I'm balls-deep in my big-titty little sister Emma, fucking her hard against the wall of the rec room we used to play around in as kids, when we hear Mom and Dad pull into the driveway.
"Oh, fuck," whimpers Emma, her already-big green eyes getting bigger. "They're home from their vacation early."
"It's fine," I say, although I have no basis on which to say this, and continue pumping her.
"It's fine?" she half-asks, half-moans. She's staring up at me innocently, as if she has no part in this, as if her brother's cock isn't slapping in and out of her pussy as we speak. "What happens if Mom and Dad catch their son screwing their daughter? Brothers and sisters aren't supposed to have sex, you know. I bet they'd kick us out of the house."
She has a point. And our situation is pretty dire. Our clothes - Emma's black pleated skirt and white blouse, my t-shirt and jeans - are strewn across the floor. The only article that either of us is still wearing is Emma's panties, which hang around her legs. Her long, wavy brown hair is slick with sweat, and there's a general smell of sex in here. But I really, really don't want to stop screwing Emma right now. Her unbearably tight, wet little sister-pussy always makes me ignore all logic.
"Don't worry, babe," I say. "If Mom and Dad kick us out, we can cool our heels at a hotel for a couple nights, okay?"
"How?" she squeals as I pound her harder, her green eyes looking into my soul. "You're a cashier at a grocery store and I'm in high school. You don't even have enough money to take me to that French place that just opened up downtown."
"Nah, I do, I was just lying to you because I wanted to hang out with my friends that night," I say. "I've got a couple hundred bucks saved up."
She pouts and lowers her eyebrows. "You're the worst big brother ever. Now hurry up and cum in me before they find us, I'd rather not find out what kind of rat-infested motel room you can afford." She sticks her tongue out at me.
"You're such a brat, Em," I say, and start fucking her even harder, just as I hear the front door of the house unlock, two rooms away.
"Kids!" Dad shouts. "Kids, we were thinking about ordering Chinese tonight, does that work for you?"
"Sure, Dad!" I shout, trying to keep the panting out of my voice.
"How about you, Emma?" shouts Mom. "Chinese food tonight?"
"Yeah, that's fine, Mom!" shouts Emma. Her voice comes out as a bit of a whine.
"What are you two doing in there?" asks Mom. I can hear her footsteps approaching.
"Nothing!" we answer together.
"Mom, don't come in here!" I add. I can feel the cum gathering in my balls, preparing to shoot into my little sister.
"Oh, I think I know what's going on," says Mom. Her voice is even closer now. I can hear her just outside the door. All she'd need to do would be open it, and she'd see her two beloved children humping like wild animals, a sight that might well scar her for life.
"Yeah?" I ask, a chill running through me.
"You're wrapping your Christmas presents for me and your father," she says.
"Oh," I say in relief. "That's, uh, totally what we're doing."
"You two are so sweet," she says. "Well, I'll just leave you to it, then. Let me know when you decide what you want to order from Yang's."
And then, just as she starts to walk away, I bust a nut inside of Emma. To my mammalian brain, my high level of excitement probably indicates a high-value mating opportunity, and it responds by instructing my dick to pump ounce after ounce of semen into my little sister's pussy. Luckily I'm wearing a condom, or the Christmas present my sister and I are preparing for our parents would be an inbred grandchild.
We fall to the floor, panting heavily, my body wrapped around that of my cute teenage sister, her long brown hair slick with sweat. I remove my cock from her pussy and the condom from my cock, and a veritable lake of semen flows out, covering her ass and back.
"Emma?" I ask. "Am I a bad big brother?"
She giggles. "Depends on whether you take me to that French place tomorrow or not."
*
One Week Before That
Up until fairly recently, Emma and I had a pretty normal sibling relationship. We were super close as little kids, but as tends to happen, we grew apart as we got older and I headed off to college. We still cared about each other, of course, but that special sibling bond seemed to evaporate a little bit. After all, our relationship had been based on kid stuff like playing house and wrestling with each other. It would be weird if we still did that as adults, right? Instead, as she entered her teenage years Emma became obsessed with romance movies and emo bands, while I liked '80s music and Nicolas Cage.
Around last a year ago, six months after I graduated from college, my girlfriend of three years Jillian broke up with me for "not being mature enough." She complained that I still lived in my parents' house even though I was in my mid-twenties, that I had no ambition, that all I ever wanted to do when we hung out was watch movies and fuck. To be honest, she probably had a point. Even though I'd majored in journalism and had done okay in school, I didn't have much interest in getting a full-time job or saving up to buy a home and have a family.
Shortly after the breakup, I started noticing how cute Emma was becoming, and made the decision to try to seduce her. I know it might seem pretty wild, to try to get with one's own teenage sister, but for some reason it never seemed that way to me. Sure, incest is fucked up, but seeing I was a loser with no romantic prospects but a stupid hot sister, I thought I'd be an idiot not to give it a try.
Emma, it should be noted, is very - um, maybe traditional is the best word. It's not that she's no fun or that she's boring - she's actually cool and hilarious, especially after she's had a couple glasses of wine - but even at eighteen, she isn't the kind of person to get wasted or have casual sex. Her understanding of the world is based entirely on her favorite romance films, so her goal is find her soulmate and have a family, and fucking around isn't a stop on that path. She also goes to church and is vying for the valedictorian spot in her senior class. Based on this, it might seem like my attempts to hook up with her might not bear fruit. But on the other hand, as her big brother, I had years of history with her that other guys lacked. So I tried to be optimistic.
I started out innocently enough, complimenting her appearance and asking her about her studies, her friends, her life. Then I began dropping hints that I had a thing for her: saying things that started with "if you were my girlfriend," "if you weren't my sister," et cetera. Eventually, I just came right out and said it: I thought she was cute and thought we should fool around. She didn't take it well, but I figured repetition was key. Thus for weeks I'd kept it up, begging her to get with me or to let me take her out on a date. And tonight, she'd finally caved. Sort of. Mom and Dad had decided to use their weeklong Thanksgiving vacation from work to visit some old friends in Florida, so they were out of town for the week. There'd be no turkey, no stuffing, and no apple pie for Emma and I, but we were happy to exchange that for a week free from parental supervision. Normally I'd throw a party and invite my friends, but Operation Sister Seduction was more important. I'd asked Emma if she wanted to stay in, watch a movie, and have a "sibling date night." She'd agreed, on two conditions: I had to pick up some wine, and she got to pick the movie. So there we were, cuddled up together on the couch, drinking pinot and watching some dumb romcom on Netflix that she'd already seen a million times before. I knew that tonight was finally going to be the night. I just knew it.
"Come on, Em, just show me your tits," I begged.
"No way!" said Emma. She looks particularly stunning right now. I'd suggested we 'dress up' for our sibling date night and Emma had taken this advice seriously. She'd put light makeup on her cute, elfin face. Her long, wavy-brown hair was in a messy bun. And her five-foot-two, thin hourglass frame was covered by a light-blue sundress that made her look like the sexiest little thing on Earth.
"Why not?" I ask.
"Oh, I don't know," says Emma. "Number one, sisters aren't supposed to show their tits to their brothers!"
"Stop being such a prude," I say. "You know, twenty years ago everybody thought being gay was gross, too."
"It's different," says Emma. "And anyway, I'm not a slut. The only guy I'm going to show my naked body to is my boyfriend."
"And do you have a boyfriend?" I ask.
Emma blushes a little. "No, but that isn't my fault," she says. "All the boys in my high school are either losers or creeps, or both. They only want one thing. Once I get to college, I'll be around more mature guys, and I bet I'll find my soulmate. A guy who's serious about our relationship, and wants to settle down."
"Yes, if there's one thing college guys are famous for, it's their seriousness and maturity," I say sarcastically.
"So what are you saying? All men are shit?"
"I'm just saying that you can't trust random dudes," I say. "That said, there's an alternative. A guy you've known your entire life. A guy who only wants the best for you. A guy who's sitting right here."
I smile at Emma and put my arm around her, trying to draw her in for a hug. She pushes me away.
"Christ," she says, rolling her eyes. "I think I liked you better when you were spitting spitballs at me from across the dinner table."
"Hey, I haven't done that in at least three years," I say. "Come on, I bet we'd make a great couple. We have similar interests, similar personalities, similar facial features even!"
"Fuck off, Ethan," says Emma. "You're taking this joke too far."
"It's not a joke!" I say. "Look, it's almost a year before you go to college, and it'll probably be the same amount of time before I have enough saved up to get me own place. We could date right here, right now. I'd basically be doing you a favor, since as we discussed, there are no decent boys in your school."
"And I suppose you'd get to play with my tits all you want," says Emma.
"We already established that that's a perk of being your boyfriend," I say.
"Wow, what a sacrifice for you, to do something so selfless," says Emma, rolling her eyes. She looks down at her C-cup tits (yes, I've spent a fair amount of time examining Emma's bras, and yes, they look way bigger than C-cups on her slight frame), currently hidden beneath her sundress.
"I wish I'd never grown these things," she says. "They just bring unwanted attention. Five guys have asked me to Homecoming in the last week. All dickheads, of course."
"Yeah, what idiots, especially when you already have a boyfriend," I say.
Emma slaps me across the cheek, half playful, half irritated. "You aren't my boyfriend, you're my brother!" she shouts.
"Those things aren't mutually exclusive," I say.
"Shut up for a few minutes, this movie's getting to the good part," says Emma.
So I shut up for a few minutes. The movie is about a young woman who falls in love with her senator father's political rival, a modern-day take on Romeo and Juliet. It's a terrible film, to be clear: the dialog is nonsensical, the script uses every cliché in the book, most of the acting is godawful, and there are several plot holes that are, at this point, completely unresolved. It's overly romantic sludge, put in a sleek package and sold to the desperately lonely. But I can't look away, partly because I suppose that 'desperately lonely' category applies to me, and partly because the female lead is played by Alison Brie circa 2015, who bears more than a passing resemblance to my beautiful sister.
As the characters finally kiss around the midpoint, Emma lets loose a long sigh. "Why can't I find a love like that?" she asks.
So I lean over and start making out with her. Yes, with my own sister. Yes, the wine probably helped my decision. To my surprise, she doesn't pull away. Her mouth opens and our tongues meet, dancing around each other. My sister's tongue. She's kissing me back with surprising intensity, as if my mouth contains some fluid that she needs to live.
Slowly, we pull our faces away from each other. There's a long bead of saliva still connecting our mouths. Emma closes her eyes for a long time and opens them, trying to regain her grasp on reality.
"I shouldn't have done that," she says. "How much wine have I had?"
I kiss her again before she can talk herself out of this altogether. Making out with Emma is an intense experience. Her strong perfume is my nostrils, the taste of wine is on her lips, her little sundress is begging me to take it off. Come on, it says, don't you want to see the tits I'm covering up? They're your little sister's after all. You've watched them blossom and grow from nothing. Every time you caught one of your friends staring at them, you've told them to knock it off. Don't you deserve some kind of reward? Come on, pull me down!
"Shut up, sundress!" I shout.
"What?" asks Emma.
I yank her sundress down. Her tits are still covered by a bright-pink bra. I reach behind her, fumbling to undo it, lust pumping through my veins. Finally I get it and rip it off. Her beautiful C-cup sistertitties are staring me right in the face. I feel like King Arthur finally gazing upon the Holy Grail. I bask in their sublime glory.
"Can I - can I touch them?" I ask.
"What?" Emma laughs, half-amused, half-irritated. "You make out with me without asking, tear my dress and bra off, and all of a sudden you need permission?"
"I wouldn't touch the Mona Lisa or the Venus de Milo without permission either," I say reverently.
Emma rolls her eyes, but giggles a little. "I think that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me this year," she says. "How sad is that? Okay, you can touch them, but make it quick, before my brain turns back on and I remember how weird this is."
I don't need to hear it twice. I reach in, fondling and caressing my baby sister's tits. Her little pink nipples are hard, and they seem to get harder as I move my hands over them.
"Careful, big brother," Emma moans. "They're sensitive, you know. How'd you like it if I treated your dick this way?"
"Emma," I say, "I would love it if you treated my dick this way."
"Okay, bad example," she says, just as I go in and start sucking and licking her areolae. I'm in heaven right now. This would probably be embarrassing, I realize, if I was currently capable of feeling anything besides lust.
"You can stop now," Emma says.
"I don't want to," I say. Instead, I reach a hand under her sundress from below.
"Ethan," she says, in a warning voice, her face pouty.
My right hand reaches into her panties and finds my sister's warm, wet pussy. Whatever she claims, I can tell from how drenched she is, that she's been longing for this almost as much as I have. I begin to move my pointer finger around her clit, and she groans.
"Oh, Ethan," she whines. "Ethan, we aren't supposed to be doing this."
"Why not?" I ask, playing dumb.
"Are you really going to make me say it?" she asks, then bites her lip, trying to stop from moaning.
"Say what?" I grin, applying more pressure to my sister's most sensitive area.
"We're brother and sister," Emma gasps, panting from her intense arousal. "Brothers and sisters aren't supposed to, you know, play with each other."
With my free hand, I point to the shelf above the TV, where there are tons of pictures of Emma and I at various ages, some of them including our parents. In one, twelve-year-old me is squirting six-year-old Emma with a water gun. In another, eight-year-old Emma has fourteen-year-old me in a headlock.
"I disagree," I say. "We played together as kids, shouldn't we play together as grown-ups?" I take her chin in her hand and stare deeply into her eyes. Finally, after months of effort on my part, I feel her resistance collapsing.
"But Ethan," she pleads, now barely putting any effort into her objections. "Ethan, what if someone found out..."
I kiss her again, but this time gently, slowly, passionately. She melts into me, her body arching against mine. Did she really think I'd have it any other way? I think. With her body, her tits, her personality, her face, did she really think I'd let some other guy have her? Fuck that. From the day my little sister turned eighteen, it's been open season, and now she's finally mine. Sister, girlfriend, who gives a shit.
I release her mouth and start kissing the rest of her body: her chin, her neck, (of course) her tits. Then, I pull her sundress up and make out with her belly button. She giggles and I press on, lower. She's wearing cute little pink panties with a bow on them. Why would she wear them tonight if they weren't a present, waiting to be unwrapped? They're already pulled a bit to the side from when I was fingerbanging my little sis five minutes ago, but now I pull them all the way down. All obstacles removed, I stick my face right in Emma's pussy.
"Oh, fuck!" yells Emma, any pretense of not being into this totally gone. "Oh my God! Ethan! This is incredible!" I allow myself a brief grin before getting back at it. I may not be a perfect boyfriend, I'm the first to admit that. But none of girls I've dated have ever said that I'm not extremely willing to eat them out, or that I'm not incredible at it. I'm glad my little sister agrees.
As my sister bucks and screams somewhere above me, I touch my tongue to her tight vagina one more time and she lets loose an intense scream and has a full-body orgasm. I can tell she's forgotten what's going on, probably even forgotten, for a brief second, that I'm her brother. I take advantage of this to unzip my pants and show her my seven-inch, fully erect member.
"Oh my God," Emma says, seeing it. "Is it always that big?"
"It's usually pretty big," I admit, "but I'm probably a little more aroused than usual. You are pretty fucking hot, Emma."
She blushes. "You're so nasty," she says, giggling. "None of my friends' brothers get this way for them."
"Maybe your friends aren't as cute as you," I say. "Or maybe their brothers do get this way for them, and they're just too big of cowards to say anything. Wouldn't that be the worst, to have a big brother who's a coward?"
"Yeah," said Emma "That would definitely be the worst thing. Much worse than, I don't know, a creepy big brother who's constantly trying to seduce his high-schooler sister."
"Oh come on," I say. "I just got you off, and you loved it. What kind of sister will you be if you don't do the same thing for me?"
Emma eyes my hard cock again. The thing looks like it's about to explode. "Jeez, you must really want it," she says. "How about this: I'll get you off, but you have to take me out to dinner tomorrow night. And foot the bill. If you're my boyfriend, it's only fair."
Emma grasps my cock with her small hand. It barely fits around my massive boner, but the sensation of her soft skin sends shivers up my spine, and I gasp with pleasure.
"Deal?" she says.
"Deal," I gulp.
She starts touching me, applying almost no force. She clearly doesn't have much experience, but that hardly matters: just knowing that it's her, and staring into her eyes (or her breasts) is enough to send me into spasms of ecstasy. Even now, as she gently strokes my cock like she's petting a shy animal, it's only through sheer willpower that I avoid cumming instantly.
"Do you want me to, like, go down on you?" Emma asks."Would you?" I ask, hardly daring to believe it.
"I've never done it before," she says. "I might not be very good at it."
"Just pretend it's a Tootsie Pop," I say.
Emma grins. "I used to bite Tootsie Pops open right away to get to the tootsie part," she says, flashing her teeth at me. "I'll pretend it's a Blow Pop instead. That seems more appropriate anyway."
She leans over, extends her tongue, and licks it once, very gently. And that one single lick, from my beautiful, doe-eyed, uncertain-looking sister is all I can take. My penis trembles very slightly and a geyser of hot, wet brother-spunk goes shooting out. The first spurt goes into Emma's mouth; the next few splash her nose, mouth, cheeks, forehead. She squeals as I paint my little sister's face white with great big globs of my cum.
"Fuck!" I shout, as the waves of semen finally subside. "I'm sorry, Emma. Let me get a towel."
She just giggles and licks her lips. "This is a lot of cum, big brother," she says, laughing. "When's the last time you got off, last year?"
I shake my head. "Yesterday," I say. "But I was beating off to a picture of you, so I don't know if that makes any difference."
She sticks out her tongue at me. "You're so gross," she says. "Now I'm going to go shower your splooge off me. This date tomorrow better be good."
She prances away, leaving me alone with the romantic comedy, which is in its last fifteen minutes.
"I know I'm not supposed to love you!" the female lead is shouting. "But screw what society says! Screw what anybody says, besides me and you!"
*
The next day, I head to Emma's high school at 3:30 with the intent of picking her up and taking her to dinner. Prior to leaving, I've put on a dress shirt, a suit coat, and trimmed my facial hair so it's not quite as shaggy as usual. Maybe Emma got the looks in the family (and probably the brains as well), but I'm a pretty handsome dude, I think as I examine myself in my car's rearview mirror. I'm a hair over six feet, share Emma glimmering green eyes, I'm bulky but not fat, and I like to imagine I have sort of a Chris Pratt loveable-rogue thing going on. If I cleaned up a little more and started working out daily, I bet I could pass for the lead in one of Emma's romcoms, no problem.
Being outside the school makes me feel old. I graduated from this same place five and a half years ago, after all. The bell rings and students start walking past me. It's entirely possible that they think I'm a hip young dad, or maybe a new teacher just out of college, there for an interview.
I see Emma strutting along, wearing a little plaid skirt and white blouse. Her wavy brown hair is down and she looks sublime. Holy shit, I think, I'm dating a goddess. Then I see the person next to her and my blood curdles. It's an extra-douchey looking guy Emma's age, wearing ripped jeans and a black hoodie. From the looks of it, he wants something from Emma, and she really doesn't want to give it to him.
"Come on, Emma, please, let's hang out, just once."
"I'm not going to your house, Jake," says Emma, sounding quite irritated. "I've heard stories about what happens to other girls there."
"Aw, they're just making shit up," says Jake. "Come on, what's the matter? You got a boyfriend?"
I see Jake trying to grab at Emma's hand and I'm already out of the car, hurtling toward them.
"Jake, just leave me alone," says Emma.
"Why," says Jake. "Are you just a frigid bitch, like everyone says?"
I punch Jake right in the face and he goes to the ground. "Hey man, what the fuck?" he whines.
"How dare you!" I shout, pulling Emma in close. "This is my girlfriend, do you hear me? Don't pull that shit with my girlfriend!"
"Dude, how old are you, like 30?" Jake asks.
"Old enough to know that when a guy acts the way you're acting, he's in for a beatdown," I say. "Tell all your dumb friends, anybody who tries that shit on my Emma is going to get ten times worse than that. Come on, Em, let's get out of here." I pull Emma, who just looks stunned, in for a kiss. Then I grab her hand and lead her to my car.
About a minute into our drive, Emma finally speaks. "You shouldn't have done that," she says.
"Why not?" I ask. "That guy was giving you shit, and I gave him what he had coming."
"It isn't that," says Emma. "You called yourself my boyfriend. What if some of my friends you've met saw what just happened? Or they hear about it later? How am I supposed to explain that the guy who's supposedly my boyfriend is also my brother?"
I shrug. "You're smart, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
"Plus, what that guy was doing is no different from what you did last night," says Emma. "Every fucking guy thinks he's entitled to me, you included."
"That's different," I say. "I would never call you a frigid bitch. Plus, he's just some fuckboy, whereas we're soulmates, destined to be together."
"Oh, is that what we are," Emma grumbles. "Last I checked, we were blood-related siblings, but I'm sure you're right."
"Come on, babe, I just scared off all the annoying guys at your school," I say. "Plus, now everyone's going to know that you're dating a hot older guy. This is going to do wonders for your popularity."
"I can't believe you punched him," Emma says. "Have you ever even been in a fight before?"
"No," I say. "Being with you really brings out my possessive side."
"Oh, that's healthy," she says. "Possessive twenty-something dating a high schooler? Also the high schooler happens to be his close relative? No red flags there."
I pretend not to notice her sarcasm. "I'm glad you agree, babe," I say. "I think we're going to make a great couple, too."
*
Things get less icy when we get to the restaurant. It's a cute little café on the banks of a river in the area, and it looks like something out of a fairy tale. Emma almost swoons when she sees it.
"Oh my God, it's so cute!" she squeals. "I feel like a Disney princess right now."
"Does that mean you'll make out with me?" I ask.
Emma rolls her eyes. "Well, you're not Prince Charming, that's for sure," she says. But she kisses me nonetheless, a long, wet, deep kiss from my little sister that tastes like the strawberry-flavored gum she's always chewing.
"Come on," I say. "Let's go inside."
*
My sister and I get a little table in back. Everyone is staring at Emma in her little schoolgirl uniform, from the old man eating by himself two tables to our right to the teenage boy who's sitting with his family on our left. They're probably both going to go home after this and jerk off to her, I think. And so will I, at least, if she isn't willing to help me. Some things really do unite all of us, regardless of age. I put my hand on hers as our waitress approaches.
"Hi, welcome to Priscilla's, can I get you some - oh my God, Ethan?"
Jillian, my ex-girlfriend, stands over us. She's a cute blonde, currently wearing a black dress that accentuates her toned, marathon-runner's body, and her long hair is in a messy ponytail. As I think I may have mentioned, Jillian and I dated throughout college, only for her to break up with me when she got into medical school and I decided to, uh, take some time off before figuring out what to do next. She's been working at this café for the last few months to help pay her tuition: a fact that I was well aware of when I decided to bring Emma here. Maybe that makes me an asshole, but I just can't resist showing her off.
I smile. "Hi, Jillian. Have you met my girlfriend, Emma?"
Jillian's smile falters for a second as she looks toward the beautiful girl sitting across from me. "No, I haven't," she says, gritting her teeth. "It's lovely to meet you, Emma. Can I get you two something to drink?"
I order two glasses of wine and Jillian leaves. I smile and turn to Emma. "I knew she'd forget to check your ID," I say. "She gets so scatterbrained." Then I notice that Emma looks pouty.
"What's the matter, babe?" I ask.
"Did you just bring me here so you could parade me in front of you ex?" she asks. "Is that all I am to you, a trophy?"
"Of course not!" I say. "I chose it because I thought you'd love it, and based on what you said five minutes ago, I was right! Come on, babe."
"Stop calling me babe!" shouts Emma. "You want to be my boyfriend, tell me three things you like about me. And my tits or my body or my face don't count."
"How about your legs?" I ask, quickly adding, "Kidding! Kidding!"
"Not funny," says Emma.
"You have a lovely smile," I say.
"That's one, and it's still a physical thing," says Emma.
"Your last name is beautiful," I say. "Valentina. What is that, Italian?"
"We have the same last name, idiot." Emma frowns at me. "This last one had better really be good."
I pause. I know I've pushed Emma to the breaking point, that right now she's really irritated with me, and I can't afford to alienate her more. This whole making-my-sister-my-girlfriend thing is insane enough, and she could get cold feet at any minute. What can I say to draw her in, to convince her that we can't go back to being a normal brother and sister?
"October 14, 2001," I say. "I didn't realize it at the time, but it would become the most important day of my life. I was six years old, and I was supposed to go to daycare after school, but then Grandma Ellen picked me up and told me something that would change my life forever. She told me that my little sister had just been born."
"At first, I wanted nothing to do with you. I thought you were a weird, gross, tiny thing that took all of Mom and Dad's time and attention away from me. I was used to having them all to myself, but now they were yours instead. I started acting out, getting trouble in school. I got sent home in the first grade for punching kids at recess five different times.
"And then, one day when we were older, all that changed. I realized you weren't just an annoying lump. You were a little person with thoughts and feelings and emotions. You could my friend, my playmate, my sister. Do you remember exploring the woods out behind the house? Roughhousing in the living room? I do. And it felt good, after so many years of being a loner, a weird skinny kid with braces who nobody liked, to have a friend who couldn't leave me, because she was more than a friend, she was a family. And no matter how much we played pranks on each other or argued, that was always underneath it.
"We grew apart when I went to college, and I regret that. Because you're the person I've always been closest to, Emma, and you're the person I was meant to be with. I love you, I always have and I always will. I know I talk about how pretty you are, but if you were some cross-eyed, bucktoothed weirdo I'd still have the hots for you, because you're my best friend, my little sister, my everything."
I look up. Emma looks emotional. It worked. Was I telling the truth? Well, sure. Sort of. Nothing I said was a lie, per se, but I'm not the kind of person to have super cheesy, romantic feelings like that. But I know that's what Emma's into, based on her taste in movies. And if getting a little cheesy is what gets me into my sister's pants, then so be it.
"You... you mean all of that, right?" she asks.
"Every word and more," I say.
"You're not just trying to fuck me after all," she says. She sounds genuinely moved.
"Not just, no," I say.
She grins, but tears are leaking from her eyes. "Get over here, you big perv," she says.
I lean over the table and we start kissing again, but this time it's different. Last time Emma's kiss was hesitant at first, then accepting. Now she's slow, passionate, teasing me with her tongue, begging me in her shy, innocent way to continue. We stare into each other's eyes and I see something in her big greens that looks remarkably like passionate love. My sister is starting to fall for me, I think, and the thought makes my heart race.
"Ah-hem," I hear. We look up. Jillian, my ex-girlfriend, is standing over us, looking disgusted, and - is that a bit of jealousy I detect? This dinner may well be the high point of my life.
"Sorry," says Emma, brushing her hair out of her face.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Jillian asks, evidently deciding that ignoring what she just saw will be the best strategy.
"We'd like to split a bottle of rosé," I say. Then to Emma, "You'll like rosé. It's very sweet."
Jillian nods, seemingly anxious to get away as soon possible. I don't blame her. Seeing me dating Emma might not be quite as bad as seeing me with, say, Scarlett Johannsen, but in the non-celebrity category it's hard to imagine someone more envy-inducing than my sexy little sister.
"What if she'd carded me?" asks Emma.
"I knew she wouldn't," I say. "She was too freaked out by seeing her ex-boyfriend locking lips with a total hottie like you. She could barely speak in complete sentences."
Emma smiles. "That only took you about a minute, to go from sounding like the lead in a romance to an adolescent boy."
"I have range, what can I say?"
"I need to wash up," says Emma. "Back in a minute."
She departs in the direction of the restroom, and I watch her round, bubble-shaped ass bounce as she leaves. I start wondering what my life with Emma as my girlfriend will be like. I want to show her off at every fancy restaurant in town. I want to kiss her everywhere, touch her everywhere. Most of all, I want to make love to her, to take her virginity. The thought makes me completely hard.
"You son of a bitch."
I look up to see Jillian standing over me. She's set the bottle of wine down on the table, but her hands are on her hips, and she looks mad.
"How do you do it?" she half-shouts, half-sobs. "You're a loser-ass slacker who lives with his parents and probably makes less than twenty thousand a year, but you go from dating me to, like, the cutest girl in the world, even if she does look like she's half your age!"
"Jillian, I'm sorry -" I start, but she's beyond all reason. I sort of feel bad now. Part of the reason I'd brought Emma here was to show her off, but I never guessed that it would affect Jillian this much.
"Meanwhile," Jillian continues shouting, "I'm pretty hot, I'm in med school, and I'm still single and every guy I meet on the apps is a total asshole! How did you win this breakup, you prick? How?"
"Don't talk to my big brother that way!"
Emma has returned from the bathroom and is facing down Jillian. It takes a second for me to realize that, in the heat of the moment, she forgot to refer to me as her boyfriend and called me her brother instead.
"Sorry, what?" asks Jillian. "Did you just say your brother?"
Emma gulps, then steels herself. "That's right!" she says. "He's my boyfriend and my brother! And he's been in love with me every since we were little, so every time he fucked you he was probably imagining it was me!"
I look around, caught between embarrassment and lust for my little sister. Everyone in the restaurant is watching this. The teenage guy who was staring at Emma earlier looks as if this is better than the best movie he's ever seen. Everyone here knows what incestuous perverts Emma and I are. And, I realize, she doesn't care. And neither do I.
"Hey wait, I do remember you," says Jillian. "From when Ethan and I were dating. Back then you looked totally different. You were a weirdo emo kid who wore way too much eye makeup and listened to music super loud in your bedroom."
"Yeah, well that emo kid is now fucking your ex, how does that feel?"
"This is so weird," says Jillian. "I can't believe you two are dating. It's so gross. This is a new low, Eth. Maybe you should just get out of here."
Emma takes my hand. "Come on, big brother," she says, pulling me up. "We don't need anyone else to approve of our love. All we need as each other."
And then, with the eyes of everyone in the restaurant following us, we depart, hand in hand, to all appearances a normal (if unusually attractive) college-age couple.
*
Back in the car, Emma and I start making out again.
"I'm sorry I screwed up and said you were my brother," she says in between passionate kisses. "I was just so mad at that girl for talking shit about you."
"I thought it was hot," I say.
"You don't think she'll, like, tell on us to Mom and Dad, do you?" asked Emma.
"No way," I say, as Emma starts to kiss and suck on my neck. "Jillian hated them and they hated her. Even if she tried it, they probably wouldn't believe her."
Emma pulls away from my neck, leaving a hickey there, and starts to unzip my pants. "Good," she says. "For the record, I didn't like her when you were dating her either. She's a stuck-up, uptight bitch. My big brother deserves so much better." She pulls my boxers down, revealing my cock, which is even harder and angrier-looking than the previous night. She touches it lightly.
"Oh my God, Emma," I say.
She smiles. "Hey," she says. "There's another upside to dating your own sister - you don't have to worry about introducing me to the family. Your parents already love me!" She giggles maniacally as she starts going down on me.
I manage to last a little longer this time, but not much. My little sister licking and sucking my cock with surprising skill in the car I used to drive her to school in, in broad daylight where anyone could, if they wanted to, peep in the window and see her going down on me? It's like a scene from a brother-sister porno, of which I've seen a fair few. And as Em tongues the very tip of my cock ever so lightly, I lose control and blow my wad all over my little sister's face for the second time in twenty-four hours. Once again, the amount of semen I produce is massive. My little sister brings something out in my body that no other girl can.
"Em, please, let me have sex with you," I beg, staring at my sister's cum-covered face. "Pretty please, with cherries on top. I want you so much."
"I'm sorry, this is all happening so fast," she tells me. "I love you, or I think I love you, but losing my virginity is a big deal. Losing it to my big brother is even bigger. I'm not just going to give it up after two dates."
"You're a prude, you know that?" I ask. "Jillian put out the first night we hung out."
"Well, I'm not Jillian, for better and for worse," says Emma. "And that wasn't much of a date, anyway. We got chased out before we could eat or drink anything, and I'm really hungry."
"Let's go to McDonald's," I say. "I'll buy."
*
The next day is Emma's last day of school before her long Thanksgiving weekend. That night, after she gets home, we eat pizza and I pick up a bottle of rosé to replace the one that we never had a chance to drink the previous day at the restaurant. Emma, again clad in a plaid skirt, nestles in close to me as we watch another one of her dumb romance films, this one about a couple of thirtysomethings who want to stay free and single for their entire lives but get married to placate their parents and, lo and behold, end up falling for each other.
"All of these movies are exactly the same," I complain between extended makeout sessions with my baby sis. "There's two people, and they click perfectly, but for some reason they aren't allowed to be together, or don't want to be, and then the whole thing is about them deciding to say 'fuck it' and end up together after all. You can see it coming a mile away, but they always draw it out and act like it isn't going to happen." As I say this, I pull Emma on top of me so that she's facing me.
"It's not about how it ends," says Emma. "It's the journey that makes it so romantic."
I start dry-humping her slowly. Her skirt is spread over my crotch, and my cock has long since sprung out of my boxers, so the only thing between it and her pussy are my jeans and her panties.
"Who gives a shit about the journey?" I ask. "They meet, they're into each other, they bone, they decide to get married. This movie could be over with in fifteen minutes."
"Ugh, that's so like you," says Emma, although she kind of moans it. (My dry-humping is getting increasingly intense.) "You just want to get to the point, and skip past all the buildup. The buildup is important, doofus!"
"Somehow it feels like we aren't talking about the movie anymore," I say, unzipping my jeans. My cock spills out, now pressing directly against her panties. We keep on pressing our bodies against each other, just a thin layer of fabric preventing us from truly committing incest.
She grins. "I wonder why that is."
"Haven't we had eighteen years of buildup?" I ask. "I get that this is only our third time hanging out as a couple, but it's about our ten thousandth time hanging out in general. Remember playing in the rec room as kids? Remember after I got my driver's license, when I'd take you to get ice cream after school on Fridays as a special treat?"
"Oh, so now all that counts as dating?" asks Emma.
"Emma, if you don't want to fuck, now's your chance to get up," I say, continuing to rub my cock against her barely-covered pussy. "Get up, leave, go to your room, and I won't follow you. But if you choose not to do that, don't pretend that you don't want it as much as I do."
"It's just... so wrong," she says, looking down at my member pressed against her, not stopping or making any attempt to push me away. "My own brother, taking my virginity. I'm not some slut. Everyone thinks of me as sweet and modest and innocent. This isn't me at all. Me is waiting for college, meeting a nice, normal boy my age, and dating for a few months before we finally mutually agree that it's time. All this, what we're doing right now, seems like something that someone else would do."
We fall silent again, listening to the movie. It's almost over, and the male lead has chased his female counterpart to the airport, where she was planning on fleeing.
"Why are you running away from me?" he yells.
"I have to!" she says. "All this lovey-dovey stuff is great, and I wish we could keep doing it, but it feels like something someone else would do! It isn't me!"
"Then maybe you aren't the person you think you are," says the male lead. "But you're sure as hell the person I'm in love with."
Emma gasps. "What are the odds that line was played right after I said what I said?" she asks. "It's like the Universe wants me to commit incest with you."
I stare up at her, making puppy-dog eyes, begging her in every way except for verbally to have sex with me.
"Fine," she says. "Let's make love tonight. But if anyone asks, it's the Universe that's the big perv, not me." I note that she's smiling, and looks suddenly very excited. She wants this as much as me, I realize, and the only reason she's arguing at all is because she thinks she's supposed to play coy, to put off losing her virginity as long as possible. But that's bullshit - hot sisters are supposed to fuck their older brothers, and finally Emma understands that too.
"You won't regret this," I say.
"Promise you're in love with me." She's suddenly deadly serious, although, sitting over me with her clothes askew and my cock pressing against her panties, it comes off a bit comedic.
"I'm in love with you," I say, trying to sound as serious as she does.
"Tell me you'll always be in love with me," Emma says.
"Always?!" I yelp. "Always is a long time, Emma."
She crosses her arms. "Forever love is forever love," she says. "Say it."
I balk, but my mammalian brain screams at me, Don't fuck this up!
"I'll always be in love with you," I say.
"You know that I have the power to make your life a living hell, if you're lying to me," she says. "Maybe some people see sex as something casual, but to me it's a sacred bond between two lovers. If you hurt me - well, let me put it this way. There may be such a thing as an ex-girlfriend, but there's no such thing as an ex-sister. You can't just get rid of me, because I'm family, and compared to what I'll do to you, what Jillian said yesterday will look like fucking nothing."
Jesus Christ, what am I getting myself into? I think. But my libido doesn't care about what kind of crazy shit my baby sister is spouting. "Yes, ma'am," I say. She could probably say we have to commit ritualized suicide after sleeping together and I'd nod along like a zombie.
"Well, then, big brother," she says, pointing down the hallway to where both of our bedrooms are. "My place or yours?" She laughs. "I say mine - your room is kinda stinky."
"Sounds good," I stammer. For the first time in a while, I'm at a loss for words.
My beautiful little sister, her hair flowing, her skirt half-off, climbs off me, takes my hand and leads me down the hallway toward her room. We pass the photos that have been hanging there since we were kids: both sets of grandparents, all of whom are now gone; Mom and Dad on their wedding day; Mom and Dad with me as a toddler and Emma as a baby; and Emma and my high-school graduation pictures.
The sweet, perfumey smell in Emma's room is overpowering. Her walls are light pink - she demanded they be painted that way in high school, and that's how they've stayed. There are posters on the wall for her favorite bands, movies, and TV shows, and I realize just how little I have in common with my baby sister, taste-wise. I recognize a poster for Amelie, but otherwise it's all pop-punk bands and chick flicks, most of which I've never even heard of. It's not like I've never been in here - I come in relatively often, mostly to steal bras and panties - but that type of visit tends to incentivize getting in and out quickly. This is the first time I've had a chance to look around.
Emma sits down on her bed and smiles up at me.
"Big brother?" she asks, her eyes big, her eyebrows raised, her lip bit, obviously playing up the innocent-little-sister act.
"What," I say, my mouth dry.
She smiles coyly. "Do you want to fuck me?"
*
I take a condom out of my wallet and pull it on. The thing barely fits - usually I'm a "large," but my level of arousal has caused my dick to engorge way past its normal size, and it takes several seconds of kneading to get it on correctly.
"Jesus Christ, Eth, how is that thing supposed to fit inside me?" Emma stares as she pulls off her skirt and yanks down her panties. I've seen her pussy before - hell, I've spent a fair amount of time tasting it - but this is the first time it's been in good lighting. It's pretty, but I'm just now realizing how little it is.
I approach Em, pull off her shirt and kiss her. Her kisses are now wild and full of anticipation; her tongue probes my mouth, as if searching for information about what this next experience will be like. I reach behind her and pull her bra off, and her milky-white tits fall out. My little sister is now completely naked. I push her down on the bed, still kissing her, wanting to touch as much of her sexy body as possible, to absorb this experience completely.
"Put it in, Ethan," she says in a high-pitched whine.
With one hand I position my cock directly at the entrance of her pussy, while with the other I rub her clit, hoping to make her wetter to make the experience less painful.
"Emma, this might hurt a little at first," I say. "Just know that it's going to feel better soon."
She nods. "I need my brother's dick in me, right now."
So I cross the incestuous Rubicon and thrust into her. She cries out in some combination of pain and pleasure as I penetrate her hymen, making it deep into her pussy, which right now feels like some kind of sheath made specifically for my cock. I look down at my sister from above. Her green eyes are wide open. It looks like she's in a trance.
"Emma, are you okay?" I ask.
She looks right into my eyes, and starting in that moment I feel some kind of electricity running between us. "I think," she says, speaking slowly and half-moaning, "that this is how we're meant to be."
I begin pumping her, ever so slowly, and she starts moaning along. I kiss her briefly and she responds passionately. Even through the condom, her pussy feels phenomenal, like it's somehow milking my cock, begging it to release the sperm within. I can't do that yet, I remind myself. I have to make this last as long as I can.
I pick up speed a little bit, holding Emma's thin waist for support. Her eyes are closed, and she's smiling slightly. With her long hair spread out beneath her head and her arms outstretched, she looks like some kind of perverted angel, smiling in beatific glory as a cock that looks much too large (but fits just right) pumps away at her.
Then, her eyes flash open. "Do you like fucking your little sister?" she asks me innocently, fluttering her eyelashes seductively.
"I love fucking my little sister," I say, pushing particularly deep into her.
"That's good," says Emma. "Because I like having my - ooooohhhhhhh! - my big brother's cock in me." She giggles. "Just think about how naughty this is. Think about what anyone would say if they knew about this."
"I don't really want to think about that right now," I say, placing my hands beneath her and gripping her bubble-shaped ass like it's the handles on an amusement park right. She squeals in response.
"But you have to think about it," says Emma, her face maybe a foot from mine, her eyes boring into my soul. "You could have picked a million different women - oooohhhhhh - if you'd wanted to. You could have dated a nice girl from work, or found someone on the apps. But you didn't. You wanted sisterpussy. Don't you dare pretend this is normal, or that I'm just another girl, because I'm not. - Oh, fuck, Eth! - I'm your little sister, and I always have been, and I always will be!" Then she grins, and like a bratty kid demanding her favorite toy, yells, "I want to go on top! Now!"
It takes all my effort to pull out of my little sister, even though I know it's just a for a few seconds. A long bead of her juices connects my cock to her pussy, and she smiles when she sees it.
"I always knew we had a special connection," she deadpans.
"You're not funny," I say, rolling over on my back. "Just get on top of me."
Emma clambers up onto me, gripping my sides for balance. Squatting, she moves her pussy so it's about an inch over my cock, and slowly begins lowering onto me.
"I still don't believe this thing fits inside of me," she says. "Remember in Chronicles of Narnia, when there's the closet that looks normal but can actually fit a whole world inside it? I think my vagina must be like that."
"Chronicles of Narnia is way less sexy that you seem to think it is, Em," I say, as my cockhead finally enters her sisterly folds.
"Oh, come on," she says. "Don't you remember reading them together as kids? It was such a bonding experience." She lowers herself an inch farther, moans, closes her eyes and bites her lip.
"This is a better bonding experience, though," I say, arching my back to press my cock deeper. "Don't you think?"
"Oh yeah," says Emma, as if this is obvious. "Now I understand why incest is forbidden, though. Every brother and sister in the world would be mating with each other right now if this was considered okay."
She leans over to my ear. "I want you to pretend this is the only chance you have to let me know how you feel," she whispers. "I know you've wanted me for months, years, my entire life. And here, you've finally got me. Don't hold back. Are you ready, big brother?"
She lets go of my hips and plunges the rest of the way onto my diamond-hard brothercock, her bubble butt impacting my thighs with a loud plop. I groan as we start fucking with depraved intensity, her bouncing up and down on me like I'm the mechanical bull ride at the local mall, me shoving my dick farther and farther into her innermost reaches, to the places where no brother has gone before. I've had great sex before, but this is something else. It's like our bodies are trying to make up for all the time we've spent apart in the last few years, and for every millimeter my cock penetrates my sibling's pussy, we regain a bit of the intimacy we once had.
Emma's moans become a near-continuous wail, some of it comprehensible English, some just nonsense. "Ohhhhfuckbrother ohhhyesssharder iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou ohhhhyourethebestbrother ivealwayslovedyou ooooohhhhhshit imtheluckiestsisterintheworld godyes keepgoing," she screams, her ass bouncing up and down and her hair flying in my face the whole time. I reach for her big sistertitties, which are bouncing around above me, and hold them for dear life. Her pussy is getting tighter and wetter by the second, closing in around my cock like it never intends to let go.
And then, just as Emma's voice reaches its maximum intensity, she has an orgasm, squirting her sisterly juices all over my cock and hollering so loud that the neighbors can hear, "BIIIGGG BROOOOTHER!" Her eyes meet mine and I'm transported back in time maybe a dozen years, to when Emma and I used to play house in the tree house our dad built for us. As always, she was pretending to be the high-maintenance but doting housewife and I was the hardworking husband. We'd just had a squabble - I was reaching adolescence and wanted to go play soccer with my friends, and Emma, a few years younger, got mad and accused me of being a bad husband who never spent time with her and our children (who were both Barbie dolls). I stormed out of our "house," but I was soon wracked by guilt, turned around and went back and apologized to her. She started crying out of joy, called me the best husband ever, and hugged me. I remembered her green eyes boring into me as we did so - those same green eyes that are staring so intently at me now.
And then I realize that I'm cumming, shooting wad after wad of semen into my Emma's pussy as she finishes her own climax. My brotherly white stuff pulses out of my cock like water from a firehose, seemingly determined to mark my sister's pussy as its own. If I wasn't wearing the condom, I'm pretty sure I would have just knocked her up with quintuplets, and I feel a sudden, sick, primal longing to have done so, to watch my full-blooded sibling swell with my children, to make her mine. But thankfully, that particular depraved fantasy passes as my sweat-soaked sister collapses on top of me and kisses me lightly on the mouth.
"Wow, big brother," she says, eyes wide, mouth open. "That was incredible. This is the best day of my life. I think we really are soulmates."
"I think so too," I say, and I realize I mean it. This whole time I thought I was mostly bullshitting to sleep with Emma, but now that that mission's accomplished, I'm realizing that everything I said was a hundred percent true. I love my little sister, we were always meant to be together, and I can't imagine life without her. But, as she lies on top of me, my cock still embedded deep within her cunt, I feel a pang of guilt. Before, I was looking at Emma as some combination bratty little sister/hot piece of ass. But now that I've admitted to myself that I love her, I'm thinking maybe I haven't been such a great brother-boyfriend.
"Emma," I say, "I'm sorry if I pushed you into this."
She looks up at me, resting her chin on my chest, her long hair cascading down my sides. "What do you mean?" she asks.
"I've spent the last year trying to seduce you," I say. "And the last three days I've been relentlessly pressuring you into having sex with me. At no point during any of that did I stop to consider what you wanted. I feel like I've been a shitty boyfriend and an even worse brother. If you want to slow things down, maybe back up to where we were a couple nights ago, that's fine with me."
To my surprise, Emma responds with anger. Her eyebrows become vicious slashes, her nostrils flare, her mouth forms a frown. I don't fear much from a hundred-pound teenage girl currently impaled upon my cock, but even so, the intensity of her expression is enough to give me chills.
"Are you fucking serious?" she asks.
"Emma, what -"
She pushes herself up off my chest and glares down at me from above. "You tell me you love me," she says. "You tell me we've always been meant to be together, that we're a couple, that we're soulmates. Then we fuck, and two minutes later you want to slow things down?"
"That isn't what I meant - "
"Sure it isn't," she says, lifting herself off my prick. The condom, full to the brim with my cum, splashes off, making a mess all over both of our lower bodies. "Of course not. Because my big brother isn't some fuckboy who just screws his little sister and then tells her to get lost. Right?"
Her tiny left hand finds my throat and grips it with surprising intensity. I could probably fight her off, if I wanted to, but she's taken me completely by surprise. "That's right," I gasp. "Em, what are you - "
"Things are just getting started," Emma continues, lightly pressing her nails into my throat. "Isn't that right? First off, we're going to fuck in every room of the house. Your bedroom, the attic, the sun room, the rec room. Then you're going to take me on all the romantic dates I've ever dreamed of. The footbridge at midnight, that fancy French place downtown, maybe we can even get a hotel room in the city for a night. And finally, you're going to take me to my high school's Winter Dance. Not to be a jerk, but you can be kind of a slob - I bet if you cut your hair and get dressed up, even my friends who have met you won't recognize you. Our new life together is going to be exciting, and sexy, and romantic, just like a fairy tale or a movie. Capeesh?"
I get that crazy eyes is kind of a sexist term, and maybe an overused one, but I don't think I've ever seen crazier eyes than my sister's at this moment, as she starts planning out the rest of our lives. How can I possibly respond? What is my life going to become, now that this madwoman has me under her control? And then, in spite everything, my cock starts to get hard again.
"You said something about fucking in every room of the house?" I ask.
"That's right," says Emma.
"Then I want to bang you in Mom and Dad's room, right now," I say. "Mom has some lingerie in the hamper that I think you'd look really good in."
Emma sighs as if she's frustrated, but it's an act. The anger disappears from her face, and she releases my throat, leaving me to regain my breath. "You really are a massive pervert, big brother," she says. "The hamper, you said? I'll shower and put them on. Wait here for fifteen minutes, and then knock. I want you to fuck me so hard that I forget my own name. My first name, that is. I'm never going to forget that we're family."
And then my nude little sister, still covered in my cum and her own juices, her pretty face slick with sweat, gets up and walks out the door. I watch her bouncy ass wiggle, it and the curve of her back accentuated by her intentionally sexy walk. As she gets to the door, she turns back to me. I think she's about to blow me a kiss, but instead she makes a goofy face and sticks out her tongue.
What a little brat, I think, but my cock swells even more, eagerly anticipating its next taste of my little Emma's sisterly twat.
*
For the remaining of the week our parents are gone, Emma and I fuck like wild animals. We screw in the tub where we used to take baths together as children. We bone on the dining room table where we eat together as a family. We make love in my bedroom, replacing the smell of unwashed clothes and empty beer cans with the odor of sex. Then, when we're banging in the rec room one fine morning, Mom and Dad come back home, which brings us back to where I started this story, in the rec room, with me and Emma hurriedly dressing and dashing from the room to avoid our parents discovering our incestuous love affair.
A couple of nights later, we're sitting in the living room, watching yet another of Emma's dumb romantic comedies. In this one, which is reaching its end, a workaholic lawyer has finally admitted his love for a free-spirited florist and the two are getting married, after approximately ninety minutes of will-they-won't-they hijinks. Emma is snuggled up on my shoulder and, under the blanket that covers both our lower bodies, she's gently stroking my rock-hard penis.
"Hey, kids."
Emma and I start and look over to the entrance of the room, where Mom is standing.
"Hey!" we both say, as innocently as possible. Emma doesn't release my cock - if anything, she starts stroking it harder.
"I just wanted to say," says Mom, "lately it seems like the two of you have really been getting along, and that makes me so happy as a mother. I remember how close you were as little kids, and I always hoped that you'd carry that relationship with you for the rest of your lives."
Emma grins. "Oh, yeah," she says. "Ethan's the best. We're going to keep our relationship forever." She flutters her eyelashes at me. "Isn't that right, brother?"
"That's right," I groan, close to cumming.
"You kids have a good night," says Mom fondly, and she leaves. Emma glances at me wickedly, well aware that Mom is only a couple steps away from the doorway and can easily hear us, and starts furiously making out with me. The sudden intensity of it sends me over the edge and I ejaculate for maybe the fortieth time in the last ten days, this time into my sister's warm hands.
"Dude," I say, when I'm finally finished, "we have to be more careful. What if she'd come back?"
"Well, she'd probably be even happier about how close the two of us are," says Emma, giggling. "Now are you going to eat your little sister out again, or what?"
*
A Month After That
On Christmas, Emma and I go with our parents to our aunt and uncle's place for our annual family holiday party. The big news this year is that Cousin Jamie, who's older than me by a couple years, is expecting a child. Naturally, everyone's fawning over her and her husband, a boring finance-type whose name I can never remember. Totally disinterested, I mumble my congratulations and wander into the kitchen to fix myself an old fashioned. Emma follows, looking a bit put out. She's wearing a festive red dress and her hair is in a pleated braid around her head. Just looking at her makes me hard, but really, what else is new.
"Is something wrong?" I ask her.
"I'm fine," she says, unconvincingly. "Make me one too, big brother. Extra strong."
"You aren't old enough to drink," I say. "Mom will go ballistic."
"Just do it," Emma insists.
As I start stirring the old fashioneds, our Aunt Lucille, Jamie's mother, enters. Every family has at least one nosy relative who thinks everyone's personal life is their own business; in our family, it's Aunt Lucille. She glances suspiciously at me and Emma.
"What the hell are you two doing in here, being all antisocial?" she asks.
"Just hanging out," I say casually, hiding Emma's drink behind my back.
"I bet you're jealous of Jamie!" Aunt Lucille says to both of us, but mostly to Emma. "As you well should be! Her husband's a real winner, the baby's going to be beautiful, and they've made Bob and I very happy. I can only hope that you two will make your parents happy one day, too. Are either of you seeing anyone?"
I shake my head. Emma, taking my cue, does the same, a bit morosely.
"Well then," she says. "Emma, you're in high school, so at least you've got time. Ethan, I don't know what your game is. You'd better hurry up, both of you, or you're going to wind up old maids, or whatever the male equivalent of an old maid is. Merry Christmas, you two!" And with that, she leaves.
"Give me my drink," Emma says, as soon as Aunt Lucille is gone.
"I haven't added the garnishes yet," I say.
"Just give it," Emma says. She grabs it out of my hands, chugs it, makes a face, and sets the empty glass down on the counter. I watch in concern as my lovely sister storms away, muttering something under her breath.
I spend most of the rest of the day wandering around the upstairs of my aunt and uncle's house, trying to avoid my most annoying relatives. Around 5 pm I'm drinking my fourth Old Fashioned on the foot of the bed in the guest bedroom, where Emma and I used to stay overnight when we were kids and Mom and Dad were away. To my surprise, the door slams open and Emma flounces in. Her eyes are reddish, like she's been crying, but she isn't crying anymore. She has a steely, confident look that, if we're being honest, scares the shit out of me.
"Big brother," she declares, "I want you to get me pregnant."
There's a long pause. "Wha- what?" I ask finally.
"Everyone's losing their shit about Jamie's dumb pregnancy, and ignoring everything else, and I'm sick of it. I want to be the center of attention. I'm sick of busybodies like Aunt Lucille treating me like a nobody because I'm single. I want physical proof of our love, like Jamie and her dumbass husband are about to have."
"Emma," I say, searching her eyes for some hint that this is a joke, "You know we can't do that."
"Why not?" Emma asks, sitting down next to me. "It's the right time in my cycle and everything. Or at least, I think it is. I can never keep track."
I sigh, and put my arm on Emma's warm back. I realize that she's probably snuck more to drink than just that one old fashioned. "Babe," I say, "You know I love you, and I've fantasized about this too. It's like, the ultimate taboo fantasy. But we can't do it. You're my sister. Siblings aren't supposed to have sex, but we absolutely can't have a family. People would freak."
Emma glares at me and puts her hands on her hips. "What the hell does that matter? I'd think siblings would make better parents than just two random strangers. They're already family."
"How are we supposed to keep that secret?" I ask. "You remember what Jillian did, after she found out. It would be like that, times a hundred."
"Maybe I want that," Emma says. "Maybe it's worth it."
"I'm sorry, babe," I say. "It's too much, even for me."
"You promised!" Emma shouts, totally ignoring me. "You promised that we'd be together forever, and you know I want kids! Have you been lying to me this whole time, or do you just not care about my feelings?"
"You're in high school and I work in a grocery store!" I say. "How are we going to support a family?"
"I'll be out of high school by the time our baby is born, and you could get a better job!" Emma shakes her head, seemingly on the brink of tears again. "I can't believe you used me like this. You're the meanest brother ever. This is a hundred times worse than when you put all of my Beanie Babies in the trash." Her eyes flash with sudden, vindictive excitement. "I'm going to tell Mom and Dad," she says. "That's what I always did before when my big brother was being a meanie, and they always backed me up."
"What?" I ask. "Emma, that's insane!" Is she actually drunk and insane enough to think that telling Mom and Dad that her brother won't impregnate her will have the desired result? I wonder. Or is she just trying to scare me into doing what she wants?
Emma goes to the door. "Mom!" she shouts. "Dad! Big brother is being a jerk! He said he loved me but he won't even -"
She's silenced as I grab her, put my hand over her mouth, and pull her backward onto the ground, where we wrestle for several seconds, each trying to gain the upper hand. I'm a lot stronger than Emma, but she's angry, vicious, unstoppable. "Yoof affholf!" she shouts, her voice muffled by my hand which remains over her mouth. Then she bites it, hard. I holler in pain. Taking advantage of my momentary distraction, Emma undoes my pants and forces them off. She stares down at me from above, crazier eyes than ever. "Come on," she whispers, half-seductive, half-threatening. "Imagine how close we would become, honey. Bonded by blood, by true love, and by the child we're raising together. Children, hopefully. I want to have a big family."
"Emma, you're nuts," I say, my words betrayed by my hard cock, all seven inches of which are currently standing at attention.
"Am I?" she asks, pulling her dress up and panties to the side. "Am I crazy to want the man I love's seed inside me? To want everyone I know to see the fruit of our love growing inside me? To be marked forever as your bride, just like in a fairy tale? To pump out kid after kid who's half like me and half like my soulmate, my best friend, my husband, my brother?"
"Get off me, you lunatic!" I shout, trying to push her away, and we go at it again, wrestling with each other, naked from the waist down, both trying to gain the upper hand. Suddenly, I feel an intense warmth and a jolt of pleasure. I look up and feel a sinking sensation. My little sister's pussy is fully impaled, for the first time completely raw, atop my throbbing brothercock. I gasp and she laughs maniacally.
"True love conquers all, big brother," she says.
It's then that I realize that I've already lost to her. Any independence I had from my sister was surrendered on our date to that café where I confessed my feelings, at the time only with the intention of seducing her. On that day I stopped being a person with his own desires and goals and plans, and instead became a character in the romance film that plays at all times in my little sister's head. Thus, I got my wish and slept with her, and she became my girlfriend, but it couldn't stop there, because in Emma's mind that's not what love was. Love was romantic date after romantic date, forbidden rendezvous after forbidden rendezvous and, eventually, children, a house in the suburbs, a white picket fence and, most importantly, a husband who dedicated a hundred percent of his time to making all of this happen. It didn't matter if what we were doing was illegal, if our children bore genetic risks, if our parents and our entire family disowned us. In the love story in Emma's mind, all of that just made it more romantic.
And then I decide I'm fine with being subsumed completely by my little sister. Six weeks ago, I was just a loser who had a shitty job, was depressed about his ex, and spent all his time jacking off to pictures of his blood relative. Now, I'm a man with a purpose.
"Emma?" I say.
"Yes, big brother?" she asks.
"Let's make you a mommy," I say.
She squeals in excitement, and I start banging her harder than I ever have in my life.
I can tell within milliseconds of pumping her that we're never going back to using condoms. The feeling of Emma's tight pussy around my naked cock is just too much to bear. All restraint immediately disappears from me and Emma and I are pounding on the floor of our aunt and uncle's guest room like two farm animals whose only purpose on this earth is to procreate. We're both screaming and moaning, surely loud enough to draw the attention of some of our relatives, but neither of us particularly cares. After maybe two minutes, or perhaps eternity, I feel my brotherly love start to spurt out of my cock and into Emma's twat, millions of sperm now searching for her egg, disinterested in the fact that the girl they've just been released into is my blood sister. My jizz pours into her seemingly endlessly, my body doing everything in its power to ensure that I've made the hot young thing whose pussy is milking my cock mine.
When I finally finish, Emma pulls herself off of me. I can see in her eyes that she's forgotten all about Jamie, or about Aunt Lucille, or anything else that motivated this: she's in a world of pure love and bliss. She lies down next to me with her legs up, in order to keep as much of her cum inside of her as possible. I stroke her hair, and she cuddles me, but neither of us say a word. Soon, everyone will know about our love: all our relatives downstairs, of course, but soon after that our friends, Emma's teachers, my coworkers, probably even the gossipy old ladies down at the local coffee shop who seem to know every single detail of every relationship in town. Right now, I think I hear some of our relatives walking upstairs to investigate what made that godawful racket, and they'll doubtless freak out when they open the unlocked door and discover the truth. But for now, it's just me and my little sister, and perhaps the egg inside her that's just begun the process of dividing and expanding and becoming our incestuous spawn.
And that's all either of us need.
*
Three Months After That
I'm standing at the front of a big, grand church, wearing a suit and tie. Our father is walking my bride-to-be, who also happens to be my little sister, down the aisle. They're playing that wedding song over the speakers. You know the one.
I would've been fine getting married somewhere more casual, and having a small ceremony, close friends and family only. Hell, I would have been fine having no ceremony at all, and just starting to call each other "husband" and "wife," rather than "boyfriend" and "girlfriend." It's not like any of this has any legal basis anyway - everyone knows that brothers and sisters can't get married. But Emma has had her whole wedding planned out ever since she was a little kid, if there's one thing I've learned in the last four months, it's that my little sister tends to get what she wants.
Emma, it should be said as she takes her place by my side, looks absolutely radiant right now. She's wearing a flowing, low-cut bohemian-style wedding dress, and has a circle of flowers in her hair. Her makeup is elegantly done, and her belly bulges just slightly outward, a mark of where my child is growing inside her.
The officiant of the wedding starts droning on about how special our bond is and how we'll be together forever. This isn't a minister - no minister wanted to officiate a marriage between siblings, which I'm pretty sure is forbidden in several places in the Bible, so this is some hippie we found on the internet. I look down at the audience. Over half of them - Aunt Lucille and Cousin Jamie among them - seem to have arrived with approximately the same expectations they'd have at a zoo. They gawk at us, the perverted brother who seduced his own sibling and the lunatic sister bears the mark of said perversion, an incest-child already visibly growing within her as she enters the second trimester of her pregnancy. To them we're a curiosity, if not an abomination. (There are a fair number of family and friends, mostly older, who put us firmly in the 'abomination' category; needless to say, today they aren't here).
Then, sitting in front, there are the few who seem genuinely happy for us.
There are Mom and Dad, who after several expletives and a long lecture about how irresponsible we'd been, decided that their love for us transcended whatever mistakes we'd made. (In fact, the next day Dad confessed to me privately that if he'd had a sister as hot as Emma growing up, he probably would have made a move on her too.)
There are Jillian and her little brother Tony. I never would have guessed that Jillian and I would end up being friends, especially after our breakup and explosive confrontation at the café, but it turned out that this pushed her to seduce her own brother, which turned out to be the best decision she'd ever made in her life. She apologized to us for our confrontation just a couple weeks ago, and Emma extended the olive branch by inviting them to our wedding. Jillian and Tony have been together for two months now, and are even talking about starting their own family.
There are Emma's bridesmaids, three cute girls from her high school class (notably less cute than Emma, though). They stand next to her, looking excited for their friend. It seems like the younger generation, having grown up with incest porn and Game of Thrones, has fewer objections to family love than older people, and I've heard from Emma that two of her bridesmaids were even considering starting relationships with their own brothers.
Finally, there are David and Lizzy, sitting in the second row with their four kids, and Lizzy obviously several months along with a fifth. David is handsome, tall, and brown-haired; he's shy and reserved but exudes a quiet confidence. Red-brown haired, short, bawdy, curvy Lizzy is the opposite - she's a firecracker, always talking out of turn or bursting out laughing. The two had reached out after news of my relationship with Emma became public. They're a sibling couple too: they've been together for over six years. David is just a little older than me, and Lizzy is about my age, but they're much further along in life than the two of us. David is a department head at a local tech firm, and Lizzy teaches kindergarten, although her brother seems to knock her up so frequently that she spends over half her time on maternity leave.
"That's the way sibling couples are," Lizzy had advised Emma when we'd stopped in to visit them back in January. "If your brother's anything like mine, you'd better get ready for a big family. It's like the fact that he's screwing his sister triples his virility. I'm not even old enough to rent a car in a lot of places, but I've already got enough kids to make a 1950s housewife jealous."
Emma smiled and put her hand on mine. "I'm counting on it," she said. "I just hope I can look as good as you do, after that many."
"Oh, you be quiet," said Lizzy. "With your figure, you've got nothing to worry about. Your brother was smart to lock you down by knocking you up right away."
"Don't be silly," said Emma. "Why would I want any man but my brother?"
At the end of a long night of conversation, David had offered me a job doing public relations for his firm. It wouldn't be much, he said, but it would pay much better than my grocery store job, and allow Emma and I to buy a small home together. Before I could say anything, Emma answered 'yes' for me. What choice did I have?
"Do you, Emma Valentina, take this man, Ethan Valentina, to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in sickness and in health?"
My mind snaps back to the present, here in this church. All eyes are on us as the officiant reads our vows.
"I do," Emma says, and she basks in the moment.
"Do you, Ethan Valentina, take this woman, Emma Valentina, to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in sickness and in health?"
I take a deep breath. "I do," I say.
"Then I hereby pronounce you man and wife," says the officiant. "You may kiss your sister - uh, I mean the bride."
I grab Emma in my arms, lean her back and we share a long, open-mouthed, tongue-heavy kiss. We'd agreed on this beforehand: most of the audience came for a show, and we might as well give them one. We hear a gasp from Mom, a whoop from Lizzy, an 'aw!' from Jillian, a 'how romantic!' from one of Emma's friends, and a "Well, I never!" from Aunt Lucille. After almost a full minute, we pull away from each other, just a bit.
"I think this is our happy ever after," Emma whispers to me.
And as I stare at my gorgeous sister, all I can think is that she's wrong, and that our story's just begun.