tagIncest/TabooSinning with Sister Ch. 04

Sinning with Sister Ch. 04


Author's note: I got a job. Then I lost said job in a week. Now I am back to writing. Thanks for your patience, and thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep the plot going (with plenty of sex to come, of course!).

Chapter 4

In the first lecture of the semester, when I saw Justine sitting right at the front, I realized I'd been hoping all summer that she wouldn't be taking this unit. In the afternoon I was dismayed to find that not only was she taking the unit, but she was also in the same tutorial group. It was rotten luck, but I consoled myself with the fact that this was the last year. Then she would take her major in international business, disappear into her father's business empire, and leave us commoners in peace to get regular day jobs.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. If I focused hard enough I could almost recall Chloe's sweet scent. The thought soothed me, but the others were watching and I had to answer the bitch soon or back down. I'm ashamed to say that I resorted to an ad hominem argument.

"Fair to you maybe, because you know so much about being an average worker." I glared at Justine from across the table in our tutorial room.

Naturally, she wasn't going to let me get away with that and retorted swiftly in her crisp, clear voice. There was a trace of a British accent in it, a sign of her exclusive private tutoring.

"Since you are resorting to a sarcastic personal attack, you must consider my point inarguable." Her smile of victory, although decidedly fake and designed to irritate, was dazzling nonetheless. Damn it, she was so smug, it made my blood boil. The worst thing about her was that she had every reason to be smug, not least of which was her amazing appearance. I hated to admit it to myself, but she was beautiful. I told myself I wasn't attracted to her though; that would be like surrendering to the enemy.

The tutor, a small and learned gentleman in his sixties, was clearly taken aback by the hijacking of his agenda by two students. He tried -- for what must have been the tenth time in fifteen minutes of otherwise continuous argument -- to move past the unexpectedly rocky issue of industrial relations law.

"I appreciate the, the, erm... enthusiasm with which you have discussed the issue. However, the primary point I was trying to make is that regardless of..."

I zoned out, figuring that he was just repeating what our lecturer had said already, and went about trying to empty my head of all the bourgeoisie bullshit Miss Justine Fox had spouted. She was sitting primly with one smooth leg crossed over the other and was dressed in a black business skirt and white blouse. The material was expensive, obviously. Her hair was in a sophisticated chignon which exposed an elegant neck and her face was inclined attentively towards the tutor. Some said she was a proper lady. I called her the stupid blonde bitch. She was blonde. She was also undoubtedly a bitch. However, she was unfortunately not stupid, which meant that she often had a witty but specious retort ready for me whenever I argued with her appallingly skewed upper-class views. I think she took a kind of sick satisfaction in winding me up whilst remaining perfectly calm herself; she probably thought it proved her superior breeding or whatever.


The transition from car to couch after a day at uni was made with the familiarity of three years' routine. I plopped down heavily and switched on the TV, needing to unwind. My prescribed reading list was already prohibitively long, and the titles were uniformly uninspiring. Almost immediately I began mourning the loss of the holidays and regretting not being more appreciative of the free time. I counted that Easter break was six weeks into semester -- one day down, forty-one to go. Isn't it funny how we don't appreciate what we have until it's gone? I registered Libby coming in the front door. She went straight to her room.

It was two days since I had surprised Chloe at her house, and two days since Libby had last spoken to me. Although I knew that it was going to happen eventually, I wasn't entirely comfortable that I had consummated my relationship with Chloe and lost my virginity whilst still hazy with lust for Libby. We were definitely in love and my girlfriend was certainly happy that it finally happened, so what if it was partially a distraction from a fantasy of more sinful fornication? Whenever my thoughts strayed in that direction, I whispered the word "incest" to myself, and it echoed softly in my ears. I just had to protect her, protect us both, from myself.


After an hour or so I hefted my bag and got to work, starting with the macroeconomic outlook article. From the look of things, the think-tank that published it was decidedly right-wing. I tried to picture Justine. She was probably at a mahogany desk in her riverside mansion, already on the last of the articles. Then I mused that perhaps she had a personal assistant to summarize and read them to her. The thought of her one-upping me spurred me on, and I lost myself in the work until late that night, reading until my head felt heavy and the words lost their meaning.

I felt the air move and swiveled in my chair to see the door swing open. Relief flooded me as Libby appeared; I was so glad that she wasn't mad at me anymore. Relief turned to desire when I saw that she was wearing a red satin slip, the kind of lingerie that is designed to be removed by a lover. Her expression was both demure and sexual. Seemingly moving in slow motion, she came to kneel before me with her head bowed, fixated on the bulge in my pants. Although a rich brown, her hair shone under my reading light. Elegant fingers opened my fly, and then she was holding me. She looked up with a cheeky expression on her face, winked at me, and then began to stroke softly. Pleasure electrified my entire body as I watched her place her other hand lower down and pump. My hips jerked up involuntarily and my eyes rolled back in my head. I was lost in the moment until she stilled her ministrations. There was no protest from me, because I saw what her intention was. With both hands wrapped around the rigid shaft, her head was moving millimeter by millimeter closer to the exposed end. She breathed a warm, moist breath over my angrily swollen cockhead, causing me to grit my teeth. I put my hand on her head, wanting so badly to fuck her face like an animal, but knowing that I could only plead for more with gentle pressure. Her tongue darted out to moisten full soft lips. Then she was closing the distance...

The dampness of a full load of cum in my pants woke me. I sat up slowly, lifting my head off the table and carrying the top page of a report with it. I peeled it off my face, looked at the hole in the page, and figured I must still be wearing several sentences on the emerging economies. My watch indicated it was already two in the morning.

What a dream! As I wiped away the drool I had shed for my sister, I wondered if I could be blamed for what happened in my sleep. It wasn't like I chose to dream about her. Still reflecting, I started cleaning up the cum. How much control did I actually have over my attraction to her? Was she just a guilty pleasure for me or was she simply too hot for any straight man to resist, even her own brother?


After the icing incident there was no pretending that nothing had happened. Libby and I were both painfully aware of each other and spent the weeks following that last summer weekend avoiding any time alone together. On one level it hurt me, but I knew that it was the only way. She did her driving practice with Dad instead of me. Across the table at mealtimes she wouldn't meet my eye. Around the house she started wearing her older, more conservative clothes, covering her luscious body from view. The only time I saw her wearing anything revealing was right before she left for class in the mornings. I felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of all those freshmen getting an eyeful of Libby dressed in her short skirts and shorts. I'd even started to worry that she would be looking out for a suitable guy from amongst the many who would doubtless be hitting on her. Perhaps she would take the same route as me: diverting her affections from her sibling onto someone else. Obviously I was feeling more than a normal, protective brother would for his little sister; I was feeling possessive more than protective. That was a concerning difference, but I couldn't bear the thought of someone else touching her, especially touching her the way I wanted to.

What actually happened remained a secret between Libby and I. Chloe fortunately hadn't had a chance to observe us together and therefore notice that we were acting differently toward each other, and I didn't want to embolden her exploration of the incest topic by providing fresh incriminating evidence. Mom seemed to figure that our behaviour had something to do with the charred cake she had pulled from the oven on that fateful Saturday, but she merely pursed her lips occasionally, evidently trusting that we would figure it out ourselves. Incidentally, she was still over the moon that Chloe and I were dating.


Once you've had sex for the first time, you realize a profound truth: Since the dawn of time humanity has been frustrated by the necessities of daily life occupying time that could otherwise be spent copulating. Those first six weeks of semester felt like the longest of my life. Chloe and I met up when we could, but it was never enough. Her first year physiotherapy course wasn't too tough; I was the one with the heavier workload. Her relationship with Libby was renewed since the two of them were taking the same course, and they consequently had free time together.

I had to let my part time work go. James's jibes about being a slacker eventually devolved into death threats if I didn't show up at the gym, to which I jokingly replied that death would be welcome relief compared to facing another paper. I simply didn't have the time, but I figured I got plenty of exercise with Chloe anyway. I saw her every weekend, and attempts at romance and conversation were thin as the sheer possibility of finally being able to do it again took over.

Chloe led me into a variety of sexual adventures, and each one seemed better than the last. At the time I thought that we were pretty kinky, but I later learnt that she was taking the slow and sweet approach with me; I don't want to jump ahead in the story, but let's just say that I discovered Chloe liked to play the nasty slut. But at this point everything we did as boyfriend and girlfriend was fairly vanilla.

So she jacked my cock while I rubbed her clit. I learnt how to judge her closeness to cumming by the telltale signs of breathing, flushing, and hip movement.

I almost died when she put me in her mouth the first time. Loving the taste, she swallowed everything I could give her.

We tried phone sex once late at night. Her squeals of pleasure as she touched herself expertly sent me over the edge.

I learnt how to eat her out and how to bring her pleasure with my fingers at the same time. Flicking her little nub with the tip of my tongue and pressing the rougher spot at the front of her pussy was the fastest way to get her off.

And I took her pussy in several interesting positions and locations in the house when my parents weren't home. Libby knew what happened whenever Chloe came over, and tactfully found an excuse to go out on such occasions.

My little girl was getting a lot of male attention at college. From the way she looked at me I doubted I had serious competition, but I made sure to keep her satisfied and mark her fair skin with fresh hickies regularly.


The leaves began to color, the days turned cooler, and rain-bearing clouds appeared in the skies for the first time in months. The season suited my mood in those weeks of boring classes and economics work. Suffice it to say that I was glad it was the last year. The other reason to be glad of that was Justine. The bitch just thought she had all the answers and apparently liked to get in my face more than anyone else's. We agreed on nothing, so it was just as well that we were put in opposing debating teams. Sometimes I enjoyed the verbal sparring. It was strangely intimate in a way, when it was obviously just the two of us driving the debate, and tensions were running high. We glared at each other, and when two people lock eyes like that it means they either want to murder each other or jump each other's bones. Her refined beauty led me several times to contemplate the impossible; that she was enjoying it and that we were engaging in some kind of fucked-up intellectual foreplay. Then she would say something unbelievably callous and set me off again. In any case, I like to think I held my own against the glares, cutting sarcasm, and snide remarks.

Libby continued her remarkable job of avoiding me, and seemed to be enjoying first year physio. Some nights I saw her practicing her physical examination skills on Mom and Dad, but pointedly never even asked me to play patient. One time I overheard Mom suggesting that Libby examine my shoulder instead of hers. Libby didn't reply, but I shivered at the thought of my sister's touch.

Chloe and I proved in those six weeks that our relationship could survive busier times, and I lived for our still relatively tame encounters. However, the events of the Easter break got out of hand, especially that first night.


Justine had narrowly beaten me again and topped the class in the mid-semester exams. I was standing in the hallway of the business faculty offices on the last day of class -- the day on which Easter break began. My eyes lingered on the noticeboard, scanning over the class's results with some interest mixed with impatience at wanting to get home. She was a bombshell with brains, alright. If it hadn't been for the thought of Chloe, I would have reflected on how unfair life was that someone could be smart, rich, and flawlessly hot. Sir Richard Fox was the founder and now majority stakeholder in a multinational retail corporation, so I supposed there was a logical explanation for Justine's intelligence and money. The glamour could be explained by her mother; a trophy wife to the businessman and a former supermodel. All in all, I conceded, someone like Justine was explicable even if not very likeable.

I resolved to wipe the smirk off her face in the midyears and spun away from the board. There she was, as though she had been silently reading the board over my shoulder. In that briefest of moments before she could compose herself I thought to myself that she didn't look quite as fierce as when I usually saw her. She didn't seem as happy as most students would be at Easter time either. Then the mask was back.

"Pondering something Mister Marshall?" She called me by my last name; it was surprising she even knew that.

"Come to taunt me over two-percent, Miss Fox?" I replied with all the sarcasm I could muster, my eyes meeting her icy blue ones.

Ignoring me, she hurled an accusation.

"You made up those figures."

"Sue me." I didn't even bother to deny it, knowing that it would just make her madder. At the last faculty debate I'd bent the truth to develop a point more fully. To cut a long story short, the adjudicating lecturer had been convinced and awarded my team the victory. It didn't matter that it wasn't worth anything to our grade; I enjoyed beating her no matter how small the stakes.

She flushed, seemingly infuriated at my apparent lack of respect for the rules and remorseless attitude. She was even prettier all riled up, and it happened so rarely that I was enjoying myself. Isn't that the main reason you argue with her?

"I'll report you." It was an angry whisper.

I was mildly amused. "It's Easter and you honestly think the lecturer is going to care about a student debate that happened last week?" I paused and thought to myself: For that matter, why doesn't she have anything better to think about? She broke the stare after a second and her pumps clicked loudly on the floor as she strode towards the door. The bitch had nice legs. I watched as she climbed into the passenger seat of a waiting sports car and disappeared from view. Pulling out my phone, I pushed the speed dial for Chloe.

"Hey babe, you finished?"


Author's note 2: Next chapter already submitted and coming out in two days. Something significant will happen in the Easter break.

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