I Know Who You Arebyepiphany65©
Inspired by the person who sent me anonymous Feedback claiming to know who I was, but didn't seem to know my real name. Whoever you are, thanks.
I scanned the words on the screen of my computer monitor. I felt pleased with myself for having completed my endeavour. However that was tempered with some anxiety and more than a little guilt.
They were just pixels that formed letters, that formed words, that formed sentences, that...
I had finally completed what I had spent months talking myself out of, then ultimately into doing. At that point I was still the only person alive who knew what I had done. I could easily delete the text file and forget about it all. What prevented me from doing that was a combination of my ego and my libido -- a dangerous brew of endorphins and hormones. Even as I perused the lines I had written I could feel my cock begin to harden.
I had been a frequent visitor to the Literotica website for close to a year. After growing bored with the familiar themes and machinations of the stories I was seized by the notion that I could write as well, if not better than, many of the authors whose stories I had read. I had never written a piece of fiction in my life, save the brief descriptions of myself I had given while chatting to women (or men pretending to be women) online. That did not count. I needed a plot and characters -- men with totem pole-sized cocks that grew so hard they could nail a railroad spike into a board and women whose breasts rivaled the Goodyear blimp, who were so tight that they could crack a walnut inside them.
For the next week or so I began mulling over plotlines in my mind. My favourite category amongst the many erotic stories I had seen posted was Incest. Somewhere in the back of my dirty mind I knew that if I were to ever submit a story it would be under that category.
I was almost nineteen and still a virgin. Sure, I had gotten a few blowjobs and several clumsy hand jobs in the front seat of my parents' car, or behind hedges at house parties, but that never qualified as sex -- any staunch Democrat could tell you that. My greatest sexual exploits and conquests had all occurred within the confines of my mind while masturbating. What I was even more averse to admitting to anyone (except you, and you don't know who I am. Right?) was that my nightly fantasies usually revolved around my sister, Alison.
Alison is four years older than me and the most lovely young woman I have ever cast my eyes on. She is a few inches shorter than me, about 5'5", with curly dark red hair. It flows down her slender back past her shoulder blades and shimmers in the afternoon sun when she tans in our back yard. She is what most people would consider average build. I don't think she could ever get a job at Hooters, but I've noticed many of my friends' eyes following her around, so I guess I'm not the only one who finds her attractive. Her hips are slender, but always seem to have a mesmerizing sway to them as she walks. Whenever I find myself staring at them my eyes always gravitate to her firm, round backside. It looks as though you could crack an egg on it. My sister doesn't work out at a gym and has never been involved in sports, but somehow Alison was blessed with a body that could straighten out a corkscrew. For me, she was the epitome of beauty and desire. Unfortunately she was also off-limits to me because she was my sister. Yet that never stopped me from making love to her in my mind almost every night.
My story was finally completed. It revolved around a teenage guy who lusted after his older sister. After a prolonged period of teasing and flirtation the siblings consummate their lust for one another, once the elder sibling accepted her feelings of lust for her brother. Readers seemed to crave happy endings and I was more than happy to oblige. I had followed the hoary advice of writing about what you know about. This was what I knew about, except for the happy ending. I named my characters Kathy and David.
To say that Kathy was inspired by my sister wouldn't be completely accurate or even honest. The character was more like a clone of Alison. I even went as far as writing a scene where David leers at his sister's breasts down the front of a blue floral sundress she wore. Alison owned a dress exactly like the one I clothed Kathy with in my story. I, like the fictional David, had often glimpsed my sister's breasts down the front of that very dress as she bent over. On a few occasions I had even been fortunate enough to catch a fleeting glimpse of a dusky nipple protruding from her swaying breast. During these occasions my arousal was always mixed with fear that Alison would notice me ogling her. Often I waited for an angry rebuke from her for my illicit actions. That never happened.
I had also set up an email account at Hotmail to receive Feedback (good or bad, should anyone feel my story warranted it) with a username that no one could possibly ever trace to me. My greatest fear at this point was that someone would discover that the story written by Bad_Bro_69 was in fact written by me, Andrew D. I comforted myself with the realization that of the dozens of stories I had read I had no idea who any of the authors were. They could be my neighbours or one of my friends for all I knew. Had I written something I considered more pedestrian I would not have been so concerned with anonymity, but given the subject matter of my story, "Kathy's Epiphany", I felt it essential.
My right index finger trembled as it hovered over the left mouse button. I stared at the Submit Now icon. It was an adversary, testing my will. I held my breath and pressed down on the mouse button.
Now it was too late to change my mind.
The FAQ at the website said that my story should be posted within a week. I was nervous. I had put my submission through a spell check twice and read it over a few times, scanning for obvious mistakes of any sort. Everything seemed in order. After four days my story had still not been posted. I grew anxious. The information on my Submissions page indicated that my story was still Pending. At least it had not been rejected. Hope flourished.
That Thursday afternoon when I arrived home from my afternoon classes at college I wanted to race up to my bedroom and check the status of my submission. Discovering that Alison was already home was bittersweet. Any time spent with Alison was wonderful, but at that moment I wanted privacy.
Alison worked at a mall downtown. She was a sales representative for the local phone company. Her job essentially consisted of dealing with customer complaints and answering stupid questions, but she earned a commission on new customers she was able to sign up. She had been doing this for almost two years and seemed to like it -- as much as one can like a job with little hope for career advancement. She had Tuesday and Thursday afternoons off. Somehow I had forgotten this as I hurried home that afternoon, planning on checking to see if my story had been approved.
"How was school?" my sister asked.
Alison was sitting at the kitchen table eating a slice of watermelon. For a moment I allowed myself to believe that this was a clever ploy by her to frustrate or tease me. Juice ran down her chin and her full lips were shiny wet with it. She held the rind between her slender fingers. They too were coated with the juice of the watermelon. I noticed that she had painted her nails a blood red. My heart beat faster, pumping my blood to my cock. It began to thicken and rise.
"Okay," I grunted "I just wish I didn't have to take English."
"I can help you if you want," my sister offered "that was my best subject in school."
I barely heard Alison's reply. My eyes were riveted to her pursed lips as she pushed out a watermelon seed between them. Moments later they were sucking at the rind again, drawing every drop of juice out of it. I imagined her full, moist lips wrapped around my cock as she sucked on it until my cum was running down her chin. Her brown eyes moved up until they met mine. She smiled and I felt myself blush.
"How was work?" I asked, eager to avoid any silence.
"Okay," my sister replied with a shrug "we had the usual stupid people calling who don't know how to use call forwarding or set up voicemail."
I nodded, still staring at my sister's mouth.
Alison dropped the watermelon rind on to the plate in front of her then examined her fingers. They were wet with the juice from the watermelon. It ran down towards her palms.
"I'm all sticky with juice." she remarked as she got up and moved towards the sink.
It wasn't the words as much as the way Alison said them and the look in her dark eyes as they met mine that made my cock thicken even more. I scanned the shape of my sister's ass covered by her blue skirt as she rinsed her hands off at the sink. Her skirt stopped a few inches above her knees. My eyes moved up from her black shoes, past her well-toned calves to the hint of her soft thighs below the hem of her skirt. I was stricken with the thought of bending her over the counter and pulling her skirt up around her hips. When she tore off a strip of paper towel and turned around towards me as she dried her hands I forced myself to concentrate on the present.
Alison had a peculiar look on her face as she dried her hands. I wished I knew what she was thinking, but I was equally hesitant to ask. I noticed her eyes flit down to the front of my jeans, then back up to my face. Never before in my life had I ever been so self-conscious of my erection.
"So, what are you up to?" Alison pulled open the cupboard door below the sink and tossed the paper towels into the garbage can.
"I was going to check my email before supper." I replied, growing more nervous.
Alison nodded. For a moment it seemed to me that her expression was incredulous, or maybe that was just paranoia on my part.
When my sister never replied I turned and left the kitchen. Once I was out of her sight I hurried up the stairs to my bedroom.
My palms felt sweaty as I waited for my computer to start. Immediately I navigated towards the Literotica site to check the status of my story. I really don't know if a person's heart can literally skip a beat or momentarily stop, but mine definitely did something unexpected when I saw my Submissions page. My story had finally been approved. I smiled, partly out of relief, but mostly out of pride.
The next thing I did was surf to the front page of the site. Although I had read my story many times, there was something about seeing it once it had actually been published online that filled me with a sense of gratification. I read all three pages, smiling to myself the entire time.
Once I had finished reading my story I decided to check my Hotmail to see if anyone had sent me Feedback. I don't recall if I was more surprised or apprehensive to discover that I had two emails. I felt the same sense of apprehension as when I had submitted my story as I clicked on the first email. I read it quickly, wanting to find out if the reader liked or disliked my story. I smiled and leaned back in my chair once I realized that the Feedback was positive. I opened the second email. This too was reassuring. The sender essentially said that my story was a good first attempt and encouraged me to write more. I noticed that the first email was sent by a reader who had chosen to remain anonymous, but the other sender had been brave enough to supply a return email address. I made a mental note to reply later and thank him for his response.
I was lost in an ego trip and never noticed Alison for a few seconds. She was leaning against the doorway to my room, smiling as she observed me.
"That must be good email, Andy. What's her name?"
I jumped and whipped my head around towards Alison. She laughed at my reaction.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, little brother." she chuckled.
Alison approached me. I managed to navigate to another website just before she stepped beside me. Her perfume was the first thing I noticed. It was musky and sexy. The next thing I noticed was her hip and ass. She was less than a foot to my right. My eyes shifted and ran up her left leg to the curve of her firm backside.
"What were you looking at a minute ago?" she asked, sounding accusatory.
"This." I said, trying to sound composed.
"The CNN website?" Alison's voice was full of disbelief.
When I felt my sister's hand on my left shoulder I flinched. Her hip grazed my right arm as she sidled up to me. My cock was even harder now. I shifted in my chair.
"I never knew that the news interested you that much, Andy." she said, sounding like she was mocking me.
"Huh?" I grunted.
"Well, you had a weird grin on your face a minute ago." she said.
"Oh..." was all I could muster.
I could feel my cock pushing up at my jeans and I knew that my sister would noticed it if she looked down at my lap. In fact, she probably already had.
"Anyway, I'm going to get changed before supper," she said "I'll let you get back to whatever you were looking at before I interrupted you." My sister let out a sarcastic laugh as she left my room.
Alison's bedroom was across the hall from mine. I watched her hips sway as she walked towards her door. She closed it behind her. I gave a sigh. Soon my mind was filled with images of her undressing on the other side of that thin wall. I reached down and rubbed my cock through my jeans.
That evening after supper Alison went out with friends. I spent some time with our parents watching television before telling them I was going up to my room to work on homework. I discovered that I had received a few more emails with Feedback on my story. All were positive. One even had suggestions for how I should continue my story in ensuing parts. Again, I discovered that two of the emails contained an address for me to reply. I sent off emails to them, thanking them for their praise and assuring them that I would write more stories.
At that point I was honestly not sure that I would write any more stories, but after I went to bed I began to weave plots in my mind. Most were along similar lines to what I had already written and all of them had a variation of Alison as the object of the protagonist's desire. My hand slipped inside my underwear and stroked my hard cock as I built the stories in my mind. I saw myself as the main character and my sister as the focus of his incestuous desires.
I fell asleep soon after spraying steaks of cum over my stomach as I fantasized about Alison. At some point I was woken my the sound of someone in the bathroom, then a door closing. It was almost one in the morning and I knew that my sister had arrived home.
Over the next few days emails with Feedback continued to trickle in. Overall they were mostly positive, even when the senders offered constructive criticism. Any advice was welcome at this point. Now I was emboldened to write a second story.
That Sunday night before I went to bed I decided to check my email one last time. Already I had begun to feed off of the Feedback sent to me by readers. It stoked my ego and convinced me to continue with my fledgling online writing career. Perhaps I could become the world's most famous pseudonymous writer of erotic fiction I told myself.
That night there was only one piece of email waiting for me. I opened it. My brow furrowed as I read the message a second time. Then fright and paranoia began to build within me. The email was sent by an anonymous reader and consisted of only five words: "I know who you are."
Immediately I ran through a mental checklist of friends who might have read my story and discerned that I was Bad_Bro_69. I had done little to mask the fact that Kathy was in fact my sister, Alison. Their descriptions were identical. Anyone who knew her would see the similarities. Hell, anyone who had seen her in that sundress would recognize it in my story.
Next I asked myself who amongst my friends was likely to have visited Literotica, much less be interested in reading stories in the Incest category. Immediately I thought of a guy I knew, Brandon. He had an older sister named Sarah. She was almost as pretty as Alison. If she were my sister I'd certainly have lustful thoughts about her. Then I recalled one night when I was hanging out with another friend, Vanessa. She made some off-handed remark about how her older brother, Dylan, was "a real hunk" and that she'd want to have sex with him if they weren't siblings.
I mentally scolded myself for having judged my friends as I judged myself. Not everyone was as perverted as me after all. Still, a good many people had read my story, so I was not alone in harbouring forbidden thoughts for a family member.
Eventually my panic and suspicions gave way to reason. I reminded myself that whoever wrote the email never outed me by calling me 'Andrew'. That would be definitive proof of their claim, yet it was absent. I was somewhat relieved that the sender's assertion lacked any proof. It was undoubtedly just someone trying to have some fun at my expense. I saved the email, turned off my computer and went to bed.
That Tuesday afternoon I decided to skip my last class of the day, European History. I was doing well in the class and could afford to miss one. I wanted to get home and work on my second submission to Literotica. I had already worked out most of the details of the plot in my mind and was eager to begin writing it for real.
When I arrived home I discovered that the door was unlocked. I had remembered that Alison had that afternoon off, but hoped she would allow me some solitude before supper so I could begin my story.
The house was quiet when I entered. I had expected to hear the television or music coming from my sister's bedroom. I climbed the stairs. Already my cock had begun to harden as I mulled over the outline of the story I was about to begin. As I passed Alison's bedroom door I noticed that it was open. She called out to me.
As I turned and entered my sister's bedroom my heart did that funny thing it sometimes does. This time it was not out of fear or nervousness, but arousal. Alison was on her bed, lying on her stomach, flipping through a magazine. Normally that would have been enough to quicken my pulse and send blood to my swelling cock, but this time it was more than that. Alison was wearing the sundress that I had made reference to in my erotic story. She raised up on her elbows and smiled. Her hair hung down her shoulders towards the swell of her breasts pushing out at the front of her dress, but what really caught my eye was her cleavage.
"How was school?" she asked.
"Okay -- same as ever." I mumbled.
I could see about half of my sister's round breasts down the front of her dress as she raised up on the bed to talk to me. They appeared to be much more than a handful and I was tempted to step closer in hopes of seeing her nipples. Instead, I froze, feeling my cock harden.
"You're home early," she remarked "don't you have another class?"
"Yeah, history, but I decided to ditch it." I tugged the strap of my knapsack higher on my shoulder and focused on Alison's pretty eyes.
Alison clicked her tongue and shook her head in mock disapproval, then laughed. She tossed her magazine aside then twisted her body around to sit up on the side of her bed. It was then I noticed her nipples poking out at her dress. They appeared to be as hard as my cock was at that moment. It was obvious she had no bra on. I hated the silence between us. All I could hear was the sound of her computer whirring in the corner of her bedroom. My eyes shifted towards it and I noticed that her screensaver was on.
"What are you up to?" I asked.
"Reading Cosmo." she said, nodding towards the closed magazine beside her.