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I couldn’t control my tears. I had shamelessly given in to Robert. I was shaken by a sudden tremor, because I thought I was going to lose my brother. I adored him as my kid brother.
Papa, on his deathbed, made me promise to take care of Robert until he’s old enough to take the responsibility of his life. That solemn oath had formed a deeper bond between us and kindled in me a passionate maternal feel for him. Until now, Robert had been my guide and company in difficult times. Now in this trouble, which concerned him, I had none to talk with. I thought of William. He was the most useless person in this dilemma.
Disheveled and sprawled, I lay on my back. My tears had waned. My t-shirt rode up, showing my curvy midriffs. The white-pleated skirt I wore for the evening rolled up on my thighs. My big, conical breasts were brooding with twisted anticipation.
After an hour or two, Robert entered my room. He switched on the light. My morose, piercing look failed to diminish his spirit. Sitting at my feet, facing me, he held my right foot and put it on his lap. My handsome brother gazed at me lustfully.
I was not decent at all. My brother’s shameless eyes were making me sexier every moment. He had been staring at my panties. This evening I put the best pair from my generous wardrobe. They were pink, shiny, and silky. They didn’t have a lace. But they’re a nicely-cut pair of undergarments. They didn’t make much contrast with the tone of my thigh muscles. That’s why I wore them this evening.
I, of course, hadn’t thought I would open my legs in front of my brother. But the sheer desire he expressed in his diary had made me feel sexy all over. And I couldn’t but wore my best panties and best, matching bra, just to feel erotic.
The panties felt good, especially on my ass, because of their satiny smoothness. My clitoris became extra sensitive under their silky friction and it was almost oppression for my love-bud as I was being aroused. The crotch was still dry, but hot and humid.
Under the stroke of my brother’s gentle hands on my feet, my entire body was radiating the heat of desire. I felt it in my armpits. I felt the heat of my breaths on my cheeks.
I was most aware of my genitals: their sweet throbbing under my brother’s lustful eyes. Yes, the mark of the first patch of my secretion was there, on my silk panties.
A wicked spirit enticed me to behave wickedly. I wanted to shed shyness. I wanted to act like an erotic goddess and took my brother along the course of my perversion. I wanted to give him the best of my sisterly and maternal self, the tenderest erotic pleasure I could muster. I would dance naked if it pleased him. I’d talk dirty. I’d be bitchy. Because he would give me his virginity.
Aha. The thought of his virginity, my pussy tunnel around his virgin cock, made me hotter. I gave mine to William who had given his to a distant aunt who had raped him when he was 13. I wished I had been a virgin myself, for my brother: his touch on my virgin nipples, on my virgin sex.
It was not possible. What could I do? I would compensate for the lack of my virginity with my experience. The young poet wouldn’t want to fuck a shy girl. He needed an experienced one. The boy who had red Odyssey and Iliad and all the novels by D. H. Lawrence and Iris Murdoch and who dreamed Lady Lamb’s pubic hair in Lord Byron’s tiffin box mustn’t have had his life’s first hug from a banal virgin. Yes, he’d get what he deserved. “Has William ever told how beautiful are you, Anja?” My brother said. His agile fingers crawled on my feet and spiraled across my toes. “See,” he said, “how soft and shapely your heel is.”
“This is not decent, baby. To invite your sister’s heel to embrace your penis,” I smirked and pressed my heel onto his growing manhood which agitated from across his jeans. His concealed organ seems to have no limit.
We were making the same effort. Trying to see inside of each other’s. I knew what he was thinking was not much different from my thoughts. We were thinking of a life-long relationship, of forming a domestic couple, we were considering marriage, children, society. As if we were old lovers. I couldn’t but laugh that this new course of our relation was sparked off by the sight of a pair of my panties.
The solid muscles on my brother’s chest and arms were pushing against his shirt. I’d never seen my brother happier. He’s looking at the naked parts of my body. He was not trying to hide the blush of his anticipation as he was gazing at my breasts.
I fell prey to a sudden temptation to uncover my breasts. I was positively troubled that my personality was sexually responding to Robert’s overture. My nipples straightened as a reaction to his stare. The hollow of my navel cringed and the soft muscles around it quivered. A whispering air wafted on my naked thighs. I was no less happy than my brother.
“Sis, I have never thought I would get you,” Robert said, stroking my Onwin giriş calf muscles. “The night outside is serenading my love for you. Don’t fidget on it, Anja. I understand how troubled you are. I am taking — from now on until my death — the responsibility of all your troubles, including the present one, on my shoulders.”
Robert’s shoulders were broad and strong. He flexed them fatherly. He had achieved this easy way of synchronizing all his words with his body. In the past I had been protective of him and never thought of my own protection. Now Robert was making my worries disappear with his knightly presence. He was reviving — or just giving life to the hidden woman in me — the feminine self which was hidden under my sisterly and motherly responsibilities as an older sibling.
William had never kindled this kind of feel in me. It’s a shame that I had to compare Robert with William, who could, at best, be a dream-groom to only an ambitious careerist woman whose entire tenderness was squandered for the favor of the superior people, leaving nothing for her man except her disused womanhood. Robert surpassed every young man in our little town in every way: personality, physical structure, health, education, and maturity. My father entertained himself with Wordsworth. Robert could recite half of Keats’ and Shelley’s poetry from memory. Robert’s world was without limit or horizon. It’s pity that he was craving me as his woman.
‘What if someday he finds me unworthy of him, like other girls, with no depth, no inclination to finer things like poetry.’ I sudden fear jolted my feminine soul.
William would come to me only to fuck, because he’d not learned to masturbate. Now it was clear that he was after me only to take care of his groins, to calm his hard penis with whatever provisions my impromptu womanhood could produce. The rest of his body had no want, no response, so it could not satisfy my need for love. Now Robert, my brother, was here, ready to satisfy my need for love. The doors to the hidden caves in the depth of my heart were opening. I was afraid to expose them to Robert.
“Robert,” I retorted. “What made you think that you have got me? You have got me, but only as your sister. You may also take note of the fact that you have got your mother in me. That’s the way I have been taking care of you. I am not much older than you, yet I have a deep maternal feel for you. But how come have you thought that you have got me as your lover only because that you have sucked on a pair of my discarded panties and taken custody of a strand of my pubic hair?”
I gasped for air after this polemic. Robert was agitated. I hurt him.
“Anja,” he whined. “Do you know how you have been behaving since the afternoon? You have been behaving like a confused teenager. By now you should know that we are predestined to be lovers. I am younger, so you should lead me. What you are doing is unbecoming of a mature lady who claims to be protective of me with maternal consciousness. I didn’t expect you to read my diary. Now that you have read, now that you know my infatuation, you can’t escape me. You don’t know how I felt when I was out this evening. Aha, sis. This is love. No matter this love is for my sister, an utterly wrong person. But this is love which commands this world, which burns in heaven and freezes in hell. If only you knew how I felt about everything, how the streets slid under my feet, how the crackle of leaves in the trees levitated me, how my heart became liquid of an ocean in my chest. I shed some drops of tears for those who do not have what I have: a sister like you. Yes, this is how I got you. I got you in my love and it is eternal. You don’t have the right to dismiss me, Anja. The ecstatic feel I had outside this evening is worth my life: now either that feel is nourished or I lose my life. There is only one way that feel can be nourished and that way is your requital of my love. Otherwise, I’ll kill myself. The only thing I don’t know how many people will I kill, how much life and property will I destroy, before I destroy myself. Your calm, temperate brother has died. He will revive if only you reciprocate his love.”
My brother was an orator. I had always been a strong girl. He now made me a mess of jelly with his soliloquy. I had never seen him in such a tumultuous state. He was torn between his craving for me and fear of unattainability of his craving. He, therefore, wanted to attain it be sheer force of expressing his feel for me.
I was scared. It was love, I thought, that made me brood so much. I could easily deal with this unforeseen trouble in my life. I could threw my garments, opened my legs, pour a bottle of olive-oil in my cunt, and ask Robert to satisfy his need as many times as he could. Then when he needed me no more, he could forget the whole drama. But I knew Robert. It would have been as much an insult to him to fuck his sister like a whore or use her cunt one or two times as it was to me to be a one-time whore for my brother. Like Robert, I had valued love above everything. Now defying all bitterness, my body and mind was awaiting a fuck with love by my brother. I could not deny the response of my body.
Robert resumed stroking my foot. His treatment was mature and affectionate. The response of my body to my brother’s touch was fast and severe. My hips quivered. I had no more strength or will to dispel him. My heart accepted the fact without disgrace that the imminent need of my brother’s love for me was my sex. I must say that my sex had been throbbing since the beginning of this confrontation. At this point, seeing my brother’s need for it, my sex began to agitate like it had never done. My toes, with red nail-polish, beckoned at him. As he drew my foot further on, a hollow formed at my thighs, through which he had a glimpse of my panties. My pink panties, richly glossy, and silky, were now patched like the shadows of mountain-clouds with the secretion of my submission.
“I’m the virgin, not you, Elder Sister,” Robert mocked, gathering confidence from my blushes.
“I’m the street whore, not you, Robert,” I simpered.
Contrary to my assumption, my statement kicked my brother erotically. His distending manhood became semi-hard. He splayed my feet gently, to get a better view of my panties. When the entire crotch came to his view, he gathered my feet and slid my heel, up and down, along his cock. He adroitly squeezed his manhood with my heel.
My breasts throbbed and swelled and the cups of my tight bra squeezed my gourds of pleasure. My nipples got extra-thick. I looked at him meekly, and pushed my other foot on his lap. I slid my ankle on his jeans and felt the strength of his muscle.
He’d seen his sister’s wet crotch. His nose flared because he’s getting the aroma of my arousal. I closed my thighs, as if I was trying to hide a treasure. The movement of my sisterly limbs charged Robert with heightened wantonness. His eyes grew more lustful. He drove his hands until the naked parts of my thighs. He was not yet touching the softest parts of my thigh muscles. Yet his touch felt heavenly on my naked flesh.
Staring at him coquettishly, I hiked my skirt to the root of my legs. I gathered my skirt in a mess and covered my wet panties. ‘Enjoy boy, enjoy the smooth skin of your sister’s legs,’ I muttered in my chest. My breasts were distended with my suppressed whisper.
He stroked my thighs. He didn’t try to encroach on one millimeter more than what I had exposed for him. I liked the gentle way of his kneading my smooth skin.
I wanted to control the beginning of our degeneration. I raised my left leg. I crawled my feet over his belly, onto his chest. I touched his chin with my toes. I drew my toes, gently, along his lips. I poked his mouth with my big toe. It entered his receptive mouth. The pad of my toe pushed against his hot tongue.
“You boys are like dogs, bro. Suck on my toe and show me how much you love me.” I smirked.
Robert’s mouth was hot and wet against my toe. His eyes became narrow. I was rejuvenated by his humiliation. This was what I wanted. I took my foot out of his mouth but not before I again caressed his lips with it.
Laughing loud, I jumped onto him. I lay on him, covering him as much as I could. With careful movement, I gathered my skirt on my waist and pushed my wet, pantied crotch onto his groins. A button of his shirt poked my naked navel. I squeezed my breasts into his chest so that he could feel them to the maximum.
I took his one hand and pushed it into my t-shirt until his fingers touched the fuzz on my left armpit. I took his other hand and pushed it onto my right armpit.
“You like my pubic hair.” I whispered. “The hair under my arms are softer.”
His fingers raked the hair in my armpits. A thousand kinky things came to my mind. But I listened to my instinct and decided to go slowly.
Robert looked grimly at me as if I was going to fuck him immediately. I raised my head and gazed at him lovingly. It was good for me that I was in control of the situation.
“If you are to be my lover, my dear brother, you have to fulfill all my wishes. I’m a naughty girl, but William has never allowed me anything. You have to be naughty with me. If you don’t think you have the spirit for it, it’s better we give up here. But if you want me to continue to be your girl, I will be very demanding. Promise me, brother, promise to satisfy your sister’s kinky mind.”
Robert responded positively to my urge, by lurching erotically, and pulling my wisps. I overwhelmed him with my lithe, feminine body. The big boy Robert, he was six feet, became meek and accommodative. His eyes shone with gentle submission.
My maternal feel had never been tenderer for him. “You have never kissed baby, have you?” I asked, because I knew Robert had never kissed any girl. “Believe me, brother, I have never kissed with love. I have stopped kissing William for a long time.”
Robert’s lips trembled. He had fine, red lips, not as full as mine, but they were delicate and sexy. My lips were dark pink while his were red.
I wetted my lips with my tongue. “Do as I do, baby. Wet these sexy lips,” I said, touching his lips with my index finger. “Your sister will kiss you.”
When he went to comply, I stopped him. “I’ll do it myself, baby bro,” I said.
Leaning lovingly, adoringly, I set my lips along my brother’s. His breathing was shallow and hot like vapor which wafted on my nose and face. I flexed gently my full lips and pressed on him gently, letting him have his time to feel my softness.
The young poet’s body quivered under my feminine torso. His happy moans stiffened my already hard nipples. My pussy walls released warm nectar which seeped through my panties onto the crotch of his jeans.
He tried to kiss me back. But I outmaneuvered him. I took his lower lip between mine and kissed it with abandon. I slid my crotch up and down to give his hard manhood a taste of my soft groin.
My brother’s lip was fresh, smooth, and spongy. I had never kissed a guy so passionately. As my body was arousing with my sloppy kiss on my brother’s lip, the residue of inhibition about incest died out and I forgot that the heavenly debauchery had began only today, instigated by a literature the sight of a pair of my panties had inspired in my younger sibling in the morning after I had left for work.
“I’m in heaven, Sis. I can’t tell you how good you feel on me or your lips against mine. I don’t know of a woman to compare with you: lithe, lively, fresh, and fragrant.” Robert breathed in my neck and into the hair on my neck. “I’m achingly hard, sis. Please don’t hump anymore.”
I felt his hardness and I knew what he meant. My brother could discharge any time.
I sloppily kissed his right ear. “Am I too hot for you, baby bro?” I whispered, probing my tongue into his ear, wetting the interior with my hot saliva. “If I’m too hot for you, why don’t you kiss me?”
I tilted over him and offered him my lips, grinning coquettishly. My brother drew my head over him and took both my lips with his. He kissed them, first gently, as if I’d be hurt. But as moments passed, his kiss became more demanding. He took both my lips inside. I felt his teeth against my lips, which touched his gums, which felt very good against my receptive lips. With sloppy, swiveling movement of his boyish lips, my brother began to savor my juicy oral labia.
My brother’s cock prodded onto my crotch, defying three barriers that separated us: his underwear and jeans and my panties. I had never been kissed like this as I had never kissed anybody with such passion.
I died for penetration into my pussy by his cock. With sheer willpower I stopped my beastly desire from tearing our clothes for a wild fuck. I decided against it, because I wanted Robert to kiss me with all the attention he could muster. He nibbled at my lips from both sides as if they were the sweetest candies in the town. I was so hot that my pussy lips opened and closed against my panties like the mouth of a fish out of water.
Robert’s kissing was as much special to him as it was to mine, for the same reason: mine were the first pair of lips my brother was kissing. He did not seem to finish with them for next one hundred years. He was savoring their soft, moist texture, drawing sexual feel from all the art and poetry he had learned, nibbling, pushing, pulling, probing, wetting them with his tongue, suppressing whimpers and moans of appreciation of the feminine taste of my lips in his mouth. Every second he was infusing me with new excitement as he was devouring my soft, full lips. The joy of being kissed like this exposed me to some discreet humane feel and I wished for all the sexy sisters of the world such pleasure by their horny brothers.
“Will you be this demanding all your life, Robert?” I asked, disengaging my well-treated lips, in an attempt to express my love for him and my satisfaction to his adulation.
My brother stared at me adoringly, as if I was his goddess mother. The poet in him was searching for some suitable response but his whole being became dumbfounded with the beauty and charm of his sister’s arousal which washed over my face, my whole body, with a red, constant blush. I fell in love with him at the sight of his two adorable, grateful eyes. At the same moment, I pledged to become the lifelong beloved of my sexy brother; my body, my sex, my breasts, my feminine heart all would belong to him. As a gesture of my pledge, I slid my crotch over his — to give him another spell of taste of my soft, wet groin — and attacked him with a wild, feminine kiss.
This time I gave him my tongue, steadily probing between his teeth into his receptive mouth. The first thing I tasted inside my brother’s mouth was the mint of his banana-flavored chewing-gum. I snaked my agile tongue round his. His tongue was bigger, stronger; I found it extremely hot and sexy.
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