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Part One of this story is posted in Erotic couplings. You might want to read it also, to see how this started.

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He was an hour late for work, unshaved and he looked like hell as he made his way through the maze of desks and cubicles to his corner office. He closed the door behind him, threw his coat over a chair and closed the blinds to the outer offices. He needed time to think about last night, and he didn’t need any interruptions.

He sat down at his desk and gazed out the window at the surrounding buildings and the traffic, 10 floors below. He wished he could fly. Fly away.

He spun his chair back to his desk and that’s when he saw it. The simple white envelope extending from his partially closed laptop. He lifted the screen to the computer and picked up the envelope. Nothing was written on the outside, but he knew who it was from.

It was from her. It was from his sister. He opened it and read the first words, “To my dearest Brother.” A choke caught in his throat.

He laid his head on the back of his chair and closed his eyes, clasping the letter in his hand. His mind rushed past the events of last night to an evening seven years before.

He was twenty one and home for the winter break before his final semester at college. He and his sister lived with their father in an affluent suburb of a large Midwestern city. Their mother died when he was thirteen and his sister ten. It had been a brain tumor, and she had suffered horribly. And so his father had been left to take care of the boy and girl on his own. The father was an executive for a major pharmaceutical company and was away on business a lot, so it was left to the boy to look after his little sister. They had grown very close.

This night was his sister’s eighteenth birthday, and her friends had taken her out for her initiation into the world of adulthood, basically to buy her a few ‘legal’ beers. Their father had been called out of town for a business appointment, leaving the son alone in the house with his sister. He did not expect to see her until bar closing time.

So, he was very surprised when the doorbell rang at 9:30, and he opened it to see his sister’s limp body splayed across the front porch. He stepped out into the night chill to see if anyone else was there, but there was no one. He grabbed her shoulder and shook it, but she did not respond. The smell of beer was strong on her breath. She was passed out.

He slid his arms under her legs and shoulders and lifted her slight frame to his chest. He pushed the door open with his foot and carried her into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. He slowly carried his unconscious sister up the stairs to her room.

The room was dark except for the ambient glow from the hallway lamp. He gently laid her on the bed and pulled off her fur-lined parka. As he did this, she groaned and rolled toward him, her soft blue cashmere sweater riding up, exposing the smooth skin of her belly. He looked at her breasts, barely hidden now, as they rose and fell with her breathing. He could plainly see the outline of her nipples through the fabric. There was no bra. He pushed the thought from his mind and moved to the end of the bed.

He pulled off her loafers and socks and looked up the length of her legs. He knew he should just throw the covers over her and let her sleep it off. But he didn’t. Instead, he decided that he would undress her, put her pajamas on and let her sleep it off comfortably. She was his sister, after all. They had taken baths together when they were little, hadn’t they?

He reached for the waistband of her pleated skirt and undid the top two buttons. He hesitated one last second and then pulled off the skirt. He was stunned to see his little sister wearing no panties. He couldn’t believe it. It had to be a trick her friends had played on her before they dumped her on the doorstep.

He wanted not to look, but he couldn’t help himself. He pulled her leg toward him spreading her as he did. He saw her feminine folds open to his view and noticed that the dark hair had been neatly trimmed away from the lips. He gasped as he felt himself harden. His thoughts were turning to those he knew were wrong, but he wasn’t sure he could stop them.

He moved further up the bed and gently pulled the sweater over her head. And then he had to stand up to look at the full length of his sister. She was more than he could have imagined. Her hair was long and dark and had fallen over her face. Her breasts were small but turned up with perfect brown nipples. Her stomach was flat and her waist slender. Her legs were long and elegantly shaped. My God, she was beautiful.

He was rock-hard now, as he sat back down on the edge of the bed. His mind was reeling, but he couldn’t stop. He placed his hand between her legs and quietly began to stroke her. She stirred, but remained asleep. He reached his other hand to feel the supple firmness of her breasts, taking one nipple between his fingers, feeling it harden kadıköy escort to his touch. His fingers began to move faster in her as she became more and more moist. He increased the pressure on her tiny sensitive button, and she seemed to respond by moving her hips slightly against his hand. It was more than he could take.

He removed his hand from her breasts and undid his belt, hurriedly pulling his pants and underwear down and over his hips allowing his straining erection to come free.

As he continued to bury his fingers inside his sister, he began to pump himself furiously, knowing he didn’t have long. And then he heard a slight moan escape her throat and he felt her legs clamp together, trapping his fingers. He continued stroking himself as he saw her body start to shudder. It was too much. He felt the eruption from within him in agonizing spurts, that felt so good. He saw the semen arc from him onto his sister belly and breasts. It seemed to keep coming forever. He wanted it to. He closed his eyes and stroked the last drops out of himself, just as his sister’s legs relaxed their grip on him. Her hips slumped back into the bed.

Moments later, as his senses came back to him, he felt a panic. He pulled her beautiful hair way from her face but she remained unconscious, her breathing returning to normal. He looked down at her body with his white seed covering her and guilt overcame him.

“What have I done,” he thought, “what have I done?”

He walked into the bathroom they shared across the hall and ran warm water over a washcloth. He wiped himself off first and pulled his slacks back up. He rinsed out the washcloth again and moved back to her. He cleaned himself off of her. He moved to her dresser and got out her pajamas. After only a small struggle, he had her clothed and under the covers. He looked down at his beautiful little sister lying there, passed out, and not so little anymore. He bent over and kissed the top of her head. And then he left, closing her door behind him.

He walked back downstairs, put on his parka and stepped out the back patio doors, into the cold December night air. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one and leaned back against the house. He knew he had done wrong. She was his sister and it was forbidden. But he had been unable to stop and, God help him, it had felt so good. Thankfully, she had not awakened. He began to cry.

That was seven years ago, and it was like yesterday. His sister had awakened the next day with a gigantic hangover. She had come down into the kitchen, still in her pajamas. She had asked him if he had put them on her and he told her yes. She thanked him, kissed his cheek and then never said another word. It would remain his secret, his terrible secret. And it did. Until last night.

He opened his eyes to the present and began to read the letter his sister had written.

“My dearest Brother,

I believe I know what you are thinking after last night. You’re thinking what we did was wrong. And me, I don’t know what I think about last night. But I know what I felt, and it didn’t feel wrong. It felt good. It felt very good. I loved your touch on me and in me. And I loved taking you into my mouth and feeling you swell and hearing you groan. And I loved having your tongue taste me. I have wanted this to happen for a long time now. Seven years, to be exact. Yes, my brother, I know what happened that night. I was drunk, but I was aware. I know you thought I was still passed out, but your touch brought me awake. I acted asleep because I knew you would stop and run if you knew I was awake. Your fingers in me that night made me cum like no one ever had or has since. I can make myself wet just thinking about it. And when you came all over me, well, it was thrilling to have that effect on you. But, I didn’t know what to do afterward, so I pretended. And then you went back to school and graduated and got this job so far away. And, so for the past seven years I have wondered. All through college, I fucked lots of boys. I say fucked not made love, because I have never made love or felt it since that night. And with you throwing yourself into your writing and not getting married, well, I just had to know what it would be like with you for real. And, now I know. And I loved it. I loved it so much it made me laugh. And even though you left so quickly, I know you loved it too. I also know your guilt is eating away at you. We ‘broke the rules’ we did the ‘forbidden.’ But whose rules? Not mine. And if you really think about how you felt seven years ago and how you were last night, I think you know they are not your rules either. So, I will be coming to you again soon. I won’t tell you when, but very soon. And we will taste each other again. Until then, I love you.

He dropped the letter into his lap and just stared out the window, and thought about what she had said. Was she right? Were his üsküdar escort feelings of guilt wrong? He didn’t know. But he believed he was about to find out.

He handed the cabbie a twenty and hopped out. He walked quickly past the doorman, nodding, and into the lobby. His apartment was on the 14th floor overlooking the city. He pressed the button for 14 and hoped no one on another floor would stop his ascent. Since it was after eleven p.m. he thought his chances were good. He was right.

The elevator doors silently opened onto his hallway. Each floor had 4 condominium apartments. His was 1402. It was an expensive place to live, and truth be known, it was beyond his means. But he figured that he was a bachelor, he didn’t have a lot of other expenses, the magazine was paying him decent money and what the hell, he deserved it.

As he opened his door, he immediately heard, “Don’t turn on the light.” And then he saw the orange glow of her cigarette as she inhaled. Startled as he was, he knew who it was. He had been half expecting her. It was the first time he had seen his sister since that night.

He closed the door behind him and threw his keys on the foyer table. It had been three days since they had been together, and he had been able to think of nothing and no one else.

“Hello, Dee, I guess we need to talk.” Her name was Deanna.

“Yes, Brian, we do,” as she took another drag.

“I didn’t know you smoked. When did you start?” He had seen very little of his sister the past seven years. He left the mid-west and came to New York immediately following graduation, to take a job with the magazine. His sister had gone to school on the west coast and their time together had dwindled to just the holidays at their father’s home. That is, until his untimely heart attack a year and a half ago. After that, Deanne had received her degree in advertising, and decided to pursue a career California. Since that time, they had not been together at all until that night.

“I’ve smoked since high school, just not in front of Dad or you.”

“Really. Give me one, will you?”

“On the table,” was her reply. He picked up the pack and her lighter and lit one for himself, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs.

“God, this is awful,” he coughed.

“Yeah, but I like it.” She was silhouetted against the backdrop of the city skyline, her long hair pulled up on top of her head and her knees drawn up into her chest as she leaned back into the comfort of the overstuffed chair.

“How did you get in here?” he asked.

“I told the doorman I was your sister. I even showed him my driver’s license. He was a pushover. It’s amazing what a little touch on the forearm and a smile will do to most men. I told him it was your birthday and I wanted to surprise you by being here when you got home. I didn’t think it would be so late, though. I drank some of your scotch. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Course not.” Brian sat down on the sofa opposite Deanna.

“I’ve been here since five thirty. I got hungry and helped myself to your refrigerator. Don’t you ever save anything? Not a damned thing to eat. I found a can of Campbell’s soup. Not great, but at least it was something. Anyway, I got bored, so I took a shower and put on some of your clothes. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Sure,” he said, realizing she was wearing an oversized tee shirt and his sweatpants.

“Dee, the other night, when I left, I didn’t mean . .”

“I know Brian, I understand. I caught you off guard. I intended to, as a matter of fact. But, now here we are, so let’s talk. I’ll start, okay?” She snuffed out her cigarette.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Okay. Well, like I said in the letter, ever since that night up in my bedroom, I haven’t been the same. You see, Brian, you were my big brother. You were my hero. When you went away for college, I was devastated. It was just Dad and me then. I was fifteen and I had no one to talk to. Dad had no clue. He was wrapped up in work, and I basically lived my life on my own.” Deanna picked up her glass and sipped at the scotch. Then she continued, “I’m sure you can remember what it was like when you were fifteen, can’t you?”

Brian nodded, even though he wasn’t sure exactly what she meant.

“Well, I remember when you were fifteen, Bri. I used to find your Playboy and Penthouse magazines under your mattress, not to mention the used Kleenex. I was only twelve, but I understood.”

Brian felt a slight flush come over his face.

“So, anyway, you can just imagine what it was like for me, basically alone in that house most of the time. And I was becoming sexually aware, and I was developing needs, just like you did. Do you know what I mean?”

“Of course I do, Dee, go on.”

“Well,” she said after a slug of scotch and a drag on a newly lit cigarette, “I used to play with myself, you know, masturbate, just like you did. Only, instead of magazines, oh fuck Brian, how do I say this? Instead tuzla escort of magazines, I would just pull out a picture of you and fantasize about being with you. I would hold your picture in one hand and fuck myself with the other hand.” She took another long swig of scotch.

“Dee, I had no idea.”

“Of course not, big brothers never know. But I think a lot of girls fantasize about their older brothers. Anyway, I sure did. Oh my God, did I!”

“But what about other boys?” Brian asked.

“Oh there were plenty of them. I know I’m good looking. I also know what that means when it comes to power over men and boys. I went out with a lot of different boys in high school.”

“Any of them get serious?”

“Maybe, but I didn’t. I guess you might say I was sort of a cockteaser. I loved to get them all heated up; it made me feel good and powerful. Sometimes, I even gave them a feel, but just of my breasts and just through the sweater. Somehow, even though my body was screaming out to be touched, I couldn’t let them. My mind kept going back to my big brother. Something made me stop and wait for you, even though I had no idea anything like that night would ever happen.”

“Dee, about that night, you know I never meant to do it. It just happened. Afterward I felt so guilty.”

“I’m sure you did, Brian. But you see, it was what I had been fantasizing about all the time you were away at college. I’m not sure when it started. Maybe it was when Mom died, and with Dad away so much, you just took care of me. You became my protector, my world. I needed you.”

“That’s completely natural, for brothers and sister, Dee.”

“Sure it is, I know that, but somewhere along the line, it became more for me. And I think for you too.”

Brian took a drag on his cigarette and dropped his chin to his chest.

“Remember how our bathroom door had the air-vent in the bottom of it, Bri?”

“Sure, I remember.”

“Well, I used to sit on the steps below the door and look up through the vent at night. I would see you in there reading those magazines, or at least looking at the pictures,” she teased.

Brian smiled.

“And I would be fascinated as you would start to beat off, and how big your cock would get. And then I would watch your face and I would see how your eyes would shut when you came. And it used to seem to me that you would come forever, as I watched. And I would touch my clit as I watched you. I didn’t really even know what I was doing, but as time went on, I knew I loved how it felt. I could see you loved it too.”

“And then, your senior year in high school, I was sleeping over at Sherry’s house and I realized I had forgotten to bring any clean underwear so I ran home to get some. And, I remember Dad was out of town. And I came in the back door and the house was dark, but I heard music. I knew you had a date with that blonde bitch I hated, what’s her name.”

“Paula Perrault?”

“Right, Paula. Anyway, I figured you must have been making out, so I was real quiet. I snuck into the family room, and the only light was the fireplace burning, and I saw you two. And she was giving you a blowjob. And you know what Bri? I wasn’t shocked, I was jealous. I just wished that it was me and not her. I wished I could have been sucking on your cock. I don’t know why. I mean, I could have had plenty of boys, even at fifteen. But it was you I wanted. It always was. It always has been.” Dee lit another from the burning but of her last cigarette.

“Dee, there is nothing wrong with a girl having a crush on her older brother, especially as close as we were, given our circumstances.” Brian poured himself a scotch. A tall one.

“Brian, get serious here, that was no crush. I didn’t wish we could kiss and cuddle. I wanted to make love with you. But of course, I knew that was never going to happen. I knew it was ‘forbidden’ for a brother to fuck his sister.”

Her use of the words surprised Brian, although he found himself getting aroused.

“So, then when you were home for Christmas that time, I’m not sure exactly what happened, but when I came to, and you were feeling me, it was like, well, like my dream come true. When you started fucking me with your fingers, and playing with my tits, I almost couldn’t stay still. But I didn’t want you to stop, and I though maybe you would take it all the way, and if you did, then I would go with you. But, I guess something stopped you, but what did happen was thrilling to me. I almost yelled when you made me come. And when I felt your hot sperm landing on my tits, it was almost more than I could take.”

Brian was staring intently at his sister now, unable to speak, not wanting her to stop.

“So, I won’t bore you with the details since then, Bri, I’m sure you can imagine the life of college girls. But I will tell you this: Every cock I sucked, I imagined it was your’s; every guy I fucked had your face; and every time I came, I was back in my bedroom with your fingers in me.” With that, Dee put down her glass and cigarette and got up out of the chair. She walked around the coffee table and knelt in front of Brian.

“So, what do you think, Bri, is your baby sister depraved? Am I wrong to feel the way I do about you?”

Brian was still speechless, but managed to shake his head from side to side, letting Dee know that it was okay.

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