This is my first attempt at a non-brother/sister incest story, so honest opinon would be appreciated.
Many thanks to Mricemen1964 and Firefly Girl for their sense of reality and willingness to assist me in making this story happen, and for not being afraid to tell me when they thought I was full of it. Thanks, Guys, love you both...
If you liked it, please rate it, if not, let me know why, I promise I will always listen, even if I don't always agree!
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So here I am, hammering my cock into my kid sister, and my aunt loves every second of it. I kiss my sister hungrily as I pound into her, and my aunt kisses me back just as needily. Confused? I was, so let me clue you in, by beginning at the beginning.
I grew up in Bristol in the 1980's, in Clifton, the elegant Regency-period town-within-the-town at the top of the Avon Gorge, in the west of England. I had only one sibling, a sister, Marlene, Lena for short, who was just under a year younger than me. We lived in a huge, echoing, icy-cold Georgian house near Clifton College and the famous Clifton suspension bridge, attended the local Catholic primary school, and maintained the usual older brother/annoying little sister relationship that one would expect from our normal background and family life.
Dad worked at Rolls-Royce, in the engine division at Filton, precision machining blades for jet turbines. Mum was a Head Nurse in the Renal Unit at the Bristol Royal Infirmary in the centre of Bristol, not too far from where we lived. When I left Primary School and moved into Secondary School, Lena was devastated. Every day of her entire school life, I'd taken her to school, sat with her in the dining hall for lunch, and then brought her home with me in the afternoon, and now she'd have to do that journey and spend the day alone, for a whole year. She was not happy, and the thing about Lena is, when she's not happy, she gets democratic and makes sure everybody gets some, so there was a lot of ill-feeling and tantrums. The only bright spot (for her) was that my new school, over in Long Ashton, gave out 45 minutes before her school, so I had time to get home and go and collect her, and this became my routine.
I honestly never minded; Lena was a pretty little girl, tall for her age, with long, straight, bright chestnut hair cut in bangs, and piercing blue eyes, just like mum (and nothing like me, which should have given me pause for thought; I had dusty blonde hair, and green eyes; dad had light brown hair and blue eyes too, so I should have wondered where my green eyes came from; but I never did), and she would tell me of her day, hold my hand when we crossed the road, and basically enjoy as much of my time as I was able to give her.
It turned out to be quite a lot; dad's workplace was way across the other side of town, and mum worked unpredictable and irregular shifts, so Lena and I would be home first most of the time, so we'd do whatever homework we had, and usually be finished by the time dad came in, around 6pm or so. Dad would start dinner, and collapse exhausted in a recliner while Lena and I would potter around, talk, watch TV while keeping an eye on whatever was cooking, and generally kill time until mum came home. Not an exciting life, but a normal one.
When Lena hit 11, she moved up into secondary school, and she of course elected to attend my school, no surprises there. As I was now one year ahead of her, (Year Seven) I was becoming allergic to her presence; I was starting to hit that age when girls become...interesting, and the last thing I needed when I was trying to look all windswept and interestingly cool to Year Seven girls was to have my Year Six sister hanging around me all the time. As I got older, it got worse, and I started telling her to leave me alone, to get lost, and I took to avoiding her as my embarrassment at having her hanging around me grew. Now, when I look back on how I was with her, I hate myself; she was my little sister, and for years I'd been the centre of her world, and now here I was, pushing her away, and not being too polite about it either.
I didn't pick up on this, of course; all I knew was that I'd come home from school, alone, having ducked her somewhere, then hear her slam in and run up to her room and start crying, but it never occurred to me that it was me making her cry. And it never occurred to me to go and comfort her; that wasn't my job anymore, I was a grown-up now. Yes, I know, don't judge, you were a young teen boy yourself once.
I never noticed she was growing, either, I never noticed anything about her these days, self-absorbed little tick that I was, and Lena was becoming more and more attractive as she got older. When I was 16, one of my classmates told me he was going to ask Lena out. I was a little puzzled as to why he'd want to ask out a Year 10, when he was a Year 11, and he looked at me like I was stupid.
"Because Lena's a real looker, that's why! Any objections if I ask her out?"
I said something along the lines of "why are you telling me, I don't care, just keep your hands to yourself!" and off he went to ask her out to the cinema that night. A couple of hours later, our paths crossed and I remembered that he was going to ask my sister out.
"So what did she say?" I asked him, more out of something to say than any real interest.
"She asked me what you said, so I told her you said you didn't care, and she got mad at me, and started crying and stormed off like I just spat on her or something. Your sister's a fruit loop, did you know that?" he said nastily, so I dragged him around a corner and smacked him around a little, just to remind him to watch what he said about my sister, but it was automatic outrage, done because it was expected of me, not because I felt he was impugning my sister – I truly thought I didn't care what he said about her.
When I got home that afternoon, delayed because of cricket practice, Lena was already home, locked away in her room, so I left her to it, and got down to my homework. I heard mum come in, then dad, and soon I started smelling dinner being prepared. I was miles away in my history homework when a knock on my door brought me back to the present day.
"Come in!" I called and when no-one did I walked over and opened the door. Lena was standing there, her face tear stained and her eyes red, so I asked her what the problem was.
"Darryl, why do you hate me?" she asked me flatly, catching me off-balance, so I blustered a reply.
"Don't be so daft, I don't hate you, what a stupid question!"
She looked ready to cry again. "You do hate me, you won't talk to me, you avoid me, you're rude to me all the time, you're always angry with me. Why are you so angry with me, Darryl? I never did anything to you, yet you won't even let me talk to you! What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?"
Nothing at all. She'd done absolutely nothing.
I had no answer, other than the right one, which was I'd gotten so used to ignoring her in my quest to look cool, I didn't know how else to treat her anymore. She only ever tried to be nice to me, and I treated her like she didn't exist, or I took everything out on her, when it wasn't her fault at all. Realising that only made me angry with myself, and she was standing there, the perfect target.
"Look, you half-wit, I don't hate you, but I really have no time for you or your pathetic whining, I don't care what you think, and I don't care what you do, or who you do it with, just as long as you do it somewhere else, and leave me alone! Now piss off and stop annoying me; get some friends, get a life, and stay out of mine!"
