tagIncest/TabooGarden of Eden

Garden of Eden


Like all the other kids, my baby sister Ronnie and I played doctor together when we were little, probably a little more intensely than most due to our loneliness and isolation, but it didn't get serious until that long, hot, west Texas summer when we first walked in the Garden.

One scorching June afternoon, cuddled together on a old worn-out brown army blanket in the back room of our family's restaurant, my kid sister and I accidentally discovered Eden.

People say that the Garden of Eden is guarded by an angel with a flaming sword. We found the gate guarded only by a thin white veil. When we pulled it down and started to explore, the very first person we stumbled upon was a friendly little man fast asleep in a boat. When by working hand in hand we finally managed to awaken him, he stretched, stood up tall and proud, and then showed Ronnie and me how to climb steep mountains, dance trembling on the waves of the sea, and slide down slippery slopes to lands yet undiscovered.

Still innocent newcomers, all summer long we continued our joint explorations of the incredible wonders of the Garden. Awestruck, we wandered wide-eyed for days on end through beautiful silken meadows and fresh sprouting forests. Side by side we probed hidden, secret caverns and gazed open-mouthed at warm, fragrant waterfalls flowing down like rivers of pure gold to water the thirsty valleys below.

One hot day as my sister was sampling fresh banana and kiwi fruit straight from the tree, and I was breathlessly enjoying firm, sweet blackberries, we were caught by surprise when the Fountain of Life suddenly sprang forth from the tree at the center of the Garden, with milk and honey.

At first we were puzzled and even a bit scared of its powerful flow, but by working together we quickly discovered how to draw its life-giving waters. Eventually we both drank deeply from it, me out of curiosity, she again and again out of sheer enchantment. It was a summer of bliss in an enchanted land.

We had thrilling adventures, races between our friend the boatman and his much larger opponent, races which, in spite of his size disadvantage, the brave and strong little boatman always seemed to win. There were even fierce swordfights between the two, mock combats which almost always ended up with both sides surrendering in heroic embrace. By the time we started school again after Labor Day, Doctor Livingston I Presume, Emilia Earhart and Indiana Jones had nothing over us except pith-helmets. My kid sister and I were world-class explorers.

But when Ma unexpectedly walked into the storage room of the restaurant one fall day after school and discovered her two kids all dressed up in rawhide, saddled and ready to ride into the west Texas sunset, we expected dire punishment. However, all she did was tell us to get decent. Then she called Ronnie aside and explained about the birds, the bees and the rubber trees. I guess she told dad too, but he never mentioned anything. In his culture, there are some things you just don't talk about out loud.

In any case, we kids were way too embarrassed to ever try anything like THAT again. All through school my adventuring was of a more pedestrian sort, limited to training for wrestling matches and then getting pinned to the mat, warming third chair in the school concert band, and ace'ing Mr. Garcia's AP history class. No more swordfights, damp caverns or perfumed waterfalls for me, and my best girlfriend had only five fingers.

My Khmer name is Oudum, but everyone calls me Adam. My kid sister, who's nine months younger than me, is Ronny. (Rathani, her Khmer name, means Jewel). We were always in the same grade since kindergarten. Everyone thinks she's anorexic because she's always been underweight and thin as a rail, and even up to now has no curves at all. But she eats like a horse and is as healthy as one, too. The doctor said it was just the effects of a poor diet in her first couple of years before we came to the States, plus a fast metabolism and our Khmer blood. The doctor told her she'd probably live to 120.

As a child she always preferred toy cars to dolls, and all through high school she cut her straight, jet-black hair short, wore boy clothes, and avoided girl-cliques. Except for a couple of gay guys who were her best friends and always hung out with her at school, the teenaged boys stayed away from her in droves. There were even rumors she was a lesbian, but the fact was that she gave an equal-opportunity cold shoulder to almost everyone else, gay and straight.

As the only two Asian kids in a small Texas Panhandle town, we were pretty isolated. The Black kids figured we were Chinese and teased us with ching-chong taunts, the Latino kids ignored us when they found out that in spite of our rich bronze complexions we didn't speak Spanish, and the White kids figured we were ugly colored kids with funny eyes and had no time for us. I was way too small for the Panhandle god-sport, high school football, so I went out for wrestling instead. But I was shorter and thinner than the others and never won a single match. Ronnie went out for the swim team and even won a couple of medals, which our parents display in a case, like holy relics.

Ronnie and I remained unusually close, and once, only once, on a late-night sophomore band bus to Austin, we shared a stolen, hungry kiss and wordlessly decided to revisit our secret Garden, which by now was wild and overgrown. The Band Coach and the Chaperone in the seat across the aisle were busily exchanging saliva and exploring mountains and jungles of their own, and slouched down in our bus seats, safe under our shared blanket, nobody could tell how far and wide we were roaming.

Before our breakfast stop, we had managed to reawaken the little boatman and his big friend, and found that both had now grown as much as we had. To our joy, we also found that the Waters of Life now flowed even more freely from their secret fountains in the deep than they had so long ago.

But that rare opportunity never happened again. Life settled into boredom: Every day after school we did homework and worked for our allowance and tips at the restaurant, and either Ma or Dad was always at home when we were. The storeroom was now padlocked. For obvious reasons we never had any dates in school, and Ronnie and I spent our senior prom working side by side as volunteers behind the snack bar.

After having strolled through the Garden of Eden, the plains of west Texas were pretty damn plain by comparison.

I turned eighteen in early September of my senior year. Ronnie's eighteenth was in June, three weeks after our graduation day. After high school, Dad wanted us to work in the restaurant full time, but Ma reminded him that they had come to the States to make a better life for us kids, not so we could steam Spring Rolls and serve bowls of Nuoc Mam to diners for the rest of our lives. I was kind of hoping to get into UT Austin, Texas A&M or some other school where I could finally date and fuck some girls who wouldn't recoil at the sight of my eyes and skin tone, but even with financial aid, the best we could do was Black Angus State College, Stafford, Texas, a hundred miles north of where we live.

Black Angus, whose football team is the Horny Toads, has more on-campus cattle pens than dorm rooms, so Ma agreed to dip into her personal savings to get us a furnished studio flat in an off-campus student apartment complex. The complex had a pool and everything. The place was clean and had a private bath. The bedroom was just barely wide enough to contain its single queen-sized bed. When we went to see the place, with Ma in tow, she apologized profusely that it was all she could afford, but Ronnie and I took one look at it and answered in unison, "Mom, it's cool! We love it."

We moved in a week before classes. Once we hauled in our stuff in and Ma left, we finally had enough time to take a break and check out the apartment swimming pool. There were already several other students hanging around the complex and a few were in the pool when I got there. I waited poolside for Ronnie, who was up in the apartment reassuring Ma on the cell phone that we were OK.

When my sister finally came down, my jaw hit the floor. Was this the little sister I knew, the one who wore checked shirts, utility jeans and work boots to school every day? On her narrow, boyish hips was painted the tightest, silkiest bikini bottom I had ever seen, so tight on her crotch that nobody would ever bother to ask her (as so many did in high school) whether she was really a guy in drag.

Across her chest, covering her nipples and non-existent boobs, she had on a simple, tight, two inch wide brown elastic band. "You like?" she asked. "Hot diggity dog dang, baby sister!" I gasped.

"One of these days I'm gonna wear a boy-suit in the pool and nobody will notice!" she laughed. "But I don' have any unit up front, so I'm gonna have to stuff something in the crotch!" I looked at her crotch and agreed. And looked some more. And some more. And I couldn't move my eyes away.

Her silky-thin suit bottom was almost the same color as her coffee brown skin. The last time I had seen her without any clothes on was when we were children, and though her waiflike boyish figure had not developed much since then, her childish innocence had turned into young womanhood. The sight of my sister's small body almost nude in front of me made my cock stiffen in my trunks, so to avoid embarrassment I plunged into the cold water of the pool. So did she.

In water her figure, or lack of same, lets her swim like a fish. We splashed in the pool for probably half an hour, and I think her chest-band slipped down at least twice, but nobody but she and I even noticed or cared.

In west Texas the air is so dry that even at 100 degrees it feels cold when you come out of the water, so when we were done swimming and chilled to the bone, Ronnie and I raced together up to the apartment. I had the key on a cord around my neck so I let us in and locked the door. Coming in from the bright, Texas sun, we were alone together in the dark for the first time in a long, long time.. And shivering. "Warm me up, Adam" she whispered.

I took my little sister's smaller, chilled body in my arms and held her close until she stopped shivering. As we embraced our lips met and our tongues danced in passion. My cock went to attention.

When we came up for air, my sister pulled away and said, "Hey, I need it too, but let's take this slow! We have all day. And all night. And all semester! Maybe all our lives!"

In the bedroom she slipped off her chest band and tossed it on the bed. My kid sister's chest was flatter than mine. I could see her ribs, but her exquisite black nipples stood out proudly like two sweet berries against her rich brown skin.

But before I could put my hand out to touch them, she rubbed her hands over her nipples and said, "Damn, that thing is uncomfortable! Fuckin' prudes! Why don't YOU have to wear one when you swim?" I had never heard her use a cuss-word before, so it sounded exciting from her lips.

"Hey, we gotta take a shower first to get the chlorine off, or else we'll be itching like dogs," I told her.

"First before what?" she asked flirtatiously.

"I dunno," I responded, licking my lips. "Maybe hot dogs and buns. Last one in the shower is a rotten egg!"

In the tiny apartment bathroom there was barely room for two people to turn around. I looked at her closely and lustfully, and asked, "Hey, what's that?" It was like a little baby's finger about an inch long, tenting out the silken fabric at her crotch.

"You, of all people should know, big brother!" she taunted me.

"Can I touch it?" I asked.

"Please do!" she breathed.

I put my finger to the thin, now dry fabric at my sister's crotch and felt the rock-hard protrusion of her girl/boy clitoris, fully engorged. I played around with it for a moment, and then, with her help, pulled down her suit bottom and gazed at my own younger sister's pussy in all its glory for the first time since we were children.

"When we were kids, I thought that was how all girls were," I told her without switching my gaze.

"So did I!" she responded. "'Till the time after a Junior High swim match, when I accidentally got, ah, you know, uh, a hard on in the shower room."

I cringed, remembering my own acute embarrassment in freshman gym class.

My sister frowned. "One of the girls saw it and shrieked that I was really a boy, and everyone else either covered themselves up with towels or came over to stare at me!" she told me. "After that, all the girls said I had a cock or that I was really a guy in a girl's body. The straight girls told their boyfriends and in a couple of days it was all over the school. Luci and Tanisha were crazy to get into my pants, but even though their fingers were great, I decided I'm not that much into pussy."

"Finally, even the school nurse knew about it," my sister complained. "She called me in and told me, 'Rathani dear, being a transsexual is nothing to be ashamed about.' She wanted to examine me down there, probably to get turned on, but I told her politely to fuck off and mind her own business."

I hugged my sister and we joined our lips together again, more slowly and sensually. "Did you come when those girls touched you? I asked. She nodded.

"Ronnie, you're so beautiful!" I told her. "I'm so glad you're my own sister. Otherwise I might never have found you."

"Or pulled down my panties," she kidded.

"You're the most awesome girl in the world," I told her. "You've got things that no other girl, no other woman, has, and that's so incredibly fantastic."

"Please touch my thing, Adam. Play with it!" she whispered to me.

I lowered my face to my sister's crotch and put my lips around the head of her small, pink erection. As I sucked it, her natural female sex aroma overwhelmed my nostrils.

With my finger I diddled the thin shaft of her erect girl-penis, and almost immediately, with a violent spasm, my sister's pussy squirted a load of girl-cum onto my face and into my mouth as she climaxed explosively. In her orgasmic frenzy she grabbed my head and pushed it into her soaking pussy. Spasms passed through her body again and again as my kid sister humped my face and I teased her boy-clitty with my tongue.

I was rock hard and wanted to fuck my sister right then and there, but as her spasm subsided she had a different idea. "Let me drink from the fountain like you just did," she pleaded.

I stood up and leaned back on the bluish-grey plastic wall of the small shower stall. She bent down and took my hard brown cock between her lips. It was only seconds before I exploded and emptied spurt after spurt of hot, white cum into my little sister's waiting mouth. She caught most of it and swallowed it.

My knees were weak and I sank to the floor of the shower-stall. After wiping her face, she told me, "Even better than I remember! Good to the last drop! I truly believe Mother Nature originally intended for me to be a gay guy, but she goofed!"

"I'm glad she did," I told Ronnie with another kiss. I could taste my own fresh cum on her sensuously delicate brown lips.

"Hey, let's shower," she told me," and get this damn chlorine off us. I'm already itching. We just had hot dogs with mayo for snack, so let's go out and grab something solid for supper. It'll give us energy. I'm starving, and big brother and little sister have some serious fucking to do tonight. I don't want your cock out of my pussy until dawn!"

I turned on the water. "But what if you get pregnant? What if Ma and Dad find out?" I asked her as I rubbed soap onto my sister's flat chest.

"Ma's no fool," she told me. "She had the lady-doctor check me out the day after she busted us in the back room. I have my periods every month, and the doctor says I can get pregnant and nurse a baby just as easy as any other woman. She put me on the pill this year just as soon as I told her had a boyfriend and I was wanting to become sexually active. I didn't tell her it was my own big brother, of course."

Ronnie gave me another butterfly kiss on my lips. "And Ma? She's the one who found us this little one-bedroom apartment, and even listed our Khmer names on the lease instead of our American names so that our last names look different. You and I can fuck our heads off and nobody's even gonna know we're brother and sister."

"It's not our heads I'm worried about," I laughed, waving my flaccid cock at her.

After we dried each other off, we walked together naked into the bedroom. She pointed to the head of the bed. Reluctantly taking my eyes off her delicious nipples and luxuriant, silky bush, I gazed at the two pillows. On each pillow lay a single fresh cut rose. "Ma left them for us," my sister said with a smile.

"What about Dad?" I asked. "What was that he told us just before we left?"

Ronnie smiled even more broadly. "Adam, you didn't recognize it?" Her Khmer is more fluent than mine. "It's a verse invoking good karma for newlyweds as they leave on their honeymoon. And maybe it's like wearing a belt and suspenders, but as we were getting into the car, he pressed a little red gift box into my hand. I opened it on the way. It was condoms."

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