Don't Overthink It! Pt. 03

My little sister, Joan, was kneeling over me, her hands on the bed, either side of my abdomen. She supported herself in an arch over my groin, terminating at the shapely vulva between her spread legs. She gazed intensely into my eyes. It was her turn.

"If it's pure practicality we're talking about," I said, "I might just lick you, if that's OK. I've never been able to get a woman off with my hands alone."

We swapped positions. I took a moment to touch her body. I ran the palms of my hands down the sides of her torso and the tops of her thighs, my thumbs resting lightly on her ribs, her waist, her pubic mound.

I took her breasts in my hands, giving her nipples each a couple of gentle flicks with the tips of my thumbs. Then, lowering myself gently to her abdomen, I ran my lips and nose over her belly, not quite kissing, breathing in the smell of her body.

I shuffled my way inch by inch down the bed until my face was between her legs. Stroking the insides of her thighs, I inhaled her scent deeply.

As I breathed her in, I understood what this little olfactory signal was communicating to me: my little sister was a woman, a sexually mature adult capable of breeding, capable of who knows what manner of horny naughtiness, a woman who fucked.

I kissed her pussy lips.

Joan let out a long, low moan. I could only imagine what was going through her head.

I tongued the entrance to her vagina. I gave her a long, slow, wet lick along the insides of her labia. I flicked the tiny hooded bud at the apex with my tongue.

I sucked my sister's clitoris and slipped two fingers into her warm, wet hole aching for cock. I savoured her taste, taking her fluids into my body. She quickly reached orgasm.

"Is it intentionally sexual now?" Joan said.

At this point a discussion will have followed around whether we had broken the ground rule and whether the ground rule was misguided.

What does "intentionally sexual" even mean? Whenever I had looked at my naked sister and found her attractive, had that been "intentionally sexual"? Whenever I had masturbated, fantasising about her, and she only in the next room, knowing full well what I was doing, had that been "intentionally sexual"?

The key thing was: we had still not committed incest. Surely that was the hard rule we had been avoiding all along: no penetration.

Is it really any great crime if a sibling sucks or licks another to completion? Certainly it does no harm to anyone, in itself.

Over the weeks that followed we got increasingly intentionally sexual with each other. The floodgates were open, and all of the pent up lust was pouring out. Yet, even so, we strictly adhered to the final ground rule: no penetration.

After all, many couples can't have penetrative sex for lots of reasons, and nevertheless have fulfilling sexual lives.

Joan and I were both disinclined, for the moment, to seek out sexual partners from among the public. We both had needs, and now we had a way to meet those needs. I think we were equally fulfilled.

We knew it couldn't last. Before long, we would both seek romance again, and family. These are things that are denied to siblings by a kind of natural law that goes back to our prehistoric, prehuman ancestors.

No penetration. In the meantime, however, we could rub up against each other, licking and sucking and touching and stroking to our hearts' content. We weren't harming anyone.

Of course, when I say we strictly conformed to the interdiction against penetration, that's not to say we didn't push that boundary about as far as it could reasonably be pushed.

One evening, lying on the couch watching TV, Joan said to me, "Can we put something else on?"

"Sure," I said, flicking back to the main menu.

After looking at a few of the options, she said, "Actually, I might just go to bed."

She got up from the couch and started making her way toward the hall. I watched the rhythmic movement of her shapely butt as she walked.

"I might do the same," I said, turning the TV off.

"Want to come to mine for a bit?"

"That sounds nice."

Getting under the covers of Joan's bed, we held each other and, for a moment, didn't move. I found the skin on skin contact soothing, and for a moment everything seemed at peace.

There was no need for me to do this with someone I could actually breed with. Have you, dear reader, never shared a bed platonically? It might not be common but I don't think it's unusual. Skin to skin touch is very soothing with someone close to you, regardless of their relationship.

Of course, it wasn't platonic. Joan's wandering hands reached for my buttocks, her fingertips on my lower back and waist. I reciprocated with wandering touches of my own, pressing the sides of her breasts.

When she reached for my cock, I reached for her pussy, relishing the warm wetness between her legs. I was hard in her hands. She stroked me as I stroked her.

"Mm," she said, "lick me again, Will."

I did so, as I would many times over the coming weeks, tasting each fold of her vulva, coaxing her clitoris out of its hood and giving it soft, sweet kisses.

"Mm," she said again. "I want to suck you."

We swapped positions, and she got on her knees between my legs, wrapping her lips around my phallus with a tenderness that had my whole body lighting up in electric shivers.

So warm, so wet. Her mouth felt amazing.

Soon she got up and straddled my groin with her legs, bringing her throbbing pussy close, pressing its wet folds against the shaft.

"Fuck, Will."

Soon she was rubbing the head of my cock against her clitoris. There is no feeling more exquisite and maddening, least of all with one's sister.

We did this often. Sometimes we did it for hours, prolonging the inevitable mutual orgasm, just so we could linger in that forbidden space, so naughty, so unspeakable, so delicious.

Soon the nude swim rolled around again. It was now late October. British Summer Time would be over in a matter of days, and daily temperatures would soon fall, once again, into single digits. Joan decided to sit this one out.

Sure enough, walking onto the beach, completely naked and carrying a mostly empty backpack, I noticed the crowd had thinned considerably. The sun was already setting when I arrived.

There, among the faithful few, was Dave. I went over and said hello.

"Oh, Will, where's your sister?"

"Sitting this one out."

"That's a shame, but I don't blame her." He shivered a little and rubbed his arms. "It's getting cold."

We went into the water together. Neither of us felt like staying in very long. The water was magnificent, as always, but the cold can stress the body after a while. We were soon back on the sand.

We caught up a bit. Janine was back in Liverpool. I learned that she was originally from Berlin, but had been in Liverpool for nearly ten years.

Dave was doing well. He had some kind of computer-related job I didn't really understand, but it sounded like he had had some successes, so I wished him the best, as always.

I asked him if he was still single, and he told me about his various dates with women from dating apps. I'd met Sarah on such an app, so I couldn't say they didn't work.

He asked how I was coping with the breakup.

"Not hurting. Just in no hurry to get back into a relationship."

"Meanwhile," he said, "you've got the company of your fine younger sister."

I nodded in agreement, but, in the back of my mind, there was something about his tone I didn't like.

"Will," he said, "I have to ask... it's really none of my business, you know you don't have to tell me anything..."

I was curious. "Shoot."

"You and Joan..."

I felt an itchy heat under my skin, coming from somewhere on the back of my neck and spreading to my face.

"I'm just going to say it," he said. "Are you two... shagging?"

I could feel my face going very red. "Shagging?" I said. "You're talking about me and my sister?"

"Yeah."

"Are you asking if I'm having sex with my sister?"

"Yeah," he said. "I know it's none of my business. I'm only curious."

"Dave. What are you talking about, mate?"

"Seeing you two together at the nude swims, you seem to... touch each other a bit more like lovers than siblings."

I shook my head. "Dave. You have been single too long, mate. You need to get laid."

"No judgement from me, my friend. I won't tell anyone."

"No, I am not having sex with my sister." Inside, I was fuming. I couldn't believe the words coming out of my friend's mouth. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

He turned his palms out toward me. "You've got me all wrong, Will. I don't think you're any kind of person at all. I didn't mean it like that. I thought I saw some things, or picked up on a vibe. I was mistaken. I was wrong."

"OK." I looked around at the beach, at the sea, at the naked people. Somehow the world seemed very different all of a sudden. Had I been giving off 'vibes'? Was I a creep in this crowd? Standing there feeling even more naked than usual on that beach, there I was, overthinking again. It's not easy, sometimes, to let things slide off one's back.

"I think I'm going to head home," I said.

"Yeah, see you around," Dave replied. "Forget what I said, Will. It was poor judgement on my part."

As I walked back to the car, and then as a I drove home, I stewed over this exchange. The thing that really bothered me about it was that I wasn't lying: Joan and I weren't shagging.

I got home and opened the front door to a ruckus.

"No!" I heard Joan's voice, "You had your chance and you blew it. Get out."

I stepped inside just in time to see a man I didn't recognise coming half-dressed out of the hallway. As soon as he saw me he shot me a look of pure evil.

"Alright, mate?" I addressed him. Stepping aside and indicating the open doorway behind me, "There's the door."

I'm really not an aggressive person. I cannot stand conflict. Sometimes, however, someone just needs a little friendly encouragement.

As he pushed past me, the strange man, the rest of his clothes in his arms, thrust his chin at me. "Wanker." Then he was gone.

"Oh, Will," Joan, also half dressed, came over and gave me a big hug. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"What was that all about?"

"First date gone a bit awry," she said. "He was charming over dinner, but as soon as he got his cock out..."

I stroked her hair, and said nothing.

"He had such a nice cock, too, Will. What a waste."

She pulled away from me and went to the kitchen. "I'm having some wine. Do you want some?" removing the rest of her clothes as she went, and dropping them on the floor.

"Sure," I said. I started pulling my beach clothes off. "I'm just going to jump in the shower, OK?"

Once I was clean and refreshed, I joined Joan in the lounge room, where there were two glasses of red waiting. I sat down next to her on the couch and took a sip of the wine.

It should have been very relaxed, just naked on the couch with some wine. Joan had put some music on on the TV.

"I just," she said, at length, "haven't had an actual fuck in ages."

I sighed. "Believe me, I hear you."

"I had hopes for tonight. It can be frustrating."

"It can! Don't let it get you down, Joan."

"I'll be alright," she said. "How was the swim?"

"Oh, it was fine," I said. I wasn't sure what else to say. "Bit chilly." I didn't want to mention the discussion with Dave. "Have you been doing much dating?" I asked.

"Not a lot," she said, "but I thought I should get back into it." She turned to me and smiled warmly. "I really enjoy what we've got going on here," she said.

"But," I said. "It can't last."

"It can't last."

My sister and I were often on the same wavelength, sometimes without even realising.

"What about yourself?" she asked me.

"I haven't put a lot of thought into it, to be honest. A relationship is a lot of work, you understand."

"Yeah," she said. "Meanwhile, you have me."

Same thing Dave had said. "There's something I need to get off my chest," I said.

"What's that?"

"Earlier, at the beach, Dave asked if you and I were fucking."

She made a face at me, furrowing her brows deeply, her mouth slowly falling open in disbelief.

"It seems like a strange thing to ask, right?"

"It does," she said. "What prompted it?"

"He says he feels like he saw us touching, or picked up on a 'vibe'."

Joan put her glass down on the table. Leaning forward on the couch and rubbing her temples, "Fuck my life."

I said nothing.

"Let me get this straight. You and me, we can't fuck... but everyone thinks we are anyway?"

"Not everyone," I said.

She got up and went to her room, muttering as she went, "Fuck my life. Haven't fucked in an age... men with their pricks... all the fucking men are pricks... all pricks except my brother..." rising steadily to a roar, "my own brother who I can't even fuck. Fuck my life! I need to fucking FUCK!" She slammed the door behind her.

I sat on the couch in silence and finished my wine. I thought I'd better go say something. I got up and trod as quietly as I could to her bedroom door and knocked.

"Joan?"

No answer.

"Joan, I just want you to know you're not alone. It's OK to be angry."

No answer.

"You want to talk about it?"

Slowly but surely the door creaked open. There, on the other side, my naked little sister was crawling back into her bed and pulling the covers up to her nose.

I walked in and closed the door behind me. Gently I climbed into the bed next to her. Once I was snugly under the covers, she rolled over and put her arms around me.

"I don't want to talk about it though," she said.

"I understand."

Without saying another word, she reached for my flaccid penis.

Silently I began to play with her breasts.

Soon I was hard in her hands. I reached for her pussy.

She spread her legs for me, a thin string of juice hanging between her parted lips.

I ran my fingertips up and down her slit, doing small circles around her clit.

She got up and straddled me so her pussy was right at the end of my cock.

"We can't fuck," she said softly, "but if we could, would you want to?"

I looked in her eyes for a moment, trying to see what was there. I couldn't figure out what was going on in her head. But my sister and I are often on the same wavelength without realising.

Eventually I smiled. "Yes."

"Yeah," she said smiling back.

Slowly, deftly, she manipulated my cock so the head was resting gently right at the entrance to her vagina.

"We can't," I said.

"I know, I just want it right there for a little while."

"OK."

Gently, she rocked back and forth on my cock, lifting up and down ever so slightly, so I could feel the rhythmic change in pressure right on the tip.

"And if we fucked," she said, "would you cum inside me?"

"Of course," I said, "if you wanted it too. As long as you were on birth control."

"I am," she said.

Slowly but surely, her rhythmic lifting and falling increased in intensity. I could feel the rim of her vagina pushing and pulling against my foreskin, moving it up and down over the head of my cock.

So close. I could imagine what the inside of her soft vagina felt like. How much of the head would it take to count as penetration? What counts as "inside"?

"My legs are getting tired," she said. Then, she sat down, taking the whole length of my very hard penis deep into her vagina, all the way to the end.

It was too much for me. I came immediately.

Feeling me pulsing inside of her, she started to cum as well.

For a moment there was no ground rule, no Dave or other people, no ancient natural law, no world at all.

Only this incredible sensation, the one vagina I had always wanted my penis inside, from the very earliest days of my sexuality.

"Oops," she said softly.

All at once it became clear in my mind. I had never admitted it to myself.

"I just realised..." I said to her.

A wide, knowing smile spread across her face.

"I've actually always..."

"Yep," she said. "Since the first moment..."

"You had just turned 18..."

"I recall every detail..." she said.

"Vividly..." I said.

"And all that time since..." she said.

"I've dreamt about it so many times," I said.

"I think we're on the same wavelength," she said, and pressed my shoulders with her palms.

"It's quite satisfying, really."

"Extremely."

Over the following weeks, we fucked a lot. We fucked in as many positions as we could think of, in just about every part of the house. I shot so many loads into my little sister I lost count.

Then, one day, she was leaving. She'd saved up enough to put a deposit down on a mortgage, and she'd been approved by the bank. It was time to move on with her life.

"Well," I said, putting on a brave face, "it was truly a pleasure having you, little sister."

"Will," she said, "I want you to know that I have no regrets. No-one needs to know what happened in this house. They wouldn't understand. But I'm not ashamed."

Incest between consenting adult siblings is presently a criminal offence in the UK. In the real world, the vast majority of such acts go unreported. The stigma against incest is so great, that most of the people engaging in this activity take the secret to their graves. There is no reliable way to estimate the prevalence of incest between consenting adult siblings in the UK.

How many people do you know who have had consensual penetrative sex with a sibling?

"None"?

How sure are you about that?

How would you know?

Try not to overthink it.