Time Heals All

It had been a long time. Years. Seeing her again would not be easy. They had never really been close. Even growing up. They'd had their differences; so many that the last few times they had been together hadn't ended well. Now, they were forced to be together again.

For their mother's funeral.

She had passed unexpectedly. He had visited her a few months ago—not at the same time as his sister. Over the last few years, he'd made certain that his trips did not coincide with his hers. He knew it upset his mother that she could not have her two children at home together at the same time. But he also knew it was for the best.

Both he and his sister had repeatedly attempted to convince their mother to come live with each them. But she had always refused. She was born in this little town, lived all her life here, had raised her children here, and had no desire to leave. Fortunately, she had many friends, so even though both of her children had moved away to big cities, she was not entirely alone.

The evidence of this as Steve entered the funeral home was the many people that crowded the small viewing parlor, quite possibly most of the town. Taking a deep breath, he scanned the room for his sister, Stella, but he didn't see her. He did notice the woman standing before the open casket. He didn't care for open coffins, preferring to remember the deceased as he known them in life and not laid out in a box. The woman was quite a vision from the rear in a form-fitting, short black dress that revealed a pair of shapely legs.

Shaking his head to clear it from the needed distraction, Steve took a deep breath and headed toward the coffin. He concentrated his attention on his mother rather than the woman, and as he sadly looked at the parent who had meant so much to him, he was completely taken by surprise when the lady in black threw her arms around him and hugged tightly. It took a few seconds for him to realize that this was Stella.

Well, that was nowhere near the greeting he expected.

Stella was obviously emotional, so he allowed her a few minutes to embrace, even hugging her back. It was actually comforting.

"I was worried you weren't going to make it," Stella said with a whimper.

"Sorry, my plane was delayed."

Finally, she stepped back, and it was like seeing her for the first time.

"Stella, you look amazing!" Had it been so long that he'd forgotten how beautiful she was? Or had she done something to herself to enhance her looks? And then there was her boobs—had they always been on the large side?

Wiping a tear from her eye, Stella forced a smile. "Thanks. You're looking pretty good yourself." Taking his hand, she led him to a couple of nearby chairs that had been set up for the two of them near the casket so people could pass by to pay their respect. As they sat, she never let go of his hand.

She must really be distraught, Steve thought, to be hanging on to him. Had time healed all? There was a constant flow of people who stopped to offer condolences, and though they all meant well, it quickly became tedious. Finally, it was time for the service. It was sad, to be sure, and the procession and burial that followed were not any easier. And then it was all over. Or was it? They were informed that food and beverages had been brought to their mother's house for a small reception. So, they had to endure a couple more hours of people trying to be nice and telling all their fond stories of their mother.

Their next-door neighbor, Susan, whom Steve had dated in high school approached him during the reception to offer her condolences. They'd ended it when he went off to college, some said because she had gotten too serious with him. Every time he came home for a visit, she suggested they get together; every time he considered doing so, but never did. Today was no different, except that this time her suggestion seemed to be laced with sexual implication.

During all the time they were together on this sorrowful day, Steve and Stella had been tolerant of each other, polite, kind, like there had never been any ill between them. And then, the time came that they were alone.

Stella was sitting in their mother's chair with Steve on the sofa across from her. She actually resembled their mom. The siblings merely stared at one another. For Steve, his silence was due to the awe he felt over Stella's looks. He just couldn't get over how incredible she appeared. He'd been stealing glances at her all day. Her cleavage out of the top of the low-cut dress was eye-catching, as were her legs from the short length of the dress. She had reclined the easy chair which caused her dress to ride up showing considerable thigh, but she did nothing to correct it.

Finally, Stella said, "Thank you so much for coming."

"Not sure how to take that," Steve said, keeping his voice even. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

"Oh, no, no, I didn't mean that. I just meant it was comforting having you here, being with you."

Steve hadn't expected that. He didn't know how to take it. Perhaps a similar response was required. But thinking about the answer he was going to give; it was actually true. "Yeah. It was comforting with you, also."

"Are you just saying that?"

"No, I really mean it."

Stella smiled. "Okay. It's just that you keep looking at me strangely."

"I just can't get over how great you look. Did you change something, or has it just been so long?"

Stella merely returned a grimace.

Then, it occurred to Steve. "Where's Dave?" Her husband.

Looking down as though to hide something, Stella said, "Yeah, he obviously didn't come."

"Work conflict?"

As though embarrassed, Stella said, "Actually, things have not been all that good between us. I wanted to come alone. Might even stay here a while."

"Oh, sis, I'm so sorry." Steve really meant it.

She merely shrugged. "Not sure I am."

"Are you going to divorce him?"

Again, she shrugged. "I don't know yet. That's why I need some time alone."

He nodded.

"I think I need another glass of wine."

"I'll get it for you."

"No, no," she said, rising. "Stay seated. I'll get it. You want some?"

"Sure."

The kitchen was right next to the family room. Steve watched as his sister got up from the chair apparently unconcerned about her dress, what she showed or what she did. He found that curious. She stepped out of her heels and walked into the kitchen. He could see the counter on which the bottles of wine were sitting, and he continued to watch as she poured two glasses. Before carrying them back, Stella raised her skirt up with one hand to scratch an itch on her thigh, again with no regard to his presence.

When Stella returned and handed him a glass of red wine, she sat on the sofa beside him very close. "So, how long can you stay?"

He shrugged. "How long do you want me to stay?" But before she could respond, he added, "To be truthful, today did not go as I expected."

"You mean between us?"

"Yes."

"What did you expect?" She drew her legs up onto the sofa and bent them toward him. Once more, the hem of her dress rose high and she did nothing to fix it.

Steve wondered if her display of herself was really to disarm him. "I don't really know. I guess I was prepared for anything."

"Given the last few times we were together?"

"Right."

Placing a hand on his leg, Stella said, "I don't want to fight with you, Steve. I'm not sure I ever really did, so by the same token, I'm not really sure what we always disagreed on or why." She shrugged. "Now, with mom gone, whatever it was before just no longer seems important. Besides, we're the only family each other has left."

Steve nodded his agreement. "This have anything to do with your failing marriage?"

She bobbed her head to the side. "Maybe a little. Regardless, what do you say? Can we bury the hatchet?"

He gazed into her beautiful eyes, saw the sincerity. Beyond that, he was so mesmerized he could agree to just about anything. "I'm willing to try."

With a big smile, Stella leaned in to kiss him . . . on the lips, and not very sisterly. It was quite nice, and a little arousing. He even felt that it could have gone on. But he didn't know if that thinking was the result of his sudden infatuation with her or if it was real. Playing it safe, he pulled back.

Her smile returning, she took a healthy sip of wine. He felt the need to do the same.

"You never did answer me about your looks," Steve reminded.

With raised eyebrows and a tilt of her head, Stella explained, "I thought maybe if could make myself a little more desirable the marriage might improve. I cut my hair a little, added highlights, did a lot of exercise to tone my body and legs." She grinned. "The tits were always there, just never showed them off as much."

"I'm guessing it didn't help," Steve surmised.

"Not with Dave. But it made me feel a lot better about myself. Men were giving me second looks." She smirked. "Like you've been doing."

"Sorry. I just can't get over how good you really look."

"No need to be sorry. I'm glad you like it. How much has it contributed to you agreeing to bury the hatchet?"

"Well, it didn't hurt. But as you said, I don't know why we had the differences we had. Maybe we've just matured. I feel bad that we've come to this understanding and mom will never know."

"She'll know."

He nodded.

"So, will you stay and help go through the house?"

"Yeah, I can stay for a few days."

"Great." She downed the remainder of her glass. "More?"

"No, I'm very tired. It's been a long, stressful day. I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Oh. Okay."

There was obvious disappointment in her voice, and a look in her eyes that he was certain he was reading incorrectly. Her beauty was clouding his mind and he knew he was seeing something alluring that wasn't there. And she was his sister. Even more reason to go to bed. When he stood, she got up also.

"Well, goodnight," he offered.

"Goodnight," Stella returned, throwing her arms around him, pressing her body to his.

Steve's eyes went wide. What was she doing? With her breasts against his chest, and even through the material of their clothes he could feel her hard nipples, so surely, she could feel his erection. He tried to ease his crotch back, but she maintained a strong grip. Finally, he couldn't take it any longer and removed her arms from around him. Now, he couldn't read the expression on her face.

"See you in the morning." He hurried off to his old bedroom.

* * *

Shaking her head once Steve was gone, Stella had to question what she had been doing, throwing herself at a brother whom she'd never been close with. He had claimed to be seeing a new her. But likewise, she was seeing a different man. Oh, he looked the same. He hadn't changed his appearance as she had, yet she sensed that he was not the same brother she'd fought and disagreed with in the past. He seemed to be calmer, more understanding. Mellow.

Still, he was her brother and she'd gotten carried away with his attention to her. It was time for bed.

However, slumber did not come. Among the many reasons was her bedroom was in the front of the house on a fairly busy street. Cars constantly passing kept her awake. As tired as she was, the other issues—her marriage, her mother, work—would not have kept her up. She could go sleep in her mother's bed in the rear of the house. But that would be creepy. Did she dare?

Without further thought, particularly to the short kimono robe she wore with nothing underneath, she tiptoed the few feet to Steve's room.

* * *

Likewise for Steve, sleep evaded him. The primary reason was the aching hard-on he had from ogling over his sister—of all people—all day and evening. He knew he had to do something about it if he wanted any rest. Reaching over to the night table, he pulled out several sheets of tissue and shoved his shorts down below his crotch. Lifting his cock, he set the tissue down on his abdomen, and tugged quickly on his swollen rod. He tried to envision his sister naked to aid in the fantasy. As pleasing a vision as it was, it was instantly erased by a soft knock on his door.

Quickly repairing himself, he answered, "Yes."

Stella opened the door and was silhouetted by a lamp on in her room. The short robe made his dick pulse, but fortunately the darkness and covers prevented her from seeing.

"I can't sleep," she whispered, as though she might wake someone.

"I'm sorry."

"Too much traffic outside."

"Go to mom's room."

He couldn't see her grimace. "That's too creepy."

"Okay. Uh, what can I . . . want to swap rooms?"

"Uh, well, I, uh, I really don't want to be alone," she said slowly, apprehensively. "Can I sleep with you?"

Just what he didn't need. "Seriously?"

"I'm sorry. It's just weird being in the house without . . . Please? Just tonight."

Well, she was right about that. Could he really turn her down? "Okay."

She walked to the side of the bed opposite the one he was lying on and merely stood there for a few seconds. "I'm really sorry. But thanks."

"No worries."

Stella tugged her robe down a bit and secured the flaps a little tighter. "I should have brought more to sleep in, but I thought I'd be sleeping alone."

He didn't know if she saw him nod.

She then quickly climbed under the covers. "Good night." And she closed her eyes.

"Night." Enough light streamed in from her room that he could see her fairly well. He halfway expected her to start talking, but she really seemed to be going to sleep. He wondered if she really was or if she was just trying not to disturb him. However, her steady breathing seemed to comply with slumber.

Strangely, as tired as he thought he was, Steve could not tear his eyes away from his sister. Even in the dim light she was gorgeous. He had to keep asking himself if the changes she'd made to herself were really that radical or why hadn't he noticed how beautiful she was. Had their fighting and disagreements masked all of that?

Gently, he turned on his side facing her. The movement caused the sheet to drag below her breasts. The flaps of the robe had separated showing bare chest, but not exposing her tits. He tugged the covers down slowly a couple of inches. She squirmed, but did not awaken, and that movement had the flap of her robe fall away exposing the boob nearest him.

Steve sucked in his breath at the wondrous sight. He'd seen his share of tits, but this one was simply amazing. Was it really or because of whom it belonged to?

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Steve attempted to pull the covers down further. However, the movement caused her to turn onto her side away from. He cursed his impatience. That is, until he saw what was now revealed. Her repositioning had dragged the covers down further revealing her beautiful bare ass.

Once more, Steve inhaled sharply. He couldn't help himself tugging on the covers until he could see a bit of pussy. Mindlessly, but tenderly, he placed his palm on her buttock. He felt a bit of pre-cum ooze from his dick. With no thought of him possibly awakening her, he let his middle finger ease down her crack between her legs until it made contact with her pussy. Neither could he refrain from rubbing.

Stella moaned softly, and the more he fingered her the more she moaned. Steve knew he was tempting fate when he slid his finger inside her hole. She was still emitting pleasurable sounds, but she also squirmed slightly, so he quickly withdrew his moistened finger. Perversely, he tasted his digit.

When she was still again, he returned his hand between her legs and rubbed his cock with the other. But he could take it no longer. Lying down again on his back, Steve pushed his shorts below his scrotum, licked his hand a few times and stroked his cock. He got carried away pumping his hips, and the rocking of the bed caused Stella to turn over.

"Uh-oh," he fearfully said, stuffing his dick back in his shorts.

"What are you doing?" Stella asked with a grin.

"Uh, uh—"

"Were you just jerking off next to me?"

"Uh, uh, well, you know, watching you all day . . ." he trailed off, mumbling.

Leaning upon one arm, Stella smiled warmly. "I could do it for you, if you want."

"What?"

"You heard me." Without another word, she pulled his shorts back down enough to expose his cock. "Wow! That's quite a tool you have there." Wrapping her fingers around his shaft, she leaned over and dribbled saliva on the head, then used her hand to lube the entire rod.

Eeeuuuuhhhh," Steve whimpered. In his wildest fantasies—not that he'd had any before today about his sister—he'd never imagined her giving him a handjob.

Stella touched her lips to the head and his eyes widened at the thought of her taking him into her mouth. But sadly, she only allowed more spit to drip down his cock. Again, she coated it as she stroked, and then applied one more dollop of saliva. "You okay?" she whispered sensually.

"Yeah," he softly responded. "I just never in my horniest dreams expected this."

"Yeah? You like it?"

"Of course!"

"Then you're really going to love this." Stella opened her mouth and took about two inches of his cock into it. She went up and down a few times, and then twisted her head from side to side with her elevator movement.

A sound that was as high a pitch as Steve's throat could make and just as unintelligible escaped.

Stopping for a second, Stella turned to her brother and said, "It's been so fucking long."

He wasn't certain if that was a reference to her's and his relationship or how long it had been since she'd done anything with her husband. He rather leaned toward the latter. Regardless, she was good. The fact this she was his sister doing this added to the quality of it. He wondered if this talent was another she had honed to attempt to save her marriage. However, Steve was selfishly not remorseful that he was a benefactor. He could only close his eyes and relish the incredible feelings and emotions that occurred.

Saliva drooled from her mouth down his shaft and onto his scrotum. It was messy and sloppy, and it was magnificent. His balls instantly started churning, his toes tingling. His ass puckered and his muscles tensed.

"Come on, brother."

And that was all he needed to erupt in her mouth. He wanted to watch her face as she swallowed the massive load, but his head felt like it would explode and all he could do was lie back with his eyes closed to enjoy what was probably the best orgasm he had ever had. He felt more warm liquid roll down his shaft and coat his abdomen, suggesting that she couldn't ingest it all. Not that it mattered. It was still fantastic.

Steve looked up to see her licking her lips and she was smiling.

"I'll get you a towel." Stella got out of bed and walked to the bathroom that was in between their bedrooms. She wiped her face and used her cupped hand to take a drink of faucet water to wash down the salty taste. And then she stared at herself in the mirror wondering what the hell had possessed her to do such a thing. Of course, it had been a while. She'd never really cared for blowjobs, and again, only taught herself to be skilled at it for her husband. But he didn't seem to appreciate it. However, oddly enough, there was something she had enjoyed about sucking her brother, wrong though it was.

Snapping out of it, Stella returned to the bedroom. In the time she'd been musing in the mirror, Steve had fallen asleep. She smiled. It used to make her angry when her husband drifted off like that. But with her brother, it was kind of cute. Besides, she knew how tired he had been. The blowjob probably just relaxed him enough to fall asleep. He hadn't pulled his shorts back up, nor had the huge amount of semen he had discharged dried, so she tenderly blotted the gooey mess, admiring his masculine form as she did so. He had a much nicer physique than Dave, not to mention a much larger cock. She bet that really felt good.