It's funny, but had it not been for the fall of communism, I would never have fucked my sister. In 1991, when democracy came to the eastern European country where my father was born, he decided to take us - me, my mother and my sister Mandy back there. The plan was for the four of us spent two weeks there, visiting relatives and exploring the country a bit. Then Mandy and I would fly London where we would stay for a couple of weeks before returning home.
Mandy was 23 at the time of the trip (eight years younger than me). Always pretty as a girl, she had grown into a beautiful young woman. She had thick, honey blonde hair which she kept cut fairly short, blue eyes and pale, perfect skin. She was always immaculately dressed, favouring clothing from the fifties (her apartment was furnished in fifties style as well). She also wore gold rimmed glasses, which I thought really suited her and made her look even more sophisticated. I was proud to have such an attractive sister.
The trip was the longest time I had spent with Mandy since I had left home in my early twenties. As it progressed, I became more and more entranced by my sister. I found myself gazing at her when she wasn't looking, admiring her slender, small breasted figure, wondering what she looked like naked. One day, finding myself alone in the room in an aunt's house which the four of had been given to sleep in, I found a pair of her panties in a bag of dirty washing and sniffed the crotch, getting a faint smell of cunt.
Arriving at the home of another relative of my father's, Mandy and I were given a room with a double bed to share. All day, the thought that I would be sleeping next to her that night hovered tantalisingly in my brain.
After a typical late night spent eating and drinking with the relatives, Mandy stood up and said she was going to bed. I said I would too. I went into the room we had been given, stripped down to T-shirt and underpants, got into bed and picked up a book. Mandy came in from the bathroom a few minutes later wearing a pair of green silk pajamas. She got into bed next to me. We talked jokingly for a little while about the day's events and the endless eccentricity of our European relatives, and then I turned the light off.
Mandy and I lay in bed with our backs to each other, so close I could feel the warmth of her body. My mind was a mass of conflicting emotions. How wonderful it would be to kiss my sister, to make love to her. But the idea was frightening too, and I felt a bit ashamed thinking about it. I wondered if she ever had similar thoughts about me. I knew she liked me, but did she like me in that way? Sex was one thing we had never really discussed.
Eventually I fell into a fitful sleep, and had confused dreams about turning over and embracing Mandy, touching her and starting to have sex with her, but something would happen and I would stop, then wake up in a sweat, then drift off again and have the same dream all over again. I got very little sleep that night.
As planned, Mandy and I took leave of our parents and caught a plane to London. We found a little apartment to stay in, a small room with two single beds, a cabinet, a TV set and not much else. This was Mandy's first trip to London and we spent the next few days doing the typical tourist things.
I knew a few people in London, including a girl called Justine whom I had worked with and had a brief affair with the previous year. We met up with Justine one afternoon for a few pints in her local pub, and she invited us to a party she was having the following Saturday.
When we arrived at Justine's flat at nine o'clock on Saturday night, there were about twenty people already there. The bathtub was full of bottles of beer and wine, and everybody was having a good time. Mandy doesn't usually drink much, and I've only ever seen her drunk on a couple of occasions, but she was getting quite tipsy on champagne. She was wearing a French-style, striped cotton, round-necked shirt and a short blue skirt, and looked lovely.
Towards the end of the evening, Mandy I were sitting at the kitchen table, both fairly plastered, talking about our childhood. At one point she told me how upset she had been when I left home - she had cried for two nights she said. I thought that was very sweet and I put my arms around her and gave her a hug. My lips brushed against her hair and I could smell the perfume she was wearing. It felt good holding her like that.
Things get a little hazy after that, but perhaps an hour later we stumbled out the front door and down the street, heading for a mini-cab office that Justine had told us about. Mandy was walking, looking up at the stars - it was a very clear night, and tripped, but I managed to catch her in my arms. I'll never quite know how it happened now, but the next thing I knew I was kissing her - and she was kissing me back! For minutes I was lost in a revery as our tongues met. My hand moved instinctively under the leather coat she was wearing and cupped her small round breast - I could feel the lace of the bra cup through the cotton material of her shirt.
The reality of what we were doing hit both of us, I think, at the same time. We stopped kissing and looked at each other. My heart was beating fast and I'm sure Mandy's was as well. Her blue eyes were wide open. "What's happening?" she whispered.
"I don't know," I said. But we kept embracing.
After kissing again briefly we continued on our way to the mini-cab office, and caught a cab back to our apartment. We sat in the back of the cab, my arm around Mandy's narrow shoulders, and didn't say a word for the twenty minutes of so that the journey took.
Reaching our destination, I paid the driver and we caught the rickety lift up our floor. As we were going up in it Mandy wasn't looking at me. I unlocked the door and Mandy walked into the apartment, which was pleasantly warm from the central heating. She took off her coat and hung it on the hook behind the front door and I did the same with mine. She sat down at the end of the bed. I went and sat down next to her.
She looked at me. Her cheeks were flushed. "Well," she said, "What happens now?"
"What do you want to happen now?" I asked.
I didn't give her a chance to answer though. Putting my arms around her, I began to kiss her again. My hands moved under her shirt and I felt the smooth skin on her back, her thin shoulder blades and the strap of her bra. "I love you," I said.
"Oh God, I love you too," she said. "I want you to have me."
I stopped kissing her, sat back and looked at her. "You're so bloody beautiful," I said. "I've always thought so. Let me see you. I want to see your body." I took hold of her striped shirt at the sides. Mandy raised her arms and I slipped the shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. Reaching behind her, she unhooked the white lace bra she was wearing and slipped it off. I gazed at my sister's little, pink nippled breasts. They looked so lovely I could have wept.
I stood up. Despite the amount I'd had to drink that night, my cock was hard. I wanted Mandy to see it. I undid my belt, unzipped my jeans and pulled them down. Mandy stared at my crotch. I pulled my underpants down and my cock sprang out, pointing at her. "Oh, hello," she said quietly. "Hello, my brother's dick. I've wondered what you look like." She touched it tentatively with one finger, then took hold of it and kissed the tip of it, and began to suck it. I almost came then and there.
Pushing her back onto the bed I lifted up her skirt. She was wearing white panties that matched her bra, and with one quick, continuous movement I slid them down and off. I fell to my knees and gazed rapturously at Mandy's cunt. Her pubic hair was a dark blonde colour and neatly trimmed, and her labia were puffy and coral pink and, I could see, glistening with wetness. Without thinking I buried my face in her cunt, pushing my tongue into her moist slit, loving the taste of her.
I was unable to hold back any longer. Positioning her so she was lying straight on the bed I got on top of her and pressed the head of my cock against her cunt. She was very tight, I found, but eventually I was inside her. She lay with her arms thrown back, a look almost of shock on her face, as I began to fuck her. Then she began to moan. I fucked her harder, my cock pounding into her, and I could tell she was about to come. I couldn't last any longer, and let out a groan as my sperm spurted into her.
I lay down beside her, my arms around her. Soon we were kissing again. I kissed down to her pussy, and Mandy took hold of my cock and began to suck it again. We stayed in a 69 position for perhaps twenty minutes, entirely absorbed in each other's genitalia until, exhausted, we lay in each other's arms and went to sleep.
When I woke up the next morning Mandy was already awake and looking at me. "I've been lying here just thinking about it," she said, shaking her head. "I can't believe we did that last night. What were we thinking? What would Mum and Dad say?"
"It doesn't matter. They'll never know." I gave her a kiss on the lips. I could feel her trembling. She looked so beautiful. I desperately wanted to fuck her again.
"This is wrong, isn't it?" she said.
"I don't see anything wrong with it. We're not hurting anyone. You're my beautiful sister, and I love you, and I've wanted to fuck you for ages." I put my hand to one of her breasts - the nipple was hard as a marble. I rolled it between thumb and forefinger. Mandy sighed, closing her eyes, enjoying my touch.
My cock was hard and I placed one of Mandy's hands on it. She grasped it firmly and began to jerk it. I lay on my back and, pulling Mandy on top of me, slid my cock into her. As I fucked her, I cupped her round, firm little buttocks in my hands. At one point, I slid my middle finger into her tight arsehole, which made her sigh.
Afterwards, we went out and had breakfast in a nearby café, and stared at each other across the table, and took in the amazing fact that we had become lovers.
We had another week left in London. We still went out to see the sights a bit, and took to kissing a lot in public. We'd stand in a crowded street, embracing passionately, and I'd wonder what the people milling around us would think if they knew we were brother and sister. But most of the time we stayed in our room. In a strange way, we reverted back to being kids, talking in the secret language we had once used. We spent much of the time naked, and Mandy seemed totally fascinated with my cock and balls. She loved to play with them and even, at one stage, made a drawing of them.
One night, Mandy suggested we have a bath together. Because of the disparity in our ages, we had never done this as kids. I thought it was a great idea. I filled the bath with water and Mandy removed her panties, the only thing she had been wearing, and got in. I got in after her and, picking up the soap, began to soap her tits and armpits, then felt her cunt underwater. She sat back against the end of the bath while I masturbated her until she came. Then she returned the favour, soaping my cock and balls and massaging them with both hands. She had become an expert at giving me a hand-job and I came with a shuddering orgasm, my sperm splashing onto her lovely chest.
When we were finished we stepped out of the bath and dried ourselves with towels. I needed to piss and walked over to the toilet. Mandy came and watched, fascinated. "I've never watched a man pee before," she said.
"Can I watch you pee?" I said when I had finished.
"Sure," she said. She sat on the toilet and parted her legs. I knelt down in front of her and watched as a yellow stream spurted out of her urethra. When she had finished I got her to stand up, then turn around and bend over. There were a few yellow drops clinging to her pubic hairs, and I licked her damp pussy, enjoying the tangy taste of her pee. Then I parted her buttocks and licked her arsehole reverently. Her body was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen.
The most daring thing we did was one night, when we were heading home on the top level of a double decker bus. We were sitting in the seats right at the back, with three or four people sitting in front of us. Mandy, without warning, reached over and undid the fly of my trousers and brought my cock out. Even though the people in front couldn't see us, it was scary because new passengers could come up the stairs at any time. Then Mandy began to go down on me. Just as she was finished, and was swallowing my cum, an old lady bundled herself up the stairs. I hurriedly covered my cock with my hands.
Finally our last evening in London arrived. We decided to go out in style, booking a table at an expensive restaurant. Mandy wore a little black cocktail dress and looked adorable.
After dinner and a couple of bottles of wine, we walked back to our apartment, which wasn't far away. As we walked, I could tell Mandy was quite lightheaded. At one point we stopped and kissed.
"Bro," she said, "can I tell you something?"
"I have this fantasy. This is going to sound awful."
"What? What is it?"
"Well, sometimes I fantasise about…about getting raped."
"Uh-huh," I said, matter-of-factly I hoped, but I was actually surprised. This was the last thing I had thought she would be into.
"Would you pretend to rape me?" She pointed to an alley. "Up there."
I shrugged. "Sure," I said.
She squeezed my arm. "Be rough with me," she whispered. Then she turned and walked toward the alley. I followed her.
The street where we had been standing was well-lit, but the alley was less so. When she was about halfway down it I grabbed her from behind and pushed her against a wall. She let out a muffled scream. I'm not really a sadist and I didn't really want to hurt her, but I wanted to please her. I took hold of the front of her cocktail dress and ripped it open, then pushed her bra up, uncovering her tits, and buried my face in them and bit her nipples. Then I forced her to the pavement and threw her skirt back. She squirmed as I got her panties off and plunged my fingers roughly into her cunt. Then I was on top of her and got my cock inside her. I fucked her hard, grabbing and squeezing her tits as I did so, willing myself to hurt her. I could feel the concrete, cold and rough beneath my knees, and heard the occasional sound of cars driving nearby. I could hear her repeating "Oh, God" under her breath.
I nearly came but stopped myself. I withdrew from her. There was one more thing I wanted to do. Grabbing her hips, I made her roll over and get on all fours, her bum towards me. I pressed the head of my cock against her arsehole and pushed. It was slimy with her pussy juice and went into her tight arse easily.
My sister moaned quietly as I anally raped her.
After I was finished, ejaculating into her bowels, we stood up and dusted ourselves off, then continued on our way to the apartment, Mandy holding her torn dress together at the front.
The next day we sat on the airplane, on the way home.
Toward the end of the long flight, Mandy looked at me. "What we've been doing, it's been wonderful, but I don't think we should keep doing it when we get home."
My heart sank. "I guess you're right," I said, but the truth was I would have loved for us to continue fucking.
Looking back on it now, as I often do, I realise how much what happened to us had to do with us being together in a strange city, away from friends and parents and everyone who knew us. We had found freedom and used it, and were both surprised and thrilled by the experience.
Shortly after we got back, Mandy got herself a new boyfriend, and I saw a lot less of her. We never talked about what had happened in London. Then, about two years ago, she moved to Europe permanently. I'm due to visit her in a couple of months. I wonder what will happen then.