Seduction of a Lonely Sister

The minor problem was that Evan was cuddling me. It felt so good to have a man's warm body against mine, his broad chest pushed tightly against my back, with his arm around my torso, even if his hand was cupping my left boob. It was over the T shirt, and that's probably body memory from how he slept with Elle before the split. I gently lifted his arm off my boob and body. Luckily, he did not stir. It was Saturday, and he had two more days of leisure; best to let him enjoy them.

I ate my Special K with fresh raspberries atop, and some sheep yogurt (yes, while still dressed in my T shirt!), and most importantly I drank several cups of coffee. I spent the rest of my allotted time in the bathroom, using the toilet, brushing my hair, and applying make-up. I left right on time, and Evan was still sound asleep.

It was a long, hard day at work, with wall to wall life and death decisions. I got home around 8:45PM, having picked up some ravioli on the way home. Evan was there waiting for me, with a chilled bottle of white wine, and a companion bottle of red. "I didn't know your plans for dinner," he explained.

"Let's have the white wine for an aperitif and the red wine with dinner," I said. The two of us talked all evening, first about Mom and Dad back in Indiana, then about our sister Nancy, and finally about work in NY at the hospital. Nancy was one of the more interesting topics.

According to Evan, Nancy left her long-term boyfriend for another woman, having finally, and blatantly publicly, come out of the closet. I knew she was hiding in the closet (don't worry; it was a walk-in closet) for quite a while, but it was all news to Evan, who had probably been secretly lusting after her sumptuous bod. Around 11PM, we collapsed into bed. I again wore my T shirt and panties to bed.

I thought about Nancy. It must have taken amazing courage to come out of the closet, both in Indiana, and especially on the same planet as our parents reside. It wouldn't have surprised me if our parents had not tried to force Nancy into 'conversion therapy.' That discredited technique was still alive and thriving in the Hoosier state. Good that Nancy was of age and financially self-reliant!

My shift began the next day at 10AM. It was to end at midnight. This time when I woke, Evan had somehow managed to get his hand underneath my T shirt, and he was cupping my bare breast. His fingers had separated like a Vulcan salute, with my nipple in the middle of the V. He had been sleepily playing with my nipple, and it was hard and erect. (That's not such a big achievement, in my case. My body can get aroused by nothing more than a late summer breeze. Of course, at this moment, it was a very cold December!) Evan was still asleep, or doing a first-rate acting job of playing the sleeping, innocent brother. I extricated myself and made breakfast for both of us, and ate mine. The next day was Monday, and then Evan too would have to get out of bed in a timely way!

After two weeks of Evan's delightful company, the time came when the next day he could move into his own living quarters. On our last night together, he pushed his luck. It's one thing to cuddle your sister while you sleep, especially due to the cold, even to the point of rather harmlessly feeling up her boobs. This last night, however, his hand slipped under my panties. That's something else altogether.

I lay there, on my back, legs only very slightly apart, sleeping peacefully. I woke when I felt Evan's hand inside my panties. I continued to lie there, pretending to sleep, freaked out and considering my options. His fingers were playing with the small amount of pubic hair I hadn't waxed and shaved away. They were getting relentlessly closer to my pussy. Closer, then closer still. It was like water torture, waiting to see where they would go. I knew full well I didn't have to be so passive.

Obviously, all I had to was to roll onto my side, presenting my backside to Evan. So, I decided to do exactly that, to stop things before the point of no return. I made the rolling onto my side finesse. Evan had to remove his hand from my panties, unless he was Mr. Fantastic or Elongated Man and could stretch his arm at will. He wasn't made of rubber. No, he was bound by the unforgiving laws of Newtonian physics.

The distraction came next. Evan kissed my shoulder. He kissed my shoulder lovingly, his kissing increasing as he pulled me gently back to have me lying again on my back. His kissing intensity increased as a reciprocal relationship of the distance of his fingers to my pussy.

Before long, his fingers were there. Their goal had been reached. Evan paused, both the progression of his fingers and the kissing. It was a bit like an erotic water torture, actually. The incessant drip, drip, drip analogous to his fingers slip-sliding around through my sparse forest of pubic hair, was tortuous, as I waited to see if he would go for the gold. He had already pushed my panties to the side.

I don't know what was wrong with me, as I passively lay there, still pretending to sleep, being careful to have even breathing. I think the past two weeks of having a sexy man sleeping with me, even if he is my brother, and doing nothing sexual about it, had stirred up some long-repressed desires which were now rising to the surface. I do love my brother, after all. He's handsome, sexy, and a doctor (well, nobody's perfect), but he's also my bleeping brother! Get a grip, Michelle.

Evan's fingers began to caress my labia. I was already wet, just from the anticipation. Oh, God, this was too much. It was now a Herculean effort to pretend I was still asleep. Evan had to know I was wet, given where his fingers were, and then it happened: He slipped a finger inside me! Damn, but that felt good! Evan's solitary finger began to pump, and it was easy to imagine it was Evan's cock inside me, and I couldn't help it, I began to moan.

Evan began to move to climb up on top of me, doubtless planning to mount me and to fuck me to smithereens, when my alarm clock sounded its blissful tones. Talk about saved by the bell! I jumped out of bed, aware of course that my T shirt had been pushed above my boobs.

I quickly pulled my T shirt down, corrected the position of my panties, and ignoring what had just happened, especially what had almost happened, I calmly asked, "Eggs for breakfast today, Evan? Sunnyside up, or over easy?" Those were Evan's two preferred ways to have his eggs cooked.

Evan got up, pulled off my T shirt, ripped off my cotton panties (they had pictures of roses on them), and watched me make breakfast while being completely nude. He'd come over to me, kiss my back, and fondle my ass. "I'll be moving out this afternoon," he said.

"I'll miss you, Evan, but given what happened in bed this morning, and especially what almost happened, as well as what's happening right now, it's obviously for the best," I said, and then we kissed, as I burned the scrambled eggs. It wasn't a little peck, a little brotherly kiss, either. No, Evan gave me the most erotic, and longest kiss in my own, personal history. The eggs burned to the extent that the kitchen smoke alarm went off, ending the kiss. It was too bad because the eggs had come from the farmer's market, and I had been assured that the day before they had been inside a hen.

I opened a window, leaning out of it while still nude, giving my usual voyeurs (if there actually were any of them) a special treat, and then I stood on the step ladder, flashing the voyeurs my ass and pussy, removing the battery from the goddam smoke alarm. Evan, too, thoroughly enjoyed the view, I'm sure.

While I was on the step ladder, Evan bent over a bit, strategically positioning his mouth, and he began to lick me. I just stood there, on display to the neighbors, while Evan ate me out. I spread my legs as much as the step ladder's smallish step allowed, and I raised my arms, touching the ceiling, for added stability. I'm sure it also maximized the appeal of my boobs, too, for the voyeurs, and for Evan. I put on foot on a higher step, opening myself up a little more for Evan's magical tongue.

I was getting much too aroused to continue to stand on a step ladder. I told this to Evan. I didn't want to fall. Being a nurse, I was hyper aware of the possible consequences. I also had to get ready for work, and so too did Evan! So, we reluctantly called an end to the cunnilingus, to my regret and to my relief, simultaneously. We both got dressed, me in my sexless nurse's uniform, and Evan in a coat and tie. We walked over to the hospital together. Neither of us mentioned all that had happened, or what might have happened, that last morning in my apartment.

The weeks after Evan moved out went by, tedious in their monotony of suffering, and all too frequently, death. It's truly frightening to see a grown, strong man, gasping for breath and unable to breathe in enough air. I had seen it often enough via (for example) congestive heart failure, when blood fills the lungs, reducing their capacity dramatically, but the Covid phenomena was of a different nature. Best not to dwell on it, although since it was all around us, it was hard not to do so. It's one of those things to which it's impossible to get inured.

After two weeks had passed, and my loneliness has risen up the charts to an unbearable level, Doctor #3 dropped by for a surprise visit. I couldn't help myself; I was thrilled to see him, just for the companionship. When he gave me a welcome hug, I simply melted. I really needed some human contact along those lines. Even though I didn't like the man much, I did not present much of a challenge for him, I'm afraid, and once again we became willing accomplices in the release of our loneliness via the exploitation of our pent-up sexual urges.

After I had made us both dinner, and we had eaten it, in an unusual display of a slight morsel of kink (unusual for Doctor #3, that is; not unusual for me, I'm afraid), he bent me over my small dining table and took me from behind. I made all the noises that men love to hear, helping to make him feel macho by conquering me, and as my reward, Doctor #3 drove me to a lovely climax, my first on top of my tiny New York dining table.

Doctor #3 left around 10PM, because we both needed to sleep before another day came, facing the catastrophe that was Covid. There was, of course, no way on Earth Doctor #3 was going to spend the night with me, and he knew it without my having to say it. It's a nice feature of dating doctors: By and large, they're smart.

A final blowjob, with his cock covered in his cum and my love juices, and Doctor #3 was on his way. I slept well that night. I was bright eyed in the ICU the next day, and at one point, as I was reading the chart of a patient to see what I needed to do, someone pinched my 'cute little ass,' as my brother Evan calls it. That happens from time to time to us nurses, and we learn to go with the flow. You don't want to make a scene in an ICU ward, in front of very sick, and sometimes near death, patients. I didn't even turn around. It could have been any of Doctors #1, #2, #3, or #4, or yet another doctor, who had heard about the 'slut nurse' who got 'passed around.'

This was my life, and it went on, and on, and on, as we all waited for a vaccine to (hopefully!) take us back to pre-Covid times; to the beforetime! I got lulled into my routine of cooking topless, and spending my evenings alone. I had a stack of library books I was going through. I had taken to listening to music with my new, Bose, Bluetooth headphones that Santa had brought me for Christmas, courtesy of my VISA card and Amazon.

It was at this point, when, on my day off, I ventured all the way down to midtown, to Columbus Circle, to be precise. I was in Williams Sonoma, checking the vast display of toasters, all shiny in their newness, when a soft, sexy voice said, "Michelle? Michelle Savoyard, is that you?"

I turned around and it was Chip, a one-time lover from my college days, from before I married Bernard and took his last name. For a period of time in college, Bernard and I were on the skids. We decided to try out other people. I think Bernard just wanted to get it on with this sexpot Stephanie, but I, on the other hand, went full tilt slut. The zenith of my slutty period was when I went on a Riverboat Ride on the Ohio River with a group of mostly new friends. Chip was one of the friends. My time with Chip on that Riverboat was memorable indeed!

>>>>>

Chip and I got to talking, and the next thing I knew he asked me to dinner. I declined, being too afraid of indoor dining (I have more than enough exposure to Covid at the hospital!), and instead suggested we get cooked food at Whole Foods (which was in the basement of the shopping center at Columbus Circle, on the floor below Williams Sonoma) and I'd reheat things and serve him dinner up at my place.

There's no better way to endear yourself to a man than when he invites you to dinner, and you instead 'cook' for him. You don't need to bat your eyelashes, or to wear sexy clothes, or to flatter him. It's plenty just to feed him good food, good liquor, and wine. I gave him all three, and I changed clothes to dress nice for him, too, if you catch my drift. Chip ended up spending the night, and he was even better in bed than I remembered him to be, nine years earlier, from that infamous time on the Riverboat.

Chip lived in New York now, like me. He had moved here from Cincinnati for work opportunities, although now he was working by Zoom, from his apartment. There's a lot of loneliness in New York due to the Covid constraints, and indeed, I am Exhibit A. Chip could be thought of as Exhibit B. We would date on the rare times I had a day off.

**

One evening, after a long, hard day at the hospital, I was alone as usual, cooking topless as usual, listening to some hard rock (via Bose headphones) as usual, bouncing around in the kitchen as usual, and of course, fantasizing about voyeurs watching me. As usual. Now, I don't believe in a sixth sense, so I figure it had to be something else. Maybe it was an unexpected cool breeze or something, but I turned and looked at my front door.

Standing there, his mouth open, staring at my almost naked body and especially at my naked boobs, holding his keys to my apartment that I had forgotten he still had, was my brother Evan. His excuse for dropping in, unannounced, was that the subway wasn't running, someone was on the tracks somewhere it seems, so he was stranded uptown. It was a bullshit excuse. We both knew why he was there.

"Are the busses running?" I asked.

"Probably. I hate the bus. They're so slow!" Evan replied.

"Taxis?" I asked.

"I tried. The ones cruising were all taken," he said.

"Uber? Lyft?" I persisted.

"Tripled their prices. Psychologically, I can't handle the exorbitant prices; being ripped off," he said.

Evan approached me, as I froze, and stood there like a dork, or to employ an overused phrase, like a deer in the headlights. I realized, belatedly, I wasn't only topless. In fact, all I was wearing were some black lace bikini panties. I'm a blonde, and a fair-skinned one, at that, so the black lace panties really pop. Evan's a blonde, too, but no one cares with men. He kept getting closer.

Evan came up to me, removed my headphones and turned them off (Evan is like that; he hates wasting battery power -- even at such a moment he took care to turn off the headphones), he took my head in his hands, and he kissed me. I couldn't help myself. All of that loneliness, all of the pent-up sexual cravings, the exhaustion of a grueling routine, the weeks since I had seen Chip or had kicked out for the umpteenth time Doctor #3; it all bubbled to the surface and I simply put myself into my older brother's strong, wise, hands.

Okay, okay, strike the wise part. Strong, yes, but wise? Maybe not, because he picked me up and carried me over to my double bed. He tried to remove my panties and spread my legs, but instead he got a slap and my scrambling to put my T shirt on, to maintain a modicum of decency in front of my very own brother. Nevertheless, and Evan needed not, and did not, know this, but I was already as wet as the nearby Hudson River. I was at my submissive best. Only my self-respect was saving me. For now.

Evan slowly, deliberately, carefully removed his clothes, folding them and placing them on the chair. All the time he was doing that, I did nothing, and just lay there, vulnerable, on the bed, getting wetter with each passing minute. He moved to the bed, dressed only in his tight, white, briefs, his hard cock barely concealed, barely contained, and leading the way. Suddenly I woke from my hypnotic trance.

"No, Evan. We can't. I won't. It's incest," I said.

"I'll take full responsibility," Evan said.

There was a pause for some pregnant silence.

"What the fuck does that mean?" His cock was almost touching at my pussy lips. Two thin layers of cotton, his and mine, were scarce protection. I couldn't breathe.

"I don't know, but it sounds good, and reassuring, doesn't it?" Evan replied.

"Does that sort of crap work on other girls?" I asked, feigning irritation.

"You're the only girl it hasn't worked on," he said. "Yet." That scared me: Had he tried it on Nancy already, our sister? Had he enjoyed the body of our sister, and she his? OMG, is that even possible?

Suddenly, it dawned on me. "How many of my fellow nurses have you already laid, Evan?" I asked. I wasn't about to bring up Nancy! I figured he had surely laid Martha. She was, at the same time, the prettiest and the easiest. She wasn't especially flirtatious, but nevertheless, somehow, all the doctors knew they could bed her with only minimal effort on their part. My theory is that doctors talk, and they talk about the nurses they'd like to get into bed, and the nurses they already have bedded. I'm sure, after Martha, I'm one of their favorite topics of conversation.

Possibly he had also laid Anika? She was a black-haired beauty of Indian descent. Her knockers were the envy of all the other female nurses, including me. They were twin objects of desire for all the male nurses, and most of the doctors, too. I heard, don't ask me how, please, that her boobs are soft and yielding to the touch, as if they were "two little hills in the landscape of heaven." Or so I'm told. Maybe they're not such little hills, either!

There was also Jingjing, the sexpot Chinese nurse, and Maria, the Mexican nurse. Jingjing was a submissive extraordinaire, ready and willing for her man's every desire. Maria was a hellcat of a woman who would put up a good fight before loudly ushering the man straight to heaven. Or so I heard. It was really a United Nations melting pot of nurses, and of all of them, I was the least easy to get into bed, and yet, four doctors had already laid me, and now here I was, totally vulnerable and on the bed for a fifth doctor, except that this fifth doctor was my brother. My very own freaking brother!

Of course, there was also Savannah, one of the Black nurses. Interracial sex has definite kink appeal, but if Evan had already laid Savannah, I would have heard about it; Savannah and I are best friends and gossip buddies, too. I don't think it would have been easy for Evan to conquer Savannah though. She's no sexual pushover; that's for sure!

"I don't count my paramours, Michelle. They're not conquests; they're lovely, wonderful women, each and every one of them," Evan said.

"Bullshit," I replied. "All men count their conquests. We women do, too. That's why God in her wisdom gave us fingers and toes."

"Fingers and toes? More than ten lovers so far, Sis?" Evan said. He was genuinely surprised.

Yes, I'd actually had more than ten men enjoy my charms, but how many more than ten I'm not saying. I wasn't going to play Evan's game. "I'm in my late twenties already, as you well know. Do you think I've been a nun? Anyway, it's men like you who need both your fingers and toes; or maybe an abacus, or a calculator, to count your conquests?"