on fire. My breasts needed more sucking. My pussy needed to cum. BADLY. Obviously his cock needed sucking and I was more than eager to fulfill that function -- to show him what his little sister was capable of doing!
I slid out from under him and positioned myself between his legs, looking up at him with a wide smile on my face. I held his cock up and looked at it, then up at my brother. The expression on his face was priceless. He couldn't wait. His entire being was focused on what I was about to do to him.
"Fuck, Pammy. You're going to make me cum before you even start," he gasped.
I could see that he was telling the truth. His cock was ANGRY, the head swollen and purple, pre-cum leaking copiously from the tip. Every time I put any pressure as I held it in my hand, it spasmed. "Well, we wouldn't want to do anything... premature, now would we?" I giggled.
"I'm not kidding, Pam. I can't hold it. I'm about to cum right now!" he practically yelled.
I leaned over to kiss it again, moving my hand to given myself better access. He wasn't kidding. Gobs of white-hot, brotherly cum spewed out in great white arcs. A wad hit me square on my face, much of it going directly into my mouth. Another chunk hit me right above the eye. I moved, so as to be out of the line of fire and marveled at how much spunk continued to shoot forth from my big brother's cock. I started stroking, to maximize his pleasure. Just when it seemed that the jets were about to cease, another hot geyser surged out. More spurted out and, as I continued to pump, more thick, white stuff seeped out. I leaned over and probed the eye of his cock with my tongue, then sucked gently to make sure I got it all. I stuck out my tongue to show him his cum, then swallowed. It was like warm, vanilla cream.
I squealed in delight. "Big Brother! I love this stuff! Thank you!" I slurped up some of it from his tummy and licked what had deposited on my lips. Then I licked the residue from my hand. "You're so good to your little sister!"
He lay back onto the pillow. I kissed his dwindling cock and got up to get a wash cloth. I returned and wiped the rest of his cum up, then went and rinsed the cloth. When I came back, yet again, he said, "I'm so sorry. I just couldn't help it. You're just... too much! You drive me crazy."
"Apologize for what? I love that stuff! Are you crazy? Knowing that I have that effect on you drives ME crazy!" I noticed that his cock was already revitalizing. A thought went through my mind that Daddy would be finished, at least for a few hours, after that.
I straddled him, my wet pussy now in direct contact with his inflating cock. I sat on him and leaned forward for more kissing. (Dear reader, please don't complain that there is too much kissing. I can't get enough of it. It's how it happened. Okay?)
Within moments he was fully hard again and I was dry humping him (though there was nothing dry about it), on my way to my own orgasm. I rotated my hips in a circular motion, as if we were really fucking.
Jeff watched my face intently. He wanted to watch me cum and he knew I was getting close. Then he quickly and expertly flipped me over so that he was on top and his cock was sawing at just the right place, along my wet slit and my swollen clit. It made me fantasize that he was breeding me - filling my womb with his man-seed - us, together, making a baby. He was the man. He should be in the dominant position.
I wrapped my legs around him and moaned. "Oh, fuck, Jeff. Fuck your little sister!" My orgasm washed over me. I bucked up at him, undoubtedly bruising his pubic bone. His hard cock continued to deliciously mash against my spasming clit as I screamed, "Oh it's so fucking gooooooood!"
My orgasm left me as limp as a dishrag. I pushed at Jeff, indicating for him to get off of me, then rolled into a fetal position. He lay down behind me and stroked my back. Then he rolled toward me, his hard cock against my ass. Then I felt him rubbing the head of his cock against my pussy lips. It felt nice, even though I had just had a massive climax.
It would be so easy to just lift my leg a little and just push back toward him. He would be inside me. We would be fucking!
Things had changed, drastically. Neither of us were virgins anymore. But I had fucked my own father and, furthermore, I planned to do it again. I knew that I was compartmentalizing my morality. I still felt like that I was a good person, but good people don't have sex with family members! Still, I had justified my behavior with Daddy, in my mind, with the fact that we were both in the grieving process, insane with grief, and that it was my duty to take Mom's place. After all, she had her accident because of my birthday. It was, at least indirectly, my fault. I had to make it up to Daddy as best I could. Rationalization.
But there was no rationalization for fucking my brother. Neither of us was a virgin. If we went "all the way" it would be with our eyes wide open - knowing full well what we were doing and how wrong it was. I had heard a lot of sermons in my life. I had heard preachers talk about sins that were unintentional and sins that are committed with the full knowledge of what we're doing. Sins for which there is no excuse except for the fact that we want to do it. One preacher called it "sinning with a high hand".
All this was running through my mind as I lay there, my brother teasing my pussy with his hard cock - dragging the head up and down my slit and tapping it against my clit. But was doing it with your brother worse than doing it with a boyfriend? If so, why? In fact, why was expressing your love to someone you really did love worse than doing so with a guy that you had only known a short while? I had known Jeff all my life! I had always loved him. I could not remember not having deep emotions for him. He had always been good to me; he had always taken up for me; he had even done my chores sometimes. We had rarely gotten angry with each other. When I chose a husband, I knew I would look for a man who had the qualities that Jeff had. Smart, good-looking, kind, and (moral? - eek!).
I knew then that I could not do it. I wanted to. Five minutes ago, I was ready. I was going to surprise him by going all the way. But no. It was just wrong. It would change our relationship. It would change us. It would be falling into a pit from which there was no escape. It was sinful.
I rolled over to face him. I would kiss him, then get up and go about my day. We kissed. He put my hand on his cock. Oh my! It was so hard! I needed to get him off again. No big deal, there. He reached down and touched my clit as he licked a breast. Nice. Maybe he would eat me? I stroked his cock as he continued to touch me while kissing and sucking my breasts and neck. The room was filled with moans and cries of delight. How could it feel this good after he had made me cum so hard just moments before? My body was already buzzing again. I looked down at his big cock and balls, wonderful, all-consuming lust filling my every pore.
"I love you so, much, Pam," he said as he gazed deeply into my eyes as he fingered my wet pussy. He inserted a finger. I closed my eyes in bliss.
"I love you, Jeff. I missed you so badly. I cried so much because you weren't here. I was totally lost. I didn't know what to do." I felt my eyes water.
Jeff kissed me again as I spread my legs, granting his hand complete access to my pussy. He moved on top of me, again. I reached down and rubbed his spongy cock-head against my clit and rubbed it in circles around my opening. It would be sooooo easy right now. He moved my hand and took himself in hand, placing the head directly on the opening to my pussy. He looked at me and grinned.
"Don't you fuck me, Big Brother!" I said in a teasing voice.
"Not even an inch?" He grinned.
"You're getting dangerous," I warned.
He pushed, very slightly. Now the head was poised to impale me, the very tip technically inside me. He grinned again. Oh fuck, why didn't he just go ahead and do it? It wouldn't be my fault.
"Jeff! Stop. You're about to fuck me!" I laughed, nervously.
Ever so slightly he increased the pressure. What was he doing?? I looked down and thought it looked like the head was halfway inside me. I had to stop him, but I was too curious. Whatever this game was, it was fun.
"Jeff, are you trying to fuck your little sister without her permission," I asked in an extremely sultry voice.
"Give me permission, Little Sister."
I contemplated his face. I stroked his face. "You know I can't give you access."
"I think I have access," he quipped. "You're not putting up much of a fight!" he laughed.
He was driving me crazy. My pussy felt like it would just suck him right in. I longed to thrust my hips up, capturing his entire length. I was on fire. I wanted it so badly. I could feel my nipples aching. I massaged one of my breasts and closed my eyes, laying back in abject surrender to him. I awaited the delicious penetration that was sure to come.
He didn't move. I opened my eyes as he "stirred" his cock at my opening. It felt like it was beginning to stretch me, ever so slightly. I knew that the head was practically, if not fully, inside me.
He was looking into my eyes, the grin gone from his face, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated passion. Was it lust, or love? Did it even matter?
All I knew was that this was the moment for which we had both waited. This was the moment that we both knew was inevitable - no matter how much we kidded ourselves - we both knew that this was coming. It was just a matter of when. Would we put it off until we were both married and meet up and give in to each other? That had been a fantasy of mine. I had known, though, that it was going to happen. Sooner or later. And that morning, when he pulled back the shower curtain, did I know it would be today? My brother's gorgeous cock - it had been on my mind all day. Now that I was not a virgin and knew how to FUCK - ever since I had first done it, the very first time - it had been in the back of my mind that I had to show Jeff this new, this ultimate, pleasure. A deep corner of my mind had planned this - not in detail - but yes, I had known. Nothing that had happened today had shocked me; I knew it was going to happen - if not today, then tomorrow, or the next day, or next week. I knew it would happen. Our magnetism for each other was just too strong.
I adjusted myself so that I was laying flatter on my back. I reached for his face. He lay on me, the head still semi-inserted into my opening. We kissed, tongues wrestling. My breathing was shallow. I was practically hyper-ventilating.
I held his face to my neck, whispering in his ear, "Make love to me, Big Brother."
He didn't hesitate. He slowly pushed forward and his wonderful, thick, long-desired, brotherly cock slid deep into me. I put my feet flat on the bed and pushed up at him. He hit bottom. It was exquisite. He didn't move. I wrapped my legs around him and moaned.
"Oh, Pammy," he groaned. "Oh, Pammy." He raised his head and I could see that he was weeping. His tears ran down his cheeks and dripped onto my face. My own tears began to course down my face as he began to slowly move inside me.
I held his face in my hands, breathing hard, my eyes opening and closing in turn as he began to saw in and out of me. We both whimpered and whined and groaned as we gazed into each other eyes. I could think of nothing to say. Could anything possibly be more perfect? Were there words to describe the euphoria of this moment? All of the emotions of our mutual loss; all of the frustrations and sexual tensions of our teen years; all of the deep love that we had for each other - all of these things screamed for release.
Every fiber of my being was focused on this man - my brother. I was in love with him. I licked at his lips, kissing and licking his gorgeous face as he picked up speed. He was SO GOOD! He wasn't doing anything special, except slowly but surely picking up the pace as he fucked in and out of my body. As I had imagined, he fit into me perfectly - an ideal biological fit - sister and brother. We were made for each other. I was well-lubricated and as he plunged in and out of my wetness, his thick cudgel made the most delicious, wet, sucking sounds as my cunt grasped his cock - my brother's cock that was giving such overwhelming pleasure to his little sister.
Between moans, Jeff kissed my neck and face and ears. He gazed into my eyes as he made longer strokes, his long cock coming nearly all the way out of me before he slid it into me, ALL THE WAY DEEP INTO ME, again. Over and over and over and over again.
"Can I cum in you, Pammy?" he groaned. These were the first words that either of us had spoken.
"Yes, cum in me!" I eagerly replied. "Fill me up with it," I whispered.
He stopped, completely inside me. His eyes closed and I could feel the base of his cock pulsing. He was cumming in me!
"Uuuunggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I groaned as my own orgasm overwhelmed me. I unwrapped my legs from around him, placed my feet on the bed and arched my back, fucking up at him. Everything was right in the world. Surely no drug could give you such pure, deep, utter pleasure.
I continued to arch up at him as my climax dissipated. He collapsed on top of me, both of us breathing as if we had been running wind sprints. He held me and told me he loved me.
I couldn't say a word. I didn't want to talk. I just wanted to enjoy this after-glow. I didn't want to talk about it, rehash it, rationalize it, or even admit that it was inevitable. I just wanted to lay in the arms of my lover - my brother.
