Blondie Confesses to Sibling Sex

"Mon Dieu, the big jerk can write...my big brother can actually write!"

With cautiously smiling agreement, I said, "Yeah, I was impressed, too. Looks like he's learned something in all those creative writing courses he's taken through the years."

Blondie said reflectively, "He's always said he wanted to be a writer...but why did he have to write about me?" Then after a thoughtful lull, she murmured pensively,

"You know, if this wasn't about me, it would prolly make me horny as hell readin' it, tu sais (you know), cher?"

Reaching over and ruffling her platinum locks placatingly, like you would a child, I teased,

"Yep, like that video just did—I think because that journal is about you, totally about you—I'll bet it is making you horny, sweet cheeks."

She threw me a hard look that immediately softened with resignation, acceptance of the truth and acceptance that continued denial in the face of such evidence was both foolish and futile.

"Okay, okay...I know you're prolly right...just let me finish this, d'accord?"

Moments later, laying the journal aside, she sighed, "My God, it is a sexy account but it's also embarrassing to read how I was such a petite salope (little slut) who did all this stuff." When I lifted my eyebrows enquiringly, she whispered confessionally,

"But yeah, I did... I did start out fuckin' him to give him some relief...but if I'm gonna be honest, I have to admit it felt good, real good, so I got to where I wasn't as reluctant as at first."

"An' then, after a while, I got where I wasn't reluctant at all; it's true that once I started screwin' other boys, I did come' home from dates still horny, makin' it easy for him, just like he says."

Smiling wistfully, Blondie sighed, "But it wasn't just that they hadn't finished the job an' left me horny. A big part of the reason I was still horny was that I knew Bertie was waitin' for me to get him off an' give him some relief."

"Merde, who am I kiddin'? We were both doin' it cause it felt good...doin' somethin' that was wicked as hell an' it felt really good doin' it."

"Truth is, I liked fuckin' Bertie, but felt guilty about doin' it, all at the same time."

Pausing thoughtfully, she sighed, "I was a very confused little girl..." She smiled contritely, "But I was also a very horny little girl who discovered right away that I really, really liked to fuck."

Fixing me with a determined gaze, she declared, "Okay, that's it...no more denials...time for full disclosure...yes I willingly fucked my brother an' yes, we fucked a lot."

With a tight smile she admitted, "An' yes, I was certainly old enough to know what I was doin' was wrong, but now that I've been with so many other men, I have a lot better idea of why I kept doin' it. She was quiet for a long moment before sighing,

"My big brother was a damned good fuck."

She gazed off into space, musing, "My God, I never thought I'd be able to say that to anyone, 'specially my husband."

I held out my hands, palms up, in a "good for you" gesture, saying, "You know what they say about honesty being the best policy and confession being good for the soul."

She tittered, "Good Lord, I really was a very bad little girl wasn't I, cher?" With a very apprehensive look, she asked hesitantly, "Do you think I was a horrible little slut?"

Hoping to perk her up, I replied, "No, I think you were...and still are...a wonderful little slut, someone who cared enough to help her disabled brother with his very normal sexual needs when other girls his age wouldn't. I admire you for that...I really do, Blondie."

After a moment of silence I went on, "You've known since we met that I've always felt that love and sex aren't the same thing, necessarily..." I paused, "But I do think that providing sex to someone disabled who needs it as you did with Bert, is a demonstration of love and caring. So who am I to even question your behavior, much less condemn it?"

"And if you happened to get sexual pleasure and sexual relief for yourself by doing it, so what?" I grinned, "I believe you coon-asses call that lagniappe (a little extra reward) right?"

"Thank you, babe, for bein' so understanding," she said softly, to which I responded,

"Hey, you're not the only one that journal makes horny, sweetie pie. I get a boner every time I read it and see what a hot little sex kitten you were...even long before I started trying to turn you into a hotwife. Hell, you already were one in spirit—you were a natural."

That earned me a wry, dubious smile as she asked, "So it doesn't bother you, me puttin' out for all those boys when I was just a teenager?" She paused, then, "Includin' my own brother?"

I laughed, "Hell, Blondie, look how many guys you've put out for since we've been married. And as far as the brother thing goes, you do remember that I told you my own big sister put the moves on me after she was married, for crying out loud...and I was too stupid to take advantage of the situation...been kicking myself in the ass ever since for being such a dumbass."

"Thank the Lord I married a man with such an open mind about sex," Blondie sighed, "Or I'd prolly have been in big, big trouble a long time ago, sans aucun doute (without a doubt), with the sex drive I have."

She teased, "An' my need for strange cocks..." She winked, "Big strange cocks."

Tapping the journal with a long, hot pink nail, she raised her eyebrows inquisitively, asking, "So readin' this makes you horny, huh?"

When I just smiled and nodded, she gave me a seductive look, "Me, too. You know, cher...if you don't mind...I think maybe I'd like to watch that video again."

Getting to my feet, I pointed at the journal and teased, "Reading that kind of puts that video in just a bit more personal context doesn't it, sweetie?"

Picking up the vibrator she'd earlier tossed aside, my decadent wife purred sultrily,

"Mmm...hmm, you could say that cher, an' you sure wouldn't be lyin'...now, play it, please?"

Blondie's response to that second viewing could best be described as a continuous orgasm. It began when the blonde girl pulled down her brother's shorts and that big, thick cock popped out in front of her face, and it never seemed to stop until the video did.

I again switched again to easy-rock music and just sat there quietly watching as she gradually got her breathing under control. Over the years I'd seen her have plenty of orgasms using her little friends, even multiple and extended orgasms, but never anything like what I'd just witnessed. I said, "Wow!"

She was leaning back against the cushions, her hands over her eyes, breathing deeply, "Yeah, wow is right...Mon Dieu, what the hell just happened to me there?"

I said, "Not too hard to figure out...same thing that happened when you fucked those two guys with the lazy eyes...it reminded you of fucking Bert...and you need to face it, babe...being reminded of the forbidden stuff you and Bert did gets you hotter than anything else does."

Waiting a moment to let that sink in, I added, "Well, that and black guys...you get awfully hot with them, too, but that's just another form of forbidden fruit for a Southern girl."

That earned no reply so I continued, "Plus, it has to be a big relief that your deep, dark, teenage secret is finally out and not bottled up inside you anymore, so some of it was attributable to that don't you think"

I waited a moment then teased, "But I suspect most of it is because being an over-sexed little hotpants who loves decadent sex...the more decadent the better...I'd guess you were probably fantasizing about just how good and decadent it makes you feel to fuck your brother."

That did earn a response, an abruptly thrown satin pillow that caught me square in the face and,

"Va te faire foutre vous connard (Fuck off you asshole)!"

But then as I looked back up at her, I saw the merest hint of a smile and she murmured,

"Well, like I said, he is une très bonne baise (a very good fuck). Better 'n any of my boy friends were an' better hung, too."

She turned, looking directly into my eyes, smiling wryly, "But you know what the best thing about it was?" and when I shrugged, " He was always available...right there...ready an' waitin' for me...any time I needed to get laid, tu sais?"

Then, with a scampish smile, she tittered, "An' I didn't have to put my clothes back on to go home to bed afterwards 'cause when Bertie climbed off me, I was already in my own bed an' all I had to do was roll over an' go to sleep...just like bein' married.

She grinned, "I confess...bein' a lazy-ass teenager, I really loved that part of it."

Tapping the journal again with that long red-lacquered fingernail, she said almost proudly,

"He's not exaggeratin' in here either when he brags about his big cock...he was right that I told him he had a bigger dick than any of the boys I dated. It was the biggest one I'd ever had up 'til we started fuckin' around with other guys an' I screwed that hung Mexican kid, Ronnie."

Ronnie was a well-endowed, twenty-year-old Mexican construction worker that we had picked up in a local bar when we lived in Texas, our first venture of the sort. Literotica readers can find the full account of that and her further adventures with Ronnie and his friends at "Blondie's First Bar Pickup" and "Blondie's First Gangbang".

I remained silent, letting her go ahead and bring it all out. She smirked with intimate pride,

"That part about him stayin' hard after he comes is true, too...was true, I guess I should say, don't imagine it is anymore though, not at his age now."

Anticipating another thrown pillow but unable to ignore a perfect opening, I hit her with,

"Would you like an opportunity to find out?"

She didn't react for a long moment, just reclining there quietly against the pillows staring into space until, with a sidelong, heavy-lidded glance, she asked disbelievingly,

"Are...you...fuckin'...serious...Rick?"

Nodding and smiling, I started to reply and she spluttered, "But...but..." I interrupted her,

"Now just hold on a minute, Blondie and hear me out, okay?" Without looking at me, she raised her arm and waved in a dismissive 'whatever' gesture, so I continued,

"Look, baby girl, it's no secret you get turned on by kinky sex, okay? You like fucking other men, even three or four at a time, even total strangers...hell, especially total strangers...and you like it even more if they're black. You like getting it on with pretty women and you definitely have a thing for young men...the younger the better, as long as they're legal...and I think your reaction tonight to this journal and this new video may explain the reason for that particular preference."

She started to interrupt again and I held up my hand, palm outward, to silence her, saying,

"Just let me finish, okay?" then continued when she fell back into silence, "Your biggest, darkest secret is out: you fucked your brother and liked it, admittedly liked it a lot...which is obvious from the way you react sexually to certain stimuli...just as we've seen here tonight. Hell, you've acknowledged that reading that..." I pointed at the journal, "Makes you horny, right?"

Taking a deep breath, I went on, "So we know you like kinky sex. The question is, would fucking your brother again now that you're adults be any kinkier than fucking anonymous black guys in hotel rooms? Would it be any kinkier than fucking and sucking off an eighteen-year-old boy like you did that black kid, Lucien, a few months ago, right there where you're sitting?"

"You went wild with that kid. Think maybe you were reliving what you did with Bert?"

Turning to look at me, her protest was a sighed, "Okay, okay, suppose everything you say is true, he's still my brother an' as you say, we're adults now, not horny kids anymore."

Then with a bit of Blondie's typical Cajun verve, she smiled slyly, murmuring,

"An' if I come on to him now like you're suggestin' he'll prolly have a heart attack, Rick."

I grinned, "Bet when he gets a look at you in your sexy lingerie he'll be having a hard attack, and I'll bet he won't mind a bit having his gorgeous sister be the first responder to help him out with the problem."

She groaned at my old, lame joke but agreed, giggling, "Not unless he's changed a lot, a whole damned lot. That boy never has been able to get enough of baby sister's tight little pussy," with a mirthful faraway expression on her face.

I noticed that "never has been able" verb tense, thinking it a bit curious, but decided not to pursue it. Heartened by the way this was now going, I didn't want to do anything to put her on the defensive. I said neutrally, "He probably hasn't had anything like it since your last time together, especially when it comes to looks...if Edith's any example."

Edith was Bert's estranged wife, disabled much like him by similar childhood disease...pretty enough but with a horribly bitter personality. They'd separated more than a year ago and he'd been back in Baton Rouge since, living in a federally subsidized apartment, sponging off his parents. I gazed at my beautiful blonde mate lying there a few feet away, trying to imagine Bert's reaction if he could see her. He'd have a hard attack alright. Hell, she was giving me one.

I laughed, "And he hasn't even had any of Edith's pussy for well over a year. Bet you when he sees little sister in her sexy underwear, he'll be the same old Bert you knew back then: horny, hard and staying that way until you're worn out and begging him to stop."

That observation drew a small moan, as she turned to me and murmured, "I can't believe we're even sittin' here talkin' about doin' somethin' like this..." then shook her head in disbelief,

"Mon Dieu, we're not kids anymore...we're all middle-aged now, you know, cher?"

Nevertheless, I saw her hand drop to the floor, feeling around for her vibrator, and realized, jubilantly, that there was a very good chance my little hotwife was giving the idea of a sibling sexual reunion some very serious consideration. Her next words virtually confirmed it.

Blondie winced when the buzzing knob contacted her vulva then asked, "I assume what we're talkin' about here is lettin' Bertie fuck me with you watchin', hmm?"

Cautiously, I replied, "Well sure...but not if it's a dealbreaker, okay? Of course I want to watch, but if you think that's a problem...if you feel you need privacy...I can handle you screwing him by yourself and then telling me about it like we always do with your other Cajun boyfriend."

She considered that a moment then responded, "No, I think it would be more excitin' if we let you watch us this time, sugar."

That slight emphasis on this time snagged in my mind but it would be another week before I learned why. Further confirming she had made up her mind to do it, she said,

"I'm just hopin' we don't shock him too much when we pop this hot little proposition on him, tu vois ce que je veux dire sais (you know what I mean)?"

Snickering, I said, "Babe, I've watched your brother undress you with his eyes ever since you turned into a sexpot, so I think your concerns are unwarranted. You're probably his masturbatory fantasy—you probably couldn't count all the times he's jacked-off thinking of his baby sister all grown up and gorgeous now."

That elicited another low moan and a sighed, "You're right...an' I know it...I know him...he'll jump at the chance to fuck me again, pour sûr (for sure)."

She giggled, "I'll prolly need you there to pull him offa me once he gets that fat cock plugged in me again. That boy never wants to stop fuckin' me once he gets started." Leering, she teased,

"Back in high school that little Cajun girl was just too young to appreciate all that virility an' that kinda stayin' power, but she damn sure does now."

Again she giggled, "She might not be in such a hurry for him to climb off her nowadays." She winked, "Know what I mean, cher?"

She was on a roll so I just nodded, smiling, and let her run with it. She was still using a light touch with the vibrator...tender lady parts no doubt...but bore down a bit as she continued,

"Wonder if he can still use that grosse bite (big cock) as good as he used to?"

I chuckled, "I doubt you're going to be disappointed," which brought a louder groan and renewed enthusiasm with the vibrator as she sighed,

"Oh I'm not gonna be...'cause even if he can't, just the excitement of doin' somethin that naughty again...specially with my husband watchin' us...will be enough to get me off."

With that she settled into her vibratorial pursuits, quickly bringing herself to another wracking climax. Before it had even faded away, I was between her legs, pushing myself into that steamy snugness. As we settled into a steady rocking rhythm, my little sexpot kissed my ear,

"I simply cannot believe that my husband wants me to fuck my brother." she murmured, "An' sit there an' watch me do it." Taking my face in her hands she kissed me hotly, sighing.

"I can't believe I married such a big ol' handsome, vilain bâtard (naughty bastard) an' you know what? I just love it that I did, you bad, baad boy you."

A week later we had another sensual evening, and after Blondie had treated herself to an extended orgasm watching the brother-sister video, we discussed our upcoming Christmas trip and our planned sibling seduction, debating whether we should reveal that I had purloined Bert's journal. But since that first night of revelations, I'd had a burning question, one fraught with risk. During a lull in the conversation, I ventured out on thin ice when I asked what I knew was a potentially dangerous question,

"Am I correct in assuming that Bert was still hitting on you when you came home at night after we started dating? I mean that journal makes it pretty clear that you both got really turned on with him getting seconds after you'd just been out on a date having sex...and you and I had sex on almost every date for several months until we got married."

Without looking at me, she said in a small voice I could barely hear,

"I've been wonderin' all week when you were gonna get around to askin' me that an' I'm not gonna lie. Yes, he hit on me...an' yes I let him have it, cher. The short answer to your question is simply yes...as in yes, I did let my brother keep fuckin' me after you an' I started datin', okay?"

Surprised more by her willingness to admit it than by the fact of their doing it, I asked, "After every date?" and after a long, pregnant silence she whispered,

"Just about, babe...he was persistent...always there waitin' for me every time you dropped me off...an' I do mean every."

After another extended silence, she said, "I've already told you how horny he was all the time an' I'm pretty sure I know why now—it was those drugs he was takin' for his jerky muscles—that Levodopa stuff. I read somewhere a couple of years ago in one of my women's magazines that it causes men to have increased sex drives an' makes 'em able to perform more often an' produce more sperm. She gave me a very mischievous look and tittered,