My Sister My Slut

NB: This chapter follows from 'My sister, my slut 01'. A brief summary of events from previous chapter: brother finds sister's panties, lusts after sister, feels guilty, sister is drugged at nightclub, brother showers naked with sister. Comments and feedback are welcome.

*****

A pall fell between the two of us that weekend. I could see that my sister was still reeling from what had happened, and I had the sense that her memory was returning in bits and pieces. Being drugged and almost being a victim of a far worse crime had shaken her, but perhaps worse was her growing recollection of what had happened afterwards. She asked me several times; I refused to give a straight answer. I withdrew from my family, ashamed at what I had done, ashamed at my thoughts and fantasies. My sister recognised in me some internal conflict just as I recognised her confusion and fear. When I heard her sobbing late Sunday night, in the same way I had heard the sounds of her sexual activities, I felt my very soul was being trampled. By then she must have known what had happened at the bus-stop and in the bathroom - maybe she wasn't certain, maybe the details were still hazy, but when I caught her eyes in the hallway I could see how the memories troubled her.

I hated myself. I hated that it still aroused me when I replayed the bathroom scenes in my head, thinking about what I should have done differently. I hated the bittersweet agony of my feelings for my sister. But most of all, I hated that she did not, could not, reciprocate them. The entire summer was a train wreck, starting with that simple laundry discovery which pushed me into an abyss of obsessiveness, of sordidness with my sister's panties, of dreams and angst and lust and guilt.

I started when I heard a soft knock on my door on Monday after dinner. The door opened before I responded and I saw my sister. I felt a lump in my throat.

"Alex, I think we need to talk."

I nodded my reply, afraid of speaking. Jen sat on my bed and ran her hands along her thighs, then clasped them together, wringing them briefly.

"You've been avoiding me all weekend," she said.

No response. I evaded her gaze, afraid of the power it had over me.

"Look, I've thought it over a lot. What happened, well, it was-"

"-wrong," I interjected.

My sister looked hurt. Heavens below, was it a mistake to say that?

"Wrong," she repeated, her voice hollow. "I'm sorry I did what I did."

Wait - she was apologising to me?

"I wasn't thinking straight, I felt like I was floating above myself, as if in a dream. Forgive me, Alex. I need to hear you forgive me."

"You did nothing wrong, sis. You weren't yourself."

She nodded, relieved. "Yes, I wasn't myself. You saved me, Alex. I can't thank you enough. The mistakes I would have made..."

I didn't really understand what she was talking about but I felt the tension between us diffuse. She didn't blame me for what had happened - I could hardly believe it. Maybe things could go back to normal between us. I would stop thinking sexually about my sister, stop fantasising about her, and then nothing like this would happen again. We could be normal siblings, nothing between us beyond brotherly/sisterly love. It would be a challenge, now that I had seen her naked beauty up close, now that I had felt her nipples pressed against me and the softness of her buttocks, to say nothing of her beckoning cunny.

Despite my guilt and wretchedness, seeing my sister naked and feeling her hot body against mine had awoken a powerful curiosity in my sister's sex. Where previously I had only dreamt of her naked, or having sex with her boyfriend, a new dream came into my mind: the dream of entering her myself, of making sweet, incestuous love to my sister. It almost felt more absurd that I'd never had the thought before than it did weird to have the thought at all. Yet as the week bore on and outwardly my relationship with my sister returned to normal, inwardly my imagination grew more and more bold.

My rational voice returned, now questioning the practicalities of the proposition rather than its morality. How could I get my sister to have sex with me? How would we hide it from our parents? How would we carry on in our lives afterwards? Perhaps I could get her drunk again, or take her in her sleep, or let her catch me jacking off in her panties and profess my undying love to her... Yes, her panties. I was having withdrawal symptoms; I needed another hit of her freshly discarded panties to sate my lust. I sought opportunities to this end, but it was not until Thursday that I seized one.

My sister had indicated she would no longer go out clubbing, or even to bars, on account of her recent experience. This meant she was at home a lot, mainly in her room. Since her return from overseas I had relearned her daily patterns. At the end of the day she would change to her nightdress, go to the bathroom and then go to bed. She did washing on Mondays and Fridays. On Thursday night I stayed up, giddy with the excitement of what I was soon to do. When I heard her go into the bathroom I had to act fast, dashing into her room, going to her laundry basket, and seizing the day's pair. They were much plainer underpants than the previous pairs, to my disappointment, but once I had them back in the room and was inspecting them, I found that they were warm and damp with the scent of my sister's pussy. I inhaled greedily, then lay on my bed, whereupon I sheathed my dick in her plain, blue cotton panties and fantasised about my gorgeous sister. It was seven days since we'd gone to the night club, since I'd seen her enticing nakedness. Now I replayed those bathroom scenes in my mind, elaborating and embellishing, extrapolating. I would rub her clit, eliciting moans. I would enter her slick wet hole, first with my fingers, then my cock. My sister would feel her brother's shaft plunging into her pink folds, thrusting in and out slowly but with increasing urgency.

I was panting heavily and the knock on my door did not register until it was already swinging open, as usual before I had a chance to answer. I pulled the sheets over me and moved onto my side so my fully erect cock wouldn't poke up so obviously, but I was too slow. My sister gasped at the threshold, her eyes wide. She was wearing her small nightdress, the outlines of her legs and the darkness of her thin line of pubic hair faintly visible, her nipples poking against the fabric. My cheeks turned a deep crimson. I was too embarrassed to speak or move, and my gaze was held as if for eternity by hers.

"Close the door, sis!" I hissed at last.

Instead of leaving, she stepped into my room and closed the door behind her. Then she took another couple of steps and sat at the end of my bed. I was petrified. What the hell was she doing?! Having her so close while I had her panties around my throbbing cock, barely inches from her and only covered by a thin sheet, filled me with great desire and terror in equal measure. I could so easily reach over, push her onto the bed, pull up her nightdress and take her. Equally, she could cry rape and then I'd have my parents storming up here and that would be the end of that. Neither thing happened.

She placed her palm on my calf, causing involuntary and embarrassingly visible twitching through the sheets from my rigid shaft.

"I believe you have something of mine," she said.

Oh Christ! Why the fuck had she been looking in her laundry basket? And, what's more, why did she come in here to retrieve a pair of fucking panties - having worked out that I had them, surely my design for them was obvious? Her hand slid up my leg to where I was holding the sheet against my chest, threatening to pull it off me. I could hardly believe what was happening. I shook my head, my guilt as obvious as my blush. She yanked the sheet, but I held it firm with one hand, the other still wrapped around my cock.

"Oh, are you using them?" she asked, smiling coyly.

I had to be dreaming this - my sister, coming on to me. Goading me!

"You know, after last weekend, I thought that I must be mad. Drunk and drugged as I was, I was still conscious, little brother. I know what happened that night."

"What?" I sputtered.

"All summer I've felt your eyes on me. At first I denied it, told myself that I was imagining things. But then I found the white panties from the night before Luke left. I'm sure you remember. They were on my bed in the morning, innocent as can be, until I discovered the secret within."

My heart was racing a million miles a minute. I didn't understand what was happening, at all. Why wasn't she angry, or disgusted?

"I was shocked, of course. Apparently my brother liked to jerk off in my panties. Initially it disgusted me, and then I thought about it more. In its own way it was touching. Maybe you just liked the sensation of cum-filled panties against your skin - hell, I could understand that. I did an online search. Actually it isn't uncommon, and not necessarily indicative of any sisterly fixation. Definitely not conclusive proof of," she paused, "

incestuous desire.

"

I felt a chill down my spine as she said those words and I felt quite ill, not with guilt, but with shame.

"So I forgave you that indiscretion and waited to see if it would happen again. When it didn't, I figured you were simply curious and made a mistake. Things returned to normal. Then we went clubbing and I was drugged. As you observed, I was high as kite. An evil curiosity awoke in me to see what would happen if I messed with you a little. A little experiment, if you will, to find out the nature of your feelings towards me, and whether you'd act on them. Mind you, I wasn't thinking clearly."

I trembled as my sister recounted events from her point of view, which had a couple of chronological errors but was otherwise accurate. Her embarrassment was evident as she glossed over pissing herself in my arms, but her tone changed as she continued, becoming more animated as she went.

"I was drugged and confused, but I could have sworn that seeing me bare excited you. Then I saw your huge erection in the shower and began to appreciate the effect I was having on you. To be honest, it excited me. I felt like a sicko, but I couldn't deny that it excited me."

My sister's voice was now wavering and her cheeks flush. "But you restrained yourself and helped rather than took advantage of me. And when my memories returned over the course of the weekend, I realised that it was I who was to blame for leading you on. I felt a terrible guilt, sure that you would reject me for my depraved behaviour."

I couldn't believe it. She felt guilty for what she'd done! My sister, admitting to trying to excite me, even if she was drug-addled! I could only nod my head, my other head still twitching in my hand beneath the sheet.

"Since Monday I've reflected on it all. I thought that my suspicions against you were all fabrication, a fantasy! Maybe I was mistaken about the white panties, I told myself. Maybe I was mistaken about what happened in the bathroom, simply imagining your arousal -after all, I was smashed. Maybe it was I who harboured the secret fantasy, not you. You can imagine my surprise then when I saw that my panties, the ones that I'd just taken off, were missing from my laundry basket. And here we are: here - they - are."

With a sudden pull, my sister stripped the bed-sheet from me, revealing my hand clenched around my thick manhood, still clad in her panties. I gasped. She had exposed me, my crime painfully apparent, and yet she did not recoil. In fact, it was becoming obvious that my sister shared at least some of my perverted lust. All this time I had considered only my own feelings, never realising that my sister... well, I still wasn't quite sure. Did she want me as I wanted her, or just to know that I wanted her?

"You look confused," she commented as she placed her delicate hand onto mine, avoiding contact with my throbbing shaft.

She pulled my hand up and down, jerking my cock by proxy. The warmth of my hand, of her hand, of her panties and having her, my sister, my dearest, sexy sister sitting on my bed in her nightdress, playing with me, her brow furrowed with concentration, a ribald grin playing on her lips, her thinly-veiled bosom inches from my face... I feared I would come in that instant, coating my sister in my incestuous seed, so I pulled away from her sultry grasp. It was too much, to be suddenly thrust from fantasy to reality: I needed time to process what was happening. I am a thinker - I don't just do things, yet here I was, here my sister was and what was I doing?

"You don't want me," she exhaled unevenly. "You just wanted my panties, not me."

I couldn't speak. I didn't know what to say. Yes, I wanted her! Of course I did! But how could I say that? If I gave voice to my desire, there could be no taking it back. In a burst of motion she sprang away from me, out of my room and back into her own, her door slamming shut a second later. I made to follow then stopped myself and collapsed onto my bed, my mind spinning.

I couldn't sleep that night, my heart was too charged. Within an hour I was in pain, punished by the blue-balls I had given myself, having become too confused to finish masturbating. Not when I could hear my sister crying into her pillow in the next room. At first I didn't understand her, but eventually I realised the courage it must have taken her to come in here and do what she did, putting her relationship with me on the line. In her eyes I had pulled away, rejecting her. Oh, if only I had told her the truth! She was now suffering the same turmoil I had been suffering. How easy it would be to go in there, to assuage her anguish by telling her how I felt, by apologising, by surrendering to the emotions we both felt. But I couldn't. A thousand scenarios ran through my mind and I was paralysed by fear. When morning light burst through my windows I prayed that I would wake from this fever-dream. Instead, at the threshold of my waking hour I fell asleep, too exhausted to continue.

*

My pitiful rest was interrupted by my mother calling me down to breakfast.

"Jenny! Alex! Breakfast, sleepyheads!" she yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

I cursed and dragged myself out of bed, stepping into the hallway at the same moment as my sister. She averted her eyes and started down the stairs.

"Wait," I said.

She didn't. Down in the kitchen we sat opposite each other, as usual, but she still didn't look at me.

"I thought you and Dad had work this morning," Jen said to Mum.

"No, we have the day off. I thought we all might go to the beach; it's a beautiful day for it."

"Actually, I've got to go to work after lunch," my father grumbled.

"We'll only be a few hours," Mum said, insistent.

I groaned inwardly at the prospect. The beach was well and good, and it was a beautiful day - not perishing heat, but warm and sunny - but I wanted sleep far more. My sister looked equally thrilled as I at the prospect. However, we both knew Mum would have her way whether we liked it or not, so there was little point arguing.

"It'll be good to get you two out of the house. Particularly you, Jenny. You've barely been out at all since Luke left."

I foresaw a long, awkward silence in the car ride there with my sister, and was not disappointed. Being a Friday morning, the beach was not too busy when we arrived and my mother and sister went off to the toilets to get changed. I was already in my board shorts so I only needed to apply sunscreen. Dad, for his part, was pleased to be out of the office and we wandered onto the beach to set up a couple of chairs and an umbrella.

Mum and Jen joined us on the beach. My sister was wearing the skimpiest bathing suit I'd ever seen on her, with the bikini top leaving plenty of her breasts uncovered and her bikini bottoms tight around her small bum. I nearly swallowed my tongue when I saw her cameltoe. Was she doing this to punish me? I looked away before Mum could notice my gaze.

"Ah, my two beautiful ladies. This was a great idea, honey," Dad said.

Christ, a great idea it would be if my sister wasn't here, teasing me with that ridiculous outfit. Not waiting around, I ran into the surf. The water cooled the heat in my loins, but the fire returned as I watched my sister rub tanning lotion into her thighs and the bare tops of her breasts. She was slow and deliberate as she rubbed her taught stomach, making circles down to her bikini bottoms. With this erotic show before me, I was soon hard as steel, and now unable to leave the water without revealing my tented shorts. What was she playing at? She didn't want to talk to me, but surely she knew what a tease she was being! I swam up and down the beach to get away from the titillating sight.

Eventually I tired of my swimming and returned to my family, taking care to pre-emptively tuck my dick into my waistband where my semi-flaccid state was covered by my t-shirt. It was well I did, because as I approached I saw that my sister was now lying on her belly in the sun, her buttocks half bare. Her legs were parted enough for me to get an astonishing view up to her cameltoe, her pussy just covered by the thin fabric. My parents were reading and none of the three noticed my lingering, salacious stare. Or so I thought until my sister wiggled her butt before turning over again to look at me.

"How's the water?" she asked.

"Great," I replied, involuntarily licking my lips.

My sister watched my expression with a keen interest and then stood up, giving me a view down her cleavage as she did so.

"Well, I'll have a swim. You should come in as well, Mum and Dad. Alex says the water is great."

My parents looked up and nodded, and soon we were all in the surf. My sister swam out deeper and I followed.

"We need to talk about last night," I said once we'd stopped.

"Last night? What about it?" she said, playing dumb.

"Everything!" I replied, exasperated.

My sister stared at me, her face bearing an odd, indecipherable expression.

"Nothing happened last night."

"Christ, sis! You know as well as I do that that was not nothing!"

Suddenly her temper flared. "No, you're right! You stole from me; you fouled my panties with your sick behaviour! Then, then, you rejected me!"

My sister turned her back to me with a huff. I was stunned. Our parents were twenty metres away but were oblivious.

"I'm sorry, sis. I'm sorry," I said at last. "I was just scared."

"I was scared too, Alex! It was a lot for

me

to take in. First, that my brother was masturbating in my underwear. Second, that you had seen me naked when I was drugged and that it got you hard. Oh, and third! That despite how wrong it was, I couldn't deny it aroused me too," she said, choking on her words.

I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around her underwater, holding her around her tummy. My rock-hard dick was pressing into the small of her back, but I didn't care. I wanted her. I wanted my sister, to feel her again. Hearing her words dissolved my inhibition.

"Stop it," she gasped as I nuzzled the nook of her neck, her wet golden hair against my cheek.

I pulled her closer into me, into the hardness of my erection, as one hand crept up to cup her left breast, while the other slid down to the waistband of her bikini bottoms.

"Stop it!" she repeated, more insistent this time.

Reason had left me now. All I could sense was my hands squeezing my sister's soft breasts and my fingers groping down to her slit. Then a savage elbow strike to the side and I was forced to release her. My sister kicked away and stared at me, tears now in her eyes.

"You can't treat me like that!" she hissed.