The Sanschagrin Clan's Genetic Predisposition
Uh-oh, it felt like I was on the verge of getting lucky or, maybe I should say, getting laid. Was "lucky" even the right word? I mean, just imagine how fantastic that would be! I found myself sitting in a bar next to a hot guy. He was younger than me, and I knew him, but we hadn't seen each other or even chatted in ages. He ordered us another round of gold tequila because with the first one, I'd taught him how to do a body shot. Now, they say alcohol tends to loosen inhibitions, especially in a casual atmosphere like this, where people drink and laugh together. And, well, it's not like we planned on staying friends forever, right? I couldn't help myself.
I accidentally flirted with him, feigning innocence. With trepidation, I allowed him to go through the motions of taking a drink and make it a little more fun. Remember, I'd promised I'd behave myself, but like most men, he couldn't resist the seductive whispers of a pretty woman and the feel of delicate fingers grazing his neck. As I teasingly licked the sticky juice along his thick neck and tossed a little salt on it, the guys in the room hooted and cheered at what they thought was a lucky guy's unique experience. The poor guy couldn't figure out where to put his hands as I ambushed him like a seductive vampire. Sure, it was a bold move, but the crowd was so absorbed in the scene that I couldn't help myself.
I leaned over and placed my shaking palm on his upper thigh as I took my licking to the next level. I graced his nervous neck with my tongue as all the regulars watched on. Then, I carefully slithered my fingers towards his crotch and felt that certain, unmistakable bulge in his jeans. I tried not to get too carried away, though, with an audience. I just pulled my hand back into my lap and, leaning forward, I sweetly kissed him on his nose. Thankfully, it didn't end there—he needed to make his move.
I let him decide where to target my body and got ready to let him show off his skills. The crowd awaited something entertaining, hoping to see a turn of events. He considered my face and smirked, then decided to attack the crease at the top of my low-cut blouse right between my ample breasts. I was wearing a blouse with a low neckline, and the crowd gasped with curiosity. As he towered over me and sank his teeth into the lime wedge, his aim was true, but he left a wet, sloppy line behind. With a dismissive wave, he tossed the rest of the lime towards the bar and then sprinkled salt grains on my chest for his final touch. The translucent blue crystals glimmered in the dim light like glitter on a stripper's ample cleavage, stealing everyone's attention.
He slid my shirt open, revealing my freckled cleavage and trying not to arouse those watching in a crowded bar. I nodded to give him the go-ahead. Sweating, pressing his lips into the salt crystals, he drew up his face from the bar stool and positioned his nose to run down my quivering flesh, grazing my ample chest before finally daring to flick it into his mouth. The crowd applauded his delectable dessert. Then, suddenly, he looked at me with a furrowed brow, wondering how to handle this last step. But as the night wore on, we all became less innocent...
His intense gaze never left my hazy eyes as he moved closer to my heaving chest. Then, his flattened tongue darted out and stroked my trembling skin. He gently kissed the cleavage formed by my swaying breasts. A shock of electricity raced through my body, sending shivers down my back and causing a sudden, unexpected orgasm in my vagina. The sudden, visible reactions of my sensitive skin from his rough, wet tongue were matched by the intense heat in my pussy, indicating the engorgement of my aching clitoris, craving oral stimulation. I couldn't help but shake with passion, but thankfully for everyone involved, they only saw the ripples of goosebumps and assumed it was from the body shot. I kept the secret to myself, unsure of whether he had just given me the best orgasm I'd had in almost three years.
And, in an indication that I wasn't the only playful one, his right hand cupped the side of my left breast, and the fingers gently but noticeably kneaded and squeezed the soft melon. He then planted a quick, soft kiss on the pointed tips of both my boobs before ending his exploration.
Only then, after a brief pause, did he return with rosy cheeks to the applause of the admiring crowd, and with a cautious anticipation of how I would react, we cheersed each other and downed our shots. In the mirror, I saw that both of our faces had a warm flush that was more than just alcohol. Then he casually brushed his warm, salty lips against my smiling cheek, and I returned with a warm, generous hug. The heat produced by our bodies momentarily touching was captivating. He couldn't help but notice that a spark flew between us, and we'd taken a different, unexpected path. The noise in the room died down as everyone resumed talking. We went back to our drinks and continued conversing about old times and people who were no longer around.
At this point, my mind wandered a bit, wondering if I was unintentionally seducing him or if I was the seductress after all.
I had been a long time since anything more than my painted nails or a dildo had stimulated the straining nub of my clitoris. And even longer since the touch had been from someone I truly liked. Most men wore their intentions on their sleeves, and I was no longer the girl who gave herself so easily. Sex had become a means to an end rather than for pleasure. No one had excited or tempted me in a long time, and I had even started avoiding the situation because my impulses often got me into trouble.
And now, I was sitting inches away from him, and for just one more round of alcohol, I could whisper in his ear, letting him know that I was his for the taking. He was always a boyishly handsome youth, but he had grown much more mature and confident. He didn't try to impress me with fancy restaurants or suggest anywhere private. This was his local bar, and everyone looked at us when we entered. We had a pitcher of beer and played a game of darts, then settled at the bar to recall old memories. This kind of seduction turned me on. There was only one thing holding me back. He was my brother!
My father was the first to seduce me, years ago, and I must admit that I didn't turn him away. He showed me everything that was exciting and illicit, even when it was risky. I was eighteen and knew better, but I couldn't resist the danger. I was seduced by my father, and it was both taboo and incestuous, but somewhere along the way, I started asking for more. My virginity held no value to me, but the rewards of knowing how to tantalize a man made it invaluable.
As the years went on, my father would crawl into my bed in the morning when my mother left for work. I'd even suck his cock in the car in the lot outside the mall, and sometimes, he'd hand me money for new shoes or concert tickets. My experiences with my father held no value but were expensive education and job training.
When my mother learned about our secret, she suffered a severe heart attack. Her last confession before dying revealed our activities. Before completing high school, I was called a slut. My brother Benny was in elementary school at the time and only found out about the truth recently upon the death of our father (the man whose name shall not be uttered). I left with a traveling salesman, resulting in financial ruin and under the care of older men. This was all I had in life as I faced the challenges. I learned to manipulate men and take advantage of circumstances. However, despite this hardened exterior, I was still aware of the gossip from the 'good folk'. I desperately wanted to return to a simpler life, but was it even an option? The advanced education I received had left me filled with bitterness and vulnerability. One thing I found out was that I would never be able to bear children, if anyone even wanted me as a mother.
Benny worked in manual labor, maintaining the house and taking care of our father until his passing. He tried to contact me about the funeral, but my frequent changes of address and lack of communication made it difficult. Upon receiving the message and finding myself with just a torn suitcase, a potted plant, and a lot of bills, I boarded a bus and traveled for two thousand miles to end up on the porch steps of our old home, staring at a 'for sale' sign as I considered my future. My name is Elizabeth, and my future looked bleak.
By sheer coincidence, a new convertible pulled up to the curb, and my baby brother emerged. Recognizing the older woman on the steps, we both smiled and embraced. He led me to the car, stating that he needed to set the burglar alarm and leave a note for the real estate agent, then drove us to his new apartment. He filled me in on the major events of the last seven years and was loving and welcoming to my return. The journey to his new place was cathartic. It was a typical bachelor's setup with clothes scattered about and leftover Chinese food. We ordered a pizza and I took a hot shower, followed by a drive to the bar to talk about everything over some drinks.
My life had been chaotic, and it was comforting to be "home" in some familiar surroundings. It seemed as if Benny had been waiting for me. If Benny knew about my past - especially regarding our father - he didn't mention it. The people who remembered me were likely scattered or not hanging out at Benny's local bar. His friends referred to him as Ben. He introduced me as Beth, surprising his friends because they didn't know he had a woman companion. They teased about it. He introduced me to many people, but never admitted our relationship, and I only responded as a newcomer or an old acquaintance. When asked, I replied that I lived in the area before or knew his family. Most customers were more interested in my outfit.
At his apartment, after mentioning that he would treat me to drinks and dinner, I informed Benny that I had very little money and no fashionable clothes. He put me at ease when he said that everything would be casual and it was his treat. I changed into denim shorts and a pink, lacey blouse - the extent of my wardrobe. My bare legs slid into cloth, open-toed sandals with a slight heel. My family all had light brown hair, mine being sun-kissed with blonde highlights, which I wore brushed back. I have a round face with pouty lips - men used to suggest that I was born to give blowjobs after they had already received one. My eyes were a shade of hazel and had a natural skin tone; I wore minimal make-up. I was once considered attractive, even by other women, but the passing years and self-hatred had taken their toll. Wrinkles and curves had formed in unflattering parts of my body.
In my blouse, my 34C breasts wobbled slightly but were contained by a sheer bra. When I took off the bra, they felt heavy and bounced firmly. These bouncy, firm breasts were not as perky as they were during my teenage years and tended to succumb to gravity, but no man could resist massaging and sucking on them. They had helped me land waitressing jobs or Happy Hour drinks in the past. I may have had a bit of extra weight around my belly and on my jiggly ass, but for a woman in her mid-thirties with an average life, I still thought I looked good. The stares and whistles from men in the bar seemed to agree. I was planning to start over and wanted to be seen as a good girl, so I didn't want to dress like a prostitute, especially on the first night back and in front of my brother. However, with my body shape and limited choice of clothes, I had to take a few risks.
Benny was about 8 inches taller than me, standing at 6'3", even in my heels. He had dark hair and a tanned torso, which looked toned in his tight polo shirt and jeans. He wore western boots, making him seem even taller that night. In the bar, he was relaxed and attentive, wanting to have fun with me but also occasionally asking questions. After the second round of drinks, we were challenged to another game of darts. (I'm sure our opponents just wanted another look at me.) We played a few games and drank a few more drinks, becoming more unsteady and goofy as the night wore on. Every time I threw well, we playfully slapped each other's butts, and when we clinked glasses in a toast, we shared sexy toasts. It was the weekend, so Benny didn't mind getting drunk and we only had a few blocks to walk. When we got back to his place, he made coffee, and then we struggled to figure out where to sleep.
His house had two bedrooms, one with a ping-pong table, pinball machine, and other furniture and knickknacks from the past. The other room had an exercise machine and a large, fluffy pillow for a big fluffy dog. His room, along with the exercise machine and a big fluffy pillow for a big fluffy dog, had one king-size bed. He said that any woman who had slept overnight would be expected to have sex with him. We both laughed awkwardly at this. "It's ironic," I said, "You used to sleep in my room when we were growing up." I also remembered that my current nighttime attire was a thin, worn-out T-shirt and underwear. I had been sleeping alone for a while and wasn't really prepared for visitors. He mentioned that he slept naked, with or without guests, so we had another issue to address.
My sleepwear was comfortable, but it was also transparent, leaving little to the imagination. His sleepwear was non-existent. He handed me one of his old football jerseys, which reached down to my knees and made me look like an orphan. He dug through the drawer for a pair of boxers, but his muscular chest and broad shoulders remained exposed. With a shrug of his shoulders and a kind wink, we moved towards the bed from different directions, but still managed to meet in the middle. We were too old to stay at opposite ends of the bed and not look at each other, but as siblings, we didn't exactly want to cuddle together. At first, we ended up laying side by side, talking about the old days and reminiscing. As the alcohol and late hours took their toll, we gradually tangled into a single, snoring heap.
I woke up and slept fitfully, having bizarre dreams about playing darts naked and being back in the old house with my mom watching me run from room to room, where my brother and father had sex with me and I came out naked, dripping in their semen. I was sweating profusely and felt thirsty, and something was bumping against me. I was in a strange place, but the friendly voices reassured me. It must have been around 4 or 5 in the morning when the dog started barking for no reason, but I screamed, not remembering where I was or who I was with. Benny, who was used to the dog, rushed to defend me, holding me and wiping the sweat from my face.
I involuntarily looped my arms around him, shielding my distressed face in his comforting chest. I listened to his heartbeat and felt the nervous touch of his rough fingers on my bare skin. I hadn't been nurtured and embraced in a while and it felt nice, even a little sensual, to be hugged and petted like that. He was struggling to control his emotions, but I could tell that Benny was just as confused as I was. His bulge was clearly pushing at the fabric of his pants, causing a significant indentation in my ribs. He couldn't keep his hands off me, and despite the family ties he swore by, I knew from past experiences that he wanted to sleep with me. My heart rate and blood pressure finally stabilized, and I realized my disheveled appearance. The shirt was sticking to me and soaked with perspiration. This was going to be a significant moral dilemma for both of us.
I had a muddled mess of brown knots for hair and my face was wet with sweat drops on my lips and neck. I should've had more important decisions to worry about, but my vanity and the fire in my vagina seemed to run on their own. Do all women, when faced with a man they find attractive, crumble and give into their animalistic tendencies regardless of the impending disastrous outcome? I pondered my shambly appearance and wondered if Benny's insistent horniness would be an effective aphrodisiac. I've never pursued seduction in dire situations, but it invariably results in sex. If I'd been thinking about seducing him, this appalling look would never pass. Then again, why can't I see past my demanding clit? Besides, he's my brother, who looked disheveled as well, his hair messy and his eyes appeared heavy with sleep, but I could still see the childishness of the ten-year-old version of Benny I left behind. But my pussy ruled my actions, often to my detriment.
I dashed to the bathroom and bathed my body in soap and water, while also rinsing my dried mouth with antiseptic, reappearing in my own thinner shirt that was see-through but I was too apathetic to care. I glanced at myself in the mirror. I was giddy as my large breasts jiggled and my pink nipples tried to harden. My long hair was combed, shiny, and bouncing. I thought about putting on makeup but decided against it. The underwear was soaked and almost helpless, so I considered ditching it but figured that was excessive.
If anyone asked me why, even in trying times, I always feel the need to look sensual and alluring, I'd say it's because I enjoy having sex and being sensual. This impulsive behavior has wreaked havoc on my life but as much as I've tried to fight it, I know I can't control my carnal instincts. I'm always ending up in shady situations and getting injured--physically or emotionally--but I love sex! And it always leads me to do irrational things.
So I fluffed my voluminous hair, pouted my ruby-red lips, and pinched the excited points on my bouncy breasts, and made my way back to the bedroom. My brother was standing by the bed, sporting a worried look on his handsome face. After all, the nearly naked woman in front of him was his eleven years elder sister. His massive erection was clearly visible beneath his wet boxers, and he was biting his lips. He was uncertain whether his provocative actions had driven me away from the bed or brought out my sensual side. And either way, he was considering the forbidden taboo of incest.
Benny held glasses of cold juice for us both and, after an uncomfortable moment of silence, we lay back on the bed. This time, however, we were a bit more self-aware and attentive of our surroundings. I was still jumpy, so Benny continued to hold me as we made space for the dog, forcing us into a crowded spot on the bed. His powerful arm was draped over my shoulder, and his another hand combed through the tangles in my hair. I was resting back against his broad shoulders, leaning on his solid chest. Again, a sensual longing enveloped us like a cloud of forbidden ardor.
My brother's physique was chiseled from manual work, and his upper body was like a map of a mountainous terrain. I can't remember the last time I had intercourse with a younger man. He wouldn't be on top of me, but he was built like him. His rugged chin was bristling with dark stubble that tickled my skin and his soft tones were calming to my ears as he urged me to relax. There was a distinct sexual energy in the air, tainted with the icky scent of incestuous temptation. I was getting wet, in spite of my instincts kicking me away from him. Why didn't either of us move to another room or sleep on the couch? Or fight these illicit desires?
I gradually shifted my body toward his, secretly hoping that these misguided emotions would subside. However, we both sensed the signs and chose to disregard the alarm bells. We were essentially cuddling, with my head resting on his one arm, while the other wrapped around my waist. Initially, it felt heavy and restricting, but soon I found it touching and comforting. No man had made me feel this way in a long time, and I briefly considered the idea that he might just be a kind brother. I'd always been skeptical of men's intentions, but his intentions were anything but clear.
We tried to fall back asleep, while I was thrilled by the sensual feelings of his questing hands roaming up and down my quivering body beneath my sheer shirt. As I writhed under the seductive pull of his massage, my butt shifted back, nestling into his firm groin. Could this slow, trance-inducing touch be leading toward foreplay? I was certainly getting aroused by the erotic manipulation, regardless of the cause, and his hesitant attempts to avoid my breasts and pussy, but the playful touch of his fingertips on my quivering belly felt so enticing. The room temperature rose, and I could feel the moisture in my uterus start to saturate my lower half. My feeble breaths came out as purring sighs, and my pussy silently begged for attention, causing involuntary shivers to ripple through my body, which he couldn't help but notice.
His hand drifted upward to my ribcage, spurred on by the obvious signs of my writhing body, where he traced slow circles on my sensitive skin, causing surges of pleasure to course through my veins. He never quite touched my breasts; either from extreme caution or knowing precisely how to arouse a woman in desperate need, though I wouldn't have stopped him, but I occasionally felt the tips of his fingers brushing the tender undersides of my breasts, causing me to gasp involuntarily. My brain was reeling with the quandary of wanting something so depraved yet not wanting my baby brother to lose himself in my depravity. Then, realizing I'd caught on to his immodest advance, his hand slid down my curved abdomen and hovered over the mound of my public bone, caressing and patting the trembling skin longingly awaiting his touch, just below the dampening cotton.
We struggled for composure under the mild sheet that had suddenly become heavy and confining. My backside pressed against his pelvis, and I could feel the warmth and heft of his pulsating erection pushing against my plump butt cheeks. Both bodies were now slick with sweat, and our intertwined limbs glistened in the sideways light from the window. We fought for space but also pushed closer, creating a unique tension. The restrictive, damp sheet was set aside, and in the pale light of a waning moon, our half-naked forms slid and wriggled on the mattress in a suggestive dance of unrestrained desire. We seem to be battling the urge to progress but couldn't help but be drawn to the forbidden ecstasy of incestuous passion. I felt a lump in my throat and struggled to find the words as I imagine he was, so we befuddled around in awkward silence. Our breathing became rapid and the quiet room was charged with sexual energy.
Where our forms joined, the heat was intense. My shirt, the second one I'd worn in two hours, was already wicking away my perspiration, and our intertwined legs were slick with molten heat. The wet fabric clung to my trembling hips and stressed out the full C-cups, yearning to be fondled and cherished. I could feel his large, rigid penis nestled between the moistened cheeks of my ass, prevented from entering only by the flimsy material of my damp underwear. My panties were soaked with the essence of my copious lubrication. His breath was warm on my neck, and his hand now seemed to claim the area near the damp waistband of my underwear where his fingers idly tapped upon the soft, warm material. He was like a little boy again, sneakily touching the lid of the cookie jar, waiting for permission or for a lapse in caution when he could take a treat.
The rumbling purr coming from my throat had now progressed into a frantic moan that I couldn't control. My heart rate soared and my entire body was drenched in sweat. My nipples were rock hard, jutting out prominently through the sticky, wet material of my tight, clinging top. Ben must have been able to feel the intense passion and the wet heat emanating from my dripping pussy. His pelvis was grinding against my ass, and his alabaster shaft thumped against my inviting butt cheeks. It felt like a sledgehammer pounding on the crease between my thighs. His palm slid to the front of my soaked panties and he roughly groped my fiery snatch. His grip tightened on the "Y" at my crotch as his fingers frantically pushed aside the damp cotton barrier obstructing his exploration.
This wasn't a brotherly massage given to an agitated sibling anymore. Only the sodden, stretched fabric of our underwear had stopped us from committing an indecent and perverse act. I felt his warm lips glide along my neck and his teeth nibble the lobe of my ear. An electric tingle ran through my entire body, signaling that I'd never experienced anything like this before. His rapid, labored breaths mingled with my own, while his other hand clutched my heaving breasts in his meaty palm. His large hand alternated between cupping each of my breasts and squeezing them both. His moist, soft kisses wet my neck in rapid, shallow gulps as his fingers twisted and pulled at my taut nipples. We were dangerously close to crossing a line without any boundaries.
I could feel a shudder and then Ben's body tensed. He seemed to slow down his fervent desires but didn't let go of my trembling anatomy. We were nearing a powerful, urgent climax of emotions. Our bodies moved restlessly, and the energy was through the roof. And then, something changed. He paused for a moment. "Lizzie," he began, and it felt like his hot touch turned to ice.
I stiffened too. I was afraid of what was about to be asked. It had been following me for years. And now, this dreaded question was finally going to be asked. I had often prepared a response or a defense for this moment, but nothing would make the past seem acceptable. So, I put on a brave face and was ready for the interrogation. I took a deep breath and felt the hesitation in his voice, but I knew it was the question he needed to ask. "Go ahead Benny. You're my brother, and I care about you. I owe you the honest answer."
He cleared his throat and let out a deep sigh. "Is it true, what everyone said about you?" The question had haunted me for ages. "Is that why you ran away and we never heard from you?" He resumed massaging my tense back, but his passionate touch had waned. I couldn't see his eyes, but I felt it in his fingers caressing me. He felt remorseful for interrupting our intimate moment but still needed to question me. He continued to kiss my neck and hold me close.
"I was too young when it happened. And when mom died, and it was all my fault, I couldn't face our neighborhood. They all hated me and I couldn't blame them, but I'm not a slut! I'm really not. I just knew that no matter what happened, I would be blamed. I tried to call you a few times but dad wouldn't let me speak. And he told me that I was a whore who led him into sin and killed mom. He was a miserable bastard and I'm glad he's dead."
"If he raped you, why didn't you tell anyone? We would have understood." Shivers shot through my body and goosebumps broke out on my skin. This was the moment I had feared the most.
He was still rubbing my back but no longer touched me in a sensual manner. The brief kisses he planted on my neck were less sensual and more for emotional support. It was terrible that this passionate moment had turned into a prying inquiry about incest, but I needed to disclose the dark secret and release the guilt I was carrying. When Ben saw the torment I was going through and the shame I was admitting to, he held onto me like a loving brother. I gathered my courage and continued.
I expressed the coolness in Benny's hand for a brief moment when I answered, "Were they never told you what my mother said?" Benny presumed that I left because I was scared of our dad. Now, I was dreading that I would devastate his affection for his sister who he thought was unjustly forced out of her home. However, he deserved to learn the truth from me.
It would be unpleasant and awkward, but hopefully not unforgivable.
"No Benny." My voice trembled, unable to gaze into those melted, chocolate-colored eyes. "It was incest... but it wasn't rape. I loathed him, yet he didn't pressure me. At the beginning... but I can't completely blame him." The steeliness in me that I believed I possessed betrayed me. Tears began to roll down my cheeks, but they were more for Benny than for me. "I allowed him to touch me. I knew it was wrong. But it was enticing. I couldn't explain it and I'll never understand why, but it aroused me. And I wanted to understand what it feels like to be a woman."
"Oh, um." Benny's reaction was unexpected. I responded dryly, "Dad only shared the terrible things he said about you." I attempted to rule out my anger that was bubbling to the surface. "No, I'll admit my part." I started over, "I was curious. Dad shocked me the first time, but I had noticed him peeking at me and straying into my room or bathroom 'accidentally' trying to surprise me naked." I had tried over the years to forget the original humiliation, but the intense emotions of learning the impact of sexual power, and the pleasurable release of submission, was such an erotic rush that I craved those feelings and couldn't deny my fixation.
I omitted the gory details and simply reassured him that I wasn't remorseful for exploring various instances of sexual intercourse, or doubling, or sometimes simultaneous coupling, or even bisexual coupling. I told him that the only thing I truly regretted was that it was our father. And I added, "And I'm not sorry for it because of the incest. It didn't bother me as much as you might imagine." But because our father was a swine.
Benny interrupted me with a sharp intake of breath. "Do you mean that the sex meant more to you than the family?"
Benny had an acute memory, so I tried to simplify it for him without incriminating every single act in my adult life. "I never liked the word 'nymphomaniac,' but I came close." I began, "a 'nympho' would have an almost irrepressible need for sex regardless of the situation, I wasn't that extreme. I simply discovered that I really enjoy sex and having sex with anyone doesn't bother me." Possibly, I was underestimating myself. I'm closer to being a nympho than I want to be. "Yes, sweetheart. I like sex. I like bringing pleasure to the person I'm with. I even enjoy making women feel good."
He didn't seem entirely pleased with my self-serving response, but my determination was firm. I've stopped hiding who I am. This is my brother, but we really didn't know each other, and previous actions, particularly by me, could significantly alter our present and future. It continued to be challenging to look directly at him because in my mind's eye he was still a sixth-grade child waving goodbye to me with a tear in his eye, so many years ago. While he watched me, I also attempted to recall that he was now a grown, attractive male who had almost embraced me in a filthy act. So I closed my eyes and examined him. Plus, there was an unusual atmosphere in the room. This was a sensitive moment in both of our lives, and I was about to complicate it even further.
Here you go, I pondered. "I relish the act of sex and its amazing aftermath; I truly thrive on being able to evoke those sensations in others. Sex doesn't necessarily need to be a commitment, but it must be enjoyable. I've tried time and again to subdue my inhibitions, but I inevitably end up agitated and isolated. Why should I touch myself when there are so many feet of cock in the world? I'm not a prostitute. I won't bed just anyone, and I will not bed for payment. However, I will confess that I have used people in my sexual exploits, and the fact that we both walk away with something only heightens the experience." I was now verbally drifting and appearing insane. How does one justify such actions to anyone, let alone your sibling? And even more so while lying naked in their arms... in bed? Wouldn't it only take one solitary utterance to capitulate to your inappropriate yearnings and let them defile you? I shifted my body to face him in the dim room as the sun's glow softened. I wasn't sure what I expected to see in his gaze.
He didn't appear nauseated, which was a relief. And he didn't show signs of disappointment, which astonished me. And from the way his warm brown eyes bore their consistent stare onto mine, and with the sizable bulge in his shorts rubbing against my bare leg, his "look" conveyed a depraved, crass sexual desire. "Are you claiming that you don't care with whom you have sex?" He questioned. Then a rather lustful sneer curled his previously charming countenance.
"I care about whom I'm with," I attempted to clarify. "I just don't care who they are." This likely sounded bizarre, but I was referring to the fact that as long as we both understood the purpose and intention, we should solely focus on satisfying one another and indulging in delight." I proclaimed with a mischievous wink. Then I caressed my soft palm across his stubble-covered cheeks, feeling his altering expression.
The decision was his to make. He didn't stumble. His hand reached for the damp lower edge of my tattered nightshirt and he tugged it over my mounds, until the need for me to raise my torso became necessary for it to be fully discarded. If we both consented to this next transgression, it was made evident. Handling me provided evidence of his willingness. "If this is your preference, I'm all in." I murmured, feeling surprisingly nervous. He responded forcefully, straddling me and attaching his lips to my mounds, as if a greedy flea on a dog. I've witnessed lust on multiple occasions, but his burning yearning was enticing combined with the incestuous depravity of my sibling. Something... anything... should have smothered my desire since this association was evoked. But this is the form of primitive craving that enflames me when my passion is aroused.
"Ohhh Lizzy," he half-murmured, half-shrieked. "These are the most enticing breasts I've ever gazed upon."
"If only you had seen them when I was younger. Indeed, I wish it had been you who experienced my first time." A casual chuckle escaped us both as we retracted from the decorous confines of time and the blatant age disparity was made evident. But I tenderly cradled both of my generous bosoms in my delicate palms and offered them to his eager lips. His raspy tongue accomplished the rest. He circled the tender areolas and bit at the taut, elastic nipples, igniting tingling impulses throughout me. I could hear him humming as he sucked my breasts and I embraced his head to my chest. His hands gripped my quaking form, restraining me tightly and he indulged in my chest. As enthusiastic as he was about my breasts, he was attempting to elicit a reaction from me. Given my familial connection to him, this was hardly surprising.
Many men have praised and yearned for my ample breasts, but they all wanted to reach my pussy. Benny took his time to kiss and nibble on my voluptuous chest, which aroused my desires. He never looked away from my wobbly boobs, and the entire encounter was more satisfying than I could have imagined. The intensity in my pelvis intensified and became a torrent of ecstasy, causing my body to writhe on the bed. The arousal was building up fast, and I knew that I was about to experience a wonderful orgasm as he sucked on my breasts. He pleased me even more by massaging my big breasts while I wallowed in the aftermath of my release. I was thankful for young men and their enthusiasm. Benny's tongue caressed my chest, while he squeezed my wobbly boobs, allowing me to recover slowly. It had been a while since any man delighted me first. In his excitement, he almost forgot about the rest of me until I grabbed onto his massive dick from the front of his tight shorts.
Benny enjoyed the sensation of me pulling on his erect shaft, effectively rubbing his pre-cum between his tool and my hand. I examined the veins that zigzagged beneath the thick flesh, along with the large vein that flowed from his testicles to the head of his penis. He gazed into my eyes as I applied the lube, not knowing what to do next. With a grin, I used my hand to direct his cock toward my throbbing opening, and he entered me. "Liz, ever since I saw you at the old place, I've wanted to fuck you." I acknowledged his compliment but, considering my tired and haggard appearance earlier in the day and the teasing I did at the bar, I figured he could've chosen any woman with his legs spread. I merely smiled in response and tightened my hold on him.
His sizeable shaft began to penetrate my tight passage. He felt a bit uncomfortable initially due to the size of his member, and I had to withstand the pain, having not been intimate for some time. However, the discomfort was soon replaced by pleasure and the juices in my vagina started to flow. My body was begging for satisfaction. The tip of his hard tool filled me completely. Benny agreed to give me pleasure first as he found his place and began thrusting. "Liz, I've always wanted to fuck you," he proclaimed. I appreciated his compliment but, given my worn-out appearance that afternoon and our flirty banter at the bar, he might have chosen any girl with her legs spread out. I simply smiled back and held him tighter.
His massive member crept inside me gently, reaching my opening and custom-made for him. A slight whimper of discomfort emerged as the girth stretched my tight channel. This small resistance only served to heighten my arousal even more. With every thrust, his pulsating shaft rubbed roughly against my g-spot, causing me to shatter. I implored him to ram me, and he complied by pumping faster until his member forced its way into me.
Knowing that I'd waited for this for so long, Benny did his best to satiate me. His huge tool slowly entered my narrow channel. Ouch. I could feel the stretch in my pussy walls, a reminder of my long break from sex. My dripping canal yearned for this satisfaction. With each of his strokes, the full head of his phallus filled me. He increased the force of his thrusts while I rubbed my swollen clit. After some time, it felt as if we had developed a steady rhythm. "Fuck me harder," I begged.
Benny complied by slamming his cock into me with force, aiding the movement with the strength of his hips. I arched my back to match the pace of his thrusts and succeeded in keeping up with his movements. My breasts swayed and quivered as I reached my climax. I let loose every profanity I knew, urging him to finish this deed. "I'm here to fulfill your desires," I told him. "Fuck me hard. I want to be your slut woman." He increased the force of his thrusts, daring me to take it.
I reached down and held his round ass, bringing him even closer to me. As he thrust deeper, I snuggled against him. His shaft rubbed against the lower walls of my vagina, causing me to soar towards climax. My insides tensed, and my body began to convulse. "Fuck me harder," I moaned. He obliged by thrusting with force, his entire body tensing up from the effort. This persisted for two whole minutes until he released. He looked down at me with a contented smile.
After he pulled his flaccid penis out of my raw vagina and a pool of stain-like fluid dripped between my legs, I searched for any hint of regret on his face. Instead, I saw the shameless grin of a lewd devil. The shy grin of a remorseful child was gone, replaced by the lascivious smirk of a lustful sinner. He said this was the most satisfying he'd ever had and asked if I enjoyed it. In reply, I bent down and took his hot, salty appendage into my mouth. His brown eyes widened as I enveloped his semi-limp member, still slick with our cum, and drew it into my needy mouth. I sucked on it like I was a young child and his delightful tool swelled and lengthened. Praise young men for their recuperative abilities.
I kissed the smooth, cylindrical head of his stiff instrument and it rapidly grew erect. My palm encircled the solid base with my fingers just grazing it. Gentle, wet kisses were placed on the spongy lollipop and my tongue collected a delicate thread of his translucent semen, inhaling it back into my mouth. I licked under the bendable cap and down along the intense length and size of his porcelain rod. The pulsating in the firm member and the shuddering from root to end informed me this young man would provide me with a laudable supply of male seed for as long as I desired.
With a few quick strokes up and down the veiny pipe and taking the knob into my mouth for some long, strong suction; I didn't have long to wait before I detected the tremble in the shaft and perceived his testicles contracts, so I relaxed my mouth and let his solid shaft fill my cheeks and travel to the rear of my gullet. He gripped my head, running his rough fingers through my brown locks, and merged his cock with my throat. He shoved into me, and I slobbered over the sides of his fleshy tool, attempting to breathe through my nose but struggling to breathe. Decaying glops of saliva splashed into my valley and my lips were elongated to contain the pulsing piston. With a determined thump, Benny drained his organ down my throat and continued to penetrate, causing me to inhale his entire load if I desired to avoid drowning in my brother's sperm.
After he finished ejaculating, and the arousal lowered a bit, I could ease back and let his thick shaft exit my gaped maw. I had to rapidly stretch my jaw and I scampered for breath, feeling the excess saliva dripping from my redden chin to my mucky breasts, but he was overjoyed to note that the slimy, white syrup he had so exertively launched in me, directly went to my abdomen. His face melted with genuine love and his excitement was immense after witnessing and experiencing this raw, incestuous thrill. He hugged me tightly and we kissed passionately, an affection I hadn't experienced for some time and wasn't expecting from my brother. But it was truly reassuring.
Benny appraised me with wonderment and adoration. It no longer mattered that we were both nude and covered in bodily fluids. His hand settled back on my left breast and he fondled it lovingly. My hand instinctively moved to his softening cock, just to check how soon it would regain its rigidity. I could immediately see that I'd have no cause for disappointment. His enthusiastic gaze followed my movements and he was glad to witness his passing the test. "That was the best sex I've ever dreamed about. I can't believe it happened as it did." He was gushing with emotion and I could see that he was no longer a child, but an adept sexual partner.
I smiled and answered, "Wasn't it hard for you knowing I'm your sister?"
"Not the slightest bit. That was magical! I could become accustomed to this."
"Well," I said, "I'm searching for a place to reside and I don't have any money."
"You mentioned before you could cook, and I have an extra room."
"Great, I can place my suitcase there. I despise sleeping alone."
"Welcome home, Lizzie. It's been far too long."
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