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Subject: Title story: "A Midnight Woman Ch. 2" Author: Incestor 64060557
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Date: Fri, 06 Jan 2006 14:58:32 +0000
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http://www.incesttabooo.com/
A Midnight Woman Ch. 2 by atotk Part One of this story is posted in Erotic
couplings. You might want to read it also, to see how this started.
* * * * * He was an hour late for work, unshaved and he looked like hell as he
made his way through the maze of desks and cubicles to his corner office. He
closed the door behind him, threw his coat over a chair and closed the blinds
to the outer offices. He needed time to think about last night, and he didn't
need any interruptions. He sat down at his desk and gazed out the window at
the surrounding buildings and the traffic, 10 floors below. He wished he could
fly. Fly away. He spun his chair back to his desk and that's when he saw it.
The simple white envelope extending from his partially closed laptop. He
lifted the screen to the computer and picked up the envelope. Nothing was
written on the outside, but he knew who it was from. It was from her. It was
from his sister. He opened it and read the first words, "To my dearest
Brother." A choke caught in his throat. He laid his head on the back of his
chair and closed his eyes, clasping the letter in his hand. His mind rushed
past the events of last night to an evening seven years before. He was twenty
one and home for the winter break before his final semester at college. He and
his sister lived with their father in an affluent suburb of a large Midwestern
city. Their mother died when he was thirteen and his sister ten. It had been a
brain tumor, and she had suffered horribly. And so his father had been left to
take care of the boy and girl on his own. The father was an executive for a
major pharmaceutical company and was away on business a lot, so it was left to
the boy to look after his little sister. They had grown very close. This night
was his sister's eighteenth birthday, and her friends had taken her out for
her initiation into the world of adulthood, basically to buy her a few 'legal'
beers. Their father had been called out of town for a business appointment,
leaving the son alone in the house with his sister. He did not expect to see
her until bar closing time. So, he was very surprised when the doorbell rang
at 9:30, and he opened it to see his sister's limp body splayed across the
front porch. He stepped out into the night chill to see if anyone else was
there, but there was no one. He grabbed her shoulder and shook it, but she did
not respond. The smell of beer was strong on her breath. She was passed out.
He slid his arms under her legs and shoulders and lifted her slight frame to
his chest. He pushed the door open with his foot and carried her into the
house, kicking the door shut behind him. He slowly carried his unconscious
sister up the stairs to her room. The room was dark except for the ambient
glow from the hallway lamp. He gently laid her on the bed and pulled off her
fur-lined parka. As he did this, she groaned and rolled toward him, her soft
blue cashmere sweater riding up, exposing the smooth skin of her belly. He
looked at her breasts, barely hidden now, as they rose and fell with her
breathing. He could plainly see the outline of her nipples through the fabric.
There was no bra. He pushed the thought from his mind and moved to the end of
the bed. He pulled off her loafers and socks and looked up the length of her
legs. He knew he should just throw the covers over her and let her sleep it
off. But he didn't. Instead, he decided that he would undress her, put her
pajamas on and let her sleep it off comfortably. She was his sister, after
all. They had taken baths together when they were little, hadn't they? He
reached for the waistband of her pleated skirt and undid the top two buttons.
He hesitated one last second and then pulled off the skirt. He was stunned to
see his little sister wearing no panties. He couldn't believe it. It had to be
a trick her friends had played on her before they dumped her on the doorstep.
He wanted not to look, but he couldn't help himself. He pulled her leg toward
him spreading her as he did. He saw her feminine folds open to his view and
noticed that the dark hair had been neatly trimmed away from the lips. He
gasped as he felt himself harden. His thoughts were turning to those he knew
were wrong, but he wasn't sure he could stop them. He moved further up the bed
and gently pulled the sweater over her head. And then he had to stand up to
look at the full length of his sister. She was more than he could have
imagined. Her hair was long and dark and had fallen over her face. Her breasts
were small but turned up with perfect brown nipples. Her stomach was flat and
her waist slender. Her legs were long and elegantly shaped. My God, she was
beautiful. He was rock-hard now, as he sat back down on the edge of the bed.
His mind was reeling, but he couldn't stop. He placed his hand between her
legs and quietly began to stroke her. She stirred, but remained asleep. He
reached his other hand to feel the supple firmness of her breasts, taking one
nipple between his fingers, feeling it harden to his touch. His fingers began
to move faster in her as she became more and more moist. He increased the
pressure on her tiny sensitive button, and she seemed to respond by moving her
hips slightly against his hand. It was more than he could take. He removed his
hand from her breasts and undid his belt, hurriedly pulling his pants and
underwear down and over his hips allowing his straining erection to come free.
As he continued to bury his fingers inside his sister, he began to pump
himself furiously, knowing he didn't have long. And then he heard a slight
moan escape her throat and he felt her legs clamp together, trapping his
fingers. He continued stroking himself as he saw her body start to shudder. It
was too much. He felt the eruption from within him in agonizing spurts, that
felt so good. He saw the semen arc from him onto his sister belly and breasts.
It seemed to keep coming forever. He wanted it to. He closed his eyes and
stroked the last drops out of himself, just as his sister's legs relaxed their
grip on him. Her hips slumped back into the bed. Moments later, as his senses
came back to him, he felt a panic. He pulled her beautiful hair way from her
face but she remained unconscious, her breathing returning to normal. He
looked down at her body with his white seed covering her and guilt overcame
him. "What have I done," he thought, "what have I done?" He walked into the
bathroom they shared across the hall and ran warm water over a washcloth. He
wiped himself off first and pulled his slacks back up. He rinsed out the
washcloth again and moved back to her. He cleaned himself off of her. He moved
to her dresser and got out her pajamas. After only a small struggle, he had
her clothed and under the covers. He looked down at his beautiful little
sister lying there, passed out, and not so little anymore. He bent over and
kissed the top of her head. And then he left, closing her door behind him. He
walked back downstairs, put on his parka and stepped out the back patio doors,
into the cold December night air. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a
pack of cigarettes, lit one and leaned back against the house. He knew he had
done wrong. She was his sister and it was forbidden. But he had been unable to
stop and, God help him, it had felt so good. Thankfully, she had not awakened.
He began to cry. That was seven years ago, and it was like yesterday. His
sister had awakened the next day with a gigantic hangover. She had come down
into the kitchen, still in her pajamas. She had asked him if he had put them
on her and he told her yes. She thanked him, kissed his cheek and then never
said another word. It would remain his secret, his terrible secret. And it
did. Until last night. He opened his eyes to the present and began to read the
letter his sister had written. "My dearest Brother, I believe I know what you
are thinking after last night. You're thinking what we did was wrong. And me,
I don't know what I think about last night. But I know what I felt, and it
didn't feel wrong. It felt good. It felt very good. I loved your touch on me
and in me. And I loved taking you into my mouth and feeling you swell and
hearing you groan. And I loved having your tongue taste me. I have wanted this
to happen for a long time now. Seven years, to be exact. Yes, my brother, I
know what happened that night. I was drunk, but I was aware. I know you
thought I was still passed out, but your touch brought me awake. I acted
asleep because I knew you would stop and run if you knew I was awake. Your
fingers in me that night made me cum like no one ever had or has since. I can
make myself wet just thinking about it. And when you came all over me, well,
it was thrilling to have that effect on you. But, I didn't know what to do
afterward, so I pretended. And then you went back to school and graduated and
got this job so far away. And, so for the past seven years I have wondered.
All through college, I fucked lots of boys. I say fucked not made love,
because I have never made love or felt it since that night. And with you
throwing yourself into your writing and not getting married, well, I just had
to know what it would be like with you for real. And, now I know. And I loved
it. I loved it so much it made me laugh. And even though you left so quickly,
I know you loved it too. I also know your guilt is eating away at you. We
'broke the rules' we did the 'forbidden.' But whose rules? Not mine. And if
you really think about how you felt seven years ago and how you were last
night, I think you know they are not your rules either. So, I will be coming
to you again soon. I won't tell you when, but very soon. And we will taste
each other again. Until then, I love you. He dropped the letter into his lap
and just stared out the window, and thought about what she had said. Was she
right? Were his feelings of guilt wrong? He didn't know. But he believed he
was about to find out. He handed the cabbie a twenty and hopped out. He walked
quickly past the doorman, nodding, and into the lobby. His apartment was on
the 14th floor overlooking the city. He pressed the button for 14 and hoped no
one on another floor would stop his ascent. Since it was after eleven p.m. he
thought his chances were good. He was right. The elevator doors silently
opened onto his hallway. Each floor had 4 condominium apartments. His was
1402. It was an expensive place to live, and truth be known, it was beyond his
means. But he figured that he was a bachelor, he didn't have a lot of other
expenses, the magazine was paying him decent money and what the hell, he
deserved it. As he opened his door, he immediately heard, "Don't turn on the
light." And then he saw the orange glow of her cigarette as she inhaled.
Startled as he was, he knew who it was. He had been half expecting her. It was
the first time he had seen his sister since that night. He closed the door
behind him and threw his keys on the foyer table. It had been three days since
they had been together, and he had been able to think of nothing and no one
else. "Hello, Dee, I guess we need to talk." Her name was Deanna. "Yes, Brian,
we do," as she took another drag. "I didn't know you smoked. When did you
start?" He had seen very little of his sister the past seven years. He left
the mid-west and came to New York immediately following graduation, to take a
job with the magazine. His sister had gone to school on the west coast and
their time together had dwindled to just the holidays at their father's home.
That is, until his untimely heart attack a year and a half ago. After that,
Deanne had received her degree in advertising, and decided to pursue a career
California. Since that time, they had not been together at all until that
night. "I've smoked since high school, just not in front of Dad or you."
"Really. Give me one, will you?" "On the table," was her reply. He picked up
the pack and her lighter and lit one for himself, pulling the smoke deep into
his lungs. "God, this is awful," he coughed. "Yeah, but I like it." She was
silhouetted against the backdrop of the city skyline, her long hair pulled up
on top of her head and her knees drawn up into her chest as she leaned back
into the comfort of the overstuffed chair. "How did you get in here?" he
asked. "I told the doorman I was your sister. I even showed him my driver's
license. He was a pushover. It's amazing what a little touch on the forearm
and a smile will do to most men. I told him it was your birthday and I wanted
to surprise you by being here when you got home. I didn't think it would be so
late, though. I drank some of your scotch. Hope you don't mind." "Course not."
Brian sat down on the sofa opposite Deanna. "I've been here since five thirty.
I got hungry and helped myself to your refrigerator. Don't you ever save
anything? Not a damned thing to eat. I found a can of Campbell's soup. Not
great, but at least it was something. Anyway, I got bored, so I took a shower
and put on some of your clothes. That's okay, isn't it?" "Sure," he said,
realizing she was wearing an oversized tee shirt and his sweatpants. "Dee, the
other night, when I left, I didn't mean . ." "I know Brian, I understand. I
caught you off guard. I intended to, as a matter of fact. But, now here we
are, so let's talk. I'll start, okay?" She snuffed out her cigarette. "Yeah,
go ahead." "Okay. Well, like I said in the letter, ever since that night up in
my bedroom, I haven't been the same. You see, Brian, you were my big brother.
You were my hero. When you went away for college, I was devastated. It was
just Dad and me then. I was fifteen and I had no one to talk to. Dad had no
clue. He was wrapped up in work, and I basically lived my life on my own."
Deanna picked up her glass and sipped at the scotch. Then she continued, "I'm
sure you can remember what it was like when you were fifteen, can't you?"
Brian nodded, even though he wasn't sure exactly what she meant. "Well, I
remember when you were fifteen, Bri. I used to find your Playboy and Penthouse
magazines under your mattress, not to mention the used Kleenex. I was only
twelve, but I understood." Brian felt a slight flush come over his face. "So,
anyway, you can just imagine what it was like for me, basically alone in that
house most of the time. And I was becoming sexually aware, and I was
developing needs, just like you did. Do you know what I mean?" "Of course I
do, Dee, go on." "Well," she said after a slug of scotch and a drag on a newly
lit cigarette, "I used to play with myself, you know, masturbate, just like
you did. Only, instead of magazines, oh fuck Brian, how do I say this? Instead
of magazines, I would just pull out a picture of you and fantasize about being
with you. I would hold your picture in one hand and fuck myself with the other
hand." She took another long swig of scotch. "Dee, I had no idea." "Of course
not, big brothers never know. But I think a lot of girls fantasize about their
older brothers. Anyway, I sure did. Oh my God, did I!" "But what about other
boys?" Brian asked. "Oh there were plenty of them. I know I'm good looking. I
also know what that means when it comes to power over men and boys. I went out
with a lot of different boys in high school." "Any of them get serious?"
"Maybe, but I didn't. I guess you might say I was sort of a cockteaser. I
loved to get them all heated up it made me feel good and powerful. Sometimes,
I even gave them a feel, but just of my breasts and just through the sweater.
Somehow, even though my body was screaming out to be touched, I couldn't let
them. My mind kept going back to my big brother. Something made me stop and
wait for you, even though I had no idea anything like that night would ever
happen." "Dee, about that night, you know I never meant to do it. It just
happened. Afterward I felt so guilty." "I'm sure you did, Brian. But you see,
it was what I had been fantasizing about all the time you were away at
college. I'm not sure when it started. Maybe it was when Mom died, and with
Dad away so much, you just took care of me. You became my protector, my world.
I needed you." "That's completely natural, for brothers and sister, Dee."
"Sure it is, I know that, but somewhere along the line, it became more for me.
And I think for you too." Brian took a drag on his cigarette and dropped his
chin to his chest. "Remember how our bathroom door had the air-vent in the
bottom of it, Bri?" "Sure, I remember." "Well, I used to sit on the steps
below the door and look up through the vent at night. I would see you in there
reading those magazines, or at least looking at the pictures," she teased.
Brian smiled. "And I would be fascinated as you would start to beat off, and
how big your cock would get. And then I would watch your face and I would see
how your eyes would shut when you came. And it used to seem to me that you
would come forever, as I watched. And I would touch my clit as I watched you.
I didn't really even know what I was doing, but as time went on, I knew I
loved how it felt. I could see you loved it too." "And then, your senior year
in high school, I was sleeping over at Sherry's house and I realized I had
forgotten to bring any clean underwear so I ran home to get some. And, I
remember Dad was out of town. And I came in the back door and the house was
dark, but I heard music. I knew you had a date with that blonde bitch I hated,
what's her name." "Paula Perrault?" "Right, Paula. Anyway, I figured you must
have been making out, so I was real quiet. I snuck into the family room, and
the only light was the fireplace burning, and I saw you two. And she was
giving you a blowjob. And you know what Bri? I wasn't shocked, I was jealous.
I just wished that it was me and not her. I wished I could have been sucking
on your cock. I don't know why. I mean, I could have had plenty of boys, even
at fifteen. But it was you I wanted. It always was. It always has been." Dee
lit another from the burning but of her last cigarette. "Dee, there is nothing
wrong with a girl having a crush on her older brother, especially as close as
we were, given our circumstances." Brian poured himself a scotch. A tall one.
"Brian, get serious here, that was no crush. I didn't wish we could kiss and
cuddle. I wanted to make love with you. But of course, I knew that was never
going to happen. I knew it was 'forbidden' for a brother to fuck his sister."
Her use of the words surprised Brian, although he found himself getting
aroused. "So, then when you were home for Christmas that time, I'm not sure
exactly what happened, but when I came to, and you were feeling me, it was
like, well, like my dream come true. When you started fucking me with your
fingers, and playing with my tits, I almost couldn't stay still. But I didn't
want you to stop, and I though maybe you would take it all the way, and if you
did, then I would go with you. But, I guess something stopped you, but what
did happen was thrilling to me. I almost yelled when you made me come. And
when I felt your hot sperm landing on my tits, it was almost more than I could
take." Brian was staring intently at his sister now, unable to speak, not
wanting her to stop. "So, I won't bore you with the details since then, Bri,
I'm sure you can imagine the life of college girls. But I will tell you this:
Every cock I sucked, I imagined it was your's every guy I fucked had your face
and every time I came, I was back in my bedroom with your fingers in me." With
that, Dee put down her glass and cigarette and got up out of the chair. She
walked around the coffee table and knelt in front of Brian. "So, what do you
think, Bri, is your baby sister depraved? Am I wrong to feel the way I do
about you?" Brian was still speechless, but managed to shake his head from
side to side, letting Dee know that it was okay.
End
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