Healed Shoulders

Sometimes Emily's words would seem wise beyond her years -- and this was one of those times. I loved my sister, sure she could be annoying and infuriating -- but she was also positive and supporting, and always seemed to know the right thing to say.

I smiled and thanked her. I asked her how she thought I should deal with my emotions, with the guilt and shame I was feeling. Her answer surprised me. She told me to embrace them, to accept them as valid emotions in the same was as I had accepted the joy and pleasure of sucking my son off. Emily told me to 'use' them -- and then she gave me an analogy. Emily loved analogies -- and no, not because it began with the term 'anal'.

Emily reminded me of a time in our child hood when we were having a race, me and my 2 sisters. Emily was always the fastest of runners, and it was no surprise when she got into a 3 or 4 yd lead. My older sister was languishing behind -- not really interested in such 'childish' endeavours. Well, I tripped and skinned my hands and knees -- we ran on concrete in them days, so it was no surprise that both knees were bleeding.

My eldest sister rushed to my aid, but Emily just stopped and laughed. At the time, and even up to that point -- I had always resented her for laughing. I felt it was such a cruel and horrible thing to do, to revel in your sibling's misfortune. Little did I know that worse was to come.

As I sat there close to tears and wiping the blood with my hanky -- Emily lifted her hand up to reveal that she was carrying -- of all things, my private diary.

Now, I need to explain a bit about a young girl's 'private' diary. It carries her innermost thought, her most outrageous of feelings and her most intimate desires. It was not something to be messed with, and certainly not something to be shared with others -- not even, or especially not -- siblings. And yet, Emily somehow had got a hold of it and was now brandishing it like a trophy. As Emily told the story, I began to remember the incident.

"You were furious with me. Remember?" she offered with a smile. "And do you remember what you did?"

Of course I remembered. It was seared into my brain like a brand on a cow. I got up and I chased my sister. At that moment, I recall -- I would have chased her to the very gates of hell, so determined was I to get my diary back.

"You caught up with me, remember -- and I was running flat out." Declared Emily, as she closed in on the point of the story. "You'd never got close to catching me before, but you did that day." She cooed proudly.

"You had my fucking diary." I half hissed, still not having forgiven her for stealing it.

Emily laughed, and told me the point of the story was to get me to realise something. In that moment, I had channelled my anger, fury and frustration and turned it into adrenaline -- enough adrenaline to give me the strength and speed to catch Emily up. My mind cleared a little, as the point of her analogy began to dawn on me. I asked her if she had stolen my diary because she wanted to teach me that very lesson.

Emily scoffed and said "No, of course not -- I just wanted to read your diary. But it's a fair analogy for your situation now."

Emily went on to explain it, and in my mind my emotions and feelings began to clear -- Emily was peeling them away like someone removing the layers off an onion. She explained that, just as I had channelled my anger back then -- so I could channel my guilt and shame now. She said I needed to accept them and fuel them and let them add to the pleasure that I was feeling when I had done the deed.

My mind was rocked, I had never thought of it like that before. But Emily had studied Psychology at Uni -- so it was no wonder that she was full of such stuff. She went on to clarify things, saying that it was the basis of a lot of the sexual fetishes that were now deemed 'acceptable' by society.

"Nobody WANTS to be hurt, not really." She intoned. "But what's happened is a slow transition of pain to sexual pleasure. First you get the pain, and then you get the sexual pleasure. Over time -- the 2 merge to become a feeling of overall sexual pleasure. As soon as the pain is delivered, the person knows the pleasure is coming." She said, before adding "Of course -- it's never that simple. But you get the idea?"

I did get the idea, and it did make sense. My mind raced to apply this thought to my own situation. I started by asking Emily if what she meant was that I needed to 'accept' my guilt but that I needed to feed it into the pleasure I had felt -- so that I was able to take pleasure from my guilt. Emily nodded and I realised I was finally starting to 'get it'. I asked her if what she meant was that instead of trying to suppress and deny my feelings of depravity and degradation; instead of renouncing my guilt and shame -- that I when I thought about the 'incident' (Yes that's what I called it) I should allow my mind to accept that it was disgusting and wicked, that it was despicable and appalling -- but that it was also, very, very pleasurable and enjoyable. Emily smiled at me, like a teacher that had finally got her student to understand the lesson.

"It was ... pleasurable, wasn't it?" she hinted.

I smiled and told her it had been incredibly pleasurable, a feeling unlike one I had ever felt before. The wickedness and depravity of sucking my own son's cock was just off the scale when it came to sexual gratification. Emily's eyes went wide and she licked her lips salaciously. I returned her smile, fully expectant of the next question that I knew was coming.

"SO? What was it like." She asked, her voice dripping with excitement.

I paused, still unsure of whether to tell Emily the full story. I told her how, initially I had genuinely sought only to do it for medical reasons. But then I owned up, and said that from the first day I had seen Ben's cock -- it had lit a burning and unquenchable desire in me. I explained how I'd fought it, wrestled with the desire but that it never went away. Emily nodded knowingly, and gestured for me to continue.

"I could hardly get half of Ben's cock in my mouth at first." I giggled. I saw Emily visibly shiver, and I wondered if she too was getting turned on by this. Of course she was, I was absolutely dripping so I'm sure she must have been just as wet.

I regaled the story of my first blow job on Ben's cock, and Emily listened intently -- with just the odd moan or sigh of interruption. She gasped as I described how he had spurted his cum all the way down my throat and asked how that had felt. It had been insanely arousing and ridiculously pleasurable. My only regret, I conceded to her - was that I had (then) allowed my guilt and shame to get in the way of my enjoyment, rather than embracing them as I now realised I should have done.

Emily whistled "Fuck. You sucked your son's beautifully huge cock Sis. You're so fucking lucky." She moaned deeply.

I looked over at Emily -- sure the desire was there in her face. And deep down, I knew she would jump at the chance to give Ben a blow job. But of course, I hadn't yet revealed the full depth of my descent into the dark incestuous abyss.

I took a breath, knowing that I was getting close to revealing the whole sordid events of those 6 weeks and wondering if it was a wise thing to do. I trusted Emily, of course I did. But the more people that know a secret, the less of a secret it becomes. First Amber and now Emily? And who else might Ben have told at Uni? Who else might Amber have told at the hospital? And who else might Emily tell?

"There is more." I sighed. "But you have to promise not to judge me - and you can't ever tell anyone." I warned. Emily promised and so I continued by telling her how Ben had walked in on me while I was fucking myself on a dildo in the shower. Emily howled with laughter and asked how Ben had responded so I told her that he had really, not said anything.

Then I told her about that horrible day, when everything had gone wrong for me and I had launched a tirade of abuse and accusations toward Ben. Emily's eyes narrowed and I felt the condemnation that was about to come my way. But it didn't, Emily simply nodded for me to continue.

I told her what Ben had said to me, about how he would fuck me if I was not his mum -- and that got a sigh of response from Emily. So I explained how I had apologised to him and then finally, revealed what we had proceeded to do.

Emily's eyes went wild with wonder as I told her how I had kissed Ben, embraced him and basically sucked his face off with my mouth. She hooted with excitement as I told her about the dildo and how I had used it on myself even while I still continued to suck him off. Then I told her he had cum on my tits, and went into great detail to describe just how much cum he had deposited on me.

Emily's eyes squeezed closed and, to my utter amazement -- I knew the look. She was fighting for an orgasm. Her had dropped between her legs -- I guess caring little that her own sister was watching her, not that her own sister was desperate to do the same thing.

I continued to regale in great detail, how wonderful the feeling had been -- to have my own son's cum on my tits. How I had lovingly licked it all up and then kissed him passionately once more. I explained and described the full extent of the incredibly deep and intense orgasm that I had felt as Ben had cum on me, how I had drilled that dildo deep into my cunt and wishing it was Ben's cock.

The last admission really freaked Emily out and she gave a low groan. "Oh fuck Sis." She gave a low squeak, and it was a sound I knew well - I realised then, that she had just orgasmed.

Emily's eyes opened and her smile broadened to a huge grin of satisfaction. I was grinning too, relieved in the knowledge that I wasn't the only pervert in the family.

"You ... you really did that?" she asked almost incredulously. "I mean, you kissed your own son while you fucked a dildo into your pussy, and then ... then you sucked him off and let him come over your tits?"

I told her that I had begged Ben to come over my tits, and that seemed to make Emily shudder once more, perhaps in an after tremor of her orgasm.

I gave Emily a cold stare. "Em." I said, using the shortened version of her name. Growing up, this had always been an unspoken rule that meant I was going to say or ask something deadly serious.

"Em. I need to know something. If ... If any of this comes out ..." I started, then paused. "If it comes out, what Ben and I have done -- you'll ... you'll support me wont you? You wont turn on me and start calling me a wicked harlot and a disgraceful mother?" I implored, it was more of a request than a question.

Emily coughed. "It won't come out, leastways -- nobody will hear it from me." She assured, before adding "But Jayne -- you only have to read the trashy magazines and some of the posts in the online forums to know that these things happen all over the country. Only the other week there was story about a woman that shared her husband with her mother."

I pointed something out to her, something she had said earlier about Mother & Daughter Incest not being entirely illegal but that anything that could cause a pregnancy was. But straight as a di, Emily responded in the sharp way she always did.

"You can't get pregnant from a blow job." She laughed, then stopped suddenly -- seeing the concern in my eyes.

"Wait ... wait ... OH my FUCKING god ... you ... you fucked him didn't you? You fucked your own son." She hooted.

I felt myself go bright red, and despite my earlier convictions to embrace my guilt -- it all fell by the way side. I tried to respond but for once, my own voice let me down. My secret was out now, for good or bad, and I knew I would have to deal with the ramifications.

"Fucking hell." Sighed Emily. "I mean, I suspected there was more but ... this."

I continued to go even redder and I averted my eyes in shame and disgust as I realised the gravity of what I had just admitted to. "Please, please don't hate me Em." I implored.

Emily looked at me, her gaze wonderous and effervescent. Her mouth was half opened in a look of awe and surprise. Once again, she tapped my hand lightly and reassured me that she could never hate me. I asked her if this changed anything, if it changed how she thought or felt about me or about what I had done. Her response astounded me to the heavens.

"I'm just so fucking jealous." She wailed. "You got to feel that lovely cock inside you. Oh god you must have come half a dozen times. I know I would." She giggled, not a trace of resentment or judgment in her words.

I asked her if that was truly how she felt and Emily explained that sex was sex. It's meant to be pleasurable and it's meant to be enjoyed. Again, she briefly switched to psychologist mode as she explained that it was no different to gay / lesbian sex, hotel sex or even sex with a stranger. If both people derive pleasure from that sexual act -- then really, it was nobody else's business.

I pointed out the legality of it, and Emily in turned pointed out that it was still legal in some countries and that in 20 or 30 years -- who knew what would be illegal or illegal. I was about to press her further when she giggled and asked me the question I knew was coming.

"Did he ... did he get it all inside you? I bet you must have been completely soaking down there -- you always did get wet quickly -- but fitting that monster in? Did it ... did he reach your cervix?" she enquired, more than a little hint of excitement and arousal in her voice.

I asked her why she was so interested and excited about the incident and that's when she gave me her look of 'Oh come on -- you must know', and straight away, I did.

"I might not get a chance to fuck him Sis, but an Aunt can still fantasise about it -- can't she." She offered brazenly.

I couldn't argue with the logic. In truth, until that point -- I hadn't really considered how I felt about Emily and Ben fucking. It had come up earlier in the conversation and I had told her that I would never let it happen. But that was before the whole story had come out -- now, it put a whole new slant on the question.

I looked over at the clock, it was gone 1am and the wine was dulling my senses. So I told Emily that she now knew the whole story, and of course begged her once more not to divulge it to anyone. Emily reassured me, then added that she was so turned on by the whole thing.

Emily asked me why I hadn't told her the full story from the beginning and so I explained that I really didn't know her views on it (incest) and that I couldn't take the risk that she would be horrified and disgusted.

There was a huge smile from Emily and she said simply "Sis. You KNOW -- you can tell me anything, absolutely anything and I will never hate you or judge you." She assured.

I was reassured. I had just watched my sister orgasm from hearing the story and no doubt it would be a fantasy that she would play over and over again in her mind. It wasn't something she was going to divulge to anyone else in a hurry. But in truth, I wasn't prepared for what happened next.

--

That is the end of part 3. For those that are interested in what happened with me and Emily -- please read the associated Sub-chapter. For those that don't -- again, thank you for reading and I welcome your continued feedback and comments.