Sister and Brother Grow Up Ch. 02

So after that crazy drunken night at home, that night I exposed myself completely to my brother and sucked his dick and stroked him until he came, my brother freaked out. I began to freak out, too, feeling a sense of shame for being such a slut. That's the word for it. That's exactly how I felt. Like a slut. My brother went off on his backpacking trip before we ever had a chance to talk about what happened. He pretended like it didn't happen, and I went along with it. I didn't see him again that summer, and I went back to California for college. At the end of the summer, my brother went to a college nearby but we didn't see each other until we flew home together for Christmas.

I changed that semester. I threw myself into my studies. I didn't party. I didn't date. I volunteered for everything. I felt I had done something very wrong that I could never take back. I felt that I had ruined the most important relationship I ever had. And more and more I realized how much my brother meant to me. How much I cared for him. It didn't take me long before I understood the depth of how much I loved him and how much I wanted him to love me. I didn't want to date anyone. I only wanted my brother. It was shocking to me to feel that. It made me feel like a slut, and so I resolved that I would be chaste and pure, so I could love him without being a slut. No one would ever know my secret love. I became obsessed with the thought. The more I guarded myself, the more I thought of him as my lover even though I knew it would never be true. I didn't want those other boys. I wanted him. I'd lie awake at night and wonder about him.

So you can imagine how unbearable it was that the first time I saw him again we were sitting next to each other on a plane for hours. I was so nervous. My brother, on the other hand, seemed more than happy to see me and was very sweet to me. He talked about his semester. He even touched upon that summer by talking about his backpacking trip. Our parents met us at the airport and drove us home.

There we were again, in that bedroom, unpacking in silence. It terrified me to be there. My brother started avoiding me. Whatever sweetness there was between us on the plane dissipated once we walked into that house. How would we manage the next 12 days?

The next day, I met an old friend of mine at a restaurant downtown for lunch. I hadn't seen her since long before I started college. She had gotten married. Well, first she had gotten pregnant, and then she married her baby's daddy. She was happy. It wasn't a tragedy at all for her to have married so young and she certainly adored her baby. She asked me if I ever thought of having a baby, and I said I had thought about it but not recently. I didn't think I was in a hurry to have children.

Later that night, with my brother sleeping downstairs, I lay awake in my bed upstairs and began to wonder if I ever would have babies. Afterall, the only man I wanted to love was my brother. I had dedicated my life to loving him, even if it meant I would have no lover at all. It followed, then, that I would never have children. I hadn't considered that before, and it didn't seem to be a reasonable alternative.

The days passed but nothing changed. Every night I lay awake in my bed staring at the ceiling, wondering how I could live like this forever. I couldn't, could I? Why couldn't I?

Then one night in the middle of the night, I awoke. Someone was in the room. I opened my eyes. It was my brother. He placed his hand gently over my mouth and said, "shh." I didn't move. I didn't make a sound.

"I figured it out, sis. I know what we both want," he whispered. He was standing next to me, bending over me to whisper into my ear. I wanted to tell him what I wanted. I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to make me have a baby in my belly.

"Shh. I know," he said. He undid my nightgown, slipped it away from me without a sound. I lie there without moving. I was naked. I covered my breasts with my arms. My brother slipped out of his clothes. He removed my arms from my breasts, and I could feel his gaze on me. He parted my legs and climbed onto the bed between my legs. He bent over to kiss me on the cheek, and then he took each of my nipples into his mouth. I shivered. I could feel him guiding his dickhead to the entrance of my vagina. He threw a blanket over us, just as he pushed himself slowly inside me.

Oh, it felt so good to have my brother this way, inside me. I wrapped my arms around him. We kissed.

"How could you know?" I whispered.

"I just did," he whispered back, slowly fucking me.

It was delicious. My whole body felt consumed by him. I relished every thrust inside me.

"Don't stop," I whispered.

"I won't." He continued to fuck me slowly. We kissed again and again.

"I want you to come inside me," I said. "I want you to make a baby."

We both became quiet, but our breathing became heavier. The fucking became stronger. He filled me up more. He seemed to be bigger. He seemed to be going deeper. And I couldn't fucking believe how intensely I could feel him. I never felt so free. I never felt so open. I never felt so loved. I gave into every thrust of my brother, quietly, completely.

"Oh, God," I said. I could feel him throbbing, about to burst. He drove into me as deep as one could.

"Yes," I said. "I want you to come inside me now. I want to have your baby."

"I want it, too," he cried. "I want you."

And then he became tense and rigid inside me and I could feel his sperm start to gush inside me in waves of spasms that shook me to my core and created wave after wave inside me as I tightened my legs around him and took him in, drinking his mouth into mine as my womanhood sucked my beloved brother's manhood inside. We lay locked like that, every sense of mine buzzing and tingling, everything else swirling around in a haze.