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My thanksgiving tradition was not to sit at home with my family and eat turkey and stuffing and then lay around watching TV all night. That’s because I have no family, other than my 26 year old sister, Alana. Our parents were only children, and we lost them years ago. So for a significant part of our lives, it has been just Alana and I.
It might have been lonely if not for Style, my late mom’s friend who also owned a small beauty salon. Style was a committed bachelorette, as were many of her friends and employees. And Style didn’t have much more family than Alana and I did. So each year Style threw a big Thanksgiving party for all those people she knew who might otherwise be alone. Alana and I had gone every year since our parents died, and this year was to be no different.
Except this year it felt different, at least to me. Though I had no aunt, Style seemed as close as I’d get, and particularly in those early years after the accident, she was almost a mother figure to us, helping in every possible way. For that reason I felt nervous about facing her this year–and I knew exactly what triggered my anxiety.
It was because Alana and I had been intimate. To say the least.
As I prepared for the evening out, I could tell from Alana’s withdrawn attitude and silence that the same thing was bothering her.
We lived together in the house my parents left us. I had the upstairs of the house, which was great for any 18 year old guy, and Alana had the basement. We didn’t have to run into each other at all if we didn’t want to, yet we both ended up in the upper floor bathroom. Alana had always said my bathroom had the best light, but she still used it rarely, so I was suspicious of her being up here. We crowded the small bathroom, looking over each other’s shoulders for better looks at the mirror and ducking and reaching to use the sink.
Alana was, for once, ready ahead of me. She had on some nice slacks and a very dressy top. She looked good, and her hair was perfect–she’d just had it done at Style’s place earlier in the morning. Now Alana was just adding her make-up, something she rarely used except for special occasions. In fact, I think this was the first or maybe second time I’d seen her with make-up since Style’s party last year.
I had my dress pants on and an old t-shirt, but I was less than half ready. Though Style was the laid back type in many ways, this party was an exception. Everyone always dressed up, not overdoing it, but looking nice. The rest of my outfit was on a hanger behind the open bathroom door. As nice as my sister looked, I couldn’t help but notice that, for the first time, I was going to be more dressed up than she was.
I looked at my watch while I shaved with my other hand. We were running late. I felt like, though I intended to hurry, I was moving in slow motion. It was because I wanted to say something to break the tension in the room, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, nor did I have the right words. I could tell, somehow, that Alana was having the same problem.
I had been obsessing about my sister for months now. And finally we had done it. Really done it. We’d fucked. Alana had sucked me, let me inside her body, and savored my seed. I had tasted her and filled her. We had made love.
It had happened more than once, but the last time was different. Unlike our other brief flings, starting on a flight to Las Vegas, this last event was more like a beginning to something than an end, and we both felt it. After wanting each other for so long and not letting it happen, we finally seemed to be in sync. We were ready to give in.
But, with the holidays here, something was tainting us. This was a season of family time, and it reminded me who Alana really was. It made me wonder about how my parents would feel about the terrible things we’d done with each other. I feared their judgment, but worse, I feared what Style would think, since she was the best representation of a parent either of us had, and that fact hadn’t hit me until recently. And Style could always tell. Whatever it was you were keeping from her, somehow, she would know.
For months I had wanted nothing more than to have my sister as my lover, and here, when that was closer to reality than ever, I was having second thoughts. Not because I didn’t want it to work, but because I didn’t think it could work. Fucking your sibling was one thing. But getting away with it was another. I feared the consequences of our relationship if this thing really took off.
God, we were late. And that would only make Style give us more attention. We had to hurry up. I finished shaving and took off my t-shirt.
“I think we need to talk,” Alana said. My heart stopped, but somehow I kept moving as if nothing was amiss. So did she, fixing her lashes like this was going to be a normal conversation.
“I’m okay with what I did with you,” she said. “I want you to know that. And…all those times I acted like I didn’t want…that to happen…well, I did.”
“I know,” I esenyurt escort said, just because I felt that I needed to say something.
She turned to me and looked me in the eye, her face was a mask, unreadable.
“I loved being with you Gavin, and I love you. But…I think you know we….we’d never get away with it.”
She turned back to the mirror and her make-up, not wanting to believe her own words. I didn’t want to believe them either, even though I had been trying to say the same words to her for too long now. She was right. Even if we didn’t get caught, being in a secretive, sexual relationship would hurt our social and professional lives. We’d be paranoid, closed off, and eventually we would fight. But as brother and sister we couldn’t exactly break-up. It was a tragedy waiting to happen.
“I think we’ll be okay if we just accept what we did, and leave it at that. We were never really together, so it should be easy.”
She didn’t sound convinced, though again she was right. Our moments together were never really just about the two of us. There was always someone there, or just around the corner. The thrill of having sex with a sibling added with the thrill of doing it around a stranger overshadowed the simple pleasure of just being together and sharing each other. We had never really taken that step, which now looked like a good thing, because it made it easier to back away.
“That is exactly what I’ve been trying to stay for the last hour,” I told her. “I just…”
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” she stated more than asked. When I nodded as I threw my tie around my neck and began tying it, she continued. “Which is exactly why we need to stop now. For the past few days I felt like we needed to do it. You know, get together. But it never was something that I wanted. I don’t know if that makes sense…”
“It does, in some strange way,” I said.
“I’ll be right back.”
She left, and I stood there thinking about what had been said, trying to see how I really felt about it. This was exactly what I’d wanted. Though being with my sister would be the best thing that could happen to me, if it wasn’t possible, then a nice clean break-up was the best I could hope for. I should have been thrilled, and I was. But I wasn’t satisfied, either.
I finished with my tie and threw on my jacket, then made a few adjustments here and there; making sure my hair was right, adding cologne.
And then Alana was back, her outfit completely changed.
“I saw you were wearing a jacket and tie,” she explained. “I didn’t want to look so casual.”
I might have said it didn’t matter, and that she could wear whatever she was comfortable with, but again I couldn’t speak.
My sister is a beautiful woman. She looks young, but not immature, with adorable facial features and big blue eyes. She has a soft, smooth, but athletic body, with only ounces of fat to fill out her curves, her perfect ass, and her mouthwatering, d-cup breasts. If she wasn’t so shy, she wouldn’t have trouble finding a man to beg to please her every night of her life. If she asked for it, she would have it.
But she rarely dressed up, and so seeing her now was like a blow to my entire nervous system. She had put on a tight white cocktail dress I’d never seen before, which showed off her long legs and proudly displayed her cleavage, yet made her look not at all trampy. Very classy. And with her eyes darkened by the eyeliner she almost never wore, Alana looked to me, for the first time, mysterious. Like she was someone else, yet undeniably herself. Her perfume pulled me in, made me dizzy, but not because it was too strong. She fussed with her hair in the mirror as I stood behind her, watching, awestruck.
After a minute of this I made myself snap out of it and I caught her eye. She wasn’t studying her hair at all, but me! Even minutes after our agreement, she had already caught me leering. But I couldn’t help it. She was absolutely breathtaking. All those times before I saw Alana as beautiful and sexy, but I never felt as strongly as I did at that moment.
Of course, it was only physical. What more could there be?
We stared into each other’s eyes through the reflection of the mirror for a long time. Until it became very uncomfortable. And then we just kept staring, not knowing what to say or do. I considered that Alana might be seeing me just as I was seeing her–I rarely dressed up, either. In fact, since this whole affair of ours had began, this is the first time we looked like real adults, dressed up and professional…and we had done it together, as if on a date.
Alana turned to me. “I…”
But she stopped and walked out. We knew we had to be going.
It hurt to watch the delicate swing of her ass as she walked those silky legs in high heels through the house toward the kitchen. And when she looked over her shoulder at me and caught me looking, again, she answered only by exaggerating her step…or istanbul escort was that my imagination? What was going on?
In the kitchen, Alana grabbed her purse on the table and began going through it, looking for something. In those seconds, my mind flashed to dozens of images and experiences that were burned in my memory: her thick, pink nipples between my fingers; tasting her cunt and sucking her clit; feeling her warm mouth around me, then her body; her pussy walls sucking me; her smoldering hot ass as I pumped myself into it; kissing her…kissing my sister as deeply as any lover I’d ever had.
When I snapped out of it, my erection was at full strength, but that was the only part of me that had moved. Alana found what she was looking for–car keys–and then looked up to me, opening her mouth no doubt to say something like “Ready to go?”
But when she saw me she stopped. She didn’t have to. As much as I was obsessing about her at that moment, I knew I wasn’t that transparent. She didn’t know. Couldn’t. But she fell under the same spell I had. And, just like in the bathroom through the mirror, we stared each other down.
I could hear her unsteady breathing as sure as she could hear mine. I watched her eyes glaze over and her lips puff up ever so slightly.
We moved together slowly and kissed slowly, but with each swirl of our tongues, we drove deeper and deeper, faster and faster. I put my arms around her and held her. She put hers around me. I pushed my hard-on up against her body, and she pushed back. I felt her big nipples harden against my chest.
“Alana,” I gasped. “I love you…”
“Oh God,” she gasped back.
This was it.
We knew we had to stop. We kissed once more, let our tongue drag over each other’s lips, and then broke away. But our embrace held. With our heads over each other’s shoulders, we panted as though we were in the throes of making love, even though all we were doing was standing there, holding each other as closely and tightly as possible. It was all we could do to resist kissing again. Or more. And so that was what we concentrated on. Resisting.
We worked up a sweat just standing there…resisting.
After a long while our breathing had almost returned to normal. We had been holding each other so tightly that our arms and even legs were shaking. So we let go. But our hug had been stopping us from going forward, so when we let go, the passion came back like an unstoppable flood.
We kissed, but that was no longer enough, and we both knew it. I kicked a chair out from the kitchen table so hard that it hit the cabinets and the backrest broke right off. But we didn’t care. I pulled the top of Alana’s dress down and her thick, milky breasts popped free. I grabbed one of them in my greedy hand, then pried my lips from hers and ducked down to mash my face in her full, soft chest. I licked at her almost with rage, but with equal emotion Alana grabbed my head and pulled me back up to kiss me.
She kicked off her heels, then took one of her feet off the floor and wrapped her leg around me. I slipped my hands down, took hold of her ass through the dress, then bunched up the dress until I could get my fingers under it and grab her ass directly. She wasn’t wearing panties, so all I felt was soft, hot, smooth skin. I squeezed her flesh, my fingers digging into her tight, warm crack. Our tongues attacked the whole time; a wet, increasingly sloppy kiss that allowed me to taste the salivating hunger she had for me, and which I gave back to her. I felt the weight of her body when she lifted her second leg off the floor to wrap it around me with the other one.
Despite my strength and her comparably smaller size, when Alana jumped up on me like that, I lost my balance. I aimed to lay her out on the table, but my straining dick refused to lose contact with her crotch. So we fell awkwardly, rolling off the edge of the table, tripping over another chair, and finally slamming me back-first into a wall, knocking over a picture I hit with my shoulder.
Hearing the glass of the picture break sent a surge of heat through me, and I used newfound strength to lift Alana up until her tits were in my face and the rock hard nipples on my tongue. I lost balance again in my lust, though, and just as quickly fell forward, retaining just enough control to drop her roughly but safely onto the floor. She landed on her butt, yet she didn’t make a sound of pain. Instead she made a gasping, desperate growl and reached for my crotch. Minds thinking alike, I was already unfastening myself and positioning my body over her, still standing. I looked down and watched her attack my pants and belt with me, her mouth prematurely open and gasping for what was to come.
My pants were tugged down just enough to let my cock spring free, and instantly Alana’s hand was around my base, and her head moved forward, her mouth wide, starving for my body.
And then the phone rang, a sound as loud and piercing beylikdüzü escort as any sound could be. The first ring scared both us half to death, and we froze for an instant. But I was still ready to be sucked, and Alana was quickly on her way to do it to me. But then the second ring came, and though I only hesitated then in my head, Alana did so with her body. I knew what she was thinking: Style was calling us. Wondering what was keeping her favorite brother and sister pair.
My God, I thought. Could we really do this? I wanted to so badly. My throbbing cock, with a thick bead of pre-cum already at it’s tip, was beyond desperate for my sister’s mouth. And I could see and feel the conflict in Alana as she sat before me, hand still on my base, eyes on my oozing cockhead, lips still parted wide and gasps still issuing from deep within her, but all of this frozen in indecision. Like me, her body said yes, her mind said no, and each side was making so strong a case that everything was on pause.
I could feel her deep, hot breaths huffing against my dick and swollen balls. She moved closer, intensifying the sensation. I grabbed her by the head with both hands, not sure if I was doing it to push her away or pull her onto me. So for that moment I just held her, and she resisted, but without trying to go either way. We were at the truest of crossroads, and we had no idea which path to take.
I felt and heard my heart pounding. I squeezed my fingers into her soft, beautifully done hair. Her hand released my shaft, but slid around my thigh and to my clenched, naked ass. She squeezed me, but didn’t push me to her. She flicked out her wet tongue at me, missing on purpose, even though the move itself was involuntary.
“Oh God,” she panted.
The phone stopped ringing.
What happened next seemed to violate the laws of physics, but it happened. Alana tried pulling me away with her hand squeezing my ass, and I tried to push her head further from me, but somehow we came slowly, unwillingly, yet insistently together. I forced my big erection into my sister’s wide open mouth, and she made a weak though audible groan of protest, but as soon as my flesh was inside her she was sucking with a need and energy that weakened my knees.
She didn’t bob at first, and I wasn’t sure if that was because of her, or because I held her head tightly in place, not wanting to go further than we already had, but not able to relinquish her either. But still Alana sucked the half-length of my cock that I’d given her, and between swirling fits with her tongue, she talked with her mouth full like that, not really to me, but not just to herself, either.
“We -an’t -o -his,” were the first garbled words she managed. But then there came “I- -ot suppose– -o -uck my –other’s -ig -ock. I- -ot suppose– -o -ike it. You, you– -y -other. My –other! Oh -od I -ove you! -od, I -ove you- fa- -ock.”
Her own words spurred Alana on, and she started to bob on me, really sucking, but she quickly pulled herself off me, grabbed my dick with her hand, then hugged herself to it, pushing her face against my erection. It was then that I noticed she had tears streaming from her eyes.
“What’s wrong with us?” she gently sobbed. “Why I can’t I stop?” She rubbed my dick, wet with spit and tears and pre-cum, back and forth over her face, licking it each time it passed by her lips. “God I fucking love this cock, Gavin. I want it so bad. I want it in me. I want you in me. My little brother. You’re my own little brother and I want to suck you and swallow you and taste you more than anything in the world!” she cried.
Then she stuffed my cock back into her mouth and sucked me hard before talking with her mouthful again. “-ell -e -o –op!” she sobbed around me. Not satisfied that her words were clear enough, she pulled off my dick and repeated, looking me straight in the eye with the red, teary, beautiful eyes of her own. “Tell me to stop! Please tell me this is wrong!”
“It’s…it is wrong,” I managed.
The tears came faster now. “Oh no,” she cried, still looking at me. “Oh no…Why?” She was nearly in hysterics by now, but her face was still pressed against my hard dick. Her hand cupped my balls. “Cause I’m your brother!” I gasped out, and I pushed her back onto me at that very instant. And she took me eagerly, moaning crazily, bobbing and slurping me faster and harder than before.
“I can’t do this to you,” I said, even as my hands helped guide her head as I fucked her face. “I can’t do this to my…my sister.”
Alana responded only with desperate, feminine grunts each time my dick stroked in to the back of her throat, which happened more and more frequently as I speeded up my thrusts. But it was a mutual attack, for her mouth fucked me with at least as much excitement as I plunged into her. We had reached a very fast, even pace in no time, with my balls slapping up against her chin and her throat issuing wet, involuntary sounds as she threatened to gag herself on me, when Alana finally pulled off me.
“Gavin! Gavin, we have to stop,” she said, out of breath, thick strings of spit and pre-cum dangling from her mouth and connecting to my pole. But then she allowed herself a glance at my slick, red, throbbing meat again, and she gasped “Oh my God”, my dick stuffed back in her mouth even as she said “God”.
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