A Shared Sibling Fantasy

Despite my having just turned eighteen and so finally being able to drink legally, it wasn't even eleven o'clock when I came home that Friday evening. The pubs in town had all been quiet; presumably most people weren't up for a night out on the evening before Princess Diana's funeral?

I walked into the lounge to find my elder sister Sarah sprawled on the couch; she was notionally studying ahead of her return to university in a couple of weeks time, but mainly listening to music on her Sony Discman and didn't even notice my arrival. Sarah was made-up to the nines and dressed like a slut; nothing unusual there, that was often Sarah's chosen escape from the restrictions under which we both lived

Our father was an Anglican Bishop and while neither he nor our mother overtly laid any of that on Sarah and I, there had always been an unspoken expectation that we dressed and behaved... conservatively. I won't say that I didn't get involved in any hi-jinks and capers with my friends, but I was never the one to start the ball rolling and they looked to me -- on occasion quite literally -- to be the one to call a halt before we got ourselves into any serious trouble. I've no doubt that Sarah found the same.

Still, it did give me the opportunity to enjoy the view: Other than our father's height -- Sarah's remains a good two inches taller than me -- she's the spitting image of our Lebanese mother: Athletically-Slim, olive skinned, ink-black hair & eyes, with cheekbones that you could cut yourself on. Sarah's hot with a capital H and sister or not, I'd been perving on her for as long as I could remember; Sarah had caught me doing so often enough for it to be no secret.

That night was no exception, Sarah's green camisole crop-top barely covered her pert tits and her flat belly not at all; I saw her navel was pierced, that was something new. With the three lowest buttons of her short, button-fronted, denim skirt unfastened, I was presented with a glorious view of Sarah's thighs and even a glimpse of the white panties she wore beneath. I was so engrossed that I didn't catch the moment when my presence registered with Sarah.

"Enjoying the view Andy; burning it into your mind ahead of tonight's wank-fest?" My colour was already rising before Sarah added: "I'd better fit a lock on my laundry basket before you go upstairs and borrow any more of my bras or pants to jack-off into."

My embarrassment was now complete, I must've turned as red as a beetroot. It was no secret between us that I'd peered around partially open bedroom and bathroom doors for years to catch glimpses of Sarah naked; I even suspected that there were times when said doors had deliberately been left ajar to tease me. But the underwear thing... I didn't realise that Sarah had known about that.

Sarah burst into laughter at my discomfiture at this revelation before continuing -- I was beyond speech! - "So, if you're still getting horny from eyeing-up your sister, I'm guessing that you haven't got laid while you were out this evening; little Andy's still a virgin..." I was still bright red from Sarah's earlier quip, so things didn't get any worse. "... Why didn't you take yourself down Green Lane? You'd have got laid there for £50, or for less than you likely spent in the pub, you could at least have got one of the hookers to show you something to fuel tonight's wank-fest."

Sarah was rolling around laughing again when I finally found my voice: "And why would I spend money on looking at the old tarts down there, when I can come home and ogle one here for free?"

That put an end to Sarah's laughter... well, curbed it slightly, as the conversation rapidly descended into the usual circle of good humoured name calling and insults that we'd traded for years, soon followed by the inevitable fight. To my childhood rage and more latterly shame, it'd only been over the previous couple of years that I'd finally been able to win those wrestling matches with my sister.

I won this latest tousle easily; in hindsight, perhaps too easily? Within only a minute or so I'd had Sarah pinned to the floor, with her hands pulled high above her head as I sat astride her knees, with both of us gasping to recover our breaths. Sarah, as ever was the first to speak: "Well, given the circumstances and especially with that erection waving in my face, I'd perhaps better apologise?"

Looking down I was as hard as a nail and creating a very obvious tent in the front of my trousers. The embarrassment was coming back and in an effort to at least say something I enquired "What circumstances?"

Sarah's adopted a teasing smile as she replied: "A vulnerable young woman, alone in an isolated house and knowing that her parents won't be home until the morning; a man could do anything he liked to her... use her like one of those whores on Green Lane and nobody would hear her screams."

"Then in the morning; when her parents came home?"

Sarah's smile turned wicked: "Why, she'd be far too embarrassed to tell them, or indeed anyone else; just imagine the headlines 'Bishop's Daughter Raped!'. No, she'd keep it a secret... forever."

I've no idea how long the silence... and stillness, lasted; but once again it was Sarah who finally broke the spell; she began to squirm and wriggle beneath me, begging for release and pleading for me not to hurt her. My grip on her wrists had eased during that silent hiatus, but Sarah still seemed unable to break free; even when my left hand released them -- though my right one did tighten a little -- Sarah remained... feeble, in her escape efforts; this was unusual though not inexplicable, that wicked smile along with the sparkle of excitement that had by then entered her eyes provided an answer which even someone as naive as myself could interpret.

My free hand settled onto my Sarah's warm belly, circling gently across the soft skin -- how often had I envisaged doing just that? -- while she writhed beneath me and pleaded for me to '"Behave... Stop that right now... I'm not that sort of girl... let me go Andy... I'm your sister for God's sake!" Sarah's words and tone were very believable, but both were undermined by her persisting smile, those sparkling-eyes and the half-heartedness of her struggles.

"Too late bitch... dress like a slut and you'll get used like one." My left hand slid upward beneath Sarah's silky top and didn't falter when it met her lacy bra, I hooked a thumb beneath that and dragged it up and roughly over her tits. That drew a yelp, but not necessarily one of distress, an opinion confirmed when my hand slid back to firmly cup Sarah's right breast and roll the nipple between my fingers; Sarah's gasp was one of pleasure, while her next squirm pressed that soft orb harder against my hand rather than attempting to retreat from it. Sarah was inflamed and I guess I was no better.

I released Sarah's boob for just long enough to scrabble back to the hem of her camisole top and drag it roughly upward; perhaps too roughly as I heard the fabric tear, though neither of us commented on that. I was certainly beyond caring, I just wanted to set eyes on Sarah's tits! I'd glimpsed them often enough over the years, but this would be up close and personal, something that I'd long dreamt of.

Sarah's tits didn't disappoint: Not 'big' by any stretch of the imagination, but they were firm and beautifully shaped, the size of two half-grapefruits each capped with a pert nipple, the size and hardness of a peanut, both those and the surrounding areola were of a brown so dark as to appear almost black; more especially so once each had been moistened by the first pass of my lips and tongue.

My mouth and fingers feasted on Sarah's boobs for what seemed like hours, they were gorgeous, everything I'd ever imagined and while Sarah continued to struggle both physically and verbally against my attentions, those struggles were never sufficient to dislodge me and her foul mouthed invective was too often interspersed with moans, squeals and gasps of delight, not to mention one or two whispers of "oh yes, harder" and an "fuck yes, just like that".

Had I remained working on Sarah's tits she might've soon capitulated completely, but as my hand strayed lower, back across her stomach and beyond, I couldn't fail to sense her body tensing and in the moment it reached the paler skin of her thigh and began to head back north, Sarah's struggling redoubled and she all but screamed "No! No more; you can't... you're my brother!"

I faltered, had I just looked into Sarah's eyes I perhaps might have stopped? But then I took in the rest: While Sarah was pitching and bucking beneath me, her hands remained straight out above her head, though the grasp with which I still 'restrained' them was minimal. Similarly, I was now barely sat on her legs, having risen onto my knees to better reach her boobs, but while Sarah's legs twisted and thrashed beneath me, none of those writhings succeeded in closing her legs, if anything they drifted further apart as my hand advanced.

My fingers arrived at Sarah's panties to find them wet; I don't mean damp, they were absolutely soaking! What better reassurance of consent could she have provided? As with my assault on Sarah's boobs, I struck whilst the iron was hot -- and mine certainly was! -- jerking her panties aside and driving my hand directly into her crotch; two fingers plunged into Sarah's pussy and despite the advanced notice provided by her panties, I was still gobsmacked by how easily and deeply they penetrated, Sarah was so wet I was half-expecting the sound of a splash!

I certainly wouldn't have heard it. Sarah's response to my violation was a snarled "No! Stop it you filthy bastard; you beast, how could you... your own sister!" in tandem with an aggressive thrust of her hips which rather than retreating from my invading fingers served only to drive them even harder into her receptive snatch. Talk about mixed messages : ).

Beyond that initial penetration I did little more, gazing open mouthed as Sarah continued voicing her foul mouthed dissent, while twisting and grinding herself against my invading fingers; the outcome was inevitable and not long in arriving; Sarah's whole body went as taut as a bowstring, her hips and arse held inches from the floor with my fingers still deep inside her as she announced her orgasm with a keening wail that made me glad our house was so isolated.

As Sarah dropped exhausted back to the floor, I wasted no time in stripping off my pants and boxers, pushing her legs apart and shuffling between them; I was concerned that having achieved her orgasm, Sarah might consider our 'game' to be over. While I'd dreamt of it a thousand times -- with probably a hundred of those times imagining Sarah! -- I'd never had sex, Andy's virginity might've been a joke for my sister, but it was no joke to me, so there was no way that I wasn't getting laid tonight; if in that moment Sarah had said 'No', I suspect I really would have raped her.

When I began to thrust my cock inexpertly between Sarah's thighs, I feared that was going to be the case, those hands for so long stretched above her head -- I hadn't been holding them there for ages -- suddenly dropped to press against my chest as Sarah screamed "No! Wait; stop it Andy!" I complied, but gathered my breath for the struggle to come.

I needn't have worried, a glance into Sarah's face was met by a warm smile, whereafter her hands slid lower, the left one gently grasping my erect cock and steering it through the soft folds of her labia as she whispered "Now Andy, push it in gently." A moment later, half my cock was inside a woman for the first time; it was warm, wet and unbelievably soft... a world beyond my own right hand. Easing back then pressing forward once more saw my whole length disappear into the depths of Sarah's accommodating channel

The gasp and groan of pleasure that accompanied my penetration were ones that I and Sarah shared equally. Sarah's hands now returned to that spot above her head and she took one of mine with her, making it clear that she wanted hers pinning to the floor once again and only when that was achieved did the fireworks begin:

Sarah jerked beneath me, initially driving my cock deeper, but then almost bucking me off her. In the same instant her hands tried to jerk free from mine, again, caught by surprise I nearly lost my hold on her thumbs; Sarah's scream arrived a second later, followed by her wailed protests: "No!, Stop.. you animal! I'm a virgin... I'm your sister! You can't do this to me... you're raping me Andy! Stop... oh God, please stop!"

Throughout that diatribe Sarah's pelvis twisted and rolled, the motion certainly didn't aid her escape, but it did quite beautifully - for me... and I suspect herself too - grind my cock into the very depths of her pussy. By then I'd finally got with the programme; a partial withdrawal followed by a savage re-entry sank me deep into Sarah's yielding pussy, her gasp of acceptance being drowned out by my snarl:

"Too late bitch... your cunt's mine!" The expression on Sarah's face suggested that I'd pitched things just right, so I continued in the same vein -- withdraw, pause then slam my whole length back inside her, narrating each thrust with a with either a roar of conquest or a foul-mouthed slight; it was barbaric, but Sarah clearly revelled in the assault.

It couldn't and sadly didn't last long; I'd like to think I held on for a minute, but it certainly wasn't two... Give a guy a break, it was my first time, the girl was drop-dead gorgeous and my sister to boot! Only in the moment when I felt my climax boiling-up did I give any consideration to contraception, the word 'pregnancy' suddenly loomed large and the sight of my sister pinned beneath me restated the word in bold capitals, underlined and followed by a string of exclamation marks.

One more stroke and then I needed to pull out, fast! Sarah must have sensed my climax too and in the moment I bottomed out in her for that final stroke, her long legs swung up and about my hips, the ankles locked together in the small of my back as she crooned "No... inside me... it's OK, I'm on the pill..." coherent words were then beyond either of us for thirty seconds or more, before Sarah concluded "...yessss, just like that... you're filling me up."

I couldn't help hoping that it was the 'I'm a virgin' rather than 'I'm on the pill' which was the lie as I rolled off Sarah and slumped on the floor beside her; it was either that or collapse on top of her, I hadn't the energy to hold myself up. God knows how long we lay together in silence and he certainly intruded into my contemplations:

My getting to fuck Sarah surely proved there was a God... but if there were, he'd surely not have allowed me to fuck my own sister? I'm telling you, such things aren't easy when you're a Bishop's kid.

I was the first to move, my embarrassment having re-surfaced and now with a dollop of shame and self-reproach added to the mix too; I muttered vaguely toward Sarah about being tired and heading off to bed but I didn't dare to look her in the face. Sarah sat upright in the instant, grabbing me by the wrist and snapping "On your own... don't you fucking dare!?"

When I met Sarah's gaze that fire was back in her eyes. "You don't capture a vulnerable girl, alone in a lonely house and then leave after you've fucked her just once; any halfway competent rapist would know how to make her get him hard again and then spend half the night fucking her every which way." In emphasis, or perhaps concerned that I wasn't 'a halfway decent rapist' Sarah ran her tongue lasciviously around her lips before repeating that wicked smile.

Remembering that it wasn't just my fantasy that was being realised and adamant that I wouldn't disappoint Sarah again, I took my cue; grabbing her by the hair with one hand I pulled Sarah roughly up onto her knees, my sister yelped with the pain and in that moment I used my other hand to force my half-flaccid and sticky cock between her parted lips: "Suck it slut... get it hard for me, I've not finished with you yet."

Sarah struggled and protested, but never ceased in applying herself attentively to my fast recovering cock, that process no doubt being aided by my contemplations as to what it would feel like, to shoot a load into my sister's mouth?

I did get that question answered, but not until several hour later, by which time we'd long moved into Sarah's bedroom where she'd spent a torrid night securely bound to the frame of her bed, with a couple of our father's old neck-ties which 'just happened' to be conveniently draped over the bed-head when we got there.

That all happened over twenty years ago and though we're now both married with children of our own, it's a night which often springs to mind. Most especially on afternoons like this one, when Sarah's husband has taken their two boys to play soccer, leaving their mother at home, alone and vulnerable, in an isolated house... Easy prey for anyone intent on bending her over their kitchen table and roughly fucking her ever available cunt.