love my big sister, Susan, I really do, but not in the way that a brother should love his sister. When I think back, as far as I can remember, just as I've always been in love with my sister, I've always peeped on her dressing and undressing. With her being three years older than me, a lifetime, when a young adult, I was afraid to let my true feelings be known for fear that my Mom would take me to a shrink to have my head examined and maybe she should have back then. My sexual attraction to my sister started during the time that I was peeping on my mother and, instead of subsiding, as I developed from a young adult to a man, my physical attraction to my sister has matured and grown into the real love that a man feels for a woman, when he falls in love and wants to marry.
"Only, I can't marry my sister, can I?"
My incestuous attraction to my mother, Molly, wasn't nearly as strong as my twisted feelings of love that I have for my sister, Susan, but, after reflecting back on watching my mother undressing, if only for comparison sake, seeing my mother naked was exciting, too. Yet, whenever given a choice, more than incest but love, if they were both in their rooms changing in their bathing suits, I'd rather watch my sister strip naked than watch my mother. Even though I knew it was wrong to invade their privacy, I felt as if I were a big game hunter hiding in a clothes closet, instead of in a blind to bag his prey. Waiting for them to enter their room and for the exact moment when they'd stripped off their clothes, while already in place, was always so exciting.
"Oh, my God! My Mom is removing her dress and is standing there in her bra and panty."
Strangely enough, though, as if my Mom knew I was hiding in her closet watching her undress, perhaps her way of enabling me, she'd always turn around to face me, whenever she reached around behind her back to unhook her bra. Standing so silently still, I'd hold my breath waiting for her to remove her...
"Good God, she just removed her bra. Nearly close enough that I could reach out and touch them, my Mom's breasts, her areolas, and her nipples are right there before my horny eyes."
I'd stare at my mother's tits, while touching myself through my pajama bottoms. Then, when she removed her panties and showed me her big, blonde bush, is when I removed my cock from my underwear and masturbated in a handful of tissue. She stood in front of her mirror naked, while brushing her blonde hair, and through her louvered closet door, I had a clear view of the front and the back of her with the aid of her mirrored reflection. Only, content in just watching my mother undress, I never lusted over my Mom in the way that I lust over my sister.
Content to just masturbate over my Mom undressing, while watching her parade around her room naked, I never wanted to have sex with my mother in the way that I always wished I could have sex with my sister. Just as I've masturbated over my mother, I can't count how many times I've masturbated over my sister. The stealth skill set I learned spying on my Mom, I later used to spy on my sister. I always wondered, had my Dad not worked the graveyard shift, had my Dad been home more to monitor my immorally abnormal behavior, being that I still incestuously lust over my sister, if I would have grown up to be the pervert that I am today.
Having watched my mother dress and undress for years, I was 23-years-old and she was a matronly 55-year-old woman, when she and my Dad were killed in a car accident. Now five years later, it's just my big sister and I living together in the same house we grew up in. I don't know why, but I always suspected my mother knew I was there watching her and, never looking my way, where I stood hidden in her closet, she never opened her closet door to retrieve an article of clothing or to put one away. Her clothes were always already on the bed in preparation of changing.
"Weird."
I thought, as I got older, dated women, and had sex that I'd outgrow spying on my sister undressing, but I didn't. All paling in comparison to her, none of the women I dated measured up to my sexy sister. Embarrassed to admit, but if given a choice of watching my sister undress or some woman I picked up in a bar undress, I'd rather watch my sister strip naked. Too enamored, an understatement, with her naked body, whenever she was stripping off their clothes, I imagined Susan undressing for me.
So, being that this is an Earth Day contest story, what does incestuous peeping on my sister have to do with Earth Day? Well, since my sister earned her Ph. D in Earth Sciences three years ago from the University of Alaska, she's been an invited speaker at the Earth Day Symposium each year in St. Louis. It was because of her Earth Day project, funded from the grants she receives and that spotlights her research, that she enlisted me to help her with her field work in gathering all the information that she needs to give her talks to government officials and other experts in the field and her lectures to students. It's because of our working so closely together that my incestuous attraction to my sister grew, before finally coming to a head. Every day rain or shine, we'd head out to a different part of the rainforest to conduct her experiments. With her 24/7, except for not sleeping with her in the same bed, I only wished I did, nonetheless, I felt as if I was more her husband than her brother.
She's a scientist, a geologist actually, studying the effects that global warming has on the biggest rainforest in the world, the Alaskan rainforest, namely, the Tongass National Rainforest. Armed with a rifle and a handgun, I was her tag along photographer and protector, being that we were in bear country, should there'd be something or someone out there waiting to harm her. Yet, having stalked my sister for years, with an inherent built-in radar and eyes behind my head, I was more sensitive to the two legged predators than I was to the four legged ones. In comparison, if left alone and not threatened, unless they're hurt or protecting their cubs, a grizzly bear is less dangerous than a man intent on sexually assaulting a woman, especially in the wild wilderness of Alaska. In some parts of Alaska, especially where we were, the ratio of men to women was ten to one. Suffice to say that there were lots of horny, desperate, and dangerous men, who wouldn't take no for an answer, should the opportunity present itself to have sex with a vulnerable woman alone in the wild.
Even though I've watched my sister strip naked dozens of times, while hiding in her closet, each time I watch her strip naked is as exciting, as if it was the first time. Just as I know that it's wrong to peep on her undressing, I know that it's wrong to lust over my sister, but I'm unable to control myself from watching her strip. I don't know why I'm so sexually attracted to her, but I am. More than any other woman, wishing that I could touch her and feel her but unable to take that next step, for fear she'd reject me, she arouses me in a way that makes me want to touch myself, while just thinking of her undressing.
Having to be satisfied with just watching her undress, while masturbating, I can't get enough of ogling her naked body, while she gives me a nightly, naughty, striptease show. The anal geologist that she is, even when at home, she acts as if she's out in the field performing her conservationism work on the soil and her environmental testing on the water, in the way that she does, when writing about the flora and observing the fauna. As if she's meticulously recording every minute detail of herself undressing in her little scientific notebook, it amazes me how she undresses in the same exact way every night.
"Check it twice. Then, check it again," she mumbles to herself, while squatting down to record her research information in her scientific journal with her little, blue pencil that looks as if she had taken it from Big Bubba's Blue Balls Bowling and Billiards. Unlike others who only celebrate Earth Day one day a year, with every day Earth Day to my sister, as if she's a human mother nature, she's in tune with the planet. I've never seen a woman as excited over nature and all things natural, as when she's on all fours on the forest floor looking for clues as evidence to support her theories of the destructive damages to the environment caused by global warming, and how better to help with and improve conservationism. "Okay, you can photograph it now, Tommy. I'm done," she says to me, while looking up with a preoccupied look, sometimes looking right through me, as if I'm not even there.
Always mindful of the intelligence behind her big, bright, blue eyes, I'm careful not to be caught staring down her open blouse at her low cut bra and abundant cleavage. Enamored by her tits, the exposed roundness of the top of her breasts curve away and disappear down inside her bra with her cleavage, as if the sides of her big breasts are a design feature on an antique Chrysler Imperial. With her head down and her so focused on her work, she's oblivious of me staring at her exposed breasts.
"I love her tits. A real rack, she has beautiful breasts," I say to myself, as if my daily mantra in preparation of peering down her blouse.
I'd do anything to touch her breasts, feel them, caress them, and suck them. As if she's my model and I'm her photographer on a photo shoot, I watch her through my camera lens, while daydreaming about feeling her big tits. Then, as soon as she looks up at me, I slightly turn the camera away from her to focus on the image she wanted me to capture. If only she knew how enamored I am with her, I wonder her reaction. If only she knew how much I want to have sex with her, I wonder if she feels the same way about me, too. Yet, what stops me from acting upon my sexual impulses is because she's my sister. Because we're blood related, bad enough that I'm lusting over her, it's one thing to look but it's quite another thing to touch.
The dedicated and focused researcher that she is, so absorbed in her work, no doubt, thinking of me as just her baby brother, shadowing her, she's unmindful of my sexual presence much of the time. Unaware that her blouse is always so open and that her bra clad breasts are always so exposed, she doesn't know that I'm studying her in the way that she analyzes everything else in nature. Even when she's not there undressing in front of me, having watched her remove her clothes so many times before, I'm now able to visualize her slowly stripping off her clothes again, whenever I want. When alone in my room and thinking about her undressing, as if she's standing right there stripping for me, I masturbate over all that I remember seeing of her.
Only, while watching her undress, with the distant look that she has in her eyes, I wonder what she's thinking. So involved in her work, and with no man in her life, except for me, doesn't she ever get horny? More importantly, does she think of me, when she does? When she mindlessly lifts her head to the ceiling, while unbuttoning her blouse, is she imagining slowly stripping off her clothes for me? In the way that I'm so fixated with her shapely body, in the way that I study her, as if watching a flower blossom and bloom in slow motion photography, does she ever think of me in the sexy way that I think of her?
A modern day, albeit female version of Charles Darwin, admittedly, she seems more the naturalist than the woman and more the scientist than the lover. If I described her as a scientist and a geologist with a Ph. D, one may think of her as a wirily thin, grey haired, and plain looking woman, ala Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg wearing a long black robe and thick eyeglasses, instead of a long, white lab coat and fashion flattering lenses. Only, they'd be wrong. With the educated brain, careful thought, and articulated speech of Miss Hathaway, as if she were a Wellesley woman educated in art instead of science, she possesses the unparalleled beauty and the curvaceous, big breasted body of Ellie May Clampett of the Beverly Hillbillies. Oxymoronic in every way, even after having known her all my life, Susan is as true an enigma, as she is a mystery to me. Honestly, other than her being so smart, beautiful, and sexy, fully aware that my lust for her is outrageously incestuous, I don't understand why I'm so attracted to my sexy sister, an understatement, but I am.
So precise and organized in her detailed observation and documentation of nature, when alone in her room with a hand down her panty and a finger rubbing her bean, while her other hand fondles her breast and fingers her nipples, does she think of me in the way that I think of her, while I'm in my room stroking my cock? Does she think of our times we shared together talking and laughing during our long, insightful walks through the forest, while discussing environmental conservationism? Or does she more think of collecting soil samples, testing water, and cataloging her specimens of insect, flower, and fauna? When making notes in her notebook, in readiness of her talk at the Earth Day Symposium about conservationism and in the continuation of her research of the ever changing environment, is she as distracted in her diligent geological research, as I am in my photographic research, as her research assistant?
Instead of just thinking about rocks and organisms, doesn't she ever think about simpler things, womanly things, such as sex and orgasms, as I always think of manly things, such as her being naked and having sex with her? Whenever I'm with her, I think of her naked, just as whenever I'm not with her, I think of her naked. Christ, unable to control my incestuous lust for her, so horny for my sister, I'm always thinking of her naked. Even when she's dressed, having seen her naked so many times, I see her as if she's standing before me naked. When most men would be satisfied seeing my sister's tits, ass, and pussy, I wish I could feel my sister's tits, ass, and pussy. Unable to remove the naked image of her from my mind, I constantly think of my sister's tits, ass, and pussy.
Alone in the woods with her and with not a soul around, sexually frustrated, I always feel guilty for being more focused on her, my beautiful eighth wonder of the world, than on the beauty of nature. It'd be funny, if she was just as horny, when with me, as I always am, when with her. It'd be my fantasy, if she thought more about having sex with me than about her research but, watching her work and realizing her dedication, I know she doesn't. The consummate professional, especially, when she's off exploring rocks, collecting soil samples, and testing water, so focused on her work, most times, she's oblivious to anyone around her, including me. It's a good thing that I'm there with her to protect her from bears and the more dangerously devious, two legged predators, who hide in the forest hoping to stumble across an oblivious female victim to sexually assault.
Even after having seen her naked so very many times before, wanting, hoping, and excited to see her naked again, I'm still aroused by the mere sexy sight of her low cut bra from the down blouse views that she routinely and unconsciously gives me. With her partially unbuttoned blouse, whenever she stoops over a rock, bends over a plant, or leans into an insect, I stand poised in preparation to ogle her, while watching her through the camera lens to capture whatever it is she wants me to photograph. Doesn't she know she's giving me a down blouse view of her bra, the long line of her cleavage, and the roundness of her breasts? Doesn't she care that I can see so much of her bra clad breasts? Wanting to, but so afraid to reach out and touch her, feel her, is she just oblivious or is she teasing me?
When alone in her room at night, while touching herself, is she just as excited knowing she showed me all that I've seen of her hot body, as I am having seen all that she's shown me of her hot body, while I masturbate? Knowing her as I do, no doubt, she doesn't know that I've seen so much of her body, as I have. Knowing her as I do, she'd be shocked, if I told her that I've seen her naked dozens of times, while hiding in her closet. Only, not sexually satisfied just seeing her naked body, I wish I could feel and make love to her naked body.
I wish I could explore and photograph her naked body in the exacting scientific way that she explores and has me photograph the natural occurrences of nature. Having seen the sight a hundred times before, it never fails to excite me to see a flash of her white bikini panty up an open leg of her short, shorts or her ass crack and the top of her panty band, when she squats down to collect a soil sample or analyze mysterious chemicals illegally dumped in the water. Unable to stop myself from looking, always, I peer up at her to see what I can see of her, whenever I give her a ten finger boost up for her to climb a rock face to test the composition and age of a rock formation. When she's climbing, with her legs spread as wide open, as I imagined them to be, while between her legs licking her pussy or on top of her and making love to her, I imagine confessing that I love her.
"I love you, Susan," I say to her, just to hear her say that she loves me, too, while wishing that I was her boyfriend and lover, instead of just her perverted brother.
"I love you, too, Tommy," she repeats mindlessly and so matter-of-factly, without ever lifting her head, while still digging in the dirt.
In the way that she tells me that she loves me, without emotion and so preoccupied in her work, she may as well as have said, "ditto." Still, imagining her meaning in a different way, the sound of those words, "I love you, Tommy," echoes endlessly in my mind and gives more fodder to my masturbation session. When I recall that she said she loves me, I pretend she said that not as a sister saying that to her brother but as a girlfriend saying that to her lover.
"If only she was my lover," I think to myself constantly, especially when I see something of her that I'm not supposed to see, such as a flash of her bra and/or panty.
If only she knew how much I loved her, wanted her, and lusted over her, I wonder if she'd want me, too? Then, when I reach up for her to help her climb down from the rocks, I'm always so tempted to accidentally on purpose cop a cheap feel of her round, firm ass or to grab a double handful of her firm, C cup breasts. Rather, being that we're related by blood, bad enough that I peep on her and ogle her naked body, to contemplate any other unnatural sibling relationship, especially a sexual one, other than a platonic and symbiotic one, would be wrong. Needing to be content just to grasp her around the waist and lift her 120 pound frame in the way of a dancing partner lifting his prima ballerina, I still wish for more. While holding her so close, with the sweet scent of peaches, I can smell her body wash, as I lower her to the ground. Wishing she was mine, I get more of a sense what it would feel like to hug and kiss her, even when innocently holding her.
When carefully walking in close step behind her, close enough to have the fragrance of her essence constantly in my nostrils, we take care to leave a smaller footprint, so as to trample less of the uninhabited forest floor. Yet, every time she bends at the waist in front of me, I'm tempted to accidentally bump into her ass on purpose and hump her hips doggie style, while reaching around her to cup her big tits in my palms. As if it's an erotic and surreal dream happening in slow motion, mesmerized by the mere sight of it, I watch a bead of her sweat appear and collect at the base of her golden hair and slowly slide down her swanlike neck. Tempted to lean to her, flick out my tongue, as if a frog grabbing a fly, and lick off her sweat, while fantasizing that I was licking her pussy, instead of her neck, I imagine my tongue slowly descending down to lick all of her perfect body. Suddenly, transported back in time, I'm Mickey Rourke armed with a tray of ice cubes to cool Susan's hot body, instead of Kim Basinger's hot body in the movie, Nine 1/2 Weeks. Wishing I could recreate that scene with my sexy sister, I'd give anything to cool her hot, naked body with ice, before reheating her with my tongue.
Between being alone with her in the forest and with the hot sun penetrating the canopy of leaves of the trees that beats down on us all day, needing a cool shower, I'm so sweaty hot, literally and figuratively. Sometimes wishing we were at the water park, instead of working in the rainforest with gnats and other biting insects, with me there waiting for her at the bottom with open arms, I imagine my sister speeding down a steep, slippery water slide and losing her bikini top at the end. With no one there but us and with her naked breasts pressed against my muscular chest, we plunge to the bottom of the pool and embrace in a long, wet, passionate kiss, before emerging to the surface to have sex on the shore. Ramming my cock into her, in the way she rams her testing probe in the soft soil to test the temperature and consistency of the ground, while lusting over her, everything that I watch her do turns sexual, when thinking of her doing all of that to her or she doing all of that to me.
Then, with more of them appearing and following the same wet route and sliding down behind the first one, I watch her beads of sweat disappear behind the collar of her open shirt in the way that I imagine my warm oozy cum dripping from her lips to collect in a small, lusty pool on her bulbous, naked breasts. With the hot sun heightening my lust for her, while hardening my erection, the back of her shirt is as damp as I imagine her panties are, after I lick her pussy through them. Knowing she'd say no, just wanting to throw caution to the wind and jump in the cool pool of water naked that we always happen upon in the middle of the forest, water not marked on our map, before I could even suggest the idea, she squats down to test the water.
"It's contaminated with toxic chemicals by some illegal dumper. I'll collect more of a sample to analyze at the lab. Maybe they can identify who the dumper was by the chemicals in the water," she said making a note in her notebook and a mark on our map to report the dump site to the proper authorities to earmark it for cleanup. As if a detective looking for a dumped body or the hidden murder weapon, she always finds what she's looking for by snooping around the dump site. "I found some empty barrels behind these bushes, Tommy. Photograph them from all sides. Maybe some of these labels will help us to identify and find the illegal dumper."
Yet, after being with her all day, nearly time to return home, I'd risk turning myself green for the chance to be naked with her outdoors, just once, even in contaminated water. I wouldn't mind her hosing me down naked, after I hosed her down naked. Just as I've seen her big tits, her round ass, and her blonde, trimmed pussy so very many times before, just once, I'd love to show her my cock. I wonder what she'd do, if I exposed my cock to her. Would she look? Would she stare? Would she reach out to touch, fondle, and stroke my cock, before falling to her knees and taking me in her mouth? Or would she be disgusted by the mere sight of my engorged prick and by the thought of having sex with me, her brother?
More than just a sexual fantasy, drying off her wet, naked body would be my pleasure, especially after she dried off my wet, naked body. I could see ourselves wearing nothing beneath our white safety jumpers, while being quarantined in an industrial hazardous tent for a week. Sleeping alone in the same tent, perhaps, moving our cots closer together, close enough to whisper our wicked thoughts and secret sexual desires, before snuggling, it'd be funny, if she wanted me, as much as I want her. Yet, knowing it's just my sexual fantasy and not her sexual fantasy, twisting me to think that she wants me, as much as I want her, I know she doesn't want me in the way that I want her.
Then, every night, right on time, better than any reality TV show on network television, it's show time. She walks in her room and flicks on the light switch. Intently watching her in anticipated preparation of her stripping naked, as if she's a modern day Lady Godiva undressing in readiness for her naked, bareback horse ride through town, instead of her being a scientist, a geologist, an environmentalist, and a conservationist with a Ph. D getting ready for bed, I wish every man could see what I've already seen of my sexy sister. In addition to her beautiful face, if only they could see her naked, with her big tits, slim waist, blonde pussy, and round ass, then they'd understand how I feel about her and the reason why I do.
"She's so beautiful. She's so sexy. I only wish she wasn't my sister. Then, again, if she wasn't my sister, I wouldn't be standing her hiding in her closet."
In the way that Ginger Rogers kept step with Fred Astaire, only backwards and in high heels, with two hands poised together behind her head in the way of Harry Houdini escaping from his shackles, I watch her skilled fingers deftly untie her braid, while imagining her unbuckling and unzipping my pants with those same long, slender fingers. As if a shimmering shower of sunlight sparkling against freshly minted gold coins, as if she's Rapunzel letting down her long, golden hair, she slowly shakes her head to unleash her sun drenched tresses. Already my beauty queen, if she were in a beauty contest, she'd win. My preferred woman to watch strip naked, if she were the headlining stripper on stage, she'd be laden with money thrown at her feet from the audience and tucked in her g-string. If only she were my girlfriend, instead of my sexy sister, I'd show her how much I love and want her.
If only she was my woman, I'd be the happiest man on Earth. Wishing it was me combing out her hair, I watch her standing in front of the full length mirror, while brushing her long, lush beautiful hair. With her natural blonde hair that runs the color spectrum from pure white to soft yellow to brilliant gold cascading all around my pelvis, I fall asleep every night with my hand around my cock, while imagining her leaning over me and blowing me. I'd do anything for her to come to my room naked in the middle of the night to awaken me with a blowjob.
"Susan! What are you doing in my room? Oh, my God, you're naked!"
"I couldn't sleep, Tommy," I imagine her saying, after startling me awake by her naked visit. "Go back to sleep, Tommy," she says to me in a whisper, while leaning down to lightly kiss my lips, as I reach up my hands to cup her breasts. "If you don't mind, I just came in your room to suck your cock." Just once, if only my sexy sister would enter my room naked and say that to me, I'd die a happy man.
As if she's a conductor on a train to nowhere but here, as if she's a ghost haunting the same place and space at the same moment in time, I could set my watch to the time she walks in her room every night to strip naked in readiness to take her shower. Wishing it was me pouring water through that shower head, splashing across her full breasts, dripping from her pubic hair, and following the curve of her back to fall from her amazing round ass, I'm envious of the shower water enjoying her naked body in the way that I wish my hands could. I'd do anything to shower with her. I'd do anything to lather up her sexy, naked body really good with soapy, warm water, before rinsing her clean. I'd do anything to sit with her, as she takes a bubble bath, while breaking one bubble at a time to see what that bubble revealed of her, before breaking another bubble and another, until there were no more bubbles left to hide her nakedness from me. Then, after she's squeaky clean, when she's standing in front of me wet and naked, I wish I could thoroughly towel her dry on the pretense of making sure that every crack and crevice of her soft, sexy skin was totally dry. After she's completely dry, I'd lick her wet again.
"Oh, yeah, from head to toe, I wish I could lick my sister."
Imagining showering with her with her back up against the wet, tile shower wall, her legs wrapped tightly around my waist, and her lips attached to mine, as if we were one, I'd do anything to feel her, touch her, and make love to her. While kissing and kissing her, French kissing her, before fucking her, really fucking her, with the back of her head gently bumping the shower wall, as if keeping count of all the times that I humped her, I'd do anything to feel and fondle her big tits, before sucking her pink nipples, while fingering her blonde pussy. After working with her all day and sweating with her in the hot sun, out of breath from climbing, and sometimes feeling as if I've already had sex with her, as my personal reward for giving her my undying devotion in helping her with her research, I'd do anything for my sister to suck my cock, while I fondled her big breasts. Only, while masturbating over the imagined image of her, the best that I can ever hope for is to imagine her sucking my cock, while I imagine fondling her breasts, as I watch her slowly strip naked.
Yet, there are some things that I wish I knew about her, if only to heighten the sexual excitement of my masturbation sessions. For instance, of course every woman does, but being that she's my sister and a nerdy scientist, I wonder if she sucks cock. If she does suck cock, I wonder if she swallows. Unless I asked her, unless she sucked my cock, how would I ever know? I should think that someone who looks like her, as hot as she looks, would not only suck cock but also would swallow, too. It would be such a waste, if she didn't suck cock and swallow. Something she'd never tell me, if she has sucked a cock, I wonder how many cocks she's sucked. While masturbating over my favorite sexual fantasy of her sucking my cock, just as it excites me to think of her sucking my cock, it excites me to think of my sister sucking someone else's cock, while I watch, of course.
I wonder if she'd enjoy sucking my cock, as much as I'd enjoy having her suck my cock. I wonder if she talks dirty in bed. If she's anything like me, her brother, I imagine she does. If she's anything like me, I imagine she loves having sex and making love. Imagining that she is exactly like me, I wonder if she's loud, when she has an orgasm. I wonder what it would feel like to be on top of her naked body with my cock buried deep inside of her pussy. I wonder what it would feel like to have her on top of me and humping me, while leaning down to hang her long, blonde hair across my shoulders and her big tits in my face. I wonder what she'd say and do, if I whispered in her ear, all that I was thinking and all that I wanted to do to her naked body.
"I love you, Susan. First, I want to make mad, crazy love to you and then, I want to fuck you like you've never been fucked before," I imagine saying that to her and shocking her into submission. "I want to give you an orgasm with my fingers, my tongue, and my cock."
As if she was there doing all that I was thinking, as if my thoughts were real, instead of just imagined as part of my sexual fantasy, I'd give anything to see her naked and on her knees in front of my exposed prick. Watching her stroke my cock and fingering the head of my engorged prick with her fingertips, I imagine her looking up at me, while kissing and licking my cock, as I reach down to fondle her breasts and finger her nipples. Then, just before she takes my stiff dick in her mouth, just before she sucks me, she looks up at me again with her big, blue eyes to tell me what I want and so need to hear.
"I love you, Tommy. A long time sexual fantasy of mine, I can't wait to suck your cock." I imagine her saying, while fondling and slowly stroking my cock to an erection.
"I love you, too, Susan. I can't wait for you to suck my cock," I imagine saying to her, while looking down at her kneeling in front of me and watching as she takes my cock in her warm, wet mouth.
I knew it, I just knew it, I knew my sister wanted me as much as I wanted her. Moreover, my sister sucks cock. My sister is a real cocksucker. Thank you, God, all is right with the world.
"I just love sucking your cock, Tommy. You have such a big, hard prick," I imagine her removing my cock from her mouth to say that to me. I imagine her looking up at me with her bright blue eyes with my hard, hairy prick in her hand and positioned in front of her mouth.
"And I love having you suck my cock, Susan," I say, while I imagine putting a gentle hand to the back of her pretty, blonde head, and pushing her forward, while watching her take me in her mouth again. "Now, don't talk, sweet baby, just suck. Blow me, Susan."
"Only," she says removing my cock from her beautiful mouth, long enough to ask me a question, "would you do me a favor, Tommy?"
"A favor? Sure, Susan, anything. Just name it," I imagine saying, while fondling her big breasts and fingering her pink, erect nipples. "What is it?"
"Would you mind terribly cumming in my mouth?"
Would I mind cumming in her mouth? Did my sexy sister just ask me to cum in her mouth? Are you kidding me? There is a God. Even though this is my imagined sexual fantasy, such a preferred and perfect question, I can't believe she asked me that. Wow! What a sister? What an unbelievable sister?
"Sure, absolutely. Of course, I don't mind cumming in your mouth, at all. It's the least that I can do. Actually, it would be my pleasure to cum in your mouth, Susan," I say with a sly, sexy chuckle.
"Thank you, Tommy," she says taking my cock in her mouth again and sucking me, before removing it again to ask me another question, "And, Tommy?"
"Yes, Susan. What is it baby?"
"After you explode all your lust for me in my mouth, would it be okay for me to swallow your cum? I mean, you won't think less of me, if I swallow your cum, my brother's cum, will you?"
Oh, my God. My sister not only sucks cock but also she swallows. As the good brother that I am, her innocent question, so rich with imagery makes me want to satisfy my sexy sister's every request.
"Of course, Susan, you may swallow. I'd never think less of you for sucking my cock, allowing me to cum in your mouth, and for swallowing my cum. Besides, it wouldn't be much of a blowjob, if you didn't swallow," I say with a lusty laugh, while happy that I could satisfy my sister by merely cumming in her mouth and agreeing with her request to swallow.
"Thank you, Tommy," she says taking my cock in her mouth again and sucking me, while stroking me.
"You're welcome, Susan," I imagine saying to her, while putting a gentle hand behind her head again, so as to hold her in place, while humping her mouth and fucking her face.
"Oh, sorry," I imagine her saying, while removing my cock from her mouth again to speak, "one last thing, Tommy."
"Yes, Susan?"
"If you don't mind and if it's not too much trouble..." she says looking up at me with my cock in her hand and poised by her lips. "I don't know if you can, but if you can...,"
"Yes, what is it, Susan?"
"Would you mind not exploding all of your cum in my mouth? Is it possible for you to hold some back?"
"Hold some back? I don't know if I can, but I'll try. Why, Susan? I don't understand."
Perhaps she fears that I'd gag her with all the pent up incestuous, sexual lust that I have for her. Perhaps she swallows but doesn't like the taste of cum, especially if she has too much of a mouthful. Thinking that holding back some of my cum may, indeed, ruin my blowjob, suddenly having the thoughts of blue balls, I don't think that I could delay ejaculating all my lust that I have for my sexy sister in her mouth and down her throat. A sexual feat nearly impossible to accomplish, stopping an ejaculation, I don't think that I could stop the volcanic eruption of cum, once it started flowing out of my cock, as if lava flowing from an active volcano.
"Having my beloved brother give me a cum bath has been a longtime sexual fantasy of mine. If you don't mind, I'd love for you to give me a cum bath, Tommy. I'd love for you to shoot a second load of your warm, oozy cum all over my face, in my hair, and across my tits," she said looking up at me with those big, blue impossible to disappoint eyes.
Bringing a tear to my eye, for the sake of Susan's happiness, if only to allow her to experience her sexual fantasy, too, in the way that I was experiencing my sexual fantasy, by having sex with my sister, how could I deny my sister a cum bath? Oh, my God. If I didn't know this was a sexual fantasy, I'd think this was really happening. Only, I wish this was real. Nonetheless, it's exciting to think of her asking me these questions, while masturbating over the thoughts of her blowing me, cumming in her mouth, her swallowing, and me giving her a cum bath.
"I'd be thrilled to do that for you, Susan. It would be my pleasure to give you a cum bath. Now, don't talk, Susan, just suck."
"Thank you so very much, Tommy," I imagine her saying, while taking my cock in her mouth again to suck me, really suck me, this time.
Back to real time and reality, from my hidden vantage point in her walk-in closet, I watch her slowly undress, as if she's purposely undressing for me. With her head poised to the ceiling, looking as if she's thinking of her day or getting ready to model nude for an artist, as if it's all happening in a surreal, slow motion dream, I watch her unbutton one slow button of her blouse at a time. Staring at her delicate fingertips, while wishing she was undressing me or I was undressing her, I imagine sitting on her bed, while intently watching her undress and enjoying her naked striptease show. No longer able to control my lust for her, I unzip my jeans, remove my cock from my underwear, and pull it out from my pants. Slowly, stealthily, and silently, I stroke myself to an erection, as I watch her expose her long line of cleavage, along with the top of her jiggling breasts that her bra doesn't conceal. Seeing all of her 36 C cup bra again, instead of just bits and pieces of it in a mere down blouse view, when I die, if I have the chance to pick what I can return to Earth as, if I can't return as her friend, her lover, and/or her husband, as if her bra cups were my horny hands, with my palms supporting her sweet tits, I want to return as her bra.
"Oh, yeah, better than returning to Earth as a bug or as her baby brother again, I'd rather return to Earth as her bra," I think to myself, while watching her strip.
Then, as if she was stripping expressly for me, I watch her unbutton and unzip her jeans, before wiggling herself out of them. Slowing sliding her pants down her legs, while exposing her bikini panties, in the way that I'd love to slide myself up and in between her legs to finger and lick her bikini panties, she sits on the bed to peel her tight jeans from her legs and off of her sexy feet and toes. Having never massaged anyone's feet or sucked anyone's toes before, I'd give anything to massage her feet, while sucking her toes. Then, standing to look at herself in the mirror, she turns one way, before turning the other. As if she's my personal Victoria Secret's lingerie model, albeit without the wings, so much better looking than that big facially featured, arrogantly spoiled, and horribly too skinny Giselle Bunchen, my sexy sister has a much hotter body. Seeing Susan in her bikini panty and form fitting bra, as if she's wearing a thinly transparent bikini made of satin and silk, is my preferred uniform of choice for her.
With her arms positioned behind her back, as if she's a contortionist preparing to squeeze her hot body in a small box, she reaches behind herself and unhooks her bra, as I inhale my anticipated excitement, while stroking my cock faster. No matter how many times I've seen her tits, I can't wait to see her tits again. As if she knows I'm there in her closet watching, staring, and leering, just as in the way that my mother used to do, she turns to face me, while I watch her ever so slowly remove her bra straps from her shoulders, before watching her peel her bra cups from her beautiful breasts to expose her areolas and nipples. If only for the sole purpose of helping her to dress and undress, I wish she was a Royal Princess and I was her lady in waiting.
Now topless, I stare at her naked breasts, in the way that I'd stare at a nude painting of a woman by Manet, Renoir, or Degas, while wishing that I could touch them, feel them, fondle them, and caress them, before sucking them. Still topless, I watch her cup each breast in her hand, first one and then the other, as if checking them for lumps and/or bug bites. I so wish she'd elect me, as her official tit tester. Taking my job seriously, it would take me several, pleasurable hours for me to fully examine her tits each night. Then, with a thumb to her waist band, as if there's a drum roll going off in my head with symbols, upon the completion of stripping herself naked, she slides her panty off in the way that I wish I could slide down the length of her to lick and finger her pussy, before fucking her pussy.
Stealthily hiding behind her hanging clothes to peer out her louvered closet door, concealed from her bedroom light and not daring to make a sound, I'm hidden away in the back of her closet watching her, while stroking myself. Then, as if it's all just a bizarre dream, as if I'm in a huge, crowded, quiet Cathedral at Easter, so quiet that I can hear a pin drop and echo, as it bounces, when it hits the tile floor, while the priest gives his sermon to a silently respectful and intently listening audience, my worst nightmare happens. As if I'm sitting front row center at a symphony orchestra performance playing Beethoven's 9th Symphony, just at the height of the music, and as if it was someone else fouling my perfect sexual fantasy with a loud, involuntary, uncontrollable, and obnoxious outburst, I sneeze.
"Ahhh Chooo! Oh, Fuck," I mumbled beneath my breath hoping beyond hope that she didn't hear me sneeze but, as loud as a canon shot, of course, she heard me sneeze. How could she not?
With me only a few feet away from her, concealed only by her louvered closet doors and hanging clothes, even with my sneezed muffled by her bathrobe sleeve held up to my mouth, how could she not have heard me sneeze? Just my miserable luck, of course, that she heard me sneeze. She'd have to be deaf, preoccupied, or so deep in thought, not to have heard me sneeze. Only, she's not deaf, nor was she so preoccupied or so deep in thought, in the way that she immediately cowered and tried to cover her nakedness with her forearm and hand. As if I was the boogeyman hiding in her closet, instead of her incestuously perverted brother, I frightened her.
In the way of a startled reindeer that we sometimes stumble across in the forest, before bolting in a flash, a jump, and a leap, I watched her standing motionlessly, while staring at the closet door. Suddenly, even though my cock felt so big and so hard in my hand a few seconds before, feeling as if I was a young man peeping on my sister, as I always did before, when living in the same house with our parents, I suddenly felt so small, so soft, and so ridiculous hiding in her closet. Incestuously driven to peep on my beloved sister undressing, already wrought with guilt, I felt so perverted and, no doubt, I was. Knowing it was wrong to have violated her privacy, I felt, as I did, all those other times that I spied on her, while she dressed and undressed and I peeped at her through the keyhole. Still standing there so nakedly exposed, already resigning herself to the fact that I've already seen her naked, no doubt, more than once, she covered as much of herself as she could with her forearm and hand, before flinging open her closet door.
"Tommy! What the Hell are you doing in there? Get out! Get out of my closet, you disgusting pig! What's wrong with you? How dare you spy on me like that? How could you violate your own sister," she said removing her arm from her breasts to punch me in the shoulder. So preoccupied seeing her breast jiggle with her punch, staring at her breasts and leering at her nakedness, I didn't even feel the pain of her punch. Wishing she'd punch me again, this time with both hands, if only for the pure pleasure of watching both of her tits jiggle, I was as excited as I was embarrassed.
Nonetheless the striptease show of her naked body, wishing there was a secret passage out of her closet, suddenly, I wished I were dead. Wishing I had magic powder to make myself disappear or a super hero power to make myself invisible, I wished that I could just cover my face with my hands, as I did when I was a small child, while figuring that if I couldn't see her, she couldn't see me. Even though I was fully dressed, except for my erect cock sticking straight out of my pants and being so sexually exposed, I felt so nakedly vulnerable, as she surely must have felt.
"Sorry," was the only word I could muster. "Sorry," I said again, this time trying to mean it.
Only, so insincere, my empty apology wasn't for spying on her but more for being caught peeping. With nothing else to say, as if a little boy being scolded by his mother, instead of his big sister, I realized my wrong. Never figuring I'd be caught, with nothing else to do but to take my medicine like a man, I didn't know what else to say than sorry. Only, I wasn't sorry that I saw my sister naked. I was thrilled. If anything, obviously by my erection, I was excited and I'd spy on her again, if I could without being caught. Further, to now be standing two feet away from my naked sister was my dream come true. Yet, happy that my voyeurism of her was finally over, glad that she caught me, at last, I was out of the closet, so to speak.
"Why, Tommy, why? How could you violate me like that? Oh, my God, I'm so embarrassed," she said, while shriveling back from my lustful stare.
"Sorry," I said again, assuredly just as embarrassed being caught, as she was embarrassed standing there naked.
"How long have you been peeping on me?"
"For years," I said with my head down. "It stopped, of course, when we both left Mom and Dad's house but started again, after I moved in with you."
Then, forgetting that my cock was still sticking straight out of my pants, when she looked down at my exposed prick, I looked down with her and, proud by the stiffness of my erection, it excited me to know that my sister finally saw my dick. So distracted by my sister catching me in the closet, forgetting for a moment that my cock was still sticking straight out of my pants, that is, until she looked down, now with new material to masturbate over, I couldn't believe it when she looked down at my engorged prick again and stared this time. As if her stare caused a mini fire alarm to go off in my head, I couldn't believe my sexy sister just stared at my dick. Already so excited that she looked down at my cock, but more unbelievable that she didn't just look at it, but stared at my it, I couldn't believe my cock was her focus of attention.
With her staring at my cock for as long and as hard as she did, does she want me, as much as I want her? Take it in your hand, I thought. Stroke me. Get down on your knees and take me in your mouth and blow me. With her staring at my cock, looking at it, as if it was something of interest she discovered in the forest, I was even more excited by her focused stare, that is, until I was ashamed over what she asked me next.
"Were you masturbating over me?" Not even waiting for me to answer, not even allowing me to enjoy the possible, albeit ridiculous thought that she was flattered and excited that I'd masturbate over her, her response burst my bubble. "Gross," she said giving me a look of incredibility.
"Sorry," I said with my head still down.
She gave me the same look of incredibility that my mother gave me, when she finally caught me spying on her, after removing her bathing suit and standing in her bedroom naked, before opening her closet door to find me standing there with cock in hand. For years, I had been spying on my mother in the same way that I was now spying on my sister. Remembering my Mom's naked body, as if I had watched her undressed yesterday, instead of years ago, Susan had the same exact body as did Mom, except for having breasts that were a little larger, shapelier, and higher up, of course, than Mom's breasts. A masturbation machine back then, I couldn't even take a guess at how very many times that I masturbated over watching my mother dress and undress.
"Wrong on so many different levels," said Susan continuing her tirade to interrupt the naked vision that I had of my mother. "It's incredible to me that my own brother, would not only peep at me undressing but also would masturbate over my naked body. Gross, that's so gross, Tommy. What's wrong with you?"
Too focused on her nakedness to hear her or to care about her indignity, I couldn't remove my stare from her beautiful body. Pushing my luck, after having already seen her in all manners of dress and undress so very many times before, if only she knew how many times I spied on her throughout our lives, while growing up and living together, I wondered what she'd think of me then. It was only recently that I came up with what I thought was a foolproof plan of hiding in her closet, as I did with my mother. Then, as soon as she was in the shower, just as I had done so many times before, I'd return to my bedroom and she'd never know that I was there watching her strip naked.
Thinking with my penis, instead of with my head, I should have known that, eventually, I'd be caught. I didn't figure that I'd sneeze, while masturbating, before having the chance to ejaculate my lust for her in a handful of tissue and before she disappeared in the shower and I returned to my room. Yet, in hindsight, subconsciously, no doubt, wanting to be caught, now that I was caught, I needed to know if she felt as strongly about me, as I did about her.
With nothing left to lose, having already embarrassed myself and humiliated her, having already temporarily lost my mind with lust for my big sister, I continued making a perverted fool of myself by my incestuous lunacy. With her catching me before I finished masturbating, and with my erect cock still throbbing and sticking straight out from my pants, I was as horny, as I was sexually frustrated. There before my eyes, my naked sister, the reason for my horniness and sexual frustration, in an act of insane desperation, having already crossed the incestuous line by spying on her undressing, I continued forward in forbidden territory in the hopes that she'd respond. I reached out for her and, with an arm around her waist, pulled her naked body to me. With one excited hand reaching down to cup her sweet, round ass and the head of my exposed cock touching her soft belly, I felt her big, firm breast with my other hand.
"Tommy, stop! Don't do this," she said in a quiet and controlled panic, while looking down at my hand and watching me finger her nipple.
Was she enjoying being touched by me, as much as I was enjoying feeling her or was she shocked and ashamed and just placating me? I didn't know. I couldn't tell. So wanting to suck her big tits, it was nearly as exciting to watch her watching me touch her, as it was to see her staring down at my erect prick. However she felt, I only knew how sexually excited I felt. My dream come true, I was finally experiencing my sexual fantasy in holding my naked sister in my arms.
Her breast felt so big and so firm in my hand and as soon as I fingered her nipple, it hardened. I so wanted to lean down to suck her nipple, but not wanting to go too fast too soon, not wanting to startle her and frighten her any more, in the way that I had, when she discovered me hiding in her closet and in the way of coming across a reindeer in the forest, I needed to take things slower. Encouraged by her not pushing me away, if she didn't want me to touch her, why is she watching me touching her? If she wasn't excited by my touch, why did her nipple become erect, when I touched it with my finger? If she didn't want me to touch her, why didn't she slap my face? Is she as excited as I am? Hoping that she was, unable to tell, I didn't know. Does she want me as much as I want her? Hoping that she did, I continued my sexual exploration of my sister's naked body.
"I love you, Susan," I said leaning my lips to her lips, while moving my hand from her breast to cup her blonde, trimmed pussy.
After feeling my sister's breast and fingering her nipple, I couldn't believe that I had her pussy in the palm of my hand. When I kissed her, just a light kiss, in the way of a brother kissing his sister, she shocked me, when she returned my kiss. After I kissed her, feeling her fear, sensing her trepidation, apprehension, and reluctance to, no doubt, continue forward down the Devil's darkly forbidden and dangerous road of incest, she was so stiffly motionless, in the way that we remained as silently still, when coming across a black bear in the woods. Nonetheless, taking the return of my kiss as encouragement and the green light that I needed to continue, I kissed and kissed her, while touching her and feeling her everywhere.
Then, taking the next step, when I stuck my tongue in her mouth, I thought she'd reject me but she didn't. She surprised me, when she willingly opened her mouth, accepted my tongue inside, and allowed me to probe her opened mouth with my tongue. She even closed he eyes in anticipation of my French kiss, only, when she didn't completely surrender her tongue or even move her tongue, I knew I had gone too far. Hoping to change her mind by getting her excited and more in the mood, I gently and slowly rubbed her clit with my finger and, when I did, instead of pulling away, she gasped and allowed me to gently rub her more. Already moist, I exerted a bit more downward pressure on her bean, while rubbing her a little harder and a bit faster. Then, when I slid my finger closer to her opening and felt her wet warmth, I tried entering her with my finger, but she resisted my passion by pushing back on my shoulders.
"Tommy, no. Don't. I'm your sister. This is wrong. This is incest. We can't do this. This is something we'd regret the rest of our lives," she said with a look of shame. "With you seeing me naked and me seeing your cock, even though I'm tempted, I can't. I just can't," she said taking a step back to release my hold of her.
"Don't you want me?"
I stepped forward to put my arms around her again. With one hand remaining motionless on her ass and my other hand cupping her pussy again, even though she recoiled before, she made no attempt to squirm from my grasp now, nor did she make any attempt to encourage me. Still, nonetheless encouraged by her lack of resistance, I continued feeling her softly ass and gently fingering her pussy.
"I do want you, Tommy, but not in a sexual way," she said with sad softness that turned to a look of disappointment.
"Don't you love me?" When all that I wanted to do was to give her pleasure, her look of displeasure made me feel sadly perverted.
I felt and squeezed more of her ass, while moving my index finger to gently and slowly massage her clit, before moving my hand up to cup her breast and finger her nipple. A sexual dream come true, standing there feeling up my naked sister for the first time is something that I will never forget for the rest of my life. Whenever masturbating and thinking of Susan, I'll always remember this first time holding her, kissing her, touching her, and feeling her.
"Of course, I love you, Tommy, but not in the way you need and want me to love you," she said talking to me, while watching me touch her and feel her in places, where no brother should ever touch and feel his sister.
As if I was a patient in a mental institution and she was the doctor in charge, as if I had just taken over the institution and, after stripping her naked, was holding her hostage, no doubt, not wanting to make matters worse, she calmly spoke to me in her unsuccessful attempt to quell my lust for her. If I was sexually attracted enough to peep on my sister undressing, if I was excited enough to masturbate over my naked sister, my excitement grew exponentially, when holding and feeling her naked body. The more she talked to me, while she stood there naked and I stood there with my erection pressed up against her soft belly, the more that I wanted her. No quelling my lust for her now, the longer that I felt her ass, fingered her pussy, and felt her breasts and nipples, the more excited I became.
"Don't you ever think of me, Susan?"
Unable to stop myself from touching her, feeling her, and fondling her, I caressed and groped her breast, while feeling the sheer weight of big tit in my palm. She had such great boobs, perfectly symmetrical in every way and the fact that I was standing there holding her, while feeling her naked breasts, and staring at her nakedness was a sexual fantasy come true. Hoping to convince her to have sex with me, in the way that she, no doubt, hoped that I'd allow her to get dressed, misreading my sister's kind and gentle spirit, I felt that this standoff could go either way. Hoping she'd allow me to have my wicked way with her sexy body, just this once, as her way to quell my incestuous desire for her, I somehow knew she wouldn't. A pivotal turning point of what could be a new and wonderful, mutually fulfilling and sexually satisfying relationship, after having waited so long to touch her, I didn't want to let her go.
"I think of you all the time, Tommy, but only in the way that a sister would think of her brother," she said squirming away from my touch again, when my finger fingered her nipple again.
Suddenly appearing ashamed and taking a step back to cover her breasts with her hands, she looked embarrassed that her nipples hardened to my touch. Was I getting to her? Was she getting excited? Did she suddenly want me as much as I've always wanted her?
"Just answer me these questions. Be honest. Tell me. When alone in your room masturbating, have you ever thought of having sex with me? Have you ever imagined sucking my cock? Have you ever thought of making love to me? Have you ever wished I was there licking your pussy, before making love to you?"
"Tommy, how dare you? If this is just some sick way for you to feed your incestuous perversion for me, I won't have this conversation with you," she said looking at me, as if I was deranged and, no doubt, I was. "I'm your sister and you're my brother. I'll never be your lover. Having sex is a line we should never cross and it's disturbing for you to even question me about my sexual wants, needs, and desires. That's just getting too inappropriately personal," she said looking down at my cock again, when my stiff erection pulsated and continued poking her soft belly. "Please cover yourself," she said taking a step back.
She still covered her breasts with her hands, but with her ass and pussy still so exposed, she seemed not ashamed or embarrassed that she was still naked from the waist down. If only I was a few inches shorter and she was a few inches taller, instead of rubbing up against her belly, my cock would have found a familiar warm, wet place between her legs. Putting my hands to her ass, I'd love to fuck her standing, while pushing her up against her bedroom wall. Bending her at the waist, I'd love to fuck her from behind, doggie style, while fondling her big breasts and fingering her hard nipples.
"Touch me, Susan," I said taking a step back and holding out my still stiff cock for her to see how big and hard I was for her, before taking two steps forward to offer it to her hand.
I watched her eyes look down at my erection again. As much as it excited me to see her standing there naked, it excited me even more, when she looked at my cock. I couldn't believed she looked and stared at my cock, again, more than once. If she didn't want me, why would she even look at my cock? If she didn't want me, why didn't she get dressed?
Hoping to coerce her to change her mind by giving her a gentle nudge, when she looked down at my prick again, I grabbed her hand and put it on my hard prick and wrapped her stiff, motionless fingers around my erection. Needing to cum, I so wanted my sister to finish where I had left off, when she discovered me hiding in her closet. Placing my hand over her hand, I slowly and gently moved her hand back and forth in a forced hand job, as if I was a horny teenager in the backseat of a car with his Prom date. If only she'd stroke me, I'd be such a happy man to finally receive a hand job from my sister. If only she'd masturbate me, perhaps my sexual lust for her would subside and my incestuous lust and sexual assault of my sister would have ended there, but she didn't masturbate me and my twisted desire for her escalated. If only my sexy sister would fall to her knees and take my cock in her beautiful mouth, my sexual fantasy come true, I'd be the happiest brother on earth.
"Tommy, no, I'm sorry, but I can't do this," she said pulling her hand away from my grasp and away from my prick. "You're my baby brother and I can't touch you in that inappropriate way. I'm horny, too, Tommy, but not for you. Sex between us is wrong. We can't give one another the sexual gratification that we obviously both so need. Always so wrapped up in my work, admittedly, it's been a long while, since I've had sex," she confessed with tears welling up in her eyes, as if they were my dark clouds to my blue skies. "I have sexual needs, too, but not for you. Not for my brother. I'm sorry, Tommy. I'm so sorry."
Accustomed to a woman saying no, when in a bar with her girlfriends, and then turning into a sexual animal, once removed from the jealous judgmental stares of her friends, being twisted enough in my lustful desire for her that I was unable to correctly read her, I wanted to believe that my sister wanted me too and was just playing hard to get. I thought of all the times she flashed me a down blouse view of her bra clad breasts, while she stooped over something in the woods. Was she teasing me or was she so focused on her work that she didn't know she was so exposed? How could she not know she was flashing me? She must have known that I've been peering down her open blouse.
Always so sexually frustrated every day, I thought of all the times that I masturbated over all that I saw of her. What did she mean, when she said that we both needed sexual gratification? She just admitted that she was horny, too. Was that a hint for me not to stop, but to continue? Was she horny enough to have sex with me? Was she lusting over me in the way that I was lusting over her? Never wanting to regret not taking advantage of this situation, after having waited for this opportunity for years, I needed to know, if she'd go all the way with me or not.
Only, obviously not interested in sexually satisfying me, pushing me away, she was suddenly as combative, as I was deranged. Everything changed in an instant. Maybe it was her standing there naked, maybe it was me touching her, maybe it was her touching me, but whatever it was, in the same irreversible way of pulling a fire alarm, as if an incestuous button had been pushed deep within me, there was just no turning back. In a desperate and despicable move, twisted enough to truly believe that she wanted to blow me, as much as I wanted her to blow me, with a hard downward push on her shoulders, I forced her to her knees. Then, with a quick hard pull of her long, beautiful hair, wanting to do this for years, when she opened her mouth to scream, I stuffed her mouth with all the lust I've had for her.
With my hard, hairy prick in my sister's mouth, all that I had imagined and more, having fantasized about Susan blowing me for so long, my big, hard, cock felt so good in her warm, wet mouth. Forcing my sister to suck me, I could feel her wet tongue trying to avoid my stiff prick. With a strong hand to each side of her head, as if her head was a box with a hole in the middle, slowly rocking my hips back and forth and my prick in and out of her mouth, I slowly humped her head. Then, when suddenly feeling the excitement that I needed to feel, with a strong, forceful hand to the back of her pretty, blonde head, I fucked her face harder and faster. Using my sister's mouth as a glory hole, with me doing all the work, feeling the tension of her full lips sliding up and down the length of my hard cock, it didn't take me long to cum in her mouth.
Cumming and cumming, as if the cum welled up from my feet, from having lusted over my sister for so long, never have I cummed as much. I couldn't believe how much cum I exploded in her beautiful mouth. Finally, thinking that I was done, when I pulled my cock from her mouth, I exploded more cum, a second load, across her pretty face, in her hair, and down her beautiful breasts. Only, as soon as I ejaculated, as if I was a vandal destroying an artist's masterpiece by ruining it with stringy, white strokes of indelible paint, I looked down at my sister covered in my cum. Realizing the wrong I had done to her, already sickened with remorse, I was sorry that I had forced her to blow me. What I could clearly see now that I couldn't see before, the guilt that I suddenly felt was greater than the pleasure that I had just received.
"Oh, my God. What have I done? Susan, please forgive me. I'm so very sorry."
After having watched her strip naked for years and never acting upon my sexual impulses to do more, in an act of incestuous lunacy, as if what I just did was part of my surreal, sexual fantasy, what was once a beautiful loving brother and sister family and working relationship in the field of environmental ecology and conservationism was now ruined. What have I done? If only I hadn't sneezed, she never would have caught me in her closet. If only I hadn't been so attracted to my sister, I never would have been hiding in her closet in the first place to watch her dress and undress. If only I hadn't kissed her, touched her, felt her, exposed my cock to her, and forced her to blow me, none of this would have happened.
As if she was a lifeless rag doll, as if I had shot her with a gun, I watched her collapse to the carpet. Forced to look at all that I did to my beloved sister, she had evidence of my lust everywhere, across her face, dripping from her lips, sliding down her chin, and collecting on her breasts. As if she had just been raped and, no doubt, she was, looking off in a vacant stare, she had an empty expression on her face. I remembered the look. She had the same expression now that she had, when our parents were killed in a car accident five years before, the reason why we were living together again now
"I'm sorry, Susan. I'm so sorry. What have I done? Please forgive me," I said sobbing, while repeating myself, as if I had been a bad child.
Resting on her side in the fetal position, looking as if she was about to suck her thumb, when I reached down for her, she recoiled.
"Don't touch me. Don't you ever touch me again, Tommy. Go! Just go. Take your things and just go. I want you out of this house and out of my life. For you to do what you just did to me, you are no longer my brother," she screamed with tears streaming down her face, while wiping my cum from her face with the back of her hand. "I don't want to see you ever again."
With her lying there so helpless and naked, unable to understand her anger. So twisted and deceived by my incestuous lust for her, I truly thought she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I truly thought she was teasing me and flashing me, when we were in the woods and her blouse was always unbuttoned enough to give me a down blouse view of her bra and cleavage. Maybe as my justification to do what I had done, I suspected she knew that I routinely watched her dress and undress but, obviously, she didn't. How could she not know that I was always watching her get naked, after all of these years watching her? A matter of trust, she trusted me not to peep on her but, now gone way beyond, I broke that bond of trust.
Nonetheless, in a silent fit of rage, I was tempted to continue what I had started. With the Devil influencing my thoughts and with her already naked, maybe I should fuck her. Always wanting to know what it would feel like to be inside my sister, maybe I should do her now. Now that I forced her to blow me, what difference would it make if I fucked her, too? Then, I thought, what if I made her pregnant? Not wanting to make matters between us any worse than it already was, not wanting to escalate this sexual assault into a police matter, maybe if I left now, she'd find it in her heart to understand and to forgive me one day. Still, with her lying there on the carpet so exposed, as if taunting me, tempting me, daring me to make love to her and really fuck her, it took all the self-control that I had to leave her lying there so naked and vulnerable.
That was the last time I saw my sister, after she threw me out of the house, three years ago. As if my pent up, incestuous lust for my sister invited the Devil in my life, I disrupted the karma of good and invited in evil. Realizing now that it was all my fault and not her fault, I wished I could take the spying, the peeping, and the incestuous lusting all back. I wished I could correct the wrongs that I had done to her. Wishing I had never forced her to blow me, after that one forced blowjob received from my sister, my life was never the same and a lot has happened since then.
With the help of a good therapist and dozens of private and group therapy sessions, I don't sexually fantasize over my sister, while masturbating, any more. Just as I blame myself for my sister never wanting to have anything to do with me, of course, still consumed with guilt and perhaps a stretch, having opened my life to evil, instead of good, ridiculous, of course, but I even blame myself for my parents fatal car accident, too. Had they still been alive, I wondered if she'd tell them how I violated her trust. Suspecting that she wouldn't and never would tell them, before even forcing my sister to blow me, sometimes unable to look my parents in the eye, especially my mother, after having spied on her, too, the guilt of invading my sister's privacy by watching her undress for years before, invaded my heart, as if it was a satanical knife. Believing whatever happened from something so horribly bad was my fault, maybe had I not lusted over my mother and my sister for as long as I can remember, maybe if I had led a better life and been more Godly and brotherly, maybe my parents would still be alive today. I don't know. Whatever the consequences of my actions, I was ready to shoulder the blame.
Then, while working alone in the rainforest, with me no longer there to protect her, my sister was brutally attacked and raped. What comes around goes around and, with me being no different than the man who raped her, the guilt from the rape of my sister weighed heavily upon my shoulders. Sustaining a severe head injury, when she tried to run to escape her attacker, she fell from a 30' cliff, hit her head, and her attacker left her for dead and, nearly, she was. Lucky she wasn't dead, unconscious and naked, fortunately, she was found by a group of hikers. Fortunately for her, she doesn't remember a thing. Fortunately for everyone, they caught the man who did this, when he tried attacking another woman, a cross country runner, in the same area, who just so happened to be an off-duty, female police officer. An expert in Judo, giving him the beating of his miserable life that he so deserved, she beat the crap out of him, when he jumped her from behind. I can only imagine the shocked surprise on his face, when she flipped him, pinned him to the group, and beat him senseless.
A small town crime report buried in the back of the local newspaper, I wouldn't have known what happened to Susan had my friend Dan, a rural police officer in the next county, not called me. Moving away and living on the other side of the country, when I asked him for the gory details, instead of telling me over the phone, Dan faxed me a copy of the attacker's confession. Had I read this confession before my psychological therapy, in the way that I did over the violent details of newscaster Lara Logan being stripped naked and sexually assault by two hundred Egyptian men, I would have been sexually excited and masturbated over the tragic details of the rapist attacking my sister. Fortunately for me, since my therapy, I learned that sexual assault and rape are not sexual crimes but violent acts. Glad that Dan shared the rapist's confession with me, what my sister survived was a real eye opener to what I did to her by abusing her trust in peeping on her, sexually assaulting her by groping her, and raping her by forcing her to blow me. With tears streaming down my face, feeling responsible for her attack, with me not there to help her with her environmental and conservational research, and protect her, while she was working, I read the confession with deep suffering sorrow and gut wrenching sadness.
Confession:
I saw her through the trees and I looked around to see if she was alone or with anyone else. She was alone. I couldn't believe that a woman this beautiful would be alone in this dense part of the forest. Someone who looks like her should always have a man accompanying her to keep people like me away from her. I'll tell you right now, if that was my girlfriend, sister, or mother, I'd never allow her to be in the woods alone.
Hoping she'd continue further away from the main path, she surprised me when she created her own path and walked deeper in the forest, a place where even I had never been before. Not wanting her to know I was there stalking her, I maintained my distance and, ducking behind trees, I even lost sight of her for a while. Then, afraid I was going to get lost, I was about to turn back, when I saw her squatting down over something and writing in her notebook.
"I have a knife," I said, when I grabbed a handful of her long, blonde hair.
When she turned to look up at me, I was taken by her beauty. Expecting her to scream, she surprised me, when she didn't even struggle. Every woman I ever attacked struggled and screamed. With me not being a big man, every woman I attacked fought me.
"Do with me, whatever you want," she said, "so long as you don't hurt me and leave me in peace to do my work. Just don't take my notebook. All my research notes that support my papers are there," she said more concerned about her damn notebook than about safety and about herself.
"Take off your clothes," I said, now figuring she'd scream, make a run for it, or fight.
"Do you want me to remove all of my clothes or just my jeans and panties?"
Saying that so matter-of-factly, surprised me. She said that, as if she had been raped before or as if it didn't much matter, if I raped her, so long as I didn't hurt her and left without taking her damn notebook.
"All of them," I said, since she was asking. "I'd like to see and feel your titties, after I fuck you and while you're sucking me," I said, surprised she was so cooperative, too cooperative.
"Okay," she said.
Okay? This is bullshit. Now suspecting she may be a cop and this was a police sting, I was wary of her. With everything working so easy, too easy, something just wasn't right. Only, every time I looked around for the men in blue to appear to arrest me, there was no one there but us. Feeling better, when she stripped naked, figuring no cop would remove all of her clothes, it was obvious that she wasn't wearing a badge, a gun, or a wire.
As if it was a surreal dream, I couldn't believe the conversation we were having. Never have I raped a woman, who cooperated. Never have I raped a woman who didn't resist or scream. Figuring if she was a cop, but knowing she'd never remove all of her clothes, if she was a cop, I felt relieved, when she stripped naked.
Quickly, I pulled down my sweatpants and poked one of my sneakered feet out of the pant hole, while watching her remove and blouse, bra, sneakers, jeans, and panties, and carefully folding everything in a pile on a rock. For obvious reasons, I don't wear underwear, and wearing oversized sweatpants allows me to remove one leg from my pants without having to remove my sneaker. Wearing tight jeans or removing anymore of my clothes would delay my escape should anyone happen upon me.
"You have a nice body, lady," I said.
"Thank you, but don't you want to know my name?"
"Nah, no names, lady," I said with a laugh.
"I'm Susan," she said sticking out her hand. "What should I call you?"
"Anything you want, lady," I said looking around, while watching for anyone coming through the trees.
"I'll call you Tommy, then," she said somehow looking smugly satisfied with that name choice.
"Tommy? Yeah, sure, whatever, lady," I said figuring maybe it was her fantasy to have sex with some guy named Tommy.
"Do you want me lying down or bent over?"
Lying down or bent over? Wow, what gives? She shocked me by giving me a choice.
"Lying down," I said wetting her pussy by licking and inserting my fingers inside of her first, before mounting her, as soon as she got on the ground.
To be honest, even though she was the prettiest woman I've ever seen and having the best body that I ever had sex with, it wasn't any fun with her cooperating like that. Sort of like having sex with my sister, it would have been hotter, if she fought and struggled. It would have been hotter, if I had to strip her naked and slap her around a little bit. Still, even though she didn't return my humps and passion, she was a good lay, nice and tight, just the way that I like my women to be. Everything was okay, until she willingly opened her mouth, took me inside, and she started sucking me. Then, as soon as I exploded my load of cum in her mouth, she started screaming.
"Tommy! Tommy! Tommy!"
She kept screaming for this guy Tommy, whoever the fuck he is. Panicked, I figured any second, some big dude named Tommy was going to come running through the forest. Yet, when no one came, I relaxed, until she started screaming again.
"Tommy! Tommy! Tommy!"
"Quiet lady," I said. "What the fuck? Someone will hear you, but she continued screaming, even after I slapped her across the face.
"Tommy! Tommy! Tommy!"
Figuring she wasn't calling for me, I don't know who Tommy was, but I wasn't going to stick around to find out.
"C'mon," I said, trying to calm her down, not sure where I was and figuring she knew better than me where we were. "I'll walk back with you the other way, until we hit the main path. Then, you go your way and I'll go my way."
Only, instead of walking with me, she took off the other way through the dense brush running through the woods naked and screaming.
"Tommy! Tommy! Tommy!"
I didn't know about her falling off a cliff, until seeing it on the news that night and reading about that in the newspaper the next day. Had I stayed away from those woods, the cops never would have caught me. Had I not attacked that cross country runner, some kind of butch dyke, martial arts Judo expert, who turned out to be a cop, I wouldn't be sitting here today in jail and writing this damn confession.
# # #
Wiping the tears from my eyes, feeling my sister's horror, I put the confession down and held my head in my hands, before reading the doctor's report detailing her injuries.
Doctor's Report:
Lucky to be alive, her life altering injuries damaged the part of her brain that holds her long-term memories. With her short-term memories intact, but with her brain permanently damaged, she may regain some small measure of her previous memories, but it's highly unlikely. There has been some progress made with new drug therapy just coming to market and with her being so young and so healthy, she may be a good candidate for that kind of drug therapy but, because the drug therapy is new and not fully tested in the marketplace, it's considered experimental by health insurance companies. Consequently, not paid for by most medical insurances, prescriptions for the drug are very expensive.