Morning Wood

"

This a story about obsession.

With over a year in the making, and true to its subject, almost everything is different from what it was in the beginning.

Much like the characters, we obsessed over the details, from blueprints of rooms, to exactly how long a Futurama rerun lasts, to a two day long discussion over the appropriate use of shoes vs sneakers. Our obsession was so great that at times we lost sight of the big picture, bogging down on the details.

Scenes were replaced, names were changed, characters were deleted, focuses were shifted.

The somewhat polished result is what follows and I'm proud to say that although everything is different, the big picture stays the same.

To the reader, in defiance of obsession, instead of focusing on what could have been take it for what it is, a story about a person's obsession for another and the aftermath of their actions.

-H.M"

Chapter 01: Morning Ritual

Art woke as he did most days, too early and with an erection that wouldn't quit. His routine continued as he slid from bed and headed out of his room. Reaching down, he gave his morning buddy a few tugs; rubbing at the head with his palm as he walked down the stairs and into his kitchen.

Moving to the window over his sink, he glanced out at his neighbor who was playing out her own morning routine. Art's window looked down into the first floor bathroom of her town house. Though the window was frosted , it opened at the top with an angle that allowed him to see right into the shower.

Just like most weekday mornings Sylvia was getting ready for school. He leaned closer, his hand beginning to slide slowly up and down the length of his cock, watching as she lathered her nubile flesh.

Art spun around as somebody cleared their throat behind him, hand still resting on his engorged cock. The sound had come from his younger sister. He had forgotten that she had shown up drunk around two that morning and he had let her sleep it off in his spare room.

"Guinne," his voice cracked slightly as he spoke, something it had not done in a very long time. He grabbed a towel from the oven rack and covered himself in a vain attempt at decency. "I forgot you were here. I'm sorry, I'll get out of here," his cheeks darkened to a deep red, reminiscent of the inside of a watermelon.

Guinne laughed at him, a rich and pleasant sound. Her thick lips formed a luscious smile as she looked at her brother. One hand on each hip was causing the baby-doll t-shirt she wore to hike up a little and reveal a pale stomach. The soft peach fuzz on her stomach caught Art's eye for only a moment before the small purple gem in her belly button ring glinted.

"Oh my, Art. Do you always wander around in the morning jerking off," She went onto her tip toes to peer over his shoulder and out the window, but couldn't see past him. "Or do you save that for when your baby sis is over to spot you?" She slid forward, leaning against him to look out the window at Sylvia .

"You dirty, dirty old man," She was grinning as she spoke, thinking about how she sometimes played soccer with Sylvia when she visited her brother. "Spying?" Little did she know that her brother spent almost every morning jerking off to the beautiful young neighbor girl.

Art barely heard her. He couldn't move, it was like time had frozen him in disbelief. Guinne's knee was pressed against his inner thigh, her grey panties rubbed his bare hip. The pressure of her handful-sized tits against the side of his chest caused his dick to throb with her proximity and the heady scent of her body.

He had fantasized about his younger sister when they were both still living with their mother, but that had been long ago. Art had watched her blossom into a young woman, growing from a boyish child into a delectable young lady.

Guinne was that special kind of voluptuous and sexy woman that caught many eyes. She had wide hips and a rounded peach of a backside which curved into a waist that dipped just right. He had always had a thing for girls with a little extra padding but it wasn't until now - with his sister leaning against him - that he had considered the source of that attraction.

"Earth to Arthur," Guinne had stepped back, no longer pressing so pleasantly to his naked body. "Anyone home in there?" She waved her hand before his eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled, casting a pleading look at his sister. "Uhm, can we just pretend this never happened?" She was blocking his path to the kitchen door - to safety - and his mind was trying desperately to figure out how to get past her.

"Pretend you don't spy on your neighbor in the shower and wank?" Guinne raised an eyebrow at him, trying to look serious, but with the faint signs of a smirk showing on the edges of her lips. "Or pretend that I'm not making your cock even harder?"

"What? Guinne, can you at least move so I can get something more than a kitchen towel to cover up with?" He spoke with a mixture of anger, sarcasm and shame, "This is a bit embarrassing, you know."

Unbudging, she grabbed the towel from his hands revealing his still very hard cock. "You mean this?" She smirked, holding it up. Art reached for the towel but she flicked her wrist back and it landed on the chair behind her. His hands dropped in an attempt to cover his once again growing erection.

"What the hell, Guinne?" He moved to push past her, though deep inside he hoped she wouldn't let him, hoped she would continue on this path and act out some dirty fantasy of his.

Guinne reached out, pushing him back up against the counter, her body weighing against his. She could feel his naked cock against the flesh of her stomach, jerking with arousal at his sister's aggressive move.

"What do you think you're doing? Let me go," he tried to sound firm, as if he genuinely wanted her to move but there was doubt in his voice, hesitation.

Guinne saw her desire mirrored in her brother's almond-colored eyes. Ever since she had discovered her brother's morning routine she had wanted him and had fantasized about how to get herself involved.

--

Long before she knew of the taboos that surrounded incest, Guinne had started watching Art. As her first exposure to sex he had become the focus of her drive. Although she had dated men in high school and college and experimented with her sexuality, every morning she still thought of her brother's hard dick being stroked in his hand and had always fantasized about him when she was with other partners.

Here stood the focus of all her fantasies, the throbbing member that had filled her mind each time she had played with herself, the face that had filled her vision even when another man had slid himself into her.

"What the hell do I think I'm doing?" Guinne responded, a coy grin sliding across her lips. "I'm rubbing up against your beautiful cock, Art. I'm pressing it against my stomach and letting you feel my soft skin. I'm trying to have my way with you." Her voice was growing husky as she spoke, and she could feel the warmth between her own legs increasing in its intensity.

Art swallowed thickly at her words. What the hell had gotten into his little sister? "You can't do that, Guinne, you're my sister," the words forced out, knowing that it was the truth, that she had to stop. He wanted her to keep going though, to do more than just press her stomach to him.

"It shouldn't matter," her hand slid between them, grasping his erection lightly in her hand, just holding onto it, feeling its warmth, feeling the cock she wanted so bad. It was hot to the touch, thick and firm in her hand; not porn star long, but more than enough to enjoy. It felt amazing in her grasp; better than she had ever imagined it would feel. It made the wetness between her legs almost unbearable, her panties becoming soaked, causing her juices to drip down her thigh.

"I want you, Art, I've always wanted you. I want this thick hard cock in my hands. I want to wrap my lips around it, I want to feel it deep inside of me, I just want it."

Art hadn't pulled away, he could have, she wasn't holding onto him that tightly. She blocked his path out of the kitchen, but he could have moved to the side to get away from her, or just pushed his way past her. Guinne knew he wasn't going to run, knew that he wanted this too, and so, slowly, her fingers began to slide along his length, rubbing his precum into his erection. Her eyes peered over his shoulder, spotting Sylvia getting out of the shower now, her perky little tits wet.

"Guinne," Art whimpered; his tone half protest, half plea. "We can't do this," but he was still there, not pulling away, not pushing her aside. Her hand began to move a little more firmly along his length, stroking along it, turning and rubbing the head into her palm. Fingernails scraped along the sides. She had watched him please himself for years; she knew just how he liked it. His eyes were half lidded, perhaps surrendering to her, perhaps to himself. Her fingers continued to stroke his length, her other hand dropping down to gently cup his balls; a finger sliding down to rub at that spot beneath them that she knew he liked to touch.

She wanted more, she wanted to feel him in her, but she sensed that it was not yet time to press her brother any farther than this hand job. So with an expertise gained from years of observation, and some practice as well, she brought him to orgasm. He moaned out as she jerked him a few last times, his back arching as his juices spurted out, long strings of cum sprayed her stomach and hand. She moaned softly at the feel of it splattering onto her bare stomach; the warm liquid nearly driving her into ecstasy as well.

His body shuddered faintly as she continued to gently stroke his cock, feeling it slowly deflate. Then she released it and lifted her hand, bringing it to her lips, finally able to taste her brother's seed. She closed her eyes as she licked the juices from her fingers. She had discovered in her adventures that she loved the taste of cum, and perhaps it was the long wait, or just something about his flavor, but she swore it was the best she had ever had the pleasure to eat. She greedily licked every drop from her fingers, and then turned her eyes south looking for more. Her fingers moved over his cock, scooping up what she had spread there and then gathered the strands that had fallen on her shirt and boy cut panties.

Art watched her, his eyes still half closed, as she committed this lurid act. He had never seen an actual woman eat cum like that and it almost stirred him again, but he forced the thought away. His mind protested what had happened as bad and wrong, but also embraced it as good and oh-so-amazing. He looked down at his now limp cock and then up into Guinne's eyes; she was licking the last traces of his juices from her fingers still. It was unreal, women in porn pretended to like cum, but his sister so obviously did. Most of the women who had given him blow jobs had either acted like it was gross and spit it out, or just swallowed like they were 'supposed to'.

Realization of what had just happened seemed to finally sink into his head and he pushed past his sister, moving rapidly away from her to the stairs, dashing up them. He threw open the bathroom door and slammed it behind him, not thinking to lock it as he turned the shower on. He turned it up until the whole bathroom began to fill with steam, throwing a glance at the fogging mirror, who was this man before him? This man that had let this happen? Art climbed under the spray.

It hurt, turning his skin pink with the heat, but he barely noticed. He scrubbed himself, but it didn't help, he didn't feel any cleaner. He knew inside that nothing would clean away what he had let his sister do. Nothing could clean away breaking one of the oldest taboos. He should have stopped her; should have ran. But he had not, he had just stood there, had let his little sister jerk him off. He leaned against the shower wall and then slowly slid to the floor. He pulled his legs up against his chest, and rested his head on his knees. Hugging himself, confused, and feeling a little violated but also desiring more.

Guinne had watched him run off, hearing the bathroom door slam shut, the water turning on; washing away what she had done, probably. She cringed, had this all been wrong? Her fingers were still in her mouth, the taste of his juices still lingered on her tongue, and while she thought that perhaps she ought to chase him down and talk to him, she couldn't do it like this. All she'd be thinking of was the wetness between her legs, so she headed out of the kitchen as well and soon was dropping onto her brother's guest bed.

She pushed her grey panties down and kicked them off onto the floor, they were nearly black from the moisture her body had produced. She bit her lip as her fingers slid down her stomach. Images of her brother's juices there, not minutes before, made her shiver with excitement. Her fingers continued down until she reached her clit, one pushing down to rub between her lips a bit. It took almost no time before she was whimpering and moaning, before her whole body convulsed and quivered with her release.

She laid back, her breath coming in short hard gasps; she had never made herself cum that hard. She couldn't help but imagine what it might be like if Art's hand had been the one to help her finish.

She frowned at that thought; Art had seemed pretty upset about it. She sat up slowly peering at the open doorway and across the hall to the bathroom's shut door. Slowly she slid from the bed, the warmth of a shower on her mind. The shower was still running, Art still hadn't finished. She figured he would be in there for a while and grabbed the shirt she had been wearing to clean herself up a bit. Guinne pulled a change of clothes from her backpack and pulled it on, heading downstairs after to wait for Art.