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Subject: incest story: "MY SISTER JEAN.  Chapter 2-3"                                                                                        312896
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Date: Wed, 22 Apr 2009 08:35:35 +0000

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http://www.incesttabooo.com/theincest.html

MY SISTER JEAN.  Chapter 2-3

By Billy G

Chapter 2 -- The Couch (continues here)

I really liked Jean.  Heck, I adored her.  She was a wonderful  sister
and I know she loved me as well.  So it wasn't an act when I  set  out
to be her champion.  I stuck up for her.  I defended her from my mom's
sometimes erratic sense of fair play and when my friends  teased  her,
I'd only let it go so far.  I'd let those guys know that  she  was  my
sister and not to disrespect her.  Jean, at first, was uncertain,  but
her loving  nature  pushed  right  through.   She  spoke  to  me  with
affection and began to engage  me  in  conversation,  at  first  about
inconsequential  things,  but  later  about  "boy-girl"  things.   Our
relationship had been changed.  It was growing more "real,"  never  to
go back to our old sibling rivalry.

Oh, my behavior around her hadn't changed.  I was still trying to look
down her blouse or up her dress.  I still  listened  at  the  bathroom
door.  But now, we were closer buddies.  She really liked  me,  so  it
was both easier to accept my aggressive sexuality and harder  for  her
to take offense at my shenanigans.  Added to that, I began  to  accept
myself a little more and was far less hesitant about letting her  know
that I was horny.

One afternoon, alone in the house together, she asked, "Can we have  a
heart-to-heart?"

Grinning and with a pointed look at her left breast,  I  said,  "Sure,
girl, I'd love to have a  heart-to-heart  with  you.   Your  place  or
mine?"

"Come-ON, you nit.  Be serious.  I need to talk with you, so get  your
mind out of the gutter."

Sprawling out on one end of a large sectional in the  living  room,  I
said, "Okay, okay, Sis, sit and talk to me.  What's happenin'?  What's
on your mind?  Boys?  Yeah, I'll bet that's what it is...boys, huh?"

Sitting opposite me and giving special attention to a  button  on  her
shirt, she didn't make eye contact, a sure sign of  her  embarrassment
about something.   "Well...kinda...that  is,  I  need  to...well,  I'd
*like* to ask you some questions about what boys  think  okay?"   When
Jean was uncertain of  herself,  she  often  placed  an  interrogatory
inflection on the last part of her sentences as if to say, "You know?"

"Only if you share with me...tit for tat, girl.  I'll tell you  things
what you wanna know -- if you tell  me  what  I  wanna  know...and  no
mincing around either.  Fair?"  It was always better to establish  the
rules of engagement with Jean.  More often, she was willing to give  a
little before the fact.  Before she became embarrassed and dug  in,  I
wanted her tacit agreement that if I  were  to  tell  her  "all  about
boys," I wanted reciprocity.  I'd been pulling her in  this  direction
for weeks and she was ever less reticent to 'fess up.

"Well...okay, but don't get too dirty again, will you...  promise?"

"Heck no.  I don't promise anything, except to be honest.   Where  can
you get a better deal than a promise of honesty?  The truth can't hurt
you, you know."  I was shamelessly playing on her  sense  of  morality
and fair play, trying to suggest that what she had to talk  about  was
probably just as "dirty" as my stuff.  (*I* didn't even believe that.)

Still pulling on the button, "Okay, little brother."  Then smiling, "I
do trust you."

Mentally rubbing my hands, I thought, yes...trust me...to try  to  get
into your pants, big sister.  Affecting a nonchalant  indifference,  I
leaned back (and almost fell off the couch) and said,  "Thanks.   Now,
shoot.  What's  on  your  mind,  woman?"   (She  loved  to  be  called
"woman.") Now that the general topic was  out  of  the  bag  and  we'd
established the ground rules, she visibly relaxed a little more.

Swinging around, she put her bare feet on the couch  her  skirt  down.
Out of my peripheral vision I noted that the  hem  of  her  skirt  had
fallen in such a fashion that I could see well  up  the  back  of  her
thighs.  This has potential I knew but I'd have to be careful  not  to
be too openly leering at her legs, at least at first.

Again, nervously tugging at the button on her shirt, she sat  silently
for a moment, I imagined composing her  question.   Whatever  it  was,
she'd been thinking about it for days at least, but  now  she  had  to
compose the words.  If nothing else, I was patient.  I waited  without
further prompting.

Finally, hesitantly, she stammered, "This is embarrassing, but .  .  .
when you...do you remember...uh, the time when you..."

"The time when I came?"  I offered.

Blushing and tugging more on the button, she nodded.

In a soft voice I admitted, "Yeah, well sure.  How can I  forget?   It
was the neatest thing ever happened.  What about it?"

"Uh...I've been wonderin', that ever happen before?  I mean, have  you
ever, uh, before...that is...oh shit!  I wanna  know.   Do  guys,  you
know...jack...uh, masturbate?"

Do guys...?  I couldn't believe it.  It was too good to be true.   I'd
been wondering for weeks how'd I'd get Jean to talk about masturbation
and now here it was, right out there, and she'd asked me!  Boy, was  I
going to have a good time with this one.  I thought it'd take  a  long
time to get up to The Topic and now, wham, here it was.

I almost fell off the couch again in an attempt to  look  casual.   My
dick was already stirring.  Cripes, I could see the bulge and  I  know
that if she looked, she could as well.  I was  now  the  one  who  was
almost tongue tied.  "Well  sure  guys  masturbate,  Jean.   At  least
everyone I know does, and all the time, or at least that's  what  they
say."

Jean gets  restless  when  she's  approaching  an  emotionally-charged
conversation and I was increasingly aware of her legs as  she  shifted
them back and forth.  Abruptly, they parted as she crammed both hands,
straigh armed, between her thighs.  I saw a flash of white, the crotch
of her panties.  It was more than a flash.  Actually, it was a several
second look and the poochy bulge that formed the crotch of her panties
was the sexiest thing in the world at that moment.  My mind went right
back to the memory when my nose was smashed next to her crotch and the
olfactory memory kicked in.  I could smell her, I thought.

"And you?"  she prompted.

"Geez, Sis.  I'm a guy!  Sure.  That is, I mean, I have,"  I  admitted
in an evasive way.

Tilting her head in way she had, she held out one hand,  palm  up  and
said, "Oh, I supposed you did...I mean, the way you're  always  trying
to look at me and all.  But what I was really wondering was, uh  .   .
.  how?"

"How?"  How what I wondered?

Now, her voice more certain, "Yeah.  Just *how* do you do it.  I mean,
the one time I saw you...you did it against the table.   Is  that  the
way you *always* do it?  I just wanna know."

Laughing, I replied, "That was the *only* time it happened  that  way,
Sis.  That just happened.  I didn't plan it.  I don't normally get off
on the table...I usually do it...uh, the usual way, you know."

With a trace of irritation she countered, "No, I* don't* know.  That's
why I'm asking.  I mean, if I knew, do ya think I'd be asking?  I know
how girls...I mean, I don't know how guys really do it."

For a moment I couldn't believe that Jean was that naive.  She  *must*
have known.  But, maybe she is as inexperienced  as  she  said  and  I
needed to give her support, not teasing.

"Okay, I think I understand what you want to know.   It's  like  this.
You know what a hard-on is, don't you...when a guy's dick  swells  and
get hard...when he's all excited?  Well, when my dick's hard,  I  just
wrap my hand around it and then stroke  it  up  and  down.   I  almost
always think of something sexy...you know, fantasize while  I'm  doing
it .  .  .  and before I know it, wham!  I come...and,  well  you  saw
what that's like."

"You think of something sexy?  Like what?  A movie star or  a  picture
in Penthouse?"

"Well, I have thought of girls I've seen in sexy magazines,  but  most
of the time I think of someone I know, someone closer to  me,  someone
who is real and very sexy."

"Janey Pritchard?"  she asked, naming the  most  outrageous  flirt  in
high school.

"Not Janey.  She's okay, I guess, but she doesn't get me off.   No,  I
think of someone who's far  sexier  than  Janey  when  I  jerk  off...
that's what guys call it, ya know...jerking off."

Jean had succeed in pulling her shirt button all the way off  and  was
absentmindedly working on the next one down As her  shirt  opened  and
closed, I caught repeated glimpse of the swell of  her  breasts  above
the lacy white bra she was wearing.  She continued to shift around  as
she became more excited and had dropped one foot off the  couch  while
the other, still  bent,  was  up  against  the  cushion  giving  me  a
completely wide-open look under her skirt.

She was wearing bikini-style panties, very low cut in front  and  high
on the sides.  The darkness of her pubic hair was plainly visible, for
I'd picked the end of the couch with the light behind me.  Jean had to
squint to  look  directly  at  me  while  I  had  a  clearly  lighted,
unobstructed crotch shot.  The conversation and  the  sexy  view  were
getting to me.  My pants were clearly bulging  out  and  I'd  seen  my
sister glance at my crotch several times and then quickly look away.

She persisted, "Who, then?  Just who do you think  of  that  gets  you
all...uh...hard and...and horny?"

Was she fishing?  Dropping my right hand to bulge  of  my  pecker  and
holding it pointedly, I said, "You."

"WHAT?"  She gasped, her eyes wide in surprise, her hand  frozen  with
the shirt pulled part way open.  "What do you mean,  me?   Billy,  I'm
your sister for cryin' out loud!"

Lowering my voice and looking hard at her, I rushed on, "Sis,  I  *am*
your brother and I still find you attractive.  I still find you *very*
attractive, beautiful even.  Why, you're the most  attractive  girl  I
know and by far, the sexiest girl I know.  I can't  help  that  and  I
can't help the way I feel.  I care for you and I  love  you.   I'd  do
anything for you.  I can't help it you turn me on.  When I see you,  I
feel warm.  When I see your breasts or your  butt,  I  get  a  thrill.
When I think of you naked, why I just  get  so  darn,  horny...there's
only one thing I can do."

Jean sat, frozen, with one leg up  which  pulled  the  crotch  of  her
panties into her pussy.  There was a natural silence.  We just sat and
looked at each other.  Now I was no longer trying to  sneak  peeks  at
her panties; I was blatant about it.  I knew she could see me and yet,
she didn't close her legs.  I could plainly see the penumbra  of  soft
hair high on her thigh,  above  where  she  shaved  her  legs.   Then,
looking at the crotch of her white cotton bikinis, I could see  a  wet
spot.  She was getting wet.  She was getting excited, I was sure.

Chapter 3 -- Our First Sex

Suddenly dropping her  raised  leg,  she  pushed  one  hand  into  her
skirt-covered crotch and seemed to cup herself  as  she  asked,  "Just
what do you think about, Billy?  I mean, what do you  think  about  me
when you, uh, do it?"  She'd taken the bait!

By this time I'd decided to turn up the intensity.  Screw  this  pussy
footing  around.   Let's  get  going.   "Okay,  Sis,  I'll  tell   you
everything...everything you want  to  know...I'll  tell  it  all,  but
first, you've got to tell me something.  I'm way ahead of you and  I'm
feeling kinda funny about it like I'm all alone.  Know  what  I  mean?
So, before I spill the beans, you've gotta tell  me  things.   Like  I
know that girls do it too.   And  I  suspect  that  you're  just  like
everyone else, so you probably do it as well...but I wanna  know  just
how *you* do it."  I'd  emphasized  the  "you"  so  she'd  talk  about
herself and not about girls in general.

By this time her skirt was half way up her thighs  and  we  were  both
cupping ourselves shamelessly.  "All right you horndog, I'll tell you.
Yes.  Yes, I do it...a lot.  I've been doing it for years...ever since
I was nine.  Usually I do it when I'm  in  bed,  late  at  night,  but
sometimes I just wake up hot and have to do it again.  Lately I've had
to do it in the day time, and then I go, well, you probably know where
I go.  You go there all the time!"

Now her skirt was at her hips and I could see her hands over her panty
crotch.  I slipped my hand inside my pants to adjust my dick,  noisily
sucking air between my teeth.  It was all hard and caught bent  in  my
underpants.  She stopped talking and watched me, so  I  kept  my  hand
inside my pants, holding my cock.

This was working better than my wildest dreams.  I'd  hoped  we  might
"talk dirty" and here we  were,  touching  ourselves  openly.   I  was
getting more excited by the minute.  I could hardly  sit  still.   The
loving feeling I had for my sister right then almost choked me up.

"Sis, I wanna tell you how sexy you  are  right  now.   You  are  just
beautiful.  I love to look at your legs and I love to  see  you  there
and I'm going crazy trying to see more of you.  God, this is HOT and I
don't know if I can stand it!"

Jean, it appeared, had crossed some emotional line of propriety in her
mind.  The shy, embarrassed girl was gone and  the  provocative,  sexy
woman was emerging.  She was enjoying herself and she was turned on by
seeing me turned on.  She'd entered the game without  reservation.   I
just knew that.  I didn't know where this was going, but I was sure of
one thing, it was getting more powerful and going  *somewhere*  and  I
was going with it.

I suppose like most boys, I didn't imagine a girl would be  interested
in looking at my dick; still, Jean had been watching  me  throttle  my
hard cock through my pants for th last several minutes.   Suddenly,  I
knew what to do.  Pulling my zipper down, I pushed my hand through  my
open fly and grasping my cock, I looked at my sister and  said,  "Show
me, Jean...show me yours."

Looking up through her lowered lashes, she smiled and said nothing but
slid one hand into her panties and between her legs.  The  wet  crotch
of her panties were bulged with her fingers and I could see some  dark
brown pussy hair where the pants were  pulled  away.   My  sister  was
really calling my hand, imitating me and teasing me at the same  time.
When I began to move my hand, she moved hers.  It looked like she  was
running one finger up and down her slit, pausing at the  top  to  make
little circles.

Put up or shut up, I thought as I pulled my boner  out  of  my  pants.
There!  No accident this.  I was showing my hard-on to my  sister  and
waiting to see what she'd do...run or join in.  Then she surprised me.
Suddenly standing, she reached up inside  her  skirt  and  pulled  her
panties off.  Stepping out of them, she rolled  them  in  a  ball  and
motioned to throw them down, but then, as if having a second  thought,
she let them unroll and held them up for me to see.  Rolling her eyes,
she shrugged and tossed them onto my chest as she sat back down.

My dreams...my wet dreams were coming true.  My sister's warm  panties
were mine.  The crotch was quite wet and her scent was strong  when  I
pulled them to my nose.  Her panties stolen from  the  clothes  hamper
were hot, but nothing like the fresh wet  and  warm  ones  she'd  just
stripped from her bottom.  I could  hardly  believe  that  my  sister,
sweet Jean, knew what I wanted and flaunted it for me.

Shaking my head, as to clear it, I stood up  and  skinned  out  of  my
jeans and underpants.  My dick almost slapped my belly  as  it  sprang
up.  I stood there a moment, my hips slightly thrust forward, cock  at
attention and asked, "Is this what you wanted to see?"

"Yes.  And is *this* what you've been trying to see?"  She pulled  her
skirt up and spread her legs for me.  I was seeing now, for the  first
time, my sister's naked pussy.  God, it was beautiful.  Her pubic hair
was curly and thick on top.  It was trimmed on the sides  and  on  the
lips.  My innocent sister trimmed her pussy hair!  Where have  I  been
this century?

Scooting her hips forward, our legs overlapped as  she  scrunched  her
bottom toward me.  Her splayed legs pulled the lips of her pussy apart
just a little and I could see a wet pink inside.  The scent  of  pussy
was heavy in the air and I so wanted to bury my face  in  her  crotch.
Below her partially-open cunt, I could just  see  her  puckered  anus.
She was showing me  her  asshole!   My  dick  lurched  again,  precome
wetting the area around the pee hole.

I hunched my bottom closer to her and slid my legs farther over  her's
as I continued to stroke my woody.  The tip of my cock was only inches
from her pussy.  I could see her clit as she  pulled  the  hood  back.
She was showing me her little hard-on.  By now  I  was  so  excited  I
didn't know what I wanted.  I wanted it all.  I wanted to jack off, to
watch her jack off.  I wanted to smell her, to taste  her.   I  wanted
her to touch me, to touch my cock, my balls, my ass.   I  was  nearing
circuit overload.  I couldn't think.

Scrunching forward again, I muttered something  like,  "Let  me  touch
your clitty with my dick, Jean...Oh, God...let me touch you!"

She was beyond speech and answered with her pelvis.   She  thrust  her
hips to me until our sexes touched...until the head of my dick, almost
purple with stasis, touched the  hard  nubbin  of  her  cunt.   I  was
mindless.  I had no idea what I was doing or  what  to  do.   I  began
mindlessly slapping her clit with my dick, between the inverted "V" of
her fingers that were splaying her pussy lips open.  Slap, slap,  slap
.  .  .  I masturbated myself as I softly beat her clit.

Once again, my world constricted.  Visions and images swam before  me.
I couldn't tell fantasy from reality.  My sister's pussy.   The  smell
of her juice.  My hard, curved and shining cock pounding on her  pussy
.  .  .  on her clit.  Slap, slap, slap.  Her wet fingers...red  nails
.  .  .  holding open her pussy.  Groaning sounds...strained, garbled,
meaningless speech, "Pussy...cunt...shit...piss...fuck .   .   .   Oh,
Christ...I'm coming."

"Come on me, come on me, come on me," she chanted over and over  as  I
squirted ropy spurts of white jism on her chest, on  her  stomach  and
then onto her pussy hair.  From  far  away,  I  thought  I  heard  her
scream.  I must  have  blacked  out  for  a  moment.   My  next  aware
sensation was being held.  Jean had  my  cock  in  her  hand  and  was
holding it softly, cooing as she stroked it like a feather.   My  body
spasmed again, a jerk that pushed an unbidden grunt from my chest.

"God, Jean...shit...Jesus H.  Christ!  I can't believe this  happened.
It was unbelievable...incredible...fantastic."

"Oh, Billy," she whispered.  "Please hold me, won't you?   I  do  love
you so!"

Continued chapter 4

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