Incest/TabooSympathy Pt. 02 – Proposal
sympathy Part 2 — Proposal
The Hot Sister
Despite the embarrassment caused by Rosemary's look of unadulterated awe as I shot my spunk five feet up the side of the shower cubicle, three feet away, I didn't have the vitality to run away. With the feeling in my groin that I had shot both my balls out through my cock, I just collapsed, nearly blind, whimpering her name.
"Oh Rosy! Rosy! Rosy! Why did you let me do that to you?"
"What? I thought that I did that to you!"
"No, no, I meant lick you and get you to wank me off like that!"
She looked down, but was barely embarrassed, "I enjoyed it! It was nice."
"We shouldn't be doing that sort of thing with each other. It's incest. Or at least something very close!"
"I don't care! I wouldn't care if we went all the way!"
"You wouldn't care if we fu … … sha … had sex? Intercourse?"
She pulled her shoulders back in determination. God … her nipples looked wonderful! My tongue started to get itchy all over again.
But, crouched down next to me, and while eyeing my cock, she shook her head.
She took a deep breath. Oh, God! Those nipples again.
She gently grasped my cock, and gently stroked and fingered me, while gazing down at her movements and my responses, "I nearly tried to seduce you before we went on holiday. I wanted you to love me. But I couldn't do it. I chickened out — scared of what you would think of me. Then this morning you started it yourself. Your erection told me you were interested. I was more than happy going along with it. I wanted it."
"But I do love you — already."
"No!" she sounded irritated, "I don't mean the emotional family love. I know that I get that. I wanted … " deep, stunning breath, "physical … love."
"I wanted you to fuck me! Alright?
"I want someone to fuck me." she sobbed; I started to get stiff again, "I need someone to fuck me! But it's not likely to happen. None of the lads take an interest in me."
"But you've just come back from a 'party island'! Surely you got lucky?"
"Not a sniff! Rowena got three lads while we were there. Susan had a different one every night. Elaine got in with a couple of German lads, and moved in with them, and didn't surface until we had to catch the coach back to the airport. She nearly came as she told us that between the two of them and one of their mates, she got all three holes stuffed every night."
She punctuated each of those points by squeezing the head of my cock — just, it seemed to emphasise each point. I was almost fully rigid again by the time she finished.
"I'm the 'Ugly Sister' of the bunch. I may not have hairy warts, but I do have hairs … and stuff."
"Oh Rosy! You're being unkind to yourself."
Releasing me, she stood up, arms at her sides, fingers splayed, palms towards me.
"Look at me! Go on! Really look at me! What do you see? Try looking past your little sister. Just look at me, at this body! Come on — what do you see?"
"I dunno? Maybe you look a bit plush? Bit more curvy than classic models, anyway. Your hair is alright." It was normally a sort of mid-brown, and reached the bottom of her shoulder-blades; it had overtones of chestnut, but it took on a deep red hue in bright sunlight. Two weeks in the sun had lightened it and brought the reds closer to the surface. "You really look OK to me. And you've got a really sexy bum and a very nice pair of ti… boob… breasts — and nipples!"
And she had; course, her bum might not be quite up to Lina Pasada standards, but then — who's was? "We … I got an erection for you! Doesn't that say something?"
"That was a wonderful thing for me to see, Ian. But let me tell you — when I was away, I spent part of every day on the beach. I went up the coast a bit to a nudist beach there. And I plucked up the courage, and stripped off. Hours I spent there every day, while the others were fucking their arses off. Every day, I got ignored. Other girls there scored. I didn't. No interest in me — no shags for me. Wouldn't have mattered if I was the best fuck in the Med. I didn't get the chance to demonstrate it.
"Look at me! Capped teeth not very well set, and not very good, and jaw changed since the caps were fitted. One negligent moment when I'm thirteen, and a hockey stick kills my future sex life.
"Look at my skin[?], always slightly oily; an' a spotty face. Look at my hair! I don't — and can't — do anything with it, but it's still getting a bit patchy. There aren't any barge-poles long enough to allow blokes into my vicinity. Periods so … spotty — I got put on the pill, to regulate them.
"I wanted you to love me — to fuck me! I can't expect more than a sympathy fuck, but I'd take it!"
Tears were rolling down her cheeks. "What's a stupid label like 'incest'," snuffle, "if I can get you to fuck me, because you don't see the carcase — you see me inside it."
Snuffle, "I'm sorry Ian, but I'd love for you to fuck me — if I can get you to see past the carcase."
With a heavy heart because of her life, she flopped, sobbing to the floor.
But me, with a lighter heart, I accepted that I would do as she wanted. What she wanted me to do. What I wanted to do. Not what I forced her to do. Not what she was prepared to endure.
I pulled her carcase across onto my lap, and kissed her. I kissed my beautiful sister. I was again rock hard!
I stood her up, brought her under the shower, and tenderly finished washing all my piss off her.
I kissed her. I kissed her nipples. I kissed her clit, her labia and her vagina. She giggled and wriggled too much and kept slapping me away when I tried to kiss her bum. But she was happy that I tried.
I dried her gently. Then took her into my bed; and did everything with her (not to her as in object, or with her as in plaything, but with her — together — as in partners) that we both thought that she would enjoy, or knew about, or wanted to know about.
I didn't allow her to give me her virginity until we had made love for nearly an hour, as we stroked and licked or sucked each other.
Then, once I recovered after she had sucked me to my second orgasm of the day, and I had brought her to her fourth or fifth, I decided that it was time. She wanted me to do it, but I insisted that she should be the one. I told her that if I did it, I would feel that I was taking advantage of her (this 'negative' incest thing, I suppose — grooming, and/or forcing).
You know — the sort of coward's way out, I suppose — here, you take your own virginity, but use my convenient cock as your defloration tool.
So — my general plan was that we would prepare each other in a 69, with her on top. Then when she felt she had reached just below her peak; she would move around and mount me. I would hold him up for her with one hand, while stroking her clit with the fingers of the other hand, to keep her on the edge, and to distract her from too much discomfort during penetration — I can't boast that I am over-endowed; but I may be a little more than in proportion to my six-foot-two height.
She would lean forward with her arms on my chest, to steady herself, and then lower herself gently onto me, a little at a time until she got used to that depth of penetration, then ease herself down some more, and then more when comfortable.
Now, most of you out there in reader-land are likely to have heard the saying that goes something like: – 'No plan of battle survives first contact with the enemy'?
Well — I discovered a more general truth: – 'No plan survives first contact'.
My plan went well, until she got his head past the lips of her fanny.
Then, perhaps because of the wait that she had endured; her highly aroused state; her ecstasy that it was about to happen (at last!); her relief — that someone who Loved her was going to be her first; and especially that it was her brother that was going to 'do' it (the incest thing again, I suppose); or maybe something else, or combinations of all of them — all tightened the cords of her anticipation, so that when 'first contact' occurred, it created such a reaction in her, that her control just shattered.
She was kneeling astride my loins, already panting in anticipation, as she started to lower herself onto him. And, as I just said, as his head passed her fanny lips, the orgasm struck without warning. She went rigid, and started squealing, and juddering. That worked his head within her, over-stimulating, presumably, her G-spot, and the other sensitive tissues of her vagina. She screamed, and dropped an inch; dropped her head back on her neck; then (for some reason that she couldn't later explain), grasped her nipples between her nails; started crying; dropped a little more; screamed again — then collapsed — straight down — full penetration in a fraction of a second.
She went rigid yet again, then screamed and screamed, shuddered, inhaled, and screamed again, as orgasm after orgasm struck. She repeatedly juddered her hips backwards and forwards as she raggedly gasped-in more air, and screamed again and again, for some seconds, until she ran out of breath, then she just gurgled, and collapsed forward towards me. I just managed to get my hands on her shoulders to ease her down, but — she was floppy — it was as if she had gone completely boneless. She seemed to have ceased breathing.
I rolled her over onto her back beside me — still no breath. I tried the artificial respiration techniques I knew to get her lungs moving. She remained inert for nearly two minutes before she whooped in a large breath; and started crying fit to sink a battleship. I held her and rocked her, waiting for her emotions to settle down.
After nearly twenty minutes, her crying abated to sobbing, then to occasional sobs, then sniffs, then deep breaths. Eventually she started making feeble attempts at moving. I relaxed my tight grip on her, as her movements became more co-ordinated, and then I let her roll onto her back, where she drifted off into natural sleep.
Although trying not to be a pervert, I checked her pussy for any trauma, even gently sliding a moist finger into her pussy. Then I relaxed — no blood! Good… my cock didn't lie. Physically, she wasn't a virgin; so, she had 'lost' her maidenhead before my penetration of her … hence no real physical damage to heal from.
I then tucked her into bed, arranged the bedding so that she wasn't being swaddled; closed the curtains to leave her in dim light; set some gentle music playing softly; and, as it was now past lunch time, and we hadn't even had breakfast, I thought we could do with some refreshments. I was sure that she would need something after that … that … whatever it was.
But there was something I had to do first — bathroom clean-up! So, I did. Washing my piss off the walls, floor and other miscellaneous accessories took some time. I even shoved towels and things in the washing machine, and started the wash, to get them out of the way.
I checked up on her every ten to fifteen minutes though, and once I had cleaned up, I went to the kitchen to make us some lunch. I made us a flask of coffee, got cold drinks, sandwiches, and brought both fresh and dried fruit; and biscuits to nibble.
Then I returned to my bedroom with my 'picnic', ate my sandwich, sampled my other goodies, and then, as she remained deeply sleep, I settled down, wrapped her in my arms, spoons fashion, and snuggled us together, and eventually drifted off to sleep as I managed to ignore the erection that I tucked between her thighs. I had been so startled by her orgasms that I hadn't achieved an orgasm for myself.
I awoke some indeterminate time later, and jumped as I realised that she lay there quietly watching me as she remained wrapped in my arms.
"How're you doing?" I whispered to her, nuzzling her nose with my own.
"I Love you."
"Thank you. And I love you too."
She huffed, then struggled to sit up, and made irritable moves as if to get off the bed.
"No, Ian," she sounded irritated, "I am not twelve! I haven't got a crush on you. I Love you."
I pulled her back, so that she again was lying on her back. Then I slid my right leg over her right leg, and partially rolled on top of her, pressed her down with my right arm over her waist, with my right hand on her left shoulder blade, and pressed her head back into the pillows as I kissed her. Hard! Then I released her mouth, but nothing else.
"And I repeat — thank you — I love you too." I recaptured her mouth and squeezed her against me. Tightly.
She "Mmmf'd", wriggled, and flailed at me fairly ineffectually with her left fist. I grabbed it, and held it down on the pillow above her head, to keep it out of my way. Then backed off from her mouth, again.
She smiled and sniffed, "Bullshitter!"
"Oooh, you sweet-talking little siren, you." I lowered my head then licked, then sucked her left nipple, causing her to choke, whimper, and wriggle again.
I looked up at her, "Fancy a coffee, or cola, and some lunch?"
"Oh God yes. It was my rumbling tum that woke me up. But I didn't want to disturb … my … my … lover." she finished in a delightedly embarrassed giggling whisper.
"Well come on, you need to eat. If I'm supposed to fuck you unconscious every time, then you'll need nourishment.
So, I opened up a cola to share, poured her a coffee, and passed her a sandwich and nibbles, and she settled with a contented sigh, leaning her back against my left side.
"I've never had an orgasm like that before."
"Rosy my love, I'd like to bet that NO-ONE's — ever — had an orgasm like that before."
"I give you warning — I think that I would like to keep having your cock inside me in the future, giving me those."
"I'm sure you would, but unfortunately, you are going to have to make do with what we can manage before Mum and Dad get home, if you really are still interested in doing it with me."
"I'm going to miss you," she grizzled, "and your sympathy fucks. You've made me come alive."
"Oh, come on Rosy, if I can lick your puss, and your wonderful nipples, and give you screaming orgasms, you'll never get another sympathy fuck from me again."
"Listen to the Blarney! Granma's Irish blood cutting loose again!"
"Talking of the Blarney. What bit do you fancy getting licked first?"
"My arse! I need more time to recover!"
"Suit yourself! Roll over, and I'll get started!"
"Kiss my arse! I'm not letting you anywhere near my treasure trove. That's reserved for brothers that treat me like a princess! And you needn't apply. At the moment, anyway!"
Life, Death, and Revival
During the course of the rest of our time together, we made love as often as I could get an erection. And sometimes we even fucked! But I delighted in making slow, deeply penetrative love to her. I tortured her by lying fairly still on her, and just got the tip of my cock next to her cervix – 'just right'; and rotated my hips so that my cock tip lightly stroked circles around her cervix, or even just sort of – flicked across it. That, and the way she was pinned to the bed by my weight, drove her wild, but without the real stimulation that would really start getting her off.
She begged me! She shoved up against me, trying to get the motion that she craved. But as I weigh half again as much as she does, she didn't have much success in getting me to move.
Until I relented, backed most of the way out, repositioned, and relocated, so that my cock tip was pressed — 'just so' — against her G-spot. Then, as I rubbed against that she would go off, trying to scream. I prevented that by locking my lips against hers and sucking the scream out of her. While she was helplessly writhing through her orgasmic contractions, all I had to do was to remain still and retain the pressure of my cock just inside her entrance, allowing her contortions to pummel her G-spot against my cock head — thus extending her agony/ecstasy/subjugation to her body's demands.
But when I didn't get an erection, she didn't take it as a sign that I didn't want her — she took it as a sign that I had just shagged her too much. I was honest with her. A man may be able to emulate a woman by pretending an orgasm, especially when he's shagged himself nearly dry — but he cannot pretend to be aroused. I pretended nothing.
Well, apart, that is, from letting her think I had more experience than I actually did have.
I know! So, what's wrong with me? Four years at Uni., and still with little experience of sex?
Well, not when you get to know me. Shy — scared of STIs — scared of pregnancies — scared of getting 'caught-up in a marriage' before I felt grown-up enough to want the 'adult' permanent relationships — scared of STIs — shy — amongst just a few.
She accepted all my responses; and, occasionally, brought the seemingly dead back to life.
And, during those times that the dead did refuse to rise, why then I would make love to her with my tongue or fingers.
To try to help me last, I took to embedding my cock as far into her as I could get him, and then just spend my time licking her wonderful nipples, bringing her to relaxed orgasm after relaxed orgasm — from gaspers, through gigglers, to chokers — if such things could be considered as 'relaxed'. Well … I suppose they were relaxing enough for me.
Or I would sit with my back propped against the headboard of the bed, with my knees raised, as she sat impaled in my saddle, leaning back against my legs as I stroked her, lightly with my fingers or finger nails; from her shoulders to her clit, and up and down her sides — and simply caressing and teasing her nipples, or licking and sucking her nipples, even pulling hard and twisting and squeezing her nipples — at just the right time; and taking deep pleasure in watching her secondary orgasms as she bucked and juddered herself on my saddle horn through her primary orgasms, brought on by my nipple or clit worship.
Or I would make slow tender love to her clit with my tongue.
During one recovery period, she lay beside me on her stomach, so I took the opportunity to devote some of my love and passion on her bum cheeks. I lost myself in their worship; and didn't realise the effect I was having on her — until she stretched her legs wide, then begged for me to take her like that, stretched out — with my full body-weight on her. After some good few minutes of feeling her wonderful bum cheeks massaging my pelvis as I stroked my cock in and out of her, she shoved herself to her knees and elbows and whimpered that she wanted to feel me impaled to her full depth.
This position gave my head full contact with her cervix, meaning that I could get some real pressure against it, so I massaged it to a serenade of deep, long groans and occasional whimpers of, "Oh God! It feels like you're right up under my lungs!"
She didn't want me to stop, but I was still gently firm with her — as I rotated my hips and I applied that constant rubbing pressure.
And, when she felt daring, and allowed an energetic Doggie, I stroked her bum hole, and — with a well lubricated finger, I wound-her-up by stroking my finger in and out of her.
But she didn't manage to … um … suffer … enjoy[?] any more of those orgasms during the rest of my time at home.
But then, as they say, 'All Good Things Must Come to an End'.
Mum and Dad got home, and Rosy had to go back to using her bedroom, and I finished getting my stuff together; and, eventually, left to start my new job.
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