Home for the Holidays

The holidays always evoke such vivid memories for me - fond flashbacks of my teenage years, when life was ripe with new experiences and discoveries. More and more, I find myself reliving those moments, like flickering images from films seen long ago. I find these recollections are often accompanied by a wellspring of emotions and sensations that the experiences originally inspired. This is especially true when those emotions and sensations were being experience for the very first time. And with your own family.

Lately, I've been reliving a particular holiday when I was still living at my parents' apartment in Paris. I was in my last year of school and counting the days until I'd be leaving for university "to start my life for real." I had matured early, both emotionally and physically, and couldn't wait until I'd achieved my independence. My older brother, Pierre, had made it "over the wall" the year before and was studying abroad. He was coming home for the Christmas break and I couldn't wait to see him.

Pierre was a year older than me but we might as well have been twins. We had been inseparable, sharing our secrets and supporting each other through the throes of adolescence. He was smart, had a head for numbers, and was pursuing a degree in international business. I was more the artistic type but we found plenty of ways to bond over the years. We complemented each other and enjoyed the pleasure of each other's company.

It wasn't always that way, of course. We had our share of tussles when we were kids. We were rambunctious and our city apartment could barely contain us. We'd chase each other around and end up wrestling on the living room floor. Occasionally, one of us would take it too far and there would be yelling and recriminations. Usually, though, we would end up in a tickle fight, laughing uproariously, and then collapse in each other's arms.

As we grew older, we both pursued our individual interests. For him, football was king - soccer, as you call it in America. I was into ballet and theater. We'd both attend each other's events, cheering each other on. We were each other's biggest fans.

When we were young, Pierre and I both worked part-time modeling. Our mother had been a model and quite famous and we were both blessed with her good genes. I had her high cheekbones and lithe body. Pierre had the body of an athlete and a strikingly handsome face.

As I matured, my body became more womanly. My breasts became fuller which my ballet teacher didn't particularly like. I still had a narrow waist and long legs but my ass became fulsome and heart-shaped. While not ideal for ballet, I learned to appreciate what nature had given me. And I started to get a lot of attention from men.

Every summer, my family would go to our beach house at Vieux St. Giron near Biarritz. It was une plage naturiste -- a nude beach, you'd call it -- so it was quite normal for us to spend the whole day without clothes. As a teenage woman, I attracted a lot of attention from men. I spent my childhood running up and down the same beach and no one paid any attention at all. Now, with my melon-sized breasts and a shapely derriere, I couldn't stroll down the beach without all the men staring. Sometimes, when my brother and I would kick the ball together, I would see the men near us with hard-ons.

I was starting to understand the effect I had on people around me. I would enjoy sitting out on the rocks, naked, with my back arched, feeling the sun caressing my body. When I looked around, the men would all be looking at me, staring at my breasts, and my upturned nipples standing out in the cool sea air. Their wives would be glaring at me as well. I would just close my eyes and smile and pull my shoulders back even more. I felt sexy all the time.

My brother was amused by all the attention I was getting. He'd call me "la fille très sexy" and then pinch me on the bottom. Or, he'd sneak up behind me and tickle the undersides of my breasts. "Imbécile!" I'd yell. But inside I liked that he saw me that way. As a sexual being, not just a little sister.

After all, I saw my brother that way too. How could I not? He was si beau. So tall and handsome. With dark curly hair and beautiful bedroom eyes. And his body. Mon Dieu, his body made me feel all creamy inside. All those days playing football and getting in shape had done him good. He had broad shoulders and a muscled body. His arms were strong and his ass was flawless. And when he turned around. Oh mon Dieu! Let's just say I was grateful to be wearing sunglasses. I couldn't take my eyes off him.

And now he was coming home for the holidays. He was arriving just in time for Mother's holiday party. It was a yearly tradition. Each year, she would invite a group of friends over for a year-end bash. They were a diverse cast of beautiful people - models, actors, designers and such. Lots of music and drinking and carrying on.

Pierre and I were getting ready for the party. I was waiting for him to stop monopolizing the bathroom we shared.

"Hurry up," I called through the door. "I have to get ready."

"I'm in the bath," he answered. "Just come in and do what you have to do."

I opened the bathroom door and saw Pierre reclining in the tub. I placed my makeup kit on the sink and fished out my lipstick.

"You've been bathing for an hour," I said. "Who do you think you are, King Farouk?"

"I miss my baths," he said, blithely. "My apartment in London only has a shower."

I leaned over the sink and started to apply my lipstick. I could see him watching me in the mirror.

"Well, hurry up. I need to shave my legs."

"Go right ahead," he shrugged. "Don't let me stop you."

"I like to soak my legs first," I explained.

"Soak away," he smiled. "There's plenty of room."

I turned and gave him a look.

"OK, fine," I said. "If that's the way you want it."

I tossed my lipstick in my kit and proceeded to unclasp my slacks. I pulled them down my long legs, revealing a sexy thong. I turned to slip out of my pants, showing him my ass.

"Ooh la la," he smiled.

I smiled back and pulled my pullover over my head. I unclasped my brassiere and slipped out of my thong.

"Voilà," I said, matter-of-factly. "Now, move over."

Pierre bent is knees and pulled his legs in and I stepped into the tub. I could feel Pierre's eyes on my body, on my breasts.

"The hottest body in all of Paris," he said gallantly. "Did you shave for me?"

I splashed water in his face.

I admit I'm rather proud of my body. My breasts are nicely shaped and sit high, with cute, upturned nipples. Pierre has always remarked how much he loved them. My slightly swayed back and round ass have also drawn a lot of compliments.

"Where am I supposed to put my legs?" I asked, standing in the water.

He spread his legs to the edges of the tub. I could see his big cock floating in the water beneath me.

I slowly lowered myself and extended my legs so they lay on top of his. My feet squeezed between his hips and the side of the tub.

It was like we were embracing each other with our legs.

His beautiful brown eyes took in my body -- my breasts above the water and my pussy below it.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly.

I was conscious of my pussy being open to his gaze.

"Oui," I whispered, with an intake of breath.

My heart was starting to pound.

"Let's get your legs nice and hydrated," he said, running his hands along my thighs.

"Mmmm," I squirmed. "That feels good."

"Have you missed me?" he asked with a low, sexy voice.

He ran his finger tips along the insides of my thighs.

I closed my eyes and let out a sigh.

"Yes, of course I missed you."

"I think about you all the time," he said softly. "Especially at night. When I'm in bed."

My chest heaved and I arched my back.

"Oh, moi aussi," I sighed. "I think about you too."

He was rubbing the insides of my thighs, sending electricity through my body.

"I miss coming to see you in your room after everyone's asleep."

"I miss that too," I heaved. "So much."

"Remember how I'd sneak into your bed and cuddle with you? Completely naked. Our bodies pressed together. Keeping each other warm. I miss that."

His fingers were massaging the crease between my legs and hips. My head was tilted back, my eyes closed.

"You kept me more than warm," I whispered. "You made me hot. So fucking hot."

"And you made me hot too," he said. "Hotter than any woman's ever made me."

"Is that true?" I smiled, my eyes still closed. "More than anyone?"

"I swear to God," he whispered. "Look."

I opened my eyes. Sticking straight out of the water was his rock-hard cock.

"Mon Dieu," I gasped. "I forgot how big you get!"

"Only for you, my darling," he breathed.

With that, he reached under my ass and lifted me towards him. He lay me onto his crotch, his long cock nestled between the folds of my dripping pussy.

The feeling of his hardness against my aching pussy was like heaven. Involuntarily, I started to rock my pelvis, stroking his cock with my pussy.

"Mmmmm," he groaned. "You're the sexiest woman in the whole world."

I smiled and took his head in my hands. I pulled him to my chest, smothering his face with my breasts.

"Oh, my beautiful brother," I cried. "I love you so much."

He lifted me up with his muscular arms and lowered me on top of him. The head of his cock pressed against my opening.

Slowly, he lowered onto his cock until the head popped inside.

"Ohhhhhhhh!" I shrieked.

He quickly lifted me off and shushed me.

"Shhhhhh," he whispered. "Mother's running around."

I gave him a desperate look.

"I don't know if I can," I panted. "Be quiet, that is. It's been so long. And it feels so good!"

"I know," he whispered. "I've been missing you so much. I've never been so hard in my life."

I melted to hear that.

"Oh, ma chère," I sighed. "Let's wait 'til tonight. After the party. Come to my room. Like you used to."

Pierre nodded. I climbed out of the tub, my legs shaking. He dried himself and slipped back into his bedroom.

It took me several minutes to calm down enough to dare shave myself.

That night, the party raged in full force. Mother had arranged caterers and the music was throbbing. There was lots of laughter and hugs all around.

I wore one of Mother's gowns, a slinky number with sequins and a daring décolletage. It was sexier than what I would normally wear, but my moment with Pierre had me feeling particularly randy.

Mother's friends were very warm and I had lots of attention from the men, especially. They would all want to hug me, and offer me champagne, and want to know what my plans were. I would catch Pierre's eye from across the room and he would give me a knowing smile. That would send a tingling sensation straight to my pussy. I felt warm and wet most of the night.

I would take momentary reprieves by stepping out onto the balcony. The air was cold and bracing which was just what I needed to clear my head. Unfortunately, it also had the effect of making my nipples stand out, and since I wasn't wearing a bra, they were quite conspicuous in my dress. No sooner would I step back inside but some young actor or model would be wanting to talk to me.

Between that and the champagne, I was feeling horny as hell.

When the party started to simmer down, I paid my respects and said goodnight to Mother. I flashed Pierre a look and then headed off to my bedroom.

I closed the curtains and slipped out of my dress, and standing stark naked in the center of my room. I sometimes like to dress with no underwear at all. It makes me feel free. Sexy. As if I'm ready for anything.

I let my hair down and brushed it. I even added a bit more perfume. It was silly, I was going to bed after all. But I wanted to be sexy for Pierre.

Be sexy for Pierre? What have I gotten myself into? I had fallen in love with my big brother. I knew from my Catholic upbringing that it was beyond sinful. But it was too late for that now. We had gone too far.

I put a candle next to my bed, and some matches. I pulled back the fresh, Egyptian cotton sheets. I wanted everything to be just right.

I had had quite a few glasses of champagne and was feeling a bit light headed. Not drunk. Just ... loose. I lay in bed thinking about my Mom's friends and what had happened earlier with Pierre. I swore I could still feel his big cock rubbing against my pussy.

I was feeling all twitchy and nervous. Hot and bothered, I think you call it.

I reached down and ran my fingers over the skin on my thighs. Just as Pierre had done. I let my fingers drift to my abdomen and to my breasts. I tickled my nipples and felt my heart start to race.

I can't wait for Pierre to touch me like this, I thought to myself. My other hand found my pussy. I was already dripping wet.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock at my door.

"Entrez," I whispered, quickly placing my hands to my sides.

The door creaked opened. I could see Pierre's silhouette slip into the room and shut the door.

I lay still, my heart thumping. Could he hear it pounding from across the room? In the darkness, I could just make out his silhouette moving slowly to my bed. I felt the weight of his body get on the bed. The slight change of temperature as his body approached mine. Suddenly, I felt his skin against mine. Electricity.

I turned to my side. Away from him. I stuck out my ass so he could spoon against me. He curled up behind me and I could suddenly feel his soft skin against mine, his chest, his thighs, his fingers gently touching my breasts. Then, I felt his hard cock sliding between the cheeks of my ass.

"Mmmmm," I moaned.

I wriggled my body to get closer to him. I rocked my pelvis to feel the full length of his cock against my ass. He was already hard. He was already full of desire for me! I felt his lips kissing my neck. His warm breath against my skin. I melted.

"You were so sexy tonight. So beautiful."

I smiled and nuzzled against him.

"I watched all those men throwing themselves at you. They all wanted to be with you. To fuck you. But I just smiled cause I knew you were saving it all for me. Just for me."

I turned my face to his.

"Yes, I was saving it all for this moment. Oh Pierre, I was so wet. All night. Thinking of you."

He reached down and ran his long finger along my slit. I heard him sigh.

"You are wet," he whispered. "I've never felt you so wet."

"I've been wet since you arrived. Since before you arrived. I need you to satisfy me, Pierre. Only you can satisfy me."

He thrust his pelvis so his cock slid between my cheeks. He was so hard. Already so hard.

"Ta derrière, c'est si bonne," he whispered as he stroked my ass with his cock. I arched my back and rubbed my soft ass against his hardness, slowly stroking him up and down. "Tu as la plus belle derrière à Paris," he added, saying I had the most beautiful ass in all of Paris.

To hear my own brother tell me he loved my ass, like that, pressed against me in bed, well it simply took my breath away.

"What shall we do first?" he asked, as he stroked his hard cock between my cheeks.

"Oh, I want to suck you so bad," I moaned. "I know how you love that so much. I want to give you the complete pleasure."

"I was thinking how much I want to eat your pussy!" he laughed. "It can't believe how wet you are. I want to taste your desire."

We looked at each other for a brief moment.

"Soixante-neuf!" we exclaimed at the same time.

Pierre had taught me how to do soixante-neuf early on. Back when I was younger and having qualms about a brother and sister having sex. The fear of pregnancy. The whole mortal sin thing. Pierre assured me that soixante-neuf was less sinful because there was no danger of actually getting pregnant.

I saw his point and decided to throw myself into it with a passion. I loved the pure carnality of it. The pursuit of pleasure for pleasure's sake. And I was determined to get really, really good at it.

I'd start by kissing and licking my brother's long, hard cock, and then take it into my mouth, sucking and caressing it with my tongue. I would rub my face and hair against his cock, and cover it with warm, wet kisses. I'd lick the ultra-tender spot right on the underside of the head until he was squirming with pleasure. I'd bring him right to the brink of orgasm and then retreat, over and over, to maximize the pleasure. I wanted it to build and build until he finally exploded in my mouth and throat.

I insisted that we do it every night. Sometimes, when I got impatient waiting for him, I'd sneak into his bedroom and just start sucking his cock. Kneeling at his desk. Taking him deeper and deeper into my throat. Then, when I could feel he was ready to explode, I'd run my tongue over the head of his cock. Again and again. Circling him. Sending electricity through his body. Until he ignited like a bomb. He would have the biggest orgasm that way. Filling my mouth and throat. And I'd drink every last drop.

He told me it gave him the best orgasms he ever had.

And my brother wasn't a selfish lover. No, he licked my pussy like there was no tomorrow. I remember I came and came and came. In fact, there WAS a tomorrow. And a next day. And a next. He snuck in my room every night for three straight months. He got me some birth control pills so there was no risk of me getting pregnant. Then it was less sinful, you see. Once I was on the pill, I could give myself to him totally. Oh, mon Dieu! Did I give myself to him! We had sex in every imaginable way. He taught me so much. And it got pretty wild let me tell you. He sometimes had to hold his hand over my mouth cause I would scream so hard when I came.

He turned me from a girl into a woman.

But now he was back from university and we had a lot of catching up to do. I wanted tonight to be special. Unforgettable. Our mother was three sheets to the wind by now. No one was going to bother us.

I rolled away from him and slowly got up on my hands and knees. My eyes were fixed on his. I took his warm, hard cock between my lips, kissing him, licking him, using my whole face to make love to his cock. I released it with a smack.

"I want you to fuck my mouth like it's a pussy," I growled.

He stared at me with wide eyes. I lay on my back with my head over the side of the bed.

"Come on, big boy, show me what you've got!"

I licked my lips and closed my eyes, making my lips into a swollen, wet pussy. He got up out of the bed and moved to me. He was standing, his rock hard cock pointing straight at my face. I could feel the heat of his cockhead against my lips. He shoved his cock into my mouth, parting my lips like a flaming hot pussy. I knew what was coming and opened my throat. With one thrust, he shoved his big cock all the way in. Again and again. He leaned against the bed and just pumped his cock into me, using me as a fuck toy.

When I was ready for some fun of my own, I bent my legs and spread my knees. This was my signal for him to go to town on my pussy. And did he ever. He started licking my cunt like a man possessed. He used his tongue to vibrate my clit and, before long, my body was bucking and twitching en route to my first orgasm.

When my climax peaked, he was pressing his cock into my throat as deep as he could go.

Il était très, très érotique.

Next, I had him lay back on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard. I climbed on the bed, kneeling, facing him. I fingered my pussy with my index and middle fingers and put them in my mouth, hungrily. I loved how wet he made me.

I walked on my knees until I straddled his cock. I reached down and took his big tool in my hands and guided it to my drenched pussy. I lowered myself onto it, my mouth open.

"Merde, tu es grand!" I moaned. Shit, you're big!