Path: not-for-mail
Newsgroups: alt.sex.incest.stories
Subject: Title story: "Sibling Romance 2" Author: INCEST MAN 58127799
From: Family Man <familyincest@graffiti.net>
Lines: 102
Message-ID: <J8T8f.101913$3k2.80449@fe08.news.easynews.com>
X-Complaints-To: abuse@easynews.com
Organization: EasyNews, UseNet made Easy!
X-Complaints-Info: Please be sure to forward a copy of ALL headers otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint properly.
Date: Sat, 29 Oct 2005 22:58:49 +0000
===================
http://www.incesttabooo.com/
Sibling Romance 2 By Robert I had a lot of guilt and anxiety about what my
sister and I had done. Especially before we talked in the kitchen that night, I
was wracked with feelings of guilt. Because I had been so drunk the night we
made love, I had some unanswered questions about whether on not I had used any
force. I really felt bad. When we talked in the kitchen, my voice was shaking
with remorse and anxiety and --well, lust. I asked her (trying to get around
having to say "Did I rape you?--Jeeze) "Was there any force used?" and she said,
"Well, no--not exactly. You were very determined, but I didn't say "no." It's my
fault too--I opened my legs for you--you didn't do anything to me that I didn't
want you to do. We were both really drunk." I was very, very relieved. I was
also startled when she took my hand and led me to her room, but of course, in
that state of anxiety and arousal, I would have done anything she wanted. At
first, we were standing there kissing and fondling each other in the dark--I was
breathing ragged breaths like a steam engine, and the fact that I obviously
wanted her so much made her excited, too, and she asked me "Do you want to do it
to me that bad?" and I answered in a hoarse whisper, "Yes. Just once more and we
won't do it again, I promise." She lifted her arms and I pulled her nightgown
over her head and skimmed out of my underwear and we climbed into her old-
fashioned brass bed. She raised her legs and put her heels on my shoulders. I
was as gentle as I could be, but when I went deep, I went just as deep as my
penis would go, and with each stroke she let out a little "Oh!" noise. After I
came, the guilt washed over me again. My god, what am I doing, she's your
sister, what if she gets pregnant? We lay there breathing hard for a few minutes--
listening to the silence of the dark house. I was straining to hear any sign
that my Mom or other sisters might be awake or had heard us. I whispered, "I
better go to bed," and she whispered back "Be careful on the stairs, I can hear
it when you come down at night to the kitchen." I started to get up, to pull out
of her, and she reached up and took my face in both her hands and gave me a
long, tender kiss of love and whispered "I love you, brother." I whispered back
"I love you too, honey. See you in the morning." At breakfast, I could not
detect a single thing different. She was her usual bouncy good-natured self. I
saw her talking to people at school, or on the phone with her boyfriend and I
was jealous. The brother-sister relationship we had, which of course included
some bickering and arguments, seemed unharmed. I was grateful. Although we had
said that it was the last time, I still thought about her all the time. I loved
her, as a sister, but I was also "in love" with her. Instead of Playboy models
or my girlfriend at school, I fantasized about her when I masturbated. She had
an argument with a boyfriend that she wasn't too serious about, and broke up
with him. I was trying to console her, and to find out what they argued about,
and she blurted out "Sex! He wanted to have sex again and I said no," she looked
up at me and said "You are the only one in my bed now. You--and you only." I
knew right then that we weren't going to stop. I leaned over to kiss her, and
she threw her arms around my neck and gave me a very deep, long kiss. And then
she whispered, "Promise me. Promise me you will never hate me." I replied, "Hate
you? How could I ever hate you? You're my little sister--I LOVE you, and I will
always love you." She actually continued to date him, but I stopped being
jealous. Whenever she would go out with him, we had this little game we played,
where I would wait up for her to get in, and she would wink and say "Not to
worry!" That meant, "No, he didn't get any!" There were plenty of opportunities
for us to be alone at home, but she was worried we would get caught eventually,
en flagrante delicto. I was very eager to make love again, so I suggested we
start "dating" so we could get away from the house together. A few times we just
"went to the movies together" and wound up in the back seat of my mother's
station wagon in the parking lot of a nearby university, but I was really
concerned that this was a great deal more dangerous than just sneaking around at
home when everyone was asleep. Eventually, she found a girl at school who was
dating a boy of whom her parents highly disapproved. Under the guise of "helping
them out" we arranged for me to ask the girl out, and he to ask my sister out,
then we would meet and swap dates. The great part about this idea was that we
had a great excuse for being out on a date, all dressed up, together in public.
We did all the things that teenagers do, walked holding hands at the mall,
smooched in the movies, went out to eat. We lived near the Gulf of Mexico, and
used to drive down and spend the day at the beach, surfing and sunbathing. We
used to drive way down the island to a secluded spot and sunbathe nude in the
sand dunes. It was heaven. And, of course, we had plenty of opportunities to
make love. And then, she missed her period. She told me, jokingly, "Hey, you're
going to be an uncle." "What?" "Yeah, I might be preggers--I'm a week late." We
both laughed. Three weeks later, it wasn't funny, and she began to get morning
sickness. We decided that she should immediately sleep with her "boyfriend" and
claim that the baby was his, then get an abortion. That's what we did. Abortion
was illegal in our state then, but she and my mother flew to California and she
had one there. I stayed at home, and went out and got roaring drunk. I was mourning--
I knew things would never be the same. About a week after they returned, I
sneaked downstairs at night to talk to her. She was a little depressed ("I
didn't want to have the abortion, really, but I knew we couldn't have the baby.
It was so sad.") We kissed for a while, laying on her bed, and then she said "My
boobs are getting bigger." "What?" "They are. Look!" She raised her babydoll
nightgown, and I could see that she was right. Shyly, she whispered "Do you want
to taste it?" meaning the milk, and I was just at a peak of lustful anxiety and
raggedly whispered back, "Yes!" She let me nurse for a long time at both
breasts. The milk did not taste sweet, though, it really tasted kind of bitter,
because she was on antibiotics from the abortion. "Did you like it?" she asked,
and I fervently said "Yes--thank you, it was so wonderful." I was just marveling
at the amazing illicitness of it--I was nursing mother's milk from my OWN SISTER
who had been pregnant with MY OWN BABY. I could practically smell the sulphur
fumes from Hell from where I was laying. "We really have to stop," she said. "I
know." "No, really." "I know." "I have some PhisoHex in my bathroom (this is a
type of antibacterial soap no longer sold.) I can't get pregnant now. If you
wash with PhisoHex, we can do it one last time." I was as concerned as she was
about infecting her with something. I washed with Phisohex, and then, very
gently, we made love again. I started to pull out for coitus interruptus (I
normally came inside her) and she said, "No, don't leave! It's okay. Just this
one last time." So I slid it as deeply and as gently as I could, and came inside
of her as we held each other. Upstairs in my room, smelling her pussy on me, I
cried into my pillow. Life seemed so fucked up. I loved her, she loved me, why
couldn't we just be allowed to do what seemed so right and so natural? END
End
Real INCEST : http://www.incesttabooo.com/