Jennifer Needs Her Sis

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Hot blonde hooks up with long-lost sister.
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My name is Jennifer and I live in Minneapolis. My family and I moved here when I was small, and at 29, I'm still here, even though they've long since moved back to Michigan. My parents and I are not close. I live an independent life. I'm not sure, but I think that threatens them. It's as if they view my insistence on taking life as I will to be s a rejection of them. Maybe it is.

For the most part, I've not been that troubled by the distance between me and my parents. But my sister was another story. Lisa is 31, and as kids we had the kind of love/hate relationship typical of sisters so close in age. I realize now how insufferable it must have been for her to grow up with me. I was a self-absorbed princess. I was very headstrong in those days, and I thought the sun and stars shined to light my path. Trouble is, they kinda did. I was always more attractive than Lisa. Not that she was ugly, or average. Her skin is darker than my nearly translucent paleness, and her hips, though small, are fuller than my wisp of a figure. During high school and college, I always received more attention than Lisa. I know that must have hurt her, especially since she, like me, had an indifferent relationship with our parents.

Since those days, I regretted how I treated Lisa when we were growing up. And in recent years, I'd come to miss the loving relationship we never had. I made a few attempts to bring us closer together, like inviting her to stay with me at Christmas. But she always rejected my entreaties. After a while, I reconciled myself to the idea we'd never be close. As I got older, the hole caused by her absence grew.

But I was good at pushing such melancholy thoughts to the back of my mind. I had a great job with a big financial services company in Minneapolis, a job that enabled me to pursue my passion for new people and places. I don't think three months have gone by in the past seven years that I didn't make a trip to Europe. A lot of times, to be honest, it was in pursuit of sex. With my blonde hair and dancer's body, it was never hard to find anonymous sex on a train in Italy, or a hiking cabin in the Alps, or after an evening roaming the cafes of Paris. I craved sex, especially sex with strangers. I recall once I was in Milan, sitting in a coffee shop, when a gorgeous young Italian guy started chatting me up. His English was terrible, but he had the black hair and athletic body I love. We didn't need words to communicate, and within 25 minutes I was at his apartment with his cock in my mouth. I didn't care, either, when his girlfriend walked in on us. I fucked them both. She tasted so creamy, especially with his cum dripping out of her pussy. We fucked all afternoon. I wish I could have stayed the night with them. It would have been so luscious to be sandwiched between their fine young bodies, kissing her while being fucked by him in the ass. But, alas, I had a train to Rome I had to catch.

I was never good at maintaining long-term relationships. Instead, I was always trying to fill an emptiness. All I knew was that the experience of attraction, seduction, and finally submission was addictive. I thought the next cock or next pussy might be the one to satisfy me. But it never did. Instead, I'd wake up the next morning feeling more empty than the night before. As my twenties passed by, I longed more and more for my sister's love.

Imagine then my excitement when Lisa called last June to say she wanted to come visit me in Minneapolis. I knew she was going through some hard times in her marriage to Gregory, a shallow hunk of an investment banker. I remember hanging up the phone after she called, her sweet voice in my ear, and thinking this could be our chance to mend our relationship. The intervening week seemed to last for months, as I anticipated Lisa's visit. After work I bought all sorts of things to make my apartment more welcoming. And at night I developed a list of all the things we could do together. The anticipation was killing me, but it was thrilling, too.

The Sunday of Lisa's arrival finally came, and I was up with the sun, scurrying about the house making last-minute adjustments. I was dressed and ready to meet her flight three hours before she arrived. Only a walk around Lake of the Isles calmed my nerves.

On my way to the airport I bought her a small bouquet of flowers I hoped would help bridge the distance I feared between us. But as soon as I saw her, I knew the flowers weren't necessary. There she was, beautiful in her jeans and simple pullover. More than that, I immediately recognized a softness and vulnerability to her than I'd not known before. She was thinner than I recalled her being, and in her eyes there was a soulfulness, even sadness, that I'd not seen before. She was adorable. From the first moment of our reunion, adore her is what I did. I quickly raced to greet her, and wrapped my arms around her and hugged her like I've never hugged anyone in my life. All I could say to her was how happy I was she was there. And I knew she felt the same way when she returned my hug, and my kiss.

Things unwound slowly that night back at my apartment. After making us dinner, I opened a bottle of wine, and we talked through the evening about everything. Our parents. Our childhood. Her marriage. It all felt so wonderfully natural. As the night wore on, Lisa placed her head on my lap, and I stroked her dark hair lovingly and looked into her eyes, eyes so much like my own. At that moment I couldn't help crying about the years we'd lost. But mostly they were tears of joy as the most intense feelings of love and connection overcame me.

Deep into the night, as we both felt drained by the day's emotions, I bent my face towards her and gave her the lightest kisses, first on her cheeks, then her soft lips. Nothing more than a brush, really. She tasted so sweet. As we rose to go to bed, I insisted that she sleep in my bed with me. My small one bedroom apartment only had one bed, after all, and I wasn't about to let Lisa sleep on the couch. Besides, I didn't want our physical closeness to end. Lisa agreed, and I could sense she was happy I'd insisted.

It is my habit to sleep nude, and as soon as we got into my bedroom, I immediately began to strip. As I did, I could feel Lisa's eyes on my body. It excited me. And yet it was different than the excitement I felt during my desperate fucks in the capitols of Europe. There, I was fixated on sex and the release I thought it would bring. This night, I was fixated on my beautiful sister, and the all-consuming love I felt for her. When she took off her clothes and climbed into my bed, lifting the covers to grant me unrestricted access to her body, it was simplicity itself.

I slid next to her and nuzzled my face into the sweet intersection of her neck and shoulder. I held her slight body against mine. Never had I felt such warmth, such softness.

To turn off the light, I had to reach over her body to the night stand on her side of the bed. I suppose I could have asked her to turn off the light, but I wanted to drag my naked body against hers as I reached across her. I wanted to feel her, to kiss her. To taste her. To love her with my hands, lips and mouth. Pausing in my return, I placed my hand on her cheek and told her I loved her. She said she loved me back.

Then the unexpected happen. Slowly I began kissing her cheeks, then her neck, then her ear. Very slowly, never quite using my tongue. I was lying on top of her, our naked bodies pressed together. The situation could not have been more erotic, yet I tried to act like this was normal sisterly affection. Gradually I felt her hands start to stroke my skin. First my back, then the sides of my legs. My excitement was like a pain I would not have stopped for the world. My kisses became more assertive, more passionate. My lips worked their way from her neck to her lips, and soon my tongue was gently probing my sweet sister's mouth. It turned me on to be making out with my sister. It especially did it for me that I was the aggressor. Instead of engaging my tongue, she simply opened her mouth, allowing me to lovingly explore inside. I've always found this act incredibly erotic. By simply opening her mouth and letting me enter, Lisa was telling me she was ready to submit.

By now, I was grinding myself into Lisa's mound. How long I'd been doing that, I couldn't know. There was no longer any time. Only Lisa, her mouth, her skin, her pussy, her love. Lisa must have felt the same way because I soon felt her little hands move from my legs to my ass, stroking it, lovingly at first, then with greater urgency and passion.

"Lisa, I love you so much, and I've missed you," I cried in between the moments when my tongue was down her throat.

"Jennifer, I love you too!," Lisa responded, her voice breathy as her lust for my tight body began to consume her. "I've wanted to tell you that for so long. And now I can. I love you, Jennifer! I love you and never want to live without you again. Please take me however you want. I need you."

Those words did more to fill my empty heart than all the cocks I'd sucked and all the cum I'd swallowed in all my travels. My mind raced to thoughts of Lisa and me living in a cozy little apartment, fucking each other every night, kissing each other every morning.

My lust for my sister burst, and suddenly my hands were all over her body. I pinched her hard little nipples, and licked each of them lovingly. I kissed her flat little tummy, and licked the inside of her thighs. Slowly my tongue caressed her pussy lips. It thrilled me to taste her juices, and to know it was me, her sister Jennifer, that had made her so wet. As I felt her hips grind into my face, my tongue probed deeper, fully tasting her pussy. Occasionally I could her Lisa whisper, "Don't ever stop, Jennifer. Ever." And with those words of love I kept on loving her, tasting her pussy, teasing her clit. I sensed her climax nearing, and after ten more seconds of sucking on her clit, Lisa came all over my face, grinding her pussy all over me as her love for me exploded.

I was so happy. For a few minutes I lapped at her clit like a kitty, lovingly and gently. Eventually, I kissed my way up her tummy and neck to her lips. Once there, I inserted my tongue deep in her mouth. For the next thirty minutes we kissed, with Lisa licking every bit of her juice from my face. What an erotic, romantic experience, to share your lover's sex with them. With men, I loved to french kiss them after they'd cum in my mouth. The thought of sharing their cum with them turned me on incredibly. With Lisa it was a thousand times hotter. To feel her pretty little pink tongue licking her girl cum off my face not only turned me on. It made me fall even more hopelessly in love with her.

Later that night, Lisa returned the favor, using her fingers and tongue to bring me to the best cum I'd ever had. Needless to say, we spent the rest of the week like two lovebirds, kissing, touching, whispering "I love you" to each other. But as the week wore on, love gave way to animal lust. One night we made out like lust-filled teenagers in the balcony of the Uptown Theater, my tongue down Lisa's throat, my hand up her skirt, my fingers occasionally coming up to feed her the juice from her love-soaked cunt. I think the young couple in the seats behind us may have figured out we were sisters. But by that time I was too far gone to care. The only things in the world were Lisa's mouth, her neck, her breasts, her skin, her pussy. For the first time I knew what love meant. At work, I daydreamed about cupping her cute ass in my hands while she pressed her body on me, kissing me, our nipples crushing into each other.

What made my lust for Lisa become all-consuming, however, was the way our sex fed into personality traits neither of us really knew we had. After that first night of fucking, Lisa became completely submissive during our lovemaking. Perhaps it was her realization that she had yielded to this taboo, but whatever it was, she longed for me to do whatever I wanted with her. Conversely, her submissiveness brought out my dominant side. Again, I think the thought that we had already broken the biggest sexual taboo unleashed all my sexual energy, and aggression. That week I used Lisa's body as a sexual playground, trying things I'd never dreamed of trying with anybody before, man or woman. For example, as we'd go for walks late at night around the lakes, I would take Lisa behind a tree, unzip my pants, and force her to eat my pussy until I came all over her loving face. Later, back at home, I'd lay naked on the bed, put my little ass in the air and have Lisa tongue my ass while I played with my clit. Later, I'd fuck her asshole with my tongue. Then I'd kiss her deep on the mouth, forcing her to taste her sweet ass from my tongue. As always, Lisa opened her mouth wide and let me push my tongue down as far I wanted. Her total submission fueled my perversions.

Lisa finally packed her bags and went home. But after that week, we spoke on the phone every night, and six months later she left Gregory and came to live with me in our cozy apartment. It's filled with love, and every morning as I see her lying next to me, soft and naked, my mouth retraces its path to the love between her legs. With each week, my lust grows. Now when we go to the theater, I never wear panties, knowing that half way through the film I will grab Lisa's hair, force her head into my lap, and grind my cunt all over eager face. I love the sound of her lapping my pussy, especially in a public place. I know that soon, I am going to bring other people into our bedroom. It turns me on to think of some hot black guy fucking Lisa from behind while her face is buried between my legs. What turns me on even more is the thought of him pulling out his big black cock and shooting his hot white cream all over our little angel's face. When that happens, I'll be sure to tell you all about it.

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