Moving In

Things had been rough between my wife Sadie and I for a long time. As an executive at a fast-growing financial company, my schedule was very demanding, and she resented the attention I'd given to my career. She was a jealous woman, and even though I'd never even think about cheating on her, she began to think of my work as if it were a mistress.

On the day of our 10-year anniversary, she told me she wanted a divorce. I wasn't surprised. I guess I'd seen it coming. Still, hearing it devastated me. I'd tried to work things out with her, but she wanted me to give up the career I'd worked so hard to build, and I just wasn't willing to do that to feed her jealous.

That night, I packed up some things and called my younger sister Vera and asked if I could crash at her apartment for a few days until I figured things out. She knew things had been rough between me and my wife for a while, and she said "Of course! Come on over!" She lived on the other side of town, and we really hadn't seen each other much for the past year or so.

I should explain that my sister is almost my complete opposite: I'm conservative, disciplined, and hard-working, while she's creative, whimsical, and free-spirited. She worked in sales, and was very successful because of her bubbly personality, but she had no responsibilities or obligations in the world, and spent most of her money splurging on vacations, alcohol, and perhaps I suspected even drugs.

She was a short, plump, chubby girl with blonde hair and glasses, but with her charm and vivaciousness she never had trouble finding a boyfriend when she wanted one, despite her weight. She rocked what she had.

We sometimes got into arguments over our various lifestyle differences, but the truth is, I was looking forward to spending some time with her. After such a sad, difficult few years, I felt like I could use a little creative chaos like she could provide.

I drove across town and showed up at her apartment with a hastily-packed bag of clothes and personal items.

Vera opened the door wearing her silly Hello Kitty pink pajamas and holding a big glass of wine. "Sorry to hear about Sadie," she said. "Come on in. I hope you don't mind, I already started drinking. We're getting wasted tonight. You deserve it."

I laughed, and put my bags down. "Yeah, I guess I do."

She put her glass down and gave me a big hug. I immediately felt guilty because I couldn't help but think of how great her big tits felt squeezing against me. Sadie was all but flat-chested, which isn't necessarily bad in itself, but when you haven't had something for a long time it sure feels nice when you finally feel it.

I put my things away at her apartment, and we spent the evening drinking cheap wine and laying on her sofa watching cable. It got late, and she shows became increasingly racy. Finally, in the middle of a violent sex scene, I mumbled, "It's super awkward that I'm watching this with my sister, you know."

She laughed and poured herself another glass. "Totally, but who cares? We're both adults, so there's no point in pretending we don't both love watching sexy people fuck, you know?"

"Yeah," I said. "I guess so."

"Look at her," she said, nodding toward the TV. "Those legs and that ass. Damn she's hot. I wish I could have her body."

"You seem to do already with the one you have," I said. "You always seem to have a boyfriend around!"

"Nah, not recently. I was actually in a relationship with the same guy for the last 8 months, but I found out he was cheating and got rid of him a couple weeks ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine. I needed a break from men anyway. I need some time to think about what I want, you know?"

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, " I said.

We went back to watching TV on the sofa, with Vera sitting sideways and resting her feet on my lap, a feeling strangely reminiscent of that long night so many years ago.

I slept on the sofa that night-or at least tried to. I'd managed to put fantasies about Vera out of my mind many years ago, but after having gone so long without sex with my wife, and then the frustration of breaking up, and then spending time with Vera tonight, some of those old taboo fantasies returned to my mind and took hold.

The next day, Vera left for work, but I took the day off. I needed time to think, and I was in no emotional state to go into work myself. I sat and watched more TV, drank a little wine, and eventually went to go check my email on the computer in her bedroom.

Now, I would normally never do something like this, but the wine was making me a little reckless, and curiosity got the better of me. I opened up Vera's browser history.

I saw she'd looked up some movies and other random stuff, but then I noticed some links to porn videos she'd looked at late last night. Incest porn. Brother and sister porn.

My heart pounded in my chest. Was she thinking the same kinds of things I'd been fighting all these years?

I looked further and found an incest fantasy blog she'd been reading. I looked at the most recent entry she'd read: "Oh my god, you guys, my brother split with his wife and is staying in my apartment. This is going to drive me crazy. I diddled myself three times last night thinking about him."

Oh shit. She hadn't just been reading it. She'd actually written it. This was her blog!

I scrolled down and looked at every entry she'd ever posted. Most were photos or videos, but some were occasional comments about her "sexy professional brother" and the things she wanted to do to me.

I couldn't believe it. I was stunned.

I erased my tracks, closed the browser, and turned off the computer. This was insane. Sure, we apparently had the same kink, but we definitely couldn't do anything about it. Still, knowing that she had the same terrible secret I did seemed to make me feel a closer bond with her.

She came home from work that afternoon, and we ate Chinese takeout for dinner. She took a quick shower afterward, and came out of the bathtub wearing a fluffy black bathrobe that highlighted her pale skin. She looked fantastic, and I couldn't help but wonder what she looked like under the bathrobe. I wanted to see those curves, see what her nipples looked like, see what kind of ass she had. I couldn't stop thinking about her.

We sat down on the sofa with some wine again, and she laid sideways with her legs on my lap again. This time, I had to be careful where I looked, since she was only in her bathrobe.

That night we watched a vampire movie with some seriously wild sex scenes in it, and we laughed about it. But then, late into the evening, I recognized an unmistakable smell.

"Holy shit," I said, "you must really be enjoying this movie."

She looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I can smell you. I can smell how turned on you are."

She immediately blushed and covered her face. "Oh my god," she said, giggling nervously.

I laughed and patted her knee. "Don't worry about it. No judgment zone here, right?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so embarrassed about that."

"Don't be. That's a great smell. It means good things are happening, right?"

She laughed again. "Yeah, I guess so."

I didn't move my hand. I just left it there on her knee. I don't even remember what happened in the rest of the movie, because the only thing that existed in my mind was her leg on my lap. Every time she moved her leg a little, it sent a thrill down my spine.

Finally, toward the end of the movie, she said, "I had a leg cramp last night. Would you mind massaging it for me? It's my right leg."

Like I was going to pass that up.

I reached over and started rubbing her calf. She'd shaved her legs when she'd showered, and they were silky smooth. And while chubby girls don't necessarily get much credit in society at large, I'd been married to a skinny woman for so long that I loved how plump my sister's legs felt.

"Um...up higher," she said.

I moved my hands up and began rubbing around her knee.

She closed her eyes and wiggled around to get my comfortable laying on the sofa. "Higher, actually," she said softly.

I hesitated. Was this really happening?

I slid my hands up her leg to her mid-thigh, just where her bathrobe ended, and began rubbing.

She moaned softly. "Yeah, that's it," she said. "Keep doing that. Yeah, like that..."

And then I smelled it again. She was getting wet while I lay here rubbing her thigh.

We did that for a few minutes, which she spent laying on her back, eyes closed, sighing, moaning, and encouraging me. She spread her legs slightly as I continued massaging.

Finally, curiosity got the better of me, and I looked down under her bathrobe, and there it was. Her pussy, glistening slightly, and accompanied by a big bush of blonde hair.

I took a deep breath in through my nose, taking in her scent. It was incredible. It was...intoxicating.

I moved my hands up her leg, continuing to massage her. She didn't resist at all. In fact, she opened her legs wider. Finally, I gave up the pretense of a massage and moved my hand over to her pussy, rubbing it gently. She opened her mouth wide, but didn't open her eyes. Her chest heaved as she breathed hard.

I rubbed her clit slowly with my thumb, then moved it down and slipped it a bit inside her. She pushed her hips toward me, and it went further inside her. She was soaking wet inside.

Then she spread her legs wide open, and I understood that she was completely mine. The dark fantasy I'd been wrestling with for 20 years was happening. Right now.

And I made a decision that can never be undone.

I got off the sofa and onto my knees on the floor, and turned around to face her. I grabbed her hips and turned them toward me, and pushed up her bathrobe.

Then I buried my face in her pussy, shoving my tongue deep inside her. She immediately cried out "Yeah!" in a voice that sounded like she might break down in tears at any moment, then reached down and grabbed my hair, pulling me into her and she ground her wet pussy lips against my face.

With the noises she was making, I had no doubt her neighbors were listening. I'd never wanted to give a woman sexual pleasure more than I did right now. I wanted to give her everything she'd ever wanted. She was more than just a woman, more than someone I cared about...she was family.

I grabbed her pulled her around so she was sitting upright on the sofa, facing me. Her eyes were still closed, and she had tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.

"Look at me," I said as I unbuckled my pants and pulled my cock out.

She opened her eyes, and I got closer, pressing the head of my cock against her pussy. I leaned in toward her face, and she looked down at my mouth, now covered in her juice. She was breathing hard, and I felt her warm, wine-scented breath against my face.

I pulled her bathrobe open and looked at her pale, plump body. To me, at that moment, she was the most gloriously beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life. I loved every ripple and curve on her body, and was excited to finally see her naked after all these years.

"We can't do this," she said.

"I know," I said. "This is insane. We can't do it."

She shook her head. "We can't...we can't..."

I leaned into her, my rock-hard dick sliding inside of her as my mouth met her lips, and we kissed as passionately as if we were the first and last lovers on earth.

We fucked hard that night, until she finally erupted into a screaming orgasm, her legs clenched around me and her fingernails digging into my back. And at that very moment, I let loose inside her, pumping an incredible load. I'd never had an orgasm like that in my life.

Then I took her back into her bedroom-our bedroom-and we started all over again. We couldn't keep our hands off each other that night. There were moments after each orgasm where we'd feel shame and regret, and we talked about how we had to stop, and about how we couldn't possibly do this again. But then that thought turned us on all over again, and we got increasingly vigorous. She made me cum six times that night. I didn't even know that was possible.

A few weeks later, my wife Sadie texted me to say she felt bad, and that she wanted me to come back and see if we could work things out.

"Sorry," I texted her back. "I've found someone else."