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One

The Garden


I was born when my mother was still in high school, and in those days they punished that transgression by expelling the student. That way Society could ensure that she would never be able to earn enough to support herself as a single parent and be all martyred because it had to provide for her in poverty; perhaps taking her child away and institutionalizing him until he became a proper criminal and could be put in prison for the rest of his life. Yes, I’m bitter. And no, she did not marry the father (note I don’t say MY father), and what that makes me in other people’s eyes is something else that doesn’t concern me one bit. I determine who I am, not my parentage.

Anyway, things weren’t quite that dire for us. Her parents took us in and my mom finished high school while my grandmother did baby duty. Then my mom started a community college course in art, specializing in handcrafts, because that was a passion of hers. She loved all kinds of decorator art, making cute things out of found objects, needlework, knitting, crocheting, etc. While there, she met a history professor who taught at the state college, and they hit it off. He was seven years older than her, but he was a total gentleman, and he courted her very properly. In six months, they decided to get married, and shortly after (hey, stop counting!) my sister Susan was born.

At that point, it was obvious our family needed a home, so they went house hunting. We lived in a warm climate, so a backyard pool was almost mandatory. They found a nice three bedroom, two bath with a pool and a cute little pool house, and moved in. About that time, my mom’s parents split up, and our grandmother moved into one of the bedrooms. It didn’t matter at the time, since both of us kids slept in the same room anyway. It was thought that after grandma found other living arrangements, I would be old enough to need to move into the third bedroom.

Well, you know the best laid plans. Grandma eventually did move in with another relative, but by then our mom’s obsession with crafts was starting to fill up that third bedroom. She kept a lot of her supplies in there, and after Grandma left, she turned it into her workshop and display area. She started having other ladies; young housewives, mostly; over for coffee and craft meetings, being in clubs and whatnot, and she had a pretty nice business going, selling stuff at fairs and church bazaars, etc. Those ladies often brought their own preschool age kids, so Susie and I started having friends. It was actually a pretty nice life.

Meanwhile, our mom kept up her studies and eventually finished a bachelor’s in art, and then she went for a teaching credential. She didn’t like what she saw in the local schools, and she convinced the board to let her homeschool us. Everything was really working out for us. Susie’s dad was awesome, the only father I ever knew and as far as I’m concerned, my real dad. He spent as much time with us as he could while still keeping up his work at the college, plus all the research and side projects he did for his PhD, which he felt he needed to secure his family a good future.

So the upshot of all this was that Susie and I were pretty much on our own, living in the same room and not having a lot of social life except with each other. Which didn’t really bother us, because we got along great. I was very careful and protective of her, taking her everywhere with me until it got to the point people noticed they always saw us together. Even when we got older and I was starting to go to my buddies’ houses to do stuff with them, she would insist on tagging along, and if that wasn’t cool with my friends, I got new friends. Sometimes they had sisters for Susie to play with, but she was a bit of a tomboy and preferred to hang with us guys anyway.

Now, the thing about our parents was, they were pretty… bohemian. Holistic health, vegetarian, intellectual, that kind of thing. They didn’t believe in having a TV or going to movies much, but our house was full of every kind of book. Susie and I learned to read very early, and we spent a lot of time at the local library, reading anything and everything we wanted. They took us camping in the local mountains and deserts a lot, but never to any stupid theme parks or tourist traps. And… they were nudists.

Every year we looked forward to a couple of weeks at a very cool family-friendly nudist lodge and campground in the hills, among the oaks and pines. We always camped there, but we spent a lot of time hanging out with the awesome people in the lodge. This was in the middle to late 1950’s, before hippies became a thing, but they would have been considered part of the Beautiful People. And everybody was naked all day until it started getting cool in the evening.

One of the first things our folks did when they bought our house was to privacy-protect the back yard. Within a year or so they had high solid fences and thick hedges all around so nobody could see in from any angle. Then we could all skinny-dip and sunbathe almost year-round, and we hardly ever wore any clothes at home. Nobody thought about skin cancer in those days, and we got coffee-colored, all-over tans. Whenever we got home from being out somewhere, we couldn’t wait to get completely naked; it felt so natural and free. Of course, this meant that we kids knew all about male and female anatomy, both each other’s and our folks’. The externals, anyway. It didn’t take long for us to learn about the inside parts too, as our parents weren’t the least bit shy about teaching us the basics. The advanced courses had to wait, but we got some ideas from watching them being affectionate with each other and sometimes closing their bedroom door for a “nap”. Susie and I would glance at each other and giggle, and then try to listen at the door.

Having different fathers, Susie and I didn’t look a lot alike. I was a bit on the thick side, not fat but big-boned and a little clumsy, with grey-blue eyes and coarse dark hair. Susie was gangly but strong, very athletic and active, with green eyes and light blonde hair. I was more into reading, writing and drawing, while she wanted to be up and doing stuff a lot. We often had to compromise and trade off activity and quiet times.

Two

The Serpent

Sex crept into our lives only very gradually and almost unnoticed. I think in Susie’s case, it was always there; we just didn’t know what it was. I’ve heard that girls are often way ahead of boys in that regard, and it certainly was the case with us. Nearly from the time she was out of diapers, I noticed that she liked to hump a pillow or stuffed animal. She wasn’t the least bit shy about it, and one time when I asked her about it, she said it just felt good.

The whole thing about genital pleasure was still a mystery to me, so I just took her word for it. She didn’t really move much when she did this, it was more the sensation of pressure on her pubic area she liked. She would lay a blanket over a pillow, then create a ridge in the blanket and carefully lie over it so the ridge pressed against her clit. Then her little buttocks and legs would clench and quiver as she bore down on her homemade masturbation device. Sometimes she’d go to sleep in that position afterward, her bony butt in the air and a satisfied smile on her face.

Well, time went on and eventually I started to catch up with my sister in that department. I started noticing that I was getting random boners at odd times during the day, which mystified me because they didn’t seem to be related to anything in particular. I was beginning to feel less comfortable confiding in our folks about these things. I guess every kid comes to that point sooner or later.

I couldn’t for the life of me say how old we were when this happened, but if I had to guess, I’d say I was about ten, and Susie eight. Anyway, one day my sister and I were home alone in our room, reading books on our own beds. We were naked as usual, and all of a sudden, Susan glanced over at me and said “Hey, you’re hard!” I had no idea what she meant, but I could see she was looking down at my crotch area. I lowered my book and realized I was fully erect. My penis had been growing a little at a time over the past year, and was now about three inches long.

“Agh!” I yelled, covering it with my book, “Don’t look at it!”

“Why not?” She was utterly mystified at my embarrassment.

Not being able to come up with a good reason, I just said, “I dunno. It doesn’t seem natural.”

“Daddy’s gets like that when he kisses Mommy”, she giggled, “so it must be natural. Let me see it!” She hopped off her bed and onto mine.

“Noooo!” I protested, and then thought about it and said to myself, why not? “Okay”. I tossed the book aside and revealed my still mortifyingly hard penis.

“Cool!” she blurted, “Can I touch it?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said hesitantly.

She pressed it down against my belly with her forefinger, and then released it, letting it spring up again. She giggled with delight, and did it again. Then she took hold of it and moved it from side to side, then upright.

“Wow, it’s strong,” she said, letting it snap back against my belly. “Does that hurt?” She was looking at my face.

“No, it feels good,” I admitted.

“It looked like it hurt.”

“It feels strange. Good but strange.”

“Oh, I bet it feels like mine does when I press on it. It feels really good.”

“Maybe.”

She straddled my legs, facing me, and started to play with my penis some more. She brought it toward her as far as it would go and let it snap back several times.

“Haha, a catapult! Give me something to shoot!”

I gave her a couple of poker chips lying nearby, and she fired one at me. I caught it in midair, producing squeals of delight from her. We played that for another couple of rounds, until I caught one near my eye and said “enough!”

Although we had always seen each other naked, we hadn’t had a chance to really examine each other up close. Now Susie inspected my parts with great interest and care, turning my dick and balls every which way, rolling my shaft between her palms and looking into my pee-hole. All of it kept feeling better and better, and I felt a kind of tingling sensation starting to fill my whole body. I didn’t know what it was, but it felt kind of alarming.

“I think we better stop, Suze. It’s making me feel weird.”

“Okay, Bear-Bear.” That was what she called me, cause “Bear” sounds like “Bare”, short for “Barry”.

However, she didn’t get off me. “Is it bad weird, or good weird?”

“Not bad. Just… weird. Okay, good weird. Really good weird. Kind of dizzy.”

“Okay, that’s how I feel when I press myself. Right here.” She pointed to her pubic area, then demonstrated with her hand. She cupped herself with both hands and pulled up. “It really feels good in this spot.” She showed me her clitoris.

“Let me see,” I said. This was really getting interesting, I thought.

She “walked” forward on her knees, still straddling me, until her baby pubis was right in front of my face. I ran my fingers up and down the lips, then pulled them slightly apart. She trembled at my touch, and I stopped.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. It feels… weird. Good weird. Keep doing that.”

“Okay. Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“It’s okay. I like it.”

I continued my exploration, pulling the lips further apart. I could see her tiny vagina, kind of wet, and her clitoris at the top. It was unusually pink, like it was blushing. She continued to have small tremors as I played around with her parts.

“Bear-Bear”, she said hoarsely.

“Huh?”

“I want to try something.”

“Okay?” I said apprehensively.

She reached back and felt my dick, which was still very hard. I actually flinched a little at her touch. Then she repositioned herself so she was lying flat, face down, on top of me. She maneuvered her bony hips until her clit was pressed against my penis, sending spasms of joy through me. She wrapped her arms around my back and pulled herself down against me with all her might. It actually hurt me down there a little, but I was feeling too good to care. Susan rocked very slightly from side to side, then forward and back, building tension until I thought she was going to break something. Her face contorted in what looked like agony, and then she gasped and choked a little.

“Oh Bear! Oh Bear-Bear! Oh my god!”

“Suzie, are you okay?” I asked, concerned.

She took several more breaths and began to relax. “That was so WEIRD! I’ve never felt like that in my life!” Then she looked at me again. “Did that feel okay for you?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed, “The best! What the heck did we do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we just had sex.”

“You think so? I think there’s more to it than that.”

“I don’t think I could stand any more than that.”

“I know, right?”

She was still catching her breath. She rolled off me weakly and sat up. I was still hard as a rock. She had achieved her first orgasm, but mine was still to come. For right now, my whole body was one huge sexual organ, aching for release. Finally, Suze noticed my dick’s condition hadn’t changed, and she started playing with it again.

“Is this okay?” she asked.

“Yes! I mean, sure. It feels wonderful! Oh god!”

Suze resumed her previous position over my legs and started pulling it up and letting go again. Then she started fanning her spread fingers toward her across the head, snapping it in rapid succession, which made a sound like a playing card in bicycle spokes. She laughed, and then turned serious when she saw my expression.

“Is that okay?”

“Yes! Do that some more!”

She resumed the action with both hands alternately, so there was constant stimulation. I felt the weirdness rising again, only much more intense this time. I know my face contorted, and my whole body grew very tense, straining every muscle. Suzy looked at me with alarm.

“Barry, this isn’t good! You’re scaring me!” She stopped the motion and started to shift backwards away from me.

“No, no, it’s okay Suze! I think this is what you were feeling when you were pressing on me!” I grabbed her thighs to hold her still.

“O…okay.” She shifted forward again and resumed her action on my penis.

“So… good!” I exclaimed. “Can you do it faster?”

“My arms are getting tired.”

“Just a little more. I feel like it’s close!”

“Okay Bear-Bear.”

She soldiered on for what seemed like an eternity. The feeling waxed and waned, then suddenly shot up to new heights. I was blinded by sheer liquid emotion, flooded with a sensation that felt like it could kill me. Suddenly the action of her fingers on me was painful, and I took hold of her wrists to stop her.

“Oh god, Suze, that was awesome!”

She grinned widely and clapped her hands. “Really? Oh Bro-Bear, I’m so glad you had that too!” She threw herself on top of me, hugging me tight. The room was spinning a little, and her voice seemed to be coming from far away, covered by a din of ringing in my ears. Then everything slowly returned into place.

“Wow. Just wow!” I said eventually. I wrapped my arms around my naked little sister and basked in the afterglow of our first mutual sexual experience.

Three

Fig Leaves


So as you can imagine, this opened up a whole new chapter in our lives. Thing is, once you go through that door, you can’t go back. Things weren’t all that different at first. We were still the same bro-and-sis, and we did the same non-sexual things, but there was a new dimension to our relationship, one we couldn’t have imagined until we experienced it. We had eaten from the Tree of Knowledge, and now our eyes were opened.

At first sex was a new toy to us, and we couldn’t get enough. It continued to consist of just mutual masturbation for the better part of a year. I learned how Susan liked to have her clit rubbed, and she continued to rattle her fingers over my dick and make it vibrate until I came. However, we were entering a new stage in our life that was to change everything.

We tried to ignore it, but for some reason the casual nudity that we had always taken for granted now had a sexual component. We weren’t “in love” yet, only in lust, and using each other to get off together. When we were naked out by the pool with our parents, it got harder and harder for me to disguise my feelings for Susie. Also, our bodies were changing; we were not still children, but not yet adults. Kind of awkward and misshapen. We were embarrassed by what seemed like deformities; Susan’s breasts didn’t develop at exactly the same rate, and I started having weird hair all over. Even my growing penis seemed like some kind of horrible tumor between my legs. You know the drill.

So with all this going on, we started wearing more clothes around each other, and the sex decreased until it was just a fading memory. We masturbated more than ever, but only when totally alone. We started hanging out together less and spending more time either alone or with friends. Our parents didn’t say anything, they just assumed, rightly, that it was a phase and we’d either grow out of it or not, and that was cool with them.

Then, when I was about 14 I think, Suze and I started to get close again. I was getting into weight training and football, and developing a pretty toned body. Susie was filling out nicely, getting the start of a figure and looking very pretty. She was still half tomboy, not so much into girly stuff like makeup and jewelry, but she “cleaned up good” when she wanted to. Our parents had decided that we needed more social life, so we were going to a private academy that had a lot of arts and humanities, and I was in the local Pop Warner league. We didn’t hang out with the prima donnas or preppies, just regular kids that we liked and who liked us. And little by little, Susie started liking boys and I liked girls. Who’da thunk it?

That’s actually what started bringing us back together. We began sharing our feelings about our crushes with each other, comparing notes about our friends and what they were actually like behind our backs. We were able to eliminate a lot of two-faced losers that way, and get heads-up on what different ones liked and didn’t like. We started to feel like pals again, fellow travelers through the adventure of life.

So we both “dated” others, in the most non-adult, well-chaperoned sense. We attended backyard family barbecues and got invited to kid’s parties and trips to theme parks with parents. It was good, actually, because without the option of having sex with our crushes, it took the pressure off us and let us get to know them as actual people. And in most cases, we came to realize that they didn’t measure up to either Susie or me. Neither of us ever went “steady” with anybody; few made it beyond the first date with us.

All this time, we were still living in that same house and the same room. Our dad had installed a long curtain rod across the bedroom and our mom made a nice heavy curtain to give us some privacy from each other. At first we used it a lot, but it became a pain to keep sliding open and shut to pass through and do the bedmaking and stuff, and as our awkwardness with each other decreased, we started leaving it open more and more. And as we became more comfortable with our bodies, we weren’t so shy about seeing each other undressed any more. We even started skinny dipping together again. However, sex was still kind of a forbidden subject. Until one day…

Four

Kissing 101


Susie asked me if I had ever kissed a girl. What the heck???

“Well, yeah. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“I’ve made out with a few girls.” I named two, and I was totally lying about one. The other had a reputation in our school, and she had been drinking.

“Did they like it?”

“Nobody’s complained yet.”

I could see her trying to amp up her courage. “What’s on your mind, Suzie Q?” I asked.

“Um…”

“Um?”

“Um…”

“Come on...”

“Barry-Bear?”

“Yes, Susie Bear?”

“Um… would you show me how to kiss?”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Of all the possible things she could have asked, that wasn’t on the list. She saw my expression and immediately went into Total Flap Mode, turning bright red and hiding her face.

“OhgodOhgod, I’m sorry! Forget I said anything!”

“No, no, it’s all right Suze, you just caught me off guard. Are you serious? Wait, that’s wrong. I know you’re serious; you wouldn’t joke about that.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” she agreed, without a trace of irony or smirk.

“But… Susie… Why do you think you need to learn to kiss? Doesn’t it just come natural?”

“Well maybe to you it does, but the girls all talk about how so-and-so is a great kisser, and that one isn’t, and I don’t want to have to ask them what makes the difference. And I sure don’t want to be a bad kisser my first time.”

“So you haven’t kissed a guy yet?” I asked, incredulous.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Haha, yeah kinda. You are so pretty and popular, I just assumed…”

She grinned and punched my arm gently, and then hugged me. “You goober. But thank you, no I haven’t kissed anybody. I got a peck on the cheek from Milton after his folks’ block party, and that’s been it.”

I thought about it for a few seconds. “Do you have a certain guy in mind that you want to kiss?” I asked.

“Well, there’s a couple I’m hoping will ask me out, but it would probably just be to the Dairy Queen or something. It’s just that, eventually I’m going to get to go to a movie with somebody, and I want to be ready.”

“Ah. I see,” I said thoughtfully. Then, “All right, kissing class is in session. Be sure to take notes; there will be a test, and it will be worth a quarter of your grade.”

“Shut up!” She slapped my arm softly, grinning. “Now kiss me, you jerk!”

She grabbed me around the neck and drew me close. She smelled wonderful; a mix of her natural scent and maybe her deodorant. Or her conditioner; I don’t know. All I knew was that her eyes seemed unnaturally large from there, and I suddenly had the feeling of being in over my head. Nevertheless, I persevered. I puckered up and gave her a nice firm grandmotherly peck on the lips. She backed away and glowered at me.

“That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s how I want you to kiss a boy.”

“Phhht! As if I would, and you know it!”

“What? You think I’m going to teach my dear little sister how to get herself in trouble with a guy?”

“So teach me how to defend myself when he gets out of hand! I’m going to learn this sooner or later, Bear-Bear. I’d like it to be from someone I can trust not to take advantage of me!”

“Okay, you’re on. Not about kissing, but definitely about self-defense.”

She folded her arms and pouted.

“Aghhh, I’m teasing ya,” I guffawed. “You should see your face! Put a prune to shame! Come on, we’ll kiss for real.”

Things got a little awkward after that. I tried to keep it professional, but her scent really got into my head. I started with a very soft nuzzle with my lips slightly parted.

“Just open your mouth a little bit. Dry, no tongue yet,” I said.

“Tongue?”

“Later. Much later.”

“Okay,” she chirped happily, and she closed her eyes and assumed her position again, tilting her face up toward me, her lips slightly parted. She was so beautiful like that, I wanted to freeze that image forever.

I bent toward her and just lightly brushed her lips with mine again. Then I pressed my mouth to hers ever so lightly. I felt her whole body start to relax. She seemed to soften in my arms. I held my lips to hers for a few seconds, then started to roll my head ever so slightly, pulling gently at her lips. I felt her gasp ever so slightly. Then her eyes popped open and she pulled back.

“My god, Bear, what are you doing to me?”

“What? You wanted to know how to kiss!”

“Hm. Yes, I did. It feels like you’re showing me how to BE kissed!”

“Well, I’m demonstrating how to do it. Now you do it to me.”

“Huh. Okay.”

She leaned in again, and this time she took the initiative. She held my head in her hands and worked my lips with hers, slowly rotating her mouth very slightly. Wow! I got a huge rush right in the groin area. This seemed to be going way beyond the curriculum.

After about a minute of that, she pulled back, and I could see she was flushed.

“How was that?” she asked.

“I… I think I’m a very good teacher,” I cracked, my voice breaking a little.

She made a face. “Awww… no compliments for the student?”

“Haha… you’re an excellent student too!” I said.

“Thank you, Professor,” she beamed. “So, is there another lesson?”

“Oh, lots! We’ve just scratched the surface. That was Kissing 101.”

“Oh goodie! What’s next?”

I confess I was drawing more on observation and imagination than experience here. I’d seen our folks make out, and been to a few romantic movies with dates. My one kissing experience had been pretty messy, and I didn’t intend to repeat that with anybody. Mostly I was making it up on the fly. I had a sense of what romantic kissing should be like; how I myself would like to be kissed; and here I was teaching it to my darling sister. I was sure I was going to hell; might as well enjoy the ride, right?

“Okay, well, ‘making out’ isn’t only about kissing on the lips.”

“No?”

“It starts with the hug. You use both hands, and you keep it friendly at first.”

“Okay.” She wrapped her arms around me, which brought her face to within an inch of mine.

“Now follow my lead.” I bent my head forward and gave her a light peck on the side of her face, near her ear. Then I ran my lips down her jaw to her neck and gave her a series of light kisses around her collarbone. She gasped and quivered. Then she backed away, her hand on my chest.

“Bear! Are you teaching me kissing, or foreplay?”

I laughed. “And what does my innocent little sister know about foreplay?”

“More every minute, it seems like!” she growled.

“Baby Bear, the kind of kissing you’re asking for IS foreplay. Its whole job is to get your body ready for sex. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

It was getting dark out, and there was no light on in our room, but I could make out her thoughtful expression.

“I’m sorry, Bro-bear; I didn’t think of that. You’re right. It’s kind of scary when you put it like that.”

“Exactly, Susie-bear, it IS scary. Ask our mom!”

She studied me in the fading light for what seemed like a long time. Then she said, “We’ve been really lucky, huh? I mean, look at all those girls whose lives are ruined by getting pregnant. Mom got a really good guy, but that doesn’t happen very often.”

“No, it doesn’t. So I don’t want you kissing any guys until you’re standing in front of a preacher and he says, ‘You may now kiss the bride’!”

“Haha, fuck you!” Susie laughed, and she threw herself on top of me and started to tickle me really hard. I’m damned ticklish, and she knew just where to hit me from long experience. I tickled her back, but she was winning. Then she was suddenly still, gripping my head and kissing me hard. Her mouth was open, and her tongue was all the way against mine. Something snapped in my mind, and I grabbed her head also and started to return her kiss. We held like that for what seemed like hours, alternating between dreamy caresses with our lips and tongues and passionate orgies of sucking each other’s mouths inside out.

Eventually, we flung our sweating bodies apart and gasped for air.

“My god!” Sue exclaimed, “I think I lost a filling!”

I made a show of checking my own mouth with my fingers. “I have it.”

“Yeah, right.”

We were silent for a minute. Then she said, “Seriously, Bear, that was awesome! I’ve never felt like that with a guy in my life.”

“Shit, I should hope not!” I grumbled.

“Well, what would you do if I DID, smartypants?” She got up on one elbow to face me. “You going to follow me around and check my temperature while I’m making out with my dates?”

“If I have to. I’ll install a horniness meter on you and monitor your moods. If you get too high, we’ll have to abort the mission.”

She punched my arm again. “You booger, you’d do that, wouldn’t you?”

“Damn right. I got to protect my baby sister-bear, even if it’s from herself.”

“Well, how about if I’m just making out with my Bro-Bear? That would be safe, right?”

“I’d allow it,” I grinned.

“Haha, I thought you’d say that! You brat! Come here and get your punishment!”

She grabbed me around the neck and started kissing me again, strongly and fervently. She ran her open lips all around my cheeks and down my neck, pulled my T-shirt down and kissed me all across my upper chest. I was getting seriously hard, and I couldn’t help pressing myself against her thigh. She felt it, and suddenly stopped.

“What the hell is THIS?” she cried, grabbing my throbbing dick through my jeans.

“What the hell do you THINK it is?” I groaned, “I’m not made of stone, you know.”

She laughed merrily. “Well, it feels like PART of you is! How long has this been going on?”

“Uh… what time did you ask me about kissing?”

“Nah. I would have noticed before this.”

“Really? You keep track of my hardons?”

“You’re really a booger, you know that, Bro? Yes, I have been keeping a log of your engorgements. I observe and record every embarrassing involuntary erection and wet dream. It’s all going in my dissertation.”

“Yeah? Well I’ve been keeping a diary of… every time I notice your nips get hard. And I check your panties for crusty secretions.”

“Ewww!” She smacked me hard on the shoulder. “That would be really gross, but I know you’re kidding because I don’t wear panties. Which you know because you see me dress and undress all the time. So you’re just being a booger. Come here, booger, I’m not done punishing you yet.”

We kissed until it got really dark, and then we heard our mom come home.

“Kids,” she yelled from the kitchen, “Come help me make dinner real quick, your dad is getting home soon and my meeting ran late!”

We got up stiffly and straightened our clothes. I brushed Susie’s hair back where it was stuck to her cheek, and she yanked my T-shirt into position. Then we sauntered into the kitchen as casually as if our whole world hadn’t turned upside down that day…

Five

Lovers


So we did “kissing practice” quite a bit after that. We got pretty good at it. We developed a large repertoire of kisses – platonic, pastoral, affectionate, romantic, passionate, epic and orgasmic. I would get achingly hard, and Susie would get sopping wet. She got to where she would put a big wad of toilet paper between her legs before we started so it wouldn’t get all over the bed. We practiced kissing without touching ourselves or each other, to see if we could inspire a spontaneous orgasm. At first we just blue-balled each other, and when we couldn’t stand it any more, we broke down and handled ourselves to completion. We weren’t quite ready to touch each other’s parts again just yet.

But the day did come when we were feeling extra horny, and after about half an hour of very wet kissing, Susan shuddered to a very small but nice orgasm. Then after she recovered, she set about giving me one. She let me give her mouth a real workout, holding her head and hugging her tight, and after straining for about another 20 minutes, I started spurting into my briefs. She cheered like I had scored a touchdown. Then we quickly rinsed our underwear in the bathroom, opened the windows and sprayed Lysol around to hide the smell of sex from our parents.

During all this time, neither of us went on any actual dates with anyone else. More often than not, we’d wind up getting a burger or chili fries together and taking it to the park to play on the swings and the jungle gym. We had to be careful not to show any display of affection, because a lot of people in the neighborhood knew us. If they wondered why us two siblings were still hanging out together all the time so long past childhood, they never mentioned it.

I think this went on for about a year, so I’d be about 15 when things moved forward for us again. Susan was getting hotter looking all the time, and still turning down all the offers she was getting from guys. You’d think people would be getting suspicious, but we were being really sly about not letting our relationship be too obvious. And actually, aside from our increasingly passionate kissing sessions, we were being very platonic most of the time.

Well, one day after school, home alone and horny as hell, things took another turn. We had both become pretty strong, me from my football workouts and her from just being thirteen-year-old Susan. She was sinewy as a young deer, quick and flexible. Something set us off; I don’t remember what; but we were suddenly on the living room carpet, wrestling like two big cats. We were all amped up on teenage adrenaline and hormones, confused as hell and on the verge of madness. We both knew some wrestling holds, but we knew how to break them too, and although I had about a 20 pound weight advantage, we were pretty evenly matched.

After about ten minutes of this, we stopped for a breather, gasping and laughing our fool heads off. Then Susan suddenly reached down and grabbed my dick, which was sticking way out against my pants.

“What the hell is THIS?” she yelled with mock indignation.

“Haha, you know damn well what that is,” I yelled back. Then before she could react, I reached for the crotch of her slacks, which was soaking wet. “How about you? Did you pee your pants or something?”

She slapped my hand away, but didn’t stop grinning. “You goober! I’m just sweaty down there. It’s hot and we’ve been wrestling.”

“Yeah, right.” I rubbed my fingers together, feeling the slippery moisture. “Nice try, sweat hog. This is juice.”

“I know! I’m super horny!”

I was surprised at her confession, expecting her to keep trying to play it off.

“Me too. I’m about to bust a nut just sitting here.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then all hell broke loose. Before we knew it, we had torn each other’s clothes off and were rolling around on the carpet naked, leaving spots of our secretions here and there. I wound up on my back with Susan on top of me. She grabbed my dick and yanked on it firmly.

“What are we going to do, Bear?” she lamented, “I want to stay a virgin at least until I’m older. And I don’t want anybody but you inside me. I want you to take my virginity. But until then, we have to do something about this… horniness! I’m going crazy!”

I held her close, our sweat making our bodies slip and slide against each other. I kissed her tenderly.

“We’re going to love each other in every way but THAT one… sticking it inside you.”

“Every way? What other ways are there?”

I kissed her again, then rolled her off me. I turned her onto her back and bent over her crotch. She stiffened as she realized what I was going to do.

“Noooo, Bear-Bear, that’s nasty!”

“Why, Sue? I WANT to do this!”

“Aaaagh, it’s all yucky down there. At least let me shower first.”

I sniffed her. She actually had only a faint scent, but it was loaded with pheromones, and I felt another rush of lust. I couldn’t wait any longer. I placed my hands firmly on her hips and laid my lips over her mound. She cringed strongly, and her fingers went into my hair, pressing my head down against herself. I sucked gently over her whole pubic region, then let my tongue introduce itself to her slit. Little by little, feeling her reaction to what I was doing, I learned the map of her sex. Finally, I sucked a little on the nub of her clit, and that was all she wrote. Every muscle in her body clenched, and I felt the tiny lump in my mouth twitch rhythmically, very fast. She nearly screamed with ecstasy.

I stopped my oral activities, sat up on one elbow and wiped my mouth. For nearly a full minute, she lay there gasping for air and quivering with aftershocks. Then she raised her head a little and looked at me.

“Ah… so, THOSE other ways!” she grinned. Then she struggled to sit up, and gently pushed me backward. I lay on the carpet and gazed into her eyes. She lowered her face to mine and kissed me very tenderly.

“So, how do you like your own taste?” I teased.

“I like it. But I’ve known how I taste for years. I’m a very naughty girl.”

“So I’ve noticed. And I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”

“Right now I want to find out how YOU taste.”

My sister grabbed my hard dick, now fully grown to manhood, and lowered her mouth over it. I groaned in anticipation and laid my head back to experience this. The warmth of her mouth on me shot fire throughout my nervous system. I laid my hand on her naked thigh, and she didn’t object. She lowered her mouth as far as it would go, leaving two-thirds of my dick exposed. Then she raised her head a little and worked her mouth around the top, licking and lapping with her tongue, then sucking more and more strongly on it. I felt the sap rising in my loins.

Instinctively, she placed one hand softly on my aching balls and the other on the shaft and started to jack me while gnawing very lightly on the head. I tried to blurt out a warning, but it was too late. Before she could react, the geyser overflowed her mouth and splashed onto her cheek. Surprisingly, after a second’s hesitation, she bent down and finished sucking the last spasms out of me. Then she turned her head to face me, still gripping my now slowly deflating penis.

“I’m going to do that every time, Bear-Bear,” she stated firmly. “Next time, I’m going to swallow every drop, and every time after that.”

“Awww… Sue-bear, you are such an awesome sister! That was… fantastic! Thank you so much!”

She let go of me and came to lie on the carpet next to me, placing her palm on my chest and gazing tenderly into my eyes.

“Barry, you know, we’re more than brother and sister now. We’re lovers.”

Six

Intimacy


So it was at about that point that we became not only sexually involved, but romantically connected. Things seemed to have always been growing in this direction, and every step toward adulthood just brought us closer to being life partners too. We were best friends from the beginning, and we had no intentions of ever messing that up. Even our little squabbles were not serious; more like play-acting, just for an excuse to enjoy make-up sex. For certain values of “sex”, anyway.

We explored every aspect of this newfound intimacy that we could discover or invent. Not having access to actual porn; this being the pre-sexual-revolution early 1960’s; we nevertheless managed to put our hands on some “adult education” books. (You had to wonder why “adults” needed this kind of education, but whatever.) We had no trouble imagining that our parents knew and practiced all these moves and more, and although we giggled about it, we weren’t bothered or cringed by it at all; we were proud of them for being such free spirits.

So we gave each other head in every conceivable place and position, finding out what we really liked and didn’t. One thing that looked good on paper and didn’t work out so well for us was the infamous sixty-nine. It’s fun for a few minutes, but you can’t concentrate on getting off AND getting your partner off at the same time. It was great for tantric edging, though; when we had the opportunity of a long uninterrupted afternoon, we could go for an hour or more, riding the waves of almost-coming until we gave in and finished some other way, or we wound up not finishing at all; just trailing off to nothing. Those occasions were almost as satisfying; leaving us with a loving glow and the promise of continuation soon.

We had resumed going naked around each other all the time when we were home alone; the difference now being that, except when we had just had completely exhausting orgasms, we were in a perpetual state of arousal. Swimming, making snacks, doing housework, reading or whatever, I sported a nearly priapistic hard-on, and Susie’s inner thighs were always glistening with her secretions. She had to lay a towel down to sit on a chair, or keep a wad of toilet paper shoved up against her vagina. Otherwise, she carried a small towel around with her and kept wiping up the goop. She said it tickled and itched if she just left it there, which I totally understood.

It didn’t help that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Whatever we were doing, when we went by each other I’d grab her boob or she’d give my dick a yank, smack each other’s butts or snatch a quick kiss. It became a fun game to see how close we could get to making each other cum while going on about our regular business as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Homework was the one exception; we really had to concentrate on that, and we did it in separate rooms unless one of us needed help with it from the other.

Otherwise, hardly a day went by when we were home alone that didn’t find us lounging side by side on our bed or on the sofa, reading, munching chips and casually playing with each other’s parts. Or one of us might be doing the dishes or making a sandwich, and the other come up behind and give an affectionate embrace, get an over-the-shoulder kiss and reach around to fondle my, or her, privates. The idea was to do as much perverted stuff as we could while acting as totally “Leave-it-to-Beaver”, “Ozzie-and-Harriet” and “I-Love-Lucy” G-rated-family-normal. We got really good at it, and anyone watching might have had to look very close and do a couple of double takes before they realized that we were a brother and sister engaged in constant naked foreplay.

One day I noticed something different about Susan; she had shaved off all her pubic hair. Pretty much everything turned me on in those days – I was 15, for god’s sake – but this was a real bombshell.

“Wow, Babe, when did you do that?” I asked.

“Just today. You like it?”

“Oh wow! I can’t tell you enough how MUCH I like it! I’ll have to show you!”

“Hahah, I know, huh?”

“What gave you the idea to do that?”

“Well I was taking a shower while you were at practice, getting all clean for my Honey-bear, and I was shaving my legs and pits, and I was just trimming the edges so I didn’t look so, uh, cave-woman, and I just thought, hey, why stop there? It took awhile, but I finally got it all done. By the way, we need more blades; I used all but the one in Dad’s razor.”

Her blonde pubes had never been that unruly; her body hair was very fine and sparse; but this was noticeably different anyway.

“That is so cool!” I rubbed my hands together in exaggerated anticipation. “Can we try it out?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, is it, I dunno, too fresh? I don’t want to irritate it.”

She rubbed her pubic area and said, “No it feels fine. Bring your hand here, feel how smooth it is!”

I had to admit, it was like a newborn babe’s butt. It put me in mind of when we had first started playing around with each other; long before either of us started to show the first signs of adulthood.

Suddenly, with a whoop I bent down, grabbed her around the waist and threw her over my shoulder to carry her down the hall to our bedroom. She squealed with laughter and spanked my butt, and I reached up and spanked hers in return. I threw her on her bed and leaped on top of her. I started kissing her passionately, running my hands all over her boobs and thighs, then tenderly caressing her newly shorn pussy. My dick was harder than the proverbial Chinese arithmetic. She reached for it, but I wanted to experience this without distraction. I moved around so I was on my stomach between her legs. She made a pouty face, but she knew she would have her turn.

I shoved my arms under her thighs and brought my hands down to where my fingers had full access to her lobes. I stroked them lightly, making her twitch a little. Then, gripping her small thighs firmly, I lowered my mouth over her sweet little pudding and just brushed it with my parted lips. She seized up at that with a slight gasp. I repeated this more firmly, and then laid my open mouth against her baby flesh, enveloping her entire mound and drawing it in very softly. She laid her hands on my head but did not push, just rested them there. She was starting to quiver all over, and I was afraid of bringing her off too soon.

Since she was just fresh from the shower, there was no taste or smell whatever. Later, I would come to appreciate her natural musk without the more pungent notes from her pubic hair. Also, shaved like this, she seemed suspended in eternal childhood, the attraction of which gave me an occasional twinge of conscience. But then I would think; hey, no curly hairs getting up my nose, so all is well.

I drew my open lips slowly together against her mound over and over, pleasuring her entire region. Then, cupping her sex with my open mouth, I lowered my tongue to the bottom of her cleft, near the edge of her vaginal opening, and brought it slowly up her valley, keeping a slight suction so that the entire inside of my mouth was in constant contact with her soft tissues. When my tongue reached the top of her groove, I let it barely touch her clit, making her jump and groan.

“Damn, Bear, oh my god!” she gasped, “I’m so close! Don’t make me cum yet. I want to ride this awhile.”

I didn’t answer, but I let go of her legs and let her knees drop to the bed. Then I laid my arms over her thighs and placed my hands on her hips and started to slowly and tenderly caress her body. Without breaking contact with my mouth, but not working her most sensitive spot either, I ran my hands over her sides, belly, around her back and buttocks, and then up to her small breasts, cupping them and feeling her nipples harden against my palms. This provided enough of a distraction to enable her to maintain her “high” without going over the top. She placed her hands over mine and pressed them tighter against her boobs. Then, in a fever of emotion, she took hold of my left forefinger and put it in her mouth, sucking firmly on it and chewing it lightly with her molars, eyes closed and making soft mewling sounds.

Finally, I returned to my task at hand. It was time for the finale. I placed my hands under her buttocks and gripped them firmly, raising her pelvis a little to get a better angle. I resumed my “goldfish” action with my lips, opening and closing them over her skin, concentrating now on the top of her twin ridges where the little man in the boat was standing tall and firm. I sucked very lightly as I did so, drawing her plump flesh upward in a rolling wave, making her twinge and buck as the tsunami approached. It didn’t take long. Muscles and sinews strained to the breaking point, and then she came with an audible cracking of joints. I nearly lost my grip on her rippling haunches, but I held on tight so I could continue to send waves of ecstasy through her body, sucking firmly on her clit and thrashing it with the tip of my tongue until she cried for me to stop, pushing my head away with both hands. There was a flood of her cum running down the crack of her ass and making a dark stain on the bed. Her entire body was coated with a sheen of perspiration.

She took a long time to recover her breath. When she did, she said, “Okay, Bear-Bear, where did you learn to do THAT?”

“I’ll never tell,” I chortled. Then, seriously, “Partly, I already know what you like. And I’m just going with whatever feels right. Instinct. When something works, I do more of it. Try new things and see where it goes. You know, you do that too. You know all the secrets to making me go crazy; at least all the ones I know about. You’ll probably come up with some more as time goes on.”

“Oh, you better believe it, Mister!” she gloated. “And speaking of which, it’s your turn. Agh! As soon as I can move again. Ugh, ugh… Oh-damn-I-seem-to-be-paralyzed. It’s all your fault, Bro-Bear. You broke me.”

“Awww, shucks,” I mourned, “That’s okay Baby-bear, I’ll do it. Open wide!”

I maneuvered around until I was kneeling above her head facing toward her feet. Then I bent forward and lowered my spear down to her face. She reached up with one hand and guided it into her open mouth. Then she lay still like a mummy again while I started slow thrusting motions. I knew not to go too deep, but she raised her head a little as if eager to swallow more.

“Really?” I asked.

She patted my legs with her hands, indicating for me to back up. She rolled over, grabbed her pillow and tucked it under her shoulders, then lay back with her head resting on the bed, almost upside down. She pulled me back in, and I felt my rod going deeper into her mouth than ever before.

“What are you up to, you little minx?” I asked.

She just kept pulling on the back of my thighs, and I complied. In this position, it was almost a straight shot from her mouth down her throat. I began to catch on. Could she really do this, I wondered? I didn’t want to make her gag. I stared in wonder as inch after inch of my bone sank into her clutching lips. She was still pulling on me when my pubic hair pressed solidly against her chin, my balls bumping against her nose. I felt her front teeth fasten ever so lightly on the very base of my dick, emphasizing just how deep into her throat I was. I could have passed out from sheer joy, except for my concern for my sister.

“Sue? Are you okay with this?” I asked.

She made a circle with her thumb and forefinger; A-OK. I knelt there, marinating my pickle in her hot throat for what seemed like an age, and she finally patted my legs again and I pulled out. She drew a deep breath.

“My god, Susan, how in hell do you do that?”

She grinned mischievously. “I’ll never tell.”

“Touché” I admitted. “But, Baby Bear, you’re scaring me! How does my innocent thirteen-year-old sister know how to do that? How does ANYONE know how to do that?”

“Okay,” she said, “first, who says I’m so innocent? I’ve had plenty of time being corrupted by my big brother! And second, if you let me finish you off, I’ll show you how I did it.”

“Deal,” I conceded, “but promise me that I’m not hurting you like that.”

“Promise. Now get down here and give me a nice juicy load of bear grease.”

Hearing my little blonde angel talk so slutty just sweetened the bargain. I charged back in and she took my whole length in one gulp. Now she placed one hand on my butt and with the other she fondled my balls. The sensation of being buried in her jaws halfway to her stomach while she gently rolled my nuts around in her fingers nearly brought me to orgasm right then and there.

Then she gripped my butt with both hands, indicating she wanted me to start pumping. I obeyed, pulling nearly all the way out of her lips and then slowly pushing it back in, sensing the pressure of her hands on my ass to guide my speed and depth. Incredibly, she was able to take my full length over and over, faster and faster. I stared down at my piston plunging in and out of my baby sister’s mouth, making her throat bulge with each stroke. She let go of my butt and waved her cupped hands toward herself, as if to say, “Go! Go!”

I couldn’t take it any more. I lowered my upper body to where I could get my arms around her legs and clutched her tight. Then I started pounding into her face harder and harder, expecting at any moment for her to smack my ass for me to stop, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to. I wondered if she could breathe at all. I needed to hurry and get out of there before she passed out, I knew. Then suddenly, it was over. I felt a burst of electricity in every nerve and the sensation of sending a flood of hot lava straight into my sister’s gut.

Incredibly, she didn’t immediately push me out. In fact, she wrapped her arms around my thighs, much as I was doing to hers, and held me in for another good ten seconds while my dick pumped its last drops directly into her stomach. Finally she released me and I lifted up off her. She took a very deep breath and coughed. I turned to face her, and I’m sure I looked petrified. She just grinned at me and wiped some spit off her lips.

“Holy shit, Angel! Are you okay?” I asked in alarm.

“Never better!” she croaked. She was obviously out of breath and her voice sounded terrible, but she beamed like a Cheshire cat.

“Wow! Just… wow!” I grasped, “I never would have believed anyone could do that.”

“I wasn’t sure either, but I thought I could. Now I KNOW. Pretty cool, huh?”

“I’m incredibly impressed, but a little bothered that my baby sister, the love of my life, has apparently mastered a circus sex act without my knowing.”

“Aw, you know me, I’m full of surprises. Come on, I’ll show you something.”

I followed her into the kitchen, where she went to the refrigerator, reached deep into the bottom shelf at the back and came up with a salami wrapped in plastic. It was just about the diameter of my dick, and about half again as long. She unwrapped it and spread some cooking oil on it.

“I think I see where you’re going with this…” I ventured.

She held up a finger for silence, threw her head back and lowered one end of the salami into her mouth. In two seconds, she had devoured about three-quarters of its length, more than my dick was long. She lowered her head and looked at me, grinning around the end of the salami sticking out of her mouth.

“Can you breathe?” I asked with concern.

She shook her head. “Well take it out, dummy, you’re scaring me!”

She tilted her head back toward the ceiling and pulled the cylinder of meat out of her mouth, keeping her lips closed around it so she didn’t slobber on it. When it was out, it was only a little wet and there was only a drop of spit on her lip.

“So you’ve been practicing!” I exclaimed, as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “When did you do this?”

“Whenever. Just any time I was home by myself. I’ve also been practicing my breathing, diving in the pool and stuff.”

“How long have you been planning this?”

“Ever since we saw it in that book. You didn’t think it was possible, but I did. You just have to do it until you train your gag reflex away.” Her voice was still hoarse.

“You sound terrible. How long is your voice going to be like that?”

“Just a few minutes. It stretches my throat but it goes right back. It would have been normal by now but I did the salami.”

“Oh my god! Oh. My. God! Wow.” I was excited, but weirded out by all this. She was way more advanced in sex than I had thought; more advanced than me. I felt a twinge of jealousy. How would I be able to hang onto this incredible girl, so mature in the ways of love already?

She sensed my unease. “Bro-Bear? What’s wrong?” She put the salami down on the counter and took my hands in hers. “Did I do bad? Did I go too far? I just wanted to make a nice surprise for my Barry-Bear.”

I grinned. “No, Sue-Bear, you did really good. I loved it. I… It’s just… the shaving, and now this… You’re so pretty and smart, and you’re so good at lovemaking, and you just turned teenage. I guess I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“Oh Bear-Bear, no… that’s not what I wanted at all. All I wanted was to please you, to find new things to keep up with you. Look at the mess you made of me today, making me cum like that! You’re the one who’s got the advanced degree in LURVE!”

I hugged her soft naked body to me, feeling her firm little tits against my chest.

“We’re really something, you know that, Susie? You and me, I know we’re way ahead of any kids our age, and probably most adults. I don’t know where we get it, but I’m not complaining. I think I just want to know that you’ll always be mine. There, I said it. I want you for the rest of my life. It’s probably not fair to you, to try to lock your heart up like this, but I can’t help it.”

I felt dampness on my chest. I looked down at her, and she was bawling. Not just little ladylike tears – oceans. She hugged me until my back cracked.

“Bro-bear,” she choked, “I’ve ALWAYS felt that way about you! I couldn’t stand it when you started getting so studly looking and you were going out with those girls! I wanted you to be my geeky, awkward silly old bear who would always be with me and teach me and protect me. I’ve been trying to find ways to keep you interested in me, with sex, or being pretty and smart and fun to be around, and I’m terrified that some day it won’t be enough.”

Now I was sobbing too, dripping tears into her fine blond hair, rubbing my thumbs over her shoulders. I pulled back and looked at her reddened eyes and her hair all stuck to her cheeks, and we both laughed.

“You should see yourself!” she jibed. She wiped the tears off my face with her fingers. Then she gripped my head and drew me in for a long, loving kiss. Neither of us had to say anything else. We knew. We were no longer just brother and sister; no longer just lovers. We were a couple.

I’m starting to think /elit/ might not be the best venue for my memoir after all. I’ve now read through or at least skimmed all the threads, and I haven’t found one other story that claims to be Real Life (r), including the many told in the first person. I haven’t gotten much respect on other chans, where everything I try to share becomes a referendum on its truth, demands for pictures, etc. I like the support and feedback that the readers give here, but I’m concerned that they might be uncomfortable knowing these were real people having had real experiences, rather than a collection of fantasies. If someone knows where my tale might find an appreciative, or even accepting, audience and serious responses, I’d appreciate being informed. I’ll wait for some feedback here before posting any more chapters.

I'd expect over 60 years that you'd have more than just this story to tell... Have any been written down yet, and where can we find them if so? How does Steven turn into Barry?

The roleplaying is straining my suspension of disbelie.

>>25579
As you might've realized, elit isn't the most active board. However do not let that discourage you! There are plenty of readers everyday checking by to see their favourites updated, or new stories introduced. Myself being one of those.

I've taken a liking to your story, fact or fiction doesn't matter much to me, I'm just looking for a well written story to check up on here and there.
I was just a tad disappointed that The Garden chapter ended so fast. I would've loved some more experiences be told from that point in the story, it feels like everything is moving ahead so fast. Still, I'm much eager to see what more lies in store for us readers. So I hope my comment might inspire you to keep posting.

Thank you for your responses, they are very encouraging. I’m beginning to think that perhaps I’m working against myself by insisting that this is a partially fictionalized account of reality – however true – rather than a complete fantasy. It puts too much stress on the reader who can’t help finding loose threads in the telling, and pulling on them until the whole skein falls apart. Lesson learned; future stories will be presented as fiction, however drawn from my own experience they may be.

>> 25580

>I'd expect over 60 years that you'd have more than just this story to tell... Have any been written down yet, and where can we find them if so?

The 60 years I mentioned was from the beginning of our sex life; I’m actually 70 now. I’ve been writing non-porn fiction for my own enjoyment most of my life, but haven’t had the balls to submit any of it for publishing or even posting anywhere on line. This was actually my first attempt at erotic prose, although having read a lot of porn in the last week while looking for the right place to post mine, I’m beginning to feel inspired to write some more. So perhaps soon…

>How does Steven turn into Barry?

Another blunder on my part. “Steven R. Overton” (SRO) was a pen name I was going to use a few years ago when I was contemplating getting some of my short stories published, but nothing ever came of it. “Barry” is the name of my pseudonymous self in my story, chosen because I thought it lent itself to an amusing variety of childish endearments. Of course our real names couldn’t be used. My sister and I used even more cringeworthy corruptions of each other’s actual names throughout our lives.

Anyway, now I think “Steven R. Overton” is pretentious, so I’ll start identifying myself as just “SRO”.

> The roleplaying is straining my suspension of disbelie.

Not sure what you mean by “roleplaying”. As I noted above, I realize that portraying events as even partially fictionalized history, rather than a total fabrication, places the bar for suspension of disbelief too high. Look at the vast number of people in the world who disbelieve many events of ACTUAL history, despite overwhelming physical evidence, living testimony and documentation. So it’s not surprising that a yarn like mine could be looked at askance.

>>25581

Thank you very much for your encouragement, I’m just getting my feet wet and stepping in some pretty big holes ATM. So any positive and constructive criticism is welcome. In spite of my gaffes, I’m enjoying the experience.

>I was just a tad disappointed that The Garden chapter ended so fast. I would've loved some more experiences be told from that point in the story, it feels like everything is moving ahead so fast.

“The Garden” was mostly written as backstory, just to set the scene and introduce ourselves. A great deal did happen during that time, of course, but mostly typical childhood experiences that I didn’t think would be interesting to this audience, so I didn’t want to spend a lot of time on it. One exception was the nudist camp, which I thought deserved some exposition, and I could expand on it some more in the future. It wasn’t sexual in the common manner of speaking, but to people not used to nudism, probably interesting. Except for “Susie’s” masturbation, sex wasn’t much a part of our lives until we were approaching puberty. However, I do have a fertile imagination, so I could conjure up some speculations in future (fictional) installments.

I should also emphasize that I’ve chosen just a few of the more memorable and watershed events in our sexual and emotional development, and that there were many more experiences that I can elaborate on if there’s interest. On the other hand, I’ve decided not to post the last two chapters of this memoir unless there is demand for it. They cover our later adult lives, and they are possibly not very interesting to /elit/.

Seven

The Surprise


We lived in deadly fear of making Susan pregnant. She had been having periods since she was 10, and if she was anything like our mom, she could get pregnant even if I pulled out of her. We could have gotten condoms at a price from a kid who was stealing them from his dad’s sock drawer, but we weren’t entirely trusting of those either. So we stuck to as many other kinds of sex as we could think of, especially hands and oral. Then one day we discovered another one.

I was about 16, I think, and I had transferred to a public high school to be in their football program. I really enjoyed the activity, getting my frustrations out in the scrimmages and getting all banged up and worn out every day. Yah, I don’t understand it either. Susan would have been 14, and she had stayed in the academy and was starting to follow her mom’s passion for the arts. She was a good artist and had a flair for composition and design. She started going to Disney movies with her girlfriends just to see the art of the animations. She hoped eventually to be an animation artist.

So anyway, I got home from school one day, our folks were both still out, and Susan’s school was on break so she had been home all day. She greeted me naked as usual and gave me a big “welcome home” kiss.

She had a mischievous look in her eye, and I suspiciously said “Um, what’s up?”

In a sing-song voice, she said, “I’ve got a surpriiiiise for youuuu…”

“Yah? Lay it on me Sue-bear!”

“Go into the bedroom.”

“Oooo-kayyyy…”

I walked past her down the hall and into our bedroom, with Sue following behind. There was nothing unusual that I could see. I turned to look at her, mystified. She still had that devilish grin.

“Take off your clothes,” she ordered. I complied, throwing my school clothes in a corner.

“Now, sit down.” I sat.

All this time, she had been facing me, being careful not to show me her back. Now, she turned around. I was stunned. Sticking out of her cute little butt was the visible one-third of a large unripe banana!

“Holy shit, Sue-bear, what is that?” I cried.

“That’s your surprise, Bear-Bear! I wanted to be all stretched out and ready for you when you got home. I want you to know it took me 15 minutes to get it in, so I’m glad I didn’t just say ‘go for it!’, that would have hurt.”

I was astounded by her imagination and generosity. “Oh my god, Susan, this is so… awesome! How did you come up with this?”

“Well, I have to admit it wasn’t my whole idea. Some of the girls at school have been having sex with their boyfriends, and they had this idea to let them have sex without getting pregnant. They said you have to stretch it out very slowly with something first, or it will hurt like hell and maybe tear your butthole.”

“Does it hurt right now?” I asked, concerned.

“It’s a little uncomfortable, but I’m so turned on right now, I don’t even care. I played with myself the whole time I was putting it in, and I’m about ready to cum!”

She backed toward me until she was right in front of me. “Now, take it out and put something else in there.”

I grinned and reached for the banana. It didn’t come out easily. I wiggled it from side to side, finding it securely locked between her muscular glutes. Then, it slowly began to slide out in my hand. It finally came out, clean and shiny. I was a little surprised to see that her brown hole remained gaped open a little.

“What did you use for lube?” I asked.

She held out a bottle of cooking oil from the kitchen. “Same as what you’re going to use,” she grinned. I put the banana down and took the bottle, preparing to pour some on my hand to spread on my dick. Then she stopped me.

“Oh wait! Part of the service!”

She turned toward me and bent down to grab my dick, and gave it a nice long, loving suck. I was already hard as a rock, but now I was sticking up like the Washington Monument.

“Okay,” she said, standing and turning around again, “It’s showtime!”

I lubed myself up liberally, put the bottle on the floor and then took hold of my little sister’s hips, guiding her down slowly over my achingly stiff rod. She put her hands on my thighs to control her descent, while I took hold of myself to aim it right. At the first contact of the head of my dick with her open back door, I felt my whole body twitch.

“My god, Susan! This is incredible!”

“I know, right? Keep going, it’s just going to get better.”

She continued to lower herself, inch by inch, until her satiny butt was resting comfortably on my lap, and my man-sized cock was buried to the roots in her rectum. I wrapped my arms around her waist and she leaned back into me. I smelled her perfumed hair. She rested her hands on my arms and gave my dick a little squeeze with her inner fist. I let out a loud groan of pleasure, to which she laughed delightedly.

“How’s that, Bro-ham?” she grinned over her shoulder.

I gave her a strong kiss. “In-fucking-credible!” I exclaimed. I let one hand slide down her tummy to her smooth pussy and played with the lips a little. She quivered and gave a moan. I gripped her waist firmly with my other arm and started to hump up into her body. She was crying “Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby…” I bore down on her clit with my wet finger, rubbing it just the way I knew she liked it, and felt the electricity rising in both of us. She tensed her whole body and let out a savage yell. Incredibly, I felt her ring muscles clamp down on me almost painfully, pounding out her orgasm with rapid, powerful contractions. That was all it took for me. I felt my hot load firing up inside her like a volcano.

I lay back on the bed, and Susan lay back on top of me. We were both twitching and spasming for several minutes. I held her in place for the longest time, her hands resting on mine, not seeming to want to move. I slowly shrank out of her, and I felt the cool dampness of our juices on my balls. Finally, she spoke.

“So how did you like your surprise, Barry-Bear?”

“I think you know I liked it a TON, Sweet Susie. How was it for you?”

She laughed. “Very kinky! I like it!”

“Yeah? Didn’t hurt too much?”

“Aw no! That turned me on like crazy! I may turn out to like anal better than the other way. Though I need more tests to know for sure, Haha!”

“Haha,” I agreed.

Eight

Sixteen


I’ve been giving mostly just the highlights, but I wouldn’t want to leave the impression that our life was just an endless round of ever more adventurous and wild sexual romps. We dealt with many of the typical dramas of teen life at school and home. I can say that we were spared many of the darker issues that plagued so much of our generation. Not having television, we lived in a kind of information bubble, although a leaky one. Of course we knew the larger aspects of current events, and we were rocked by the rising storms of the sixties like everyone else. But in the comfortable shelter of our loving and secure home, we sensed those things only dimly.

Susan and I were more secure in our relationship than ever; gone was the underlying feeling that every step up the ladder of maturity and wisdom in the ways of love was a possible threat to our commitment to each other. At seventeen and fifteen, we were as married as any two life partners anywhere, even our parents. We felt free to concentrate on celebrating and enjoying each new discovery about our bodies and minds together.

Meanwhile, I had given up football, wanting to concentrate my excess energy more on my studies. While Sue leaned increasingly toward art, I was becoming more and more interested in mechanics and technology. We were already starting to think about which college to attend.

One thing that concerned us, however, was the risk of our true relationship being discovered. How we managed to pull it off as long as we did was a mystery to us, and perhaps we weren’t as successful as we liked to think. Whatever their suspicions might have been, our parents and friends never said anything to us about it. Nevertheless, we lived with a faint background noise of paranoia in our ears.

We decided that one solution might be to actually see other people. We knew that it would be unfair to any who might think we were seriously considering them as partners, but the danger of our true relationship being discovered outweighed our ethical concerns. We reasoned that it would only have to be until we were finished with high school, and then we could go off to college where nobody would know that we were brother and sister. It would make sense for us to get our own place together. Those who knew we were lovers wouldn’t know we were siblings, and our folks and friends back home would believe that we were just rooming together for economy.

So we did start dating a little, making sure that it was informal and not seeing any one person too often or letting them think they were the only one. We also made sure our parents knew about them, bringing them home to meet them, showing we were nice responsible kids. Somehow, it seemed to work. Whatever suspicious vibes we’d been getting faded, and a few of our friends even mentioned that it was about time we’d gotten out of our shells.

Interestingly, our little ploy had another effect that we hadn’t anticipated. Unknown to us, our mom had been watching our social life more closely than we thought. As long as we didn’t seem to be showing much interest in the opposite sex, she didn’t worry. But the second time Susan brought a boy home, she took her aside and gave her something. It was birth control pills.

These had just come on the prescription market, for married women only, and Mom had gone to her doctor and said she and her husband wanted to be able to stop using condoms. She didn’t mention that Dad had had a vasectomy right after Susan was born, of course, and they hadn’t used a condom in their lives. She was just afraid that, even though she had a lot of confidence in her daughter, she knew how easy it was for even a “good” girl to have an accident. She warned Susan that they wouldn’t start being effective until she’d been taking them for a couple of weeks.

My sister showed the pills to me with tears of joy in her eyes. The last link in the chain of our sexual bonding was finally being forged. To be on the safe side, we decided to wait a full month. Her sixteenth birthday was coming up, and we planned to celebrate by, among other things, ending her final virginity.

After all those years of expanding sexual discovery, having in our teens reached a point of experimentation not explored by most people in their whole lives, one could be forgiven for thinking that this final episode might be anticlimactic for us. On the contrary, we looked forward to it as the crowning glory of our relationship, the experience that would cement our bond in a way that no formal public ceremony ever could.

“You know it’s going to hurt,” I warned her.

“Well, duh!” she retorted playfully, “I haven’t exactly been living in a cave my whole life. I hear the same things you do.”

“I just hate to cause you any pain.”

“I know, Boo-Bear, and I love you so much for that. But you know what? I’m looking forward to it, pain and all. I think I WANT it to hurt. I want it to be like, a sacrifice to our love or something. To show you how much you mean to me, that I’d go through a thousand times that much pain for you… for US.”

“Wow, Babe, that’s… kind of… Wow! That’s really touching. I feel the same way. And I know you’re up for it; I mean, look at all the things you’ve already done… the banana, the salami…”

We both broke out laughing at the memories, and she play-slapped my arm.

“You booger! I’m so shocked I did that when I was so young. My god, what a precocious child I was!”

“Susie, the salami was just last year!”

“I KNOW. I’m shocked at what a precocious child I still AM! Hey, speaking of which, I need to keep my throat conditioned. Let’s go practice my salami swallowing.”

Our parents and friends had a huge party for the weekend of Susie’s sixteenth birthday. Dad barbecued burgers and hot dogs, and Mom ordered pizza and just a token salad, knowing that the two dozen kids who showed up wouldn’t touch it. Everything took place in the back yard, in and around the pool, with loud music and dancing around and being silly. There was a huge cake, and the birthday girl got thrown in the pool, which was especially satisfying when, instead of flopping awkwardly into the water as expected, she twisted around in midair and turned the launch into a graceful swan dive.

The party ran until well after dark, and then Mom insisted on us helping clean up the worst of the mess, finally agreeing to let the rest go until the next day. With our folks home for the weekend, there was no chance for Susie and me to be intimate. However, it didn’t matter, because her actual birthday wasn’t until the next Tuesday anyway.

As planned, I cut my last class to get home an hour early that day. I darkened our bedroom, lit candles and incense and placed my gift-wrapped present on the bed. We had decided against rose petals, thinking it was a cheesy cliché and a mess besides. I got undressed and poured two flutes of sparkling cider. (We had long ago both agreed to avoid alcohol and drugs at all costs, a promise we kept the rest of our lives.)

Susan arrived and was properly wowed by the sight of me naked, sitting among the candles and incense, holding out her drink to her. She grinned and we clinked our glasses.

“Happy sixteenth birthday, Susan, my Love.”

“Happy sixteenth birthday to me, Sweetheart. I want to celebrate every birthday with you just like this.”

“Naked?”

“YES, naked! Until we’re old and fat and wrinkled and ugly as shit!”

“It’s a date, Babe. We’re going to be the scandal of the nursing home.”

“God I hope so! What’s this?”

I handed her the present, and she tore off the wrapping. It was a bottle of expensive scented massage oil and high quality lube.

“Ooohhh, we’re going to try these out right now!” she exulted, and started to undress.

She was so beautiful there in the half light, her tanned skin glowing with youth, her first womanly curves marbled with a hint of underlying strength. I insisted on giving her a massage, and I made it last a long time. I squeezed the back of her head and neck, worked my way down her back and buttocks, then down her thighs and calves. I paid extra attention to her feet, spending a good five minutes on each one, making her groan with pleasure. Then I turned her over and, making sure to use plenty of oil, I worked her shoulders and arms, then her upper chest and her firm small boobs. It was sexual, and not. Sensuous, for sure. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the ride. I kept going, down her waist and flat, slightly muscular belly, over her slightly widening hips and down her thighs.

Finally, I lay down next to her and pulled her close. She gazed lovingly into my eyes.

“You are such a dear brother to me,” she said. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Are you nervous?” I asked.

“NoNoNo, not at all! Uh-uh! Nope… A little.” She giggled.

I was already aware of the adage “The perfect is the enemy of the good”. I wanted this to be a good experience for her, but didn’t want to make a huge production of it and overwhelm the moment. I started to kiss her very tenderly, running my hands softly over her supple flesh. She responded quickly, faster than I had expected. She reached down to find me quite hard.

In a low voice, she said, “Baby, I’m ready. I was ready when I walked in the door. I’ve been ready all day. I love that you got that nice lube, but it’s really not going to be necessary.”

I felt between her legs, and it was true. She was practically foaming with juice. I rolled her gently onto her back and scooped some of her liquid up with my fingers and spread it on the head of my rock-hard cock. Then I leaned over her and started to bring it home. She stiffened a little at the unfamiliar contact, and I paused until she relaxed again.

“It’s going to take me awhile, I’m so used to not wanting this to happen accidentally,” she said.

“Of course, Sweetheart. Take all the time you need.”

“I’m ready.”

I pressed slowly in, and she tensed again. Then she nodded, and I pushed some more. I felt a small resistance, then a release. We looked at each other.

“Was that it?” she asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done this before.”

“Me either!”

I pressed on, until I was fully engulfed in her warm channel. She clenched her inner muscles, and I felt a surge of sensation in my cock. I pulled back and returned, and she just smiled beautifully.

“Babe,” she said, “that didn’t hurt at all! What the hell are people making such a fuss about?”

“Well, I guess it’s different for everybody. You’d think there should be a bloody mess everywhere and you’d need anesthesia or something, the way most girls go on about it.”

She squirmed against me a little. “Mmmm, this feels good. Now let’s do it!”

I didn’t need to be begged. I started pushing and pulling, and pretty soon she was fully getting into it. She grabbed my butt and matched my rhythm, our pubic bones beating against each other with each stroke.

“OhgodOhgodOhgod…” she chanted. I did my best to hold off cumming, and I did. She dissolved in a torrent of rippling fits and seizures. She had had her first vaginal orgasm on her first try!

“Holy shit, Babe,” she said, “Oh thank you, thank you! That was so awesome! That totally lives up to all the hype. Did you cum?”

“Not yet.”

She wiggled vigorously against me. “Well, cum, Baby, cum!”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I laid into her, lifting her knees to get a better angle, and she wrapped her legs around my back. I pumped like mad, building slowly after having held off so long. To both of our surprise, her face started to contort as she felt another orgasm coming. Now I hammered her as hard as I could, while holding off yet again. It took longer than the first time, but she exploded with an even more forceful climax. It was just in time too, because I couldn’t have held off another second. It felt like I was going to cum forever, filling her with the contents of my entire body.

She slapped the bed with both hands in a paroxysm of sheer joy. “Oh my god!” she repeated over and over, “Baby, thank you, thank you! This is the best birthday ever!”

Nine

Adulthood


We were to learn that being able to have multiple vaginal orgasms was not limited to her first time. She was insatiable after that, testing our bedsprings to their breaking point day after day. I developed considerable abdominal muscles during the next year. Meanwhile, we had a whole inventory of other sexual activities to draw from, so our times together constantly varied.

Our plans for a future together were only vaguely drawn. We thought that after graduation, I’d start in the local college where Dad taught, then after Susan graduated from high school, both of us would transfer to some distant place where we’d need housing and get an apartment or something together. Talking our folks into it without raising suspicions was going to be tricky.

However, those world events that we’d been ignoring all our lives were inexorably slouching their way toward our happy home. It was 1966, I had just turned 18, and I got my draft notice. Since I wasn’t yet in college, there was a good chance I’d be sitting in Vietnam with an M1 in my hands in a year. We weighed all the options, and I decided to join the Navy. I thought there wouldn’t be much danger in that, I’d get to see some of the world, and I’d probably be stationed somewhere close enough that Susan could come and visit me or even go to school there.

It worked a little, but only for awhile. I suffered through boot camp in San Diego, got home for two week’s leave and then took a Greyhound up old Route 66 to Chicago for Gunner’s Mate training. Six months later, I got a couple weeks’ leave again, then I reported aboard an old World War II destroyer in Long Beach. Now 17 years old, Susan drove out to stay close to me during the summer, and we basked in each other’s love in a rented apartment every hour I was off duty. But in the fall, she had to go back to finish her senior year, and my ship was deployed to Japan.

I could write volumes about what being a gunner’s mate in an enclosed twin 5” gun mount was like. Suffice it to say that it was hot, dirty, noisy and dangerous. We were homeported in Yokosuka, Japan, but we spent most of our time at sea, escorting carriers, doing search-and-rescue duty, enforcing blockades, firing holes in Vietnam, etc. I was every bit as much in the war as the soldier I had avoided becoming, and I did a lot of aging in that four years.

I did get to visit some exotic places; besides Japan, where I visited Nagasaki and climbed Mt. Fuji, there was Taiwan, the Philippines, Hong Kong and Bangkok. I took hundreds of pictures and sent them home to my family. While my shipmates were all getting drunk and laid, I was staying faithful to my true love and storing up memories of distant exotic places.

Finally, the day came when the ship sailed back into an American port, at which point I was to be released from active duty, and Susan was there to greet me. She had been sending pictures of herself, but they didn’t do her justice. She was fit and blonde and tan as ever, and I held her close and cried my eyes out. I lugged my sea bag to her VW bug and she drove us to the motel where she was staying.

“Be easy, Sweetheart, it’s been three years,” she pleaded.

It was almost like our first time again. At 20, she was fully a woman now, all curves and boobs and rippling flesh, but powerful under the surface, like a lioness. Her plush figure was delicious to my fingers and tongue and cock, and I tasted every part of her with every part of myself. We spent the next 24 hours in a marathon of lust, only breaking from sex to nap fitfully, go to the bathroom, get water or order pizza. Finally realizing that we couldn’t make up for the previous four years in one day, we slept all afternoon and into the evening. We showered and dressed, and Susan took me to dinner. The next day, we collected our gear and she drove us home for an emotional reunion with our parents.

Susan had taken over the rest of our bedroom, but had moved my bed out to the pool house, which she had attempted to fix up as my living quarters. There was a set of shelves, a small desk and a lamp, courtesy of a long extension cord from the garage.

Now we had to make new plans. She was taking a Bachelor of Fine Arts course at our home college like we had originally intended. I now had a lot of experience with electronics and machinery, and I was interested in getting an engineering degree. At 22, I would be four years behind my contemporaries, but a lot of vets were coming back from the war and going to college, so I’d have company. The question was, how to maneuver things so Susan and I could be alone together? If I went to our local college, our folks would insist on keeping Susan home. If I took an apartment and she moved in with me, or even just started spending a lot of time with me, it would be pretty obvious that something was up.

“How are you liking your courses here?” I asked her.

“They’re good! I really like it.”

“Well, Hun, they have a decent engineering department. Why don’t I just go ahead and stay here? I can expand the pool house a little, maybe get some plumbing in there and more permanent power. It wouldn’t be like we originally wanted, but we’ve been making do like this our whole lives now. At least we’ll be together and not on opposite sides of the world.”

This was apparently the only reasonable solution. We went back to sneaking around behind our parent’s backs, and bringing sham dates home to show that we really were seeing other people. We shouldn’t have bothered.

One day, after dinner, our dad said, “You kids know, we’ve figured out what you’re doing. We suspected it years ago, but we get it. You’re in love.”

There was complete silence for a minute while Susan and I hurled into the abyss. We looked at Mom and Dad. They didn’t seem angry or sad, just loving.

I glanced at Susan, and she looked at me, then back at them.

“Yes,” she said, “We are.”

She reached over to me and took my hand.

“How long?” asked Mom.

“Hard to say,” I said, “it just sort of evolved. We’ve always been close. We had chances to see other people, and we didn’t find anything in them that we liked better than what we had between us. Eventually we just became… us.”

After a pause, Mom asked, “Are you having sex?”

“Um…”

“Yes. Of course,” Sue answered.

Another pause. I knew there were a thousand questions going through their minds, and they knew that we had asked them all ourselves and this was still our decision.

Dad spoke for them both. “Well, you’re big boys and girls now, and you have to live your own life. You know what problems you’re going to have, and that it’s not going to be easy for you. The least we can do is not be one of them. So whatever you decide for yourselves, you have our blessing and anything we can do to help.”

“Oh my god, Dad!” Susan fell into his arms in tears, and I hugged Mom, who was crying too.

“You are both such good kids,” she said. “You’ve never given us a minute’s trouble, and I know you’ll be responsible about this. We ourselves have been outsiders all our lives, living above this society’s rules and expectations, having to keep half of what we do secret. So we understand. We just want you to continue to be cautious and circumspect. You won’t be able to flaunt your relationship or be any kind of groundbreakers. We’ve seen what it does to people, and it will crush you.”

“I know, Mama, and we ARE going to be careful. We have been all this time, and we’re pretty good at it. We’re smarter than the average bear.”

“We know, Hun, and we want you to be happy, that’s all.”

“We are,” I said, taking Susan’s hand again. “Very happy.”

I’ve written two more chapters about our later life and adventures, but they don’t have much sex, and I don’t think they’d be very interesting to /elit/. The Cliffs Notes version is, we moved to another community after college and lived happily as a couple. Susan was in a serious car accident in the mid-1980’s in which she broke her back, after which she eventually recovered her ability to walk, but her health steadily declined and she passed away in 2009 at age 60. I wrote a poignant last chapter which made me cry as I wrote it, and I don’t want to be a downer, so I won’t post it. Suffice it to say I remember our good times the most, and I’m enjoying sharing them with /elit/. I hope /elit/ is enjoying them too.

Oh my God SRO, this is beautiful. If it is real, I’m... glad for you two. I’m glad you were wise and responsible. I really enjoyed the nosex parts too and would happily read more about the experiences of you and Susan during your decades of life and the times you lived in.

Honestly, I have no problems with sibling incest as long as the reproductive risks are handled (inbreeding is scary) and it’s between educated, consenting people.

If this is real, and please don’t take my skepticism as derision, it would make one hell of an avant-garde biography to publish. I’d say don’t let your story live here incomplete, or die with you.

I came for something erotic and found something encompassingly beautiful, and I want to hear more.

Also, if you are in fact a Vietnam vet, thank you for your service. T was an ugly, complicated, deceitful war that I wish we had played no part in as a nation.

>>25614

>Oh my God SRO, this is beautiful. If it is real, I’m... glad for you two. I’m glad you were wise and responsible. I really enjoyed the nosex parts too and would happily read more about the experiences of you and Susan during your decades of life and the times you lived in.

Thank you for your kind words, Eridian. It’s very gratifying to know others are enjoying hearing about our experiences.

>Honestly, I have no problems with sibling incest as long as the reproductive risks are handled (inbreeding is scary) and it’s between educated, consenting people.

New studies seem to show very little chance of genetic problems for first generation children of half siblings; however, the subject is still controversial and we were always satisfied with our decision to never reproduce ourselves. “Susan” had a healthy maternal instinct which she satisfied with constantly having a few pets, including dogs, cats, rabbits, birds, etc., as well as tutoring local children in the arts.

>If this is real, and please don’t take my skepticism as derision, it would make one hell of an avant-garde biography to publish. I’d say don’t let your story live here incomplete, or die with you.

I’m not at all put off by skepticism; this is the internet, after all, where anybody can be anybody else, and usually is. I’ve left out some details and obfuscated some others to preserve my anonymity in the real world, but otherwise it is the true account of some significant parts of our life.

I appreciate your compliments on my writing, which I’ve been doing for my own gratification all my life. I would consider your advice to expand it and publish it, if I could overcome a few qualms such as the research required to identify the best venue for what is here a basically porn-level erotic memoir, the fact that I’m still working up the courage to submit any of my non-porn work for publication, and the need to provide enough detail to validate its authenticity without revealing our identity. It would be distressful to many of our family and friends to learn the truth about me and my sister. Very few know about us; only those who we can trust to be non-judgmental and supportive, which aren’t many. The enjoyment and expression of appreciation by readers like yourself are all the reward I seek.

>I came for something erotic and found something encompassingly beautiful, and I want to hear more.

“Susan” and I had many adventures, sexual and otherwise, and I may write about more of them as time and the muse allow. What I have presented here are the most transitional episodes in our sexual and romantic relationship; most others were variations on the same themes, although all were wonderful to us, as anyone can imagine.

>>25615

>Also, if you are in fact a Vietnam vet, thank you for your service. T was an ugly, complicated, deceitful war that I wish we had played no part in as a nation.

Word. We conscripts were not that gung-ho about the war to begin with, and we became more cynical as the years went on. But we were grimly determined to do our best anyway and felt a sense of pride and honor in answering the call of duty, however wrong the cause in which we were to be sacrificed. Also in having mastered the difficult and dangerous art of maintaining and operating those archaic naval gun systems designed in the 1930’s.

My own thanks and respects to the many citizens who stood up and demanded an end to that travesty. I only wish that we as a country had learned our lessons from it better (Afghanistan, Iraq, etc.).

Thank you for having the courage to serve our country. And thank you for having the courage to share your personal story with us. You are a very fortunate man, both in terms of romance and sex, and I wish I could be as fortunate (and I don't mean my sister, just a love as deep as what you and Susan had/have).

>>25629

You’re welcome, Shadow, and thank YOU. I’m not sure how much courage was involved in my service; half the time I didn’t know enough to be frightened, and the other half I was too busy.

Yes, I was incredibly fortunate to have such an awesome, adventurous lover who happened to be my sister. We could have wished for more conventional circumstances, however. We had to constantly hide or falsify our relationship, sometimes presenting as siblings, sometimes as a married couple, and at gatherings of both family and friends, it could be pretty stressful. But overall, it was a great life with her, and I have been blessed beyond measure.

>>25593

Thankyou SRO for sharing the intimacy of your life with Susan with us. It was interesting, often arousing, but most of all moving.


I do believe that you underestimate much of the readership of /elit/... Oh I'm sure a lot of people come here purely for a quick (or sometimes not so quick) erotic 'fix', but evidenced by the numerous comments I've read over the years, many like me are looking for much more and you have provided that in your personal story.

So please, in your heart, share the entirety of your account. At the very least it would make it complete, but I believe it may be more satisfying for both yourself and your audience.

>>25642

Thank you for your encouraging words, friend. I can’t say enough how much I appreciate the positive feedback. And the more I read on /elit/, the more I realize that, yes, I have underestimated the readership here. My apologies.

I’ve decided to go ahead and post the next-to-last chapter, about our adult lives from college on, and then as many flashback episodes from our childhood and youth as I can remember, whenever the muse strikes. I still can’t bring myself to post the last chapter, and now I’m wishing I hadn’t even written it. I didn’t realize until then how vividly Susan still lives in my memory and heart, and how final our separation has become.

However, to her memory and the memories of good times…

Ten

Maturity


So there we were. Dad hired a builder who added two new bedrooms and another bath onto the back of the house. Susan and I got to specify the details, mostly about the bath. We got a huge shower stall and a big two-person tub. Both our bedrooms had French doors leading out into the back yard, and both of our rooms opened into the bathroom so we could get between our rooms either outside or inside. The sink vanity had two bowls and faucet sets, and a full room-width mirror behind it. This was pretty advanced stuff in the early 70’s, not being found in your basic tract homes yet.

Our old bedroom became Dad’s office, letting him finally move his books and papers out of their bedroom, since Mom had already commandeered that second bedroom early on. When the new addition was finished, Susie and I moved in, getting new furniture, curtains, lamps, etc. We knew we’d be spending most of our time together in one room or the other, but we kept our own stuff and made our own spaces separate.

I should mention here that we had no intention of bringing any children into the world ourselves. We thought we might adopt if we wished to later, but for now it wasn’t a consideration. I had a vasectomy done immediately after returning from the service, and that was that. Susan no longer had to take birth control pills and we never wound up using any condoms.

With our housing situation settled, my choice of education was now easy. The city had been growing over the years, and the college had become a full state university, with an excellent engineering program. I enrolled that fall, and started my general science courses.

Our love life just kept getting better. We showered together in our gymnasium-style two-head tiled shower, bathed together in our giant tub and slept together in either her or my queen-sized bed. If one of us had friends over and they needed to use the bathroom, we directed them to the one down the hall; ours would have told them too much about us.

We continued to be discreet around our folks and not exhibit more than familial affection with each other. We didn’t know exactly what their comfort level was with all this, and we didn’t want to push it. Because we all continued to practice nudism around the house and in the back yard, I had to put mind over matter and concentrate on not getting aroused around Susan. It’s not that difficult once you get the hang of it. For her part, she avoided posing in provocative positions or touching me in any way inappropriate for the occasion. In the meantime, if we were out by the pool with our folks, having drinks or a barbecue, and we really needed to purge some excess lust, my old bed was still in the pool house, and we could always duck in there to “change”.

Things went on like that until I graduated from college with a bachelor’s in mechanical engineering. I wanted to start working in the Heating, Ventilating and Air Conditioning (HVAC) field, which was starting to get very busy due to the oil shortage. A lot of major buildings were having to completely reinvent their systems to accommodate the new energy standards. After that, I hoped to get into alternative energy, like wind and solar.

Susan was working in illustration, doing commission work and trying to break into the animation field. She had a drawing board and a complete art studio in one corner of her room. When she wasn’t working on a project, she liked to do sketches of me and us. Anyway, she was able to do most of her work at home, mailing or delivering her product to the clients, and therefore her career was totally portable.

We had liked what we saw of San Diego, but the cost of living was prohibitive for freshly graduated young people. However, the north part of the inland county was very pretty and quite affordable. We located a nearly 100-year-old adobe farmhouse for rent in the middle of a defunct citrus grove, and took it immediately. It was wonderfully quiet, with only the sounds of birds and little animals in the weeds, and so private I don’t think anyone else knew it was there. We missed having a pool, but we decided we could buy a portable one eventually.

I started work in the urban area of San Diego, helping design new HVAC systems for the university lab buildings, the naval hospital, etc. The commute in those days led through a lot of very pretty farmlands and flower fields. Some of the field workers would set up roadside kiosks selling flowers, and I often brought a fresh bouquet home to my sister. She in turn gifted me with many original drawings of the two of us, some of an erotic nature. On the weekends, we wandered naked (except for shoes) through the grove and the adjacent hilly wilderness, never meeting another soul. It was the most perfect time in our life, and we enjoyed it to the max. The happy years sped by, our careers blossomed and matured agreeably, and we grew into the old place comfortably. When the owners decided to sell it, we had the income to buy it ourselves and prepared to spend the rest of our days there.

We traveled whenever we could, hiking, camping and visiting nudist resorts around the West. Most of them were pretty nice, but none as homey and fun as the old one where we had spent so many happy childhood days. Whenever we went back, we were greeted as old friends, and were once again transported to the Eden of our innocence.

Susan also loved the ocean, and we visited the beach whenever and wherever it wasn’t crowded, because we didn’t enjoy being jammed with people. We waded and splashed around in the waves, body surfing and generally carrying on like little kids. Then we’d walk for miles along the damp sand in the darkening evening, watching the moon rise above the city and listening to the crash and hiss of the salty waves.

…in which I relate some random events and experiences in our life–some sexual–as I recall them, in no particular order.


I want to emphasize how fortunate we were, from the very beginning and throughout our lives, to be able to be so relaxed and casual with each other, especially in regard to nudity and sex. We took it for granted in our childhood, but we were to learn over the years that most couples, including at least one other sibling relationship like ours, were not as compatible. I think we owed a lot of that to our parents, who as far as we knew never spoke a fractious word to each other or had a disagreement they couldn’t resolve amicably. They were very loving and kind to each other, and continued to exhibit unashamed intimacy around us kids all through the years. This inspired Susan and me to emulate them in every way.

So, from long before our discovery of sex, except as I said previously, during our “awkward years” between about 11 and 14, through the rest of our life, we were very comfortable with each other, enjoying naked hugs, skinny dipping and sleeping together when it wasn’t too hot.

Our parents abhorred TV, and we didn’t own one. Our house was like a library, with bookshelves lining every room. (Okay, maybe not the bathroom.) Fiction, classical literature, history, art, travel, encyclopedias, you name it. Susie and I learned to read early, and we read a lot. Our mom read a bedtime story to us every night when we were toddlers, and when I learned to read our simple children’s books, I took over reading them to my little sister. We liked a lot of the same books, and in later years we sometimes took turns reading out loud to each other, usually in bed.

We read pretty much everything by Dickens, O Henry, Saki, Heinlein, Verne, CS Lewis, Stevenson, Tolkien, Kipling, etc., etc. As we grew older, we read a lot of erotica. We managed to get our hands on a copy of “Lolita” soon after it came out, mostly just to see what all the fuss was about. We were a little disappointed, and felt it was pretty much a commercial potboiler, however well written. We did however continue to read more Nabokov, and came to be amazed that someone for whom English was not his first language had mastered it so well. We both agreed that his crowning achievement was “Ada”, a story of sibling incest and “the texture of time”, the experience of living in the fourth dimension.

Some of our other favorites were “The Delta of Venus” and “Little Birds” by Anais Nin, “Aphrodite” and “Songs of Bilitis” by Pierre Louÿs, and “Autobiography of a Flea”. We didn’t like anything by Henry Miller or De Sade – ick! We dutifully read the “Kama Sutra” and “The Perfumed Garden”, but found them pretty dry and tedious after awhile. Perhaps because by this point in our lives, we had already accomplished most of their teachings. Our parents knew and approved of all our reading material, sometimes checking them out of the local library for us when the staff wouldn’t let us have them, feeling (probably rightly) that we were too young.

Whatever we were reading at the time, either together or separately, we usually did it on our beds or on the same bed, naked. It wasn’t so much a sex thing as a togetherness thing; just enjoying each other’s presence. I’d be propped up against my headboard, and Susie would be leaning against the wall by my bed at right angles to me, her legs draped over my hips, both of us reading. Sometimes I’d be lying prone and she’d lie on my back, resting her book on my shoulder blades. Or she’d make me spread my legs so she could lie on her back between them and use my butt for a pillow.

We were both interested in art, and we practiced sketching and painting. We did a lot of still lifes and landscapes, but we also used each other for figure studies. I confess I was not a good model, preferring to keep reading rather than hold a difficult pose for a long time. I loved to sketch Susan, but was never as good at it as she was. We also gravitated to handcrafts, she to weaving, crocheting and beadwork, me to woodcarving and model making, mostly of ships and cars.

From earliest memory, we were playful with each other. She’d be lying on her tummy, reading or doing a craft project of some kind, and I’d come up behind her and blow a “motorboat” on her naked tush, eliciting a squeal of mirth. Sometimes when she tried that on me, I’d tease her by tightening my glutes so she couldn’t, and she’d smack me or bite my butt cheek. I loved to nibble on her baby flesh, always softly, and one time I started to give her a hickey on her backside.

She quickly reached behind her and popped me on top of the head and warned “NoNoNo, Barry, Mom and Dad might see!”

“Oh right!” I agreed, and was careful afterward to not do anything that might leave a mark like that.


We were taught to be cautious, but not fearful. The area of the country where we lived was subject to occasional spectacular thunderstorms, and from the earliest I can remember, our mom would take us out to the front porch and sit us on her lap to experience the greatest light show in nature. With her example and encouragement, we kids clapped and cheered like soccer hooligans after each blinding flash and crash of thunder. When we were a little older, she’d put our slickers on us and let us run around in the driving rain. I remember looking up and seeing the entire sky turn into a immense network of lightning bolts, crackling and flashing with a deafening roar. It was possible, I suppose, to have been struck by one, but we felt no fear, just overwhelming exhilaration.

It was experiences like this, and our parent’s unconventional lifestyle, that emboldened my sister and me to pursue our relationship beyond what society felt was appropriate. From our earliest age, we were aware of the differences between our public and private life, and we kept a careful separation between them. But we had no qualms about continuing our growing sexual relationship.


Our folks loved the outdoors, and we went camping and hiking often. At first we all shared a large tent, but after practicing with our own smaller one in the back yard a few times, Susan and I had it to ourselves on camping trips. It made sense; we were already occupying the same room at home, and we were starting to be big enough to crowd our parents’ tent. We didn’t like air mattresses, so we gathered armloads of oak leaves and pine needles from the forest floor and spread them under the tarp, then set up the tent on top of the soft mound they made. After we went to bed at night, Susie and I quietly unzipped our sleeping bags and joined them into a big double bag. Then we slipped out of our night clothes and hugged and spooned each other’s small naked bodies until the owls and crickets lullabied us to sleep.

I well remember one particular night in our early years, Susie woke me saying she had to pee. It was probably two or three in the morning. I dutifully got up and we put on some clothes because we were in a public campground and the restroom was some distance away. I led her by the hand along the dark path.

Then, at a bend in the path, I said, “Let’s just go here.”

I didn’t want to go all the way to the smelly and blindingly lit restroom. With forethought born of experience with public lavatory supplies, Susie had brought a wad of toilet paper with her. We stepped out of sight of the campground and each took our position as determined by nature, peeing right next to each other without hesitation or embarrassment. I scuffed a small hole with my heel, and Susie dropped the paper in it, then we kicked a little dirt over it, confident that a year from now it would be decomposed to nothing.

I happened to glance straight up through the trees, and what I saw made me want to see more. I took my sister’s hand, and we followed the path away from the campground, out to a large meadow. There we looked up and beheld the clearest moonless night sky we’ve ever experienced before or since. It was stunning, almost frightening. The entire dome of the universe was displayed to us, a vast mottled sheet of white unlike anything we had ever seen in pictures, or were ever able to see in the city. Susan clutched my hand tightly, then pulled me close as we stared above and around us in awe. We were both moved—shaken—to the core.

In all the years we wandered in mountains and deserts after that, of all the night skies we witnessed since, we never experienced a moment like that again. Perhaps the air hasn’t been as free of atmospheric or light pollution, or our eyes simply didn’t see as clearly any more, but for whatever reason, during that brief interlude, we knew we had shared a once-in-a-lifetime soul-stirring, spiritual encounter with the cosmos, and we never forgot it.


Once we discovered sex, or at least mutual genital stimulation, we pursued it eagerly and often, until it became a familiar recreation like many others, and we treated it as naturally and casually as our previous nudity and bodily contact had been. We often lay side by side, sometimes head to toe, reading or drawing while idly, almost unconsciously, playing with each other’s privates. This rarely rose to the level of full sexual activity or orgasm, but was the beginning of our lifelong enjoyment of giving each other a pleasant “buzz” of horniness that could last for hours or all day.

However, one day we were taking turns reading a book out loud to each other, and Susan was reading while I lay next to her. To pass the time while I listened, I started playing with her baby parts. She paused and glanced up at me.

“I’m listening,” I said.

She continued reading, and I continued playing. I ran my fingers up and down her flanges, just feathering them lightly. She shivered a little but pressed on. Then I started gently rubbing her clit, and she squirmed, still reading. I noticed her toes curl up a little, but she didn’t pause or stumble once. So now it became a challenge. I kept playing, retreating and advancing on her button, and she read page after page, well past where it should have been my turn. Finally, after a concentrated attack, she put the book down, threw her head back and closed her eyes while I brought her to a blissful orgasm.

As soon as she recovered, she handed me the book with the devil in her eye and said “Your turn, smart guy!”

I did my best, but I only got about two pages in before her efforts made me cringe and spasm helplessly. After that, we usually agreed to just let each other “coast”, but sometimes we had the energy to play “who can read the longest before cumming?”. Which she usually won.

One hot day, we were lying on our backs in opposite directions on my bed, each of us absorbed in a book, when I realized that we had interleaved our legs and my foot was resting snugly against Susan’s bare crotch. Being a gentleman, I instinctively raised my knee, but without glancing up from her book, she took hold of my ankle and pulled my foot back into position against her pubic area. So, given permission, I rested it there while I continued reading. After awhile, she repositioned herself, scooting down toward me a little more, increasing the pressure on her mound. I kept my leg straight and started slowly wiggling my foot and toes. I felt her twitch a little, but I couldn’t see her face behind her book.

Finally, she lowered her book and grinned, “I’ve read this same paragraph three times, and I still don’t know what it says.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, in a tone that didn’t sound like I really was, and I ceased my movement.

“Ooooh, I didn’t say to stop!”

She grabbed my foot and humped her bony pelvis against it. I pressed firmly and resumed rolling the front of my sole over her clit area. She lay back and closed her eyes until she tensed into a strong, grinding orgasm.

As soon as she recovered, she returned the favor, rubbing her foot back and forth over my boyhood dick until it was very firm, but it couldn’t bring me to orgasm. After several minutes of this, I felt the need to get off, so she bent to the task and began rubbing her fingers across the head in our familiar way, and soon I was seized with a really great climax.

After that, we often used our bare or stockinged feet on each other. I had longer legs than her, so when lying in that position, I kept my knee bent while she teased my dick, catching it between her toes and rubbing it up and down with her forefoot. Sometimes when we were sitting across from each other at the table, we’d kick off one sandal and press into each other’s crotch. We continued to play this game for most of our life, sometimes in an intimate little restaurant with small, cloth-covered tables that hid our shenanigans, smiling knowingly at each other over the candles and Chianti.

In our later teens, we explored all our erogenous zones, and we found that Susan’s back was especially sensitive. I loved to relax her with a long, firm massage, then start kissing her neck and shoulders very lightly, working my way slowly down her spine and laterals, making her moan and tremble with pleasure. This always made her very wet, and frantic to cum. My favorite technique in this position was to lie on my belly between her legs, grip her thighs from below, raise her pelvis to my face and feast on the warm juice pouring out of her. Then when she was totally beside herself with anticipation, I’d reach my tongue down to her clit and rub it very lightly until her entire body spasmed.

One hot September afternoon, we got home all sweaty from school and took a cool shower together. Then, with a couple of hours before our parents came home, we lay under the fan in our bedroom and started to fool around. I started kissing her back as we had been doing, and then when I got down between her legs, instead of slurping her pussy as before, I put my face between her butt cheeks and kissed her little brown pucker.

“OOOOOHHHH!” she moaned, and so I kept it up. I brushed my lips over it a few times, making her squirm, then opened my mouth and sucked very gently. She really reacted to that! Getting into it, I licked all around her brown spot, then lightly French kissed it, putting my whole mouth to work. I gripped her thighs to hold her still while I did this, because she was starting to buck like a bronco. Fresh out of the shower, it had no taste at all. But I couldn’t stop there, I started to poke the tip of my tongue into her hole. She moaned louder, and I threatened to stop if she alerted the neighbors. I pushed in more, while holding her butt cheeks apart with my thumbs, my lips firmly planted around her tight little opening.

“OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD!!!” she repeated.

I kept going, until my face was planted fully between her cheeks, my tongue was all the way up inside her and I couldn’t breathe any more. She was out of her mind with ecstasy. I lifted my face a little to take a breath through my nose, then charged back in. I started to roll my tongue around inside her in lazy circles, tugging her soft inner flesh with it. I was surprised that even here I sensed no taste or smell. I ran my hands over her back lightly, and she raised herself up a little, inviting me to reach under her and grope her boobs, which I did. I cupped each one and felt the hard little nipples against my palms.

She settled back down to the bed, trapping my hands under her, and I kept working her butthole with my tongue. I opened and closed my lips over the area, like I usually did on her front parts, and sucked on it while I dove my tongue in and out of her. I also gently squeezed and kneaded her boobs while I did this. To both our surprise, she suddenly came with the force of a thousand suns. Of course I felt it strongly on my tongue, but I was amazed to also feel her orgasm pulsing in her nipples against my hands. I hadn’t known they could do that.

Nor had either of us known that I could make her cum by tonguing her back hole. We experimented with it many times after that, and sometimes she came that way, but usually she wanted more. One of her favorite things after I had tongued her was for me to sit in front of her, get my dick nice and slippery with her juice and then have her sit on it with her back to me. Then we’d both lie back with her on top of me, my pole stuck firmly up inside her pooper, and she’d turn and kiss me over her shoulder while I slowly brought her to a boil with my finger. It never failed to get me well started on my own orgasm to feel her anal ring clenching on my stick when she came. After that, we’d usually roll over together face down, and I’d finish with a few good strokes in her butt.

My adventurous sister introduced us to yet another awesome activity on the Valentine’s weekend after her 16th birthday. Our (dear, trusting) parents left town for a romantic holiday of their own, leaving us to our own devices. Which we took full advantage of. Saturday night, Susan kicked me out of the bedroom while she made secret preparations. I bided my time until she indicated I could come in. I was truly impressed.

Candles surrounded the darkened room, a single incense stick burning in a glass, and very faint Eastern music playing on our portable reel-to-reel. But what really had my attention was that the bed was covered with a black plastic sheet.

“Whoa!” I faltered, “Are we doing a voodoo sacrifice or something?”

“Be still, vassal,” she commanded, grinning, “lie on the altar like a good offering to the gods of love.”

We were both undressed already. I lay on the bed, the plastic crinkling under me, a bit uncomfortable on my skin. Susan went to the side of the room where a pot was sitting on a hot plate, set to “warm”. She dipped her fingers in the pot, testing the temperature, and deciding it was right, she scooped a cupful out and brought it over to the bed.

“What’s this?” I asked curiously.

“Shhhh…,” she shushed, “turn over.”

I obediently rolled onto my stomach and rested my head on my forearms. She pulled my arms out and down to my sides, and placed a small towel under my head. Then I felt something warm and wet on my back. She started to rub the substance into my skin, and then to firmly work my shoulders and torso. I quickly realized it was cooking oil, and she was giving me a nice hot oil massage.

“Mmmmm…” I purred, relaxing in every joint and sinew. “So, ‘sautee to a golden brown?’”

“Shhh…”

She covered my neck, arms, back and butt, then worked on down to my toes. She sat on my butt and beat lightly all over my back with the sides of her hands, then scooted down my legs and did the same on my butt and the backs of my thighs. Then, as I was feeling loose as a goose, she had me roll over on my back and started in on my chest. Each time she moved to a new area of my body, she poured a lot of oil on me, more than necessary, I thought. However, it felt wonderful, especially with her sitting on my thighs and diligently rubbing it into my flesh. I grinned up at her, and she blushed a little endearingly while she worked, but also with a slightly mischievous glint in her eye. I had a feeling this wasn’t just a massage.

Then she dipped a fresh cupful of oil and handed it to me.

“Your turn,” she said.

I traded places with her and copied what she had done for me.

“Use lots,” she insisted as I dripped the oil onto her back.

“Um, okay,” I responded, and drizzled it down her spine. I knew it was feeling good, the warm liquid and the sensual kneading and rubbing. The excess oil ran down her sides and started to pool under her on the plastic sheet. I continued to work my way down her back and legs, did her feet as usual, and then let her turn over and started on her front. She closed her eyes and reveled in my oily ministrations. As usual, I was getting extremely turned on by this time. There was something particularly erotic about the slippery feel of our lubricated bodies against each other.

Finally, Susan told me to lie down again, and she brought the pot over to the bed. I was beginning to catch on. I grimaced a little as the oil was poured over me, a little uncomfortably hot, but it soon cooled. She spread it all over my body, splashing it around and giving my iron hard rod an extra slickery squeeze, and then lay down next to me. I took the pot and poured it on her as well, until both of us were shiny with it from neck to toes. I put the now empty pot down on the floor next to the bed and took my beautiful naked, glistening sister in my arms.

There was no other feeling in the world as wonderful as we experienced in that moment. We slipped and slid against each other, back and forth on the oily plastic, wriggling and writhing like playful seals. We kissed deeply while running our hands all over each other’s bodies, experiencing the frictionless rippling of flesh and muscles. Susan lay on top of me, her arms around my neck, devouring my tongue, while I held her close with one arm and explored her butt cleft with my other hand. She reached under herself and gave my dick a few strokes, and then gently caressed my balls. I started to reach for her crotch, but she stopped me.

“I swear, if you touch me there, I’ll cum instantly!” she warned with a giggle.

We contented ourselves with more slip-and-slide, rolling over together, pressing ourselves front-to-front and front-to-back on each other’s bodies. I lay on her back with my dick pressed tightly into her butt crack and gave a few thrusts, then stopped because it was bringing me too close to the edge. She lay on my back and rubbed her firm boobs against my shoulder blades. The oil was starting to get into her hair, matting it against her neck and back, and she stopped momentarily to knot it up into a bun.

Rolling, thrashing, squeezing, slipping and sliding, we kissed and groped and hugged each other tightly. We edged each other until we were past the point where we would be likely to cum spontaneously, and started to explore all the possibilities of this incredible innovation. I sucked her boobs and she sucked my dick while fondling my balls, and I was finally able to lightly suck her pussy lips without danger of ending the fun prematurely. Then I knelt behind her and slowly, ever so slowly, pushed myself into her back hole. She didn’t dare let me touch her clit, but just disconnected herself mentally from what we were doing in order to keep from cumming. I pushed in and pulled out of her at a glacial pace to prolong my own experience.

Finally, she yelled, “AAAAGHHH! I CAN’T STAND IT ANY MORE! FUCK ME, BEAR!”

I immediately pulled out of her butt and literally jammed it into her channel. (They say not to do that because it can cause an infection, and we do believe them, but we’d done it several times already with no bad effect.) Between the oil and her abundant natural lube, there was hardly any sense of friction or pressure. She came within three strokes. I knew she had another one in her, so I thought about everything I could except what we were doing, and I brought her off again.

Then, before I could cum myself, she rolled out from under me and pushed me onto my back. She knelt over my head and leaned forward until her beautiful tits just brushed my belly and she started to swallow my aching bone. I reached up and gripped her butt cheeks, pulling her slick fleshy lobes down onto my mouth and started to smooch and suck them earnestly. She groaned loudly around my cock, and started to tremble a little. I reached down and squished her slippery boobs in my hands, and she shook harder. Then I reached up with one hand and poked my oily middle finger into her butthole. That did it. She bit down kind of hard on my dick, and I felt her anal ring announce a third strong orgasm.

“Would you… stop… making me cum?” she panted, “I’m trying… to get you… off here!”

I laughed. “Okay, Sue-Bear, I’ll be good.”

Easier said than done. I loved the feel of her soft lips in my mouth, the nub of her clit on my tongue. And it was right there in front of my face while she went full throat on my shaft and fondled my balls with her slippery hand. I couldn’t stand it, so I pulled her down again and just enveloped her whole mound in my wide open lips, sucking in as much as I could. I stretched her inner labia all the way to the back of my mouth, almost into my throat.

Then, when my tongue automatically reached for her clit, she pulled her head back and said, “Don’t Barry, that hurts now.”

“Sorry Hon,” I apologized. I knew how my dick felt if I tried to keep going right after I came, so I guess it can be the same for women.

My restraint was rewarded with one of the all-time biggest loads I’ve ever shot straight into my sister’s stomach. Her lips were pressed solidly against my pubic bone and I felt just the tips of her teeth on the very lowest base of my dick, below the fatty part of my pubic area. She held that position and swallowed repeatedly until she had milked every last drop out of my body.

The cleanup was quite a project. To start with, we didn’t want to leave oil on the carpet from the bedroom to the bathroom, so we wiped our feet as much as we could on towels and then threw more towels down ahead of us as we made our way. Fortunately Susan had anticipated the problem that far. We decided next time to just lay down plastic all the way around the bed and into the bathroom. We scrubbed ourselves and each other over and over for what seemed like an hour. Even after we dried off, we felt a little sticky. It was days before we got it all off and out of Susan’s hair.

We made “oil night” a feature for special occasions many times after that. We experimented with different kinds of oil, but the results were about the same. I think we found almond oil best, but hella expensive and hard to find in the quantities we used. Commercial massage oil was mostly glycerin and not very satisfactory, and baby oil was right out, ick bleagh ptui! Whatever the efforts we had to expend to prepare and clean up after, it was something we always looked forward to.

College educations at state universities were a lot better funded by the taxpayers in those days than they are now, but they still weren’t free, and our folks weren’t rich. I took a lot of part-time jobs to help with the expenses. One was as the night janitor in a three-story medical office building. It wasn’t glamorous but it paid well enough, and in my four years in the Navy I’d done a lot harder and more humble things.

Anyway, Susan objected to my not being able to be home for two hours, five nights a week, so she started accompanying me to help get the job done faster. I did appreciate it, because I also needed to study long hours, and I enjoyed her company, whatever we were doing. She did the vacuuming while I cleaned toilets and ash trays and dumped the trash. (Hard to realize they allowed smoking in doctor’s office waiting rooms in those days.)

The second floor of the building was an OB-GYN office. We were doing our regular routine one night, and I was cleaning one of the examining rooms when an idea crossed my horny young mind. I called Susan from the other room, and I told her to get up on the table.

“HAHA, you pervert!”, she laughed, but without hesitation she shucked her pants and hopped up, placing her feet in the stirrups. I found the controls and lowered the table to just the right height, and gave her a very thorough exam with my lips and tongue. After she gasped out an excruciating orgasm, I dropped my own pants and gave her a good hard fucking in the standing position. She was able to cum again before I blasted mine into her womb.

She allowed that this was awesome and we needed to get our own table like this some day, but once the novelty had worn off, I felt it was kind of too clinical and we didn’t even do it again in that medical office. It was a good thing that they didn’t have 24-hour security cameras everywhere in those days.

And yes, we did change the paper on the table before we left.

This is really good, old man. We're waiting for a continuation.

Bump.

Someone who I’m guessing was op was asking for the bump to preserve the story. If you want to be absolutely sure about it, you could move this over to a site like Archive of Our Own (Ao3)

>>27380

Thank you friend, I've never been comfortable with bumping my own work. I figure if it's worthy, someone else will do it. And thank you for the advice about Ao3, I will consider it

>>25675
bumping for an unexpectedly beautiful read. Thank you.