Sister, a Friend, a Lover, and Wife

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.