Sisterly Love

My sister and I are very close. Very close. It wasn't always that way but our relationship changed suddenly one night 20 years ago, in the back seat of the family car, within a few feet of our parents.

We both grew up in Cheltenham in the west of England. Although Meg was two years older than me, even at five years old I looked like the Incredible Hulk beside her. I take after my dad, a big-boned placid sandy-haired Welshman, whereas Meg is a younger version of mum, short, delicately built but with a fiery temper. With a shoulder-length mop of ginger hair, big green eyes, long pale lashes, chubby peaches-and-cream cheeks, button nose, cupid's bow mouth and dimpled chin, even at 20 she could easily have been taken for a 14-year old. At six-feet-two and with a nose broken at 16 in an unruly scrum, at 18 I looked ten years older than I was. As infants we generally got on very well but we grew apart in our teens. Meg didn't do very well in the final exam at her primary school and went on to a large mixed-sex school whereas I breezed through my exam and was admitted to a rather exclusive boys' school.

The difference in age between an 11-year-old boy and a 13-year-old girl is in reality a lot bigger than two years and we increasingly had little in common. Due to our different schools we had different sets of friends with different attitudes to life; I was a model pupil and captain of the school rugby team whereas I gathered, from whispered conversations between my parents, shouting matches between them and Meg, and the sort of company she kept, that my sister was a bit of a wild child. Her hair and clothes often stank of tobacco, she frequently stayed out late into the night and more than once she seemed bleary and hungover the following morning.

We used to go on holiday each year to Scotland, my dad driving us up there overnight. Meg and I would slump down at opposite ends of the back seat of our Range Rover, either sleeping or she listening to her personal stereo and me playing Donkey Kong on my Game Boy. At the resort we spent as little time as possible in each other's company. When she was 18, despite her rebellious nature, Meg qualified for the University of East Anglia on the other side of the country, and for two years I saw little more of her.

My 18th year was to be the last time I joined my parents for a family holiday before I departed myself for university. We expected it to be just the three of us but, to our surprise, a few days before we were due to leave Meg unexpectedly came home. She was in a foul mood, spent most of her time in her room, and said she didn't want to come on "the fucking family jaunt" and would be happy to be alone at home.

Two days before we left for Scotland, as I was going to bed I heard Meg in her room scream -- a real Hammer Horror screech of unbridled anguish -- and burst into deep wracking sobs. She sounded in genuine pain and I wondered if she had hurt herself, maybe through self-harming or something. Nervously I gently tapped on her door, fully expecting to be told to fuck off. She gasped and stifled her sobs, turning them to whimpers, but said nothing.

Feeling as if I was taking my life in my hands I opened the door a crack and whispered to ask if she was okay. Still no reply so I warily entered; Meg's bedside lamp was on and I saw she was propped up on one elbow in a sleeveless silky nightie, her face red and streaked with tears. She looked so fragile that an unfamiliar wave of compassion passed over me and I stepped forward, put down on her bedside cabinet the mug of cocoa I'd made myself, sat lightly on the very edge of her bed and asked her what was wrong. She just stared at me for a few moments then, shocking me to the core, flung herself into my arms, sobbing into my chest.

I should explain at this point that, between study and rugby, I'd never had much experience with the opposite sex. The most intimate I'd ever got was a couple of snogs and tit-gropes in dark corners at school discos shared with the girls' school down the road to ours, with girls I didn't even know. As a result, having a shuddering, attractive young female press herself to me made my jogging pants start to look like a circus big top as my cock leapt to attention, even though she was my older sister. My face was burning with embarrassment but thankfully Meg didn't seem to notice.

After a minute or so she sat back and, between taking sips of my cocoa, started to pour her heart out to me. It turned out that Meg's problem was her complicated love life. She'd slept with several fellow students, male and female, at uni before falling head over heels with one particular boy. They'd been together more than six months and talked about moving in together; then one of Meg's ex-girlfriends had suggested a threesome. Meg herself had been reluctant but her man thought it sounded fun so she went along with it to please him. In the weeks since then he'd started messing her about, making excuses not to see her and not replying to phone messages. Finally, the day before she came home he'd told her he was dumping her in favour of the other woman. Earlier this evening Meg had phoned him and begged him to give her another chance, even if she had to share him, but in the end he'd hung up on her.

I had no idea how to respond to this outpouring of misery, but I hugged her, stroked her hair and kissed her forehead when she cried, sympathised as she told me her tale, and told her more than once that she was a beautiful, smart girl and if the bloke couldn't see what he had in her he was a total dickhead who didn't deserve her. In the end we talked for about three hours and I finally got to bed around 1am, exhausted, emotionally wrung out and without even one taste of my cocoa.

The following morning I worried what sort of state Meg would be in, but when I got home from a gym session I was surprised to find her bright and cheerful, looking as if she'd had an untroubled ten hours' sleep, and helping mum prepare lunch. Both greeted me with beaming smiles and mum chirruped "Guess what Gavin? Megan's changed her mind about coming on holiday with us, isn't that great!" I smiled weakly and nodded, but I had immediate premonitions of angst-ridden phone calls, moods and gloom.

After we'd eaten we all went to get a few hours' sleep. Meg and I hadn't had a moment alone to that point, but as I headed for my room she stepped out of hers into my path. With a shy smile she said, "Thanks for last night, you're a real lifesaver Gav. Do you have a girlfriend?" Embarrassed to tell her the truth, I mumbled that I didn't at the moment. She stepped to within inches of me, rose on tiptoe, gave me a peck on the cheek and whispered, "Some girl will be fucking lucky to get a fella as sweet and sensitive as you, bro." Then she disappeared into her room again leaving me feeling stunned.

Dad's always liked doing the drive up north through the night because the motorway's very quiet then; he sometimes did night shifts in his job, so he had little problem staying awake, softly playing big band music on the car stereo throughout the trip. At 11pm we gathered outside and loaded up our luggage. Dad had a people-carrier then with seven seats and mum, opening the rear door said, "Gavin likes to lodge himself in the back so you can have the middle row Megan."

To the surprise of the rest of us Meg cheerily replied "That's okay mum, I'll keep Gav company in the back, that's okay, right bruv?" I couldn't think of a good reason to politely disagree so I tried to smile and nodded. When we departed I read by a little nightlight I'd clipped to the seat in front but, despite our afternoon naps, Meg soon dropped off to sleep. At first she rested her head against the window, but after a while she scrunched around and her head flopped onto my arm. I was okay with that and slipped my arm around her for mutual comfort, but two or three times one of her arms flopped across me, her palm resting on my crotch. I moved it away each time but, well, let's say it didn't help my concentration on my book, especially the last time when her fingers seemed to clench around my throbbing stiffy.

I was quite relieved when, at about half-past-two, we pulled into a service station for a leg-stretch and I could get some fresh air to cool me down. Dad, mum and I bought burgers at one of the fast-food stations but Meg excused herself. When we'd finished our food we bought takeaway coffee, for all four of us, and I was just about to be sent off to track my sister down when she tottered into view. Our parents had busied themselves with checking our progress in a map book but I could immediately see something wasn't right with Meg. Her pupils looked enormous and she gave off a sweet sickly smell which I guessed was a result of her having smoked wacky baccy. She gave me a silly grin and I bundled her into the back of the car and opened a window a crack before dad or mum picked up the signs.

We'd been under way again no more than a minute or so when Meg giggled, pulled my ear down to her mouth and whispered "You were dead ticklish when we were little Gav -- are you still ticklish?" I'd entirely forgotten that and nobody had tickled me for more than a decade, but we both found out. Meg's hands flashed out and her fingers started digging into my hips and belly. I snorted in surprise and wriggled as a feeling like 1000 ants crawling across my skin shot through me. She was giggling wildly and I couldn't help laughing too as I tried to fight her off, at the same time trying to shush her so our parents wouldn't hear.

As I wrestled Meg off -- I swear to this day it was a complete accident but she's always claimed not to believe me -- my hand slipped down inside the front of her jeans. It wouldn't even have been possible if she hadn't previously undone the tight waist stud and part of the zip for comfort. She was wearing silky thong panties and before I even knew it my fingertips were actually resting between the warm tops of her thighs. Of course, I instantly tried to withdraw my hand but Meg's own small hands closed tightly around my wrist, I assumed to drag me out of her pants. On the contrary though, she pushed against my attempt to retreat and actually pulled my hand a little further in. In the darkness all I could clearly see were her eyes reflecting the motorway lights; they locked on mine and she hissed "Please Gav, I need this, I'm so fucking horny."

I'd never even seen a real pussy before, let alone touched one, and I could feel Meg's heat and dampness through her undies. My face was flushing and my cock was suddenly painfully stiff. I was a randy 18-year-old virgin, and only human after all. Rationalising to myself that I was just helping my sister with something, which any nice brother would do, I relaxed my arm muscles and let her guide me. Instantly she placed her own hand over mine and began to rhythmically push my fingers against the slim wet gusset of her panties.

Meg's eyes fluttered and her head rolled back. Within moments the material slipped aside and I felt the burning skin of her pussy under my fingertips, then around my fingers as two of them slid inside her. Even though I was pretty sure our parents couldn't see us, two rows of seats back in a dark car, I had the sense to pull a handy blanket over us. I alternately squirmed my fingers around inside Meg and pulled them halfway out, drawing gasps from her as I plunged them back in. Withdrawing her hand from mine she clapped it over her mouth, gnawing at the flesh of one of her fingers. I felt her pussy muscles tightening around my fingers but I continued fucking her with them, creating a tiny squishing sound in her slick heat. Suddenly her legs stiffened and she grabbed a corner of the blanket and bit down on it hard to stifle a series of groans. Worried our parents might hear, I used my spare hand to pull my sister's head hard against my chest to muffle her. After several seconds she seemed to go limp like a ragdoll and I eased my sticky hand out of her jeans. Then one of her arms flashed around my neck, pulled my head down and she smacked her lips to mine, fiercely thrusting her tongue deep into my mouth, my first Frenchie. She slumped back, her little chest heaving and, unable to resist, I eased my fingers into my mouth and sucked her salty, spicy juice from them.

It felt as if my dick would actually snap against my jeans if I didn't free it, so I undid them and wrapped my hand around it, slowly beginning to pump. I thought Meg was still out of it but, eyes apparently closed, one of her hands reached out and brushed my fingers away then wrapped her own around my red-hot shaft. I tried to control a gasp as she began to stroke me then she leaned into me, giggled and whispered "Oh Gav, you're really my big brother aren't you." Her hand then stopped moving, just holding me, to my great disappointment, and with no stimulation my erection began to soften.

I thought that was all I was going to get from Meg, but it turned out she just wanted to prolong things a little. With her free hand she tugged at my jeans and, getting her meaning, I hurriedly lifted my bum and eased them and my underpants down to my thighs. I then watched almost in disbelief as my older sister cradled my balls in one hand, ducked her head and licked the length of my shaft, making me shudder. Then she closed her lips over the tip and sucked on it, swirling her tongue around it. She slipped her sweet lips further down my cock, until the tip tapped against the roof of her mouth, and proceeded to give me a glorious suck, pumping the bottom with one hand and using the fingertips of the other to stroke my balls. As her dangling hair tickled against my thighs I gritted my teeth, both to stifle my sighs and to try to delay the inevitable, but after probably two minutes I felt a surge of heat spin in my belly and my hips thrust at Meg's face as I jerked several shots of jizz deep into her throat. After my spasms had eased she lifted her head with a big smile and whispered "Better?" Then she snaked an arm round my neck, fell back on the seats pulling me on top of her, and gave me another kiss, this time long and languid, spreading what she hadn't swallowed of my spunk around my mouth. I found it tasted different to hers, more vanilla and less smoky,

When I sat up my head was still spinning and coloured spots were flashing in front of my eyes but almost immediately I fell into a sound sleep, my jeans and pants still around my thighs. I probably slept for an hour or so before Meg prodded me awake and, before I could make a sound, pressed a hand gently across my mouth. I saw it was already light outside and my watch told me it was a little after 5am. Meg turned my face to look at hers and mouthed "We're almost there, it's time." For a moment I thought she meant it was time to tidy myself up, but then she shuffled forward to the edge of her seat and pulled me down to lie behind her.

I wondered what she had in mind -- then I realised with a shock as she pushed her own jeans and panties down to her knees, lay in front of me and pulled the blanket over us both. She pushed back against me, her head against my chest and her warm bum pressed against my belly. She reached behind her and wrapped her hand around my cock again, and it took only seconds for her to coax me to hardness. Without any effort on my part it naturally found the edge of Meg's pussy. In shock I began to ask her if she was really sure about this, but before I could finish the sentence she ducked down her hips and slipped my first couple of inches inside her.

Almost panting with arousal I grasped her slim hips and pushed slowly but firmly until my prick was buried in my sister's pussy to the hilt. She started wiggling her hips back and forth, fucking me, and I took up the rhythm from her. Given that I'm so much bigger than her I didn't want to hurt her, but she hissed back at me "as hard and fast as you like, baby." With that encouragement I started putting all my strength into my thrusts, pulling halfway out each time then hammering back into her. I gradually rolled on top of her, and with each deep penetration Meg grunted into her arm and pushed back at me. I managed to last several minutes this time before she tightened around me and I felt her snatch flood with her juice, but she groaned back at me "Don't fucking stop" and I continued to slam into her until I came myself. We both collapsed into the seats after that and I'm not even sure whether I pulled out of her before we started to doze.

Next thing I knew my mother had opened the door beside us and was trilling "Wake up sleepy heads." We waited unto she turned her back then hurriedly pulled our clothes into order and blearily got out of the vehicle. Dad had stopped at a breakfast place near our destination and I'd never felt so hungry in my entire life, requesting seconds of almost everything. Sitting opposite Meg and me, mum turned to dad and said "You should have seen them Mike, it was so sweet, they were cuddled up together under that blanket." Meg smirked into her coffee, but I almost choked on the toast I was eating and she had to clap me on the back.

Our parents were delighted at how Meg and I had re-bonded, frequently going off together for woodland walks. Meg's wild nature asserted itself, she loved the risk of fucking up against a tree, or giving me a blowjob on a wayside bench where anyone could some along. Still, as long as it wasn't mum and dad at least they wouldn't know we were brother and sister!

That was our last family holiday, but it was only the start of my new relationship with Meg. After graduating from university she went abroad to work for a few years, and came back home with a Swiss husband in tow. But within days of her return I answered the front door of my flat one night to find my sister standing there, entirely naked under the raincoat she was wearing. Ever since then we get together once a month, as regular as clockwork, for a 24-hour fuck and suck fest, in my flat, in the local park, even in restaurant toilets and in cinemas when the mood takes Meg. Even when we go home for Christmas she loves us to screw at some point, as long as mum, dad and her family are downstairs below us. Meg and her husband have three kids, and their youngest son bears an uncanny resemblance to me. I've never married -- I've had a few girlfriends over the years, but my darling sister remains the one true love of my life.