Incest/TabooAn Older Sister's Awakening
I've always been an early riser. Even way back to my childhood I'd regularly awaken before sunrise, but always be content to lie beneath the covers, content with my own thoughts or listening to the crickets or birds outside. Even today as a woman in her early 30's I often lie in the pre-dawn hours, sometimes running through my daily to-do checklist, but often lately I find myself reminiscing. It must be a symptom of having spent a year now of social distancing and quarantines. I find myself longing for intimacy, for spontaneity, for adventure, for fun, for…just sensing a connection to someone who feels like my other half.
For me, that other half is my sister Emma.
I think part of what makes me feel like she completes me, is that we have such opposite personalities. She is gregarious, outspoken and commands attention. I am quiet, introverted and happy to blend into a crowd. Growing up she was a jock and excelled at sports, especially ones that featured physical contact like field hockey and basketball. She has carried this aura of confidence that is downright palpable, I find it easy to follow her lead, even though she is 18 months my junior.
While she was at practice I would often be in the library studying, or just reading for pleasure. I still love to read (and not surprisingly, here I am writing!). When she was competing in a game, my eyes would follow her every move. Keeping score was unimportant to me, I just wanted to watch my sister. I am her biggest fan and cheerleader. While not necessarily being a trouble maker, she wasn't one to back down from anything (nor is she today). I still recall one day in school when someone in my class came up to me and said, "You'd better tell your sister to stay away from my sister." Without looking up to make eye contact I very matter-of-factly replied, "I have no control over what she does." While being true, it also underscored the sanctity of our bond. Whatever was going on with his sister she probably brought on herself and had coming to her. As a sign of unspoken solidarity with her, I never even mentioned the confrontation until years later, and we shared a good laugh. Even though we would occasionally, as all siblings do, and she would call me a "nerd" for staying on Saturday nights while she went out to parties, my loyalty to her was unequivocal. Sisterhood is sacred.
It is also timeless. Who else can I be separated from for weeks, over even months, and once I see her face it's like we've never been apart? I've been thinking about her a lot lately…just this morning in fact.
The moment in time I often go back to is the summer I came home from my freshman year of college. She had recently turned 18 and I was well past 19. A lot had changed, including the house we lived in. Our parents had separated my senior year of high school and while I was away the divorce became final during the fall semester. The house we grew up in was sold during the spring semester and my mom and sister moved into a smaller town home in a different neighborhood. While the surroundings would be unfamiliar to me and require a lot of getting used to, I couldn't wait to be with them again. My first year away was hard for me, I don't make friends easily and felt lonely often. I needed to reconnect badly.
The moment that persistently calls back to me was one of those early mornings where I lied awake in the predawn haze, as images, not so much thoughts, scrolled by, often stimulating acute emotions. That was happening a lot, as the ice had already been broken between us and this new relationship we were adjusting to was still a somewhat tumultuous reconciliation for me. I mean, I was actually fucking my sister!
It came about late one Saturday night. I stayed in and baked with our mom before we watched a movie together. Em went out with her friends. When she came home I was sound asleep, it was after midnight. We had not only always shared a room, we shared a bed. It was an antique bed that was originally our grandmothers. It was queen size and usually comfortable accommodated two, as long as one of us wasn't tossing and turning during the night. My mother and aunt shared it too, then it was passed onto us. It was just how things were, and though friends would usually raise an eyebrow when finding out my sister and I slept in the same bad for the first time, it wasn't a big deal for us. We never thought about it twice.
So that night, being awoken by her stumbling into bed, the scent of beer on her breath and pot smoke in her hair, wasn't uncommon for me. Normally she'd be passed out in a moment's time and I'd drift off soon after.
The feeling of someone's hands on me was completely foreign. I was still not only a virgin, I'd never even kissed another girl (I'd always known I liked girls, boys were never an option for me). Such is the life of the quiet wallflower. Although I didn't yell or try to push her away, the feeling of her cold hand moving up my shirt caused me to panic. I squirmed and whined "What are you doing? Are you wasted?" She didn't say anything other than a long, deep moan as she threw her heavy, muscular leg over me. I tried to turn my back to her and curl up in a fetal position, but one hand on my shoulder had me on my back in seconds. She leaned on me, wrapped her hand behind my head and kissed me deeply.
I spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling asking unanswerable questions. "Did that really just happen?" "Am I crazy?" "Did she know what she was doing?" "Will she even remember?" "Did Mom hear anything?"
I ended up leaving our bed and sitting on the downstairs love seat watching the sun come up over the shadowed mountain while sipping a hot cup of Italian coffee. I was too ashamed to face her and spent the day hiding in far corners of the house beyond her sight. Anytime I had to be out in the open I was at our Mom's side, ensuring no uncomfortable subjects could surface. I happily spend the afternoon preparing dinner for all of us.
After cleaning the kitchen I went upstairs to shower. I like it hot and steamy and let the water run while I undress and select my night ware (not particularly fancy or elegant, just a comfortable nightshirt, panties and pair of fuzzy socks). Once in the solitude of the shower I let out an audible sigh as the hot water sprayed my skin and melted the tension of what had been an anxious day. Sweet relief!
Or so I thought…
I gasped as the shower curtain snapped open and Em stepped in the tub with me! "What are you doing?" I exclaimed. Em, coolly and casually said without missing a beat, "just thought I'd join you…" as she grabbed the bottle of soap and lathered herself up, "This is so fucked up!" I said, rushing through rinsing the conditioner from my hair so I could get out and back downstairs to safety, but Em would have none of it. She grabbed my arm, firmly but not roughly, and said, "Relax, we're sisters, it's OK." I didn't argue, and I stopped rushing, but I didn't dawdle either.
We'd been dressing in the same room together all our lives, so seeing one another in varying stages of undress, while being something familiar, was unsettling for me this evening. I felt something I'd never felt around her before – exposed, almost vulnerable. Not that I'd lost my trust in her, but I didn't know what to expect from her either. That night I stayed a mile away from her on the edge of the bed.
Perhaps sensing my apprehension, she didn't any advances on me that night. Or the night after that, but the shared shower became a routine. Not only that, our mother approved! One night after dinner as I was heading upstairs to change Em followed me and told her, "we're showering together to save on the water bill." I dejectedly groaned to myself as our mother congratulated her for a good thinking. The smirk on Em's face as we stepped into the tub belied the sense of triumph she must have felt when she said "how about that? I'm the good one for once!" Of course, she had me where she wanted me, how she wanted me, and with the full endorsement from our mother.
Over the next couple of weeks, the showers grew more comfortable and casual in nature. We washed and rinsed one other's hair, picked out one another's sleepwear and I moved back toward the center of the bed. Eventually, "that night" came up, as did talk of our sex lives (my lack of one specifically) and playful exploration followed as my uneasiness slowly dissipated. My more adventurous sister, who can be forceful when she feels the need, helped acquiesce me by showing patience. I was charmed by the unexpected sweet and nurturing tenor she took with me. Aside from the fear of our mom, whose bedroom was a short distance down the hall away, would find us out, I had lost most of my trepidations.
Yes, that hazy, lazy, soft-lit morning. Warm, dewy air gently breathing in through the barely cracked open window tickled my toes that peeked out from beneath our strewn about blanket and sheet. I didn't look, but I could tell my nightshirt was still pushed up above my waist. Em was sleeping soundly on her belly, her face toward the far wall away from me, as she knew her heavy breathing at night sometimes disturbed me. She still had on her form-fitting, sleeveless athletic tee. I think she knew jock esthetic appealed to me on some level, even if I wasn't consciously aware of it. Her dark brown hair was never below shoulder length, and with the summer heat just around the corner, I wondered to myself how she'd look with it cropped even shorter.
Our panties, of course, were on the floor.
Floating back and forth between wondering and reliving, I felt a fleeting moment of disconnect that startled me. For the first time since that night I purposely slept on the edge of the bed, I wasn't touching Em. Although she was just inches away, emotionally I interpreted that distance as a miles long chasm. I slid me right hand across the sheet until I felt her warm, soft skin, and let out an audible sigh of relief.
As my head sank heavy into my pillow I became very aware of the amazing condition of Em's buttock. Obviously I appreciated her bottom as eye candy, it was one of the perks of our new showering arrangement. Yet, I never once offered to wash it for her. I felt like I was missing out on something. I slowly and lightly slide my hand up and cupped her roundness. Damn, that's nice!
During my long period of involuntary celibacy I often found myself appreciating the nice bottoms of actresses in the risqué videos I would watch for vicarious relief. I felt something stirring deep inside me, like butterflies way down in that space below my belly. My heart was beating slightly faster too and a light sweat formed on my forehead. What was this about?
I then noticed my middle finger tip was making little circles on the surface of her skin. Em's skin was about perfect as can be, soft and smooth, and a fit for her bottom like the perfect pair of gloves for you hand. I don't know how long I lied there in that semi dream-like state. I wish it could have been forever. It was such a perfect moment. If I could ever stop time and go back to a moment to be frozen in for all eternity, that would be the one. Em and I, half undressed under the covers in that hazy pre-dawn moment. Sigh.
A sudden impulse stirred me from my blissful daydreams. It actually caused me to lift my head off my pillow and look down toward the foot of the bed. I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for, but what caught my eye was the silhouette of my hand resting on Em's round lobe. How curious! I admired the delightful image and proudly smiled – how lucky was I?
Not thinking, perhaps being guided by divination or some unseen primal force, I saw myself sliding down the sheets, under the covers, on my back, to the location of the resting place for my hand. While not being quite pitch black, it was quite dark under there. Warm and somewhat humid too, and my breath was deepening and I could feel my exhalations surrounding me in these close quarters. The hand that rested on her buttock returned to me, and brushed the side of my face. I nearly fainted.
Propping up on an elbow, I skillfully and stealthily rolled only my belly, landing between her open legs. On both elbows, facing the object of my growing arousal (was I really grinding my pubis into the mattress?), a voice inside my head shrieked a flash of self-realization "what do you think you're doing?!"
Fortunately, I wasn't thinking at all. I was impulsively following my feelings, something I had always been too reluctant to do. Always analyzing, always scrutinizing, forever second guessing…for the first time ever, I was truly in the moment, surrender to intuition.
Being in the semi-darkness probably helped. I could see just enough, but there was plenty of mystery to pique my interest too.
I extended forward, hovering micro inches above her perfect shape, the covers draped from my head and shoulders creating a space where I was able to take in her entire essence. The scent of her skin, her sweat and sex – we had been intimate before sleep. I felt like I was sensing the true Em for the first time, not masked by any soaps, lotions or perfumes. Not dirty in any way, but true, honest and essentially feminine. Her heavenly bouquet was intoxicating, and I eagerly took in each inhale and invited it to infuse my entire body.
Lowering closer, almost-but-not-quite making contact, feeling her body heat radiating on my face, I turned to my right and lightly gave her a silent kiss. Quakes rattled through my body. I kissed the inside of her cheek twice more as I allowed my left cheek to gradually lower and rest on her like a pillow, I purred as my weight sank into her flesh and my lips grazed the inside of her opposite lobe on the way down. She was warmer, damper and more fragrant as I descended, and those butterflies deep inside me were stirring uncontrollably. The rest of me was in a trance, almost moving by remote control. Maybe it was those butterflies who were in control?
I nuzzled my way in as I carefully rotated my face toward center, so as not to disturb her, and enveloped myself in her luxurious valley. Her musky scent heightened my state of arousal, I noticed I was trembling, my desire to unite with her, in the most intimate way possible, and overcame all trepidations. I leaned in further, felt my nose press against the crevice just below her tailbone, I puckered my lips not so much for a kiss, but in an exploratory way, searching for a reference point. I wiggled subtly, worked myself a bit lower, dragging my nose along the way so it was now pressed upward and my nostrils were stretched open, until I felt my lips connect to a warm, moist aperture. I was amazed how this spot seemed synced with her breathing, rising and falling, ebbing and flowing, directly connected to her very life force.
I kissed her lovingly, as if I were kissing her very lips. I could have sworn she kissed me back. I kissed her again, it felt almost as if the damp, almost as if the damp, slightly sticky quality of her taught ring were primped for the occasion with lipstick.
Parting my lips, I extended the tip of my tongue, landed just off the bullseye, and slowly traced the circumference several times, flooding my imagination with images of the still unseen object I was ravishing myself with. I felt my heart pounding against the mattress between her thighs and my body flushing with hormones. I was actually making out with my sisters anus!
Em began to stir. As she awoke from her sleep, her legs and buttocks tightened and tensed against me, she moaned and murmured something intelligible, and for a moment, I panicked. "Holy shit, what if she realizes what is happening and she's mad at me?!"
Fortunately, with a sigh and longer, almost contented moan, her body relaxed and I sensed the freedom to explore more lavishly, freed from the restraint of operating in secrecy.
The cautious, apprehensive flicks of my tongue became broad, sloppy swaths with my entire tongue. Her flavor entranced me. I had only tasted pussy for the first time a couple of short weeks ago, this was entirely different in nature, but just as pleasing to my palate. Musky, earthy, amazing and delicious; a savory compliment to the sweetness of her pussy.
Soon her entire ass crack was wetted with my saliva and my whole face gyrated around and around as my tongue delightfully swirled and swiped in a feverish ceremony of devotion. Em confirmed her approval by pressing up onto all fours. As she rose from the mattress I retained my oral connection to her anus, leaning in, arching my neck while audibly slurping, a non-verbal pleading, "Please, I'm loving this, don't pull away!"
As the covers fell away the soft morning light revealed an amazing view, up close and personal, her flawless skin encompassing my world view much of the time, but occasionally as she moved in rhythm with my tongue, undulating her spine, I'd get to see the back of her head a couple of feet away as she arched her face upward, releasing a moan or sigh, the two of us locked in blissful unison.
Craving insatiably, I hardened my tongue to a point and attempted to pierce her clenched, rubbery ring. Grunting as I pushed into resistance, hints of victory tantalized my taste buds. Clearly, this was new ground for Em as well, I was delighted to be the pioneer granted permission to explore!
Feeling somewhat frustrated, I thought some sucking might relax her constricted sphincter. I opened up my lips into a loose pucker, wrapped them around the outer perimeter of her little brown starfish, and suckled on it. The sound it made was very exciting. Trying to coax her into relaxation, as she loosened a bit and her anus slid slightly between my lips I playfully teased and tickled her with the tip of my tongue.
Em's low moans became more throaty exclamations of passion. I was so locked in with her in this moment of near rapture, suckling and licking on my sister's asshole as if both our lives depended on it. Her fingers had found their way to her pussy, I felt her knuckles against my chin. I licked and sucked with more intensity as she pushed her ass back into me, and I pushed back into her, moaning into her slickened buttring, letting her know the pleasure I was receiving while she was nearing her own climax.
The primal sound she made when the first orgasmic wave hit was punctuated by a full-body spasm that nearly gave me whiplash. I continued dutifully working her pretty brown rosebud with my mouth and tongue throughout. When she collapsed her upper body back to the bed and her pillow, her ass remained upright and I softly gave her ass and pussy long licks and soft kisses.
As Em rolled onto her side looked back toward me, still on my hands and knees, smiling as I became aware of the glaze I felt on my face, she invited me up, "C'mere you…" I crawled up and lied beside her, keeping eye contact along the journey. Facing each other, she slid her arm around my shoulder to my back, pulling me in she said with a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye, "I can't believe you did that!" Did she mean the specific act of analingus? Or was it me taking the initiative and making an unsolicited advance on her? Perhaps it was both? Regardless, I was so overcome with joy I was unable to articulate any intelligible thoughts. As we embraced in a deep soul-kiss I rolled onto my back with Em on top of me. With our four arms entangled in a warm hug I wrapped my legs around her waist pulling her down onto me even tighter. Finally, all barriers dissolved for good, we were one.
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