SUMMARY: This story is about an older brother and his younger sister having sex days before he is supposed to get married. He thinks it will be ok as long as they don't get intimate with each other and it's just sex, but he's wrong.
All characters in this story are 18 or older.
AUTHOR NOTE: I decided to write this story from the male point of view. Please excuse any inaccurate descriptions! Also, as usual, I edited this story myself, so there may be some typos, grammatical mistakes, etc. that I missed. I'm doing this for fun, so please judge it with that in mind!
DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to real life personae are strictly coincidental. Copying, re-posting, storing (whether digitally or in print form) or redistribution of this material is prohibited.
STORY:
PART I.
I was getting married in two days. It still seemed strange to me. I couldn't believe I was getting married! I was twenty-eight and had been dating my fiancé, Wendy, since we were both seventeen. She was beautiful and smart and funny and... perfect. She had long, blonde hair, wavy and silky. She was about four inches shorter than me at 5'6". I knew she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Or so I thought.
Something was about to happen that would put a spin on my entire life. You see, two days before my wedding, I had sex with my little sister. Yeah. That happened. But let me explain, starting with a little back story. First of all, my sister is nineteen. Nine years younger than me. And I had known that she had a crush on me for as long as I could remember. Of course, I never thought much of it. I just thought it was a thing little girls did. Develop crushes on immediate family members. If it hadn't been me, I'm sure it would have been my dad. Either way, I just thought it was a normal part of maturity and puberty.
Her name is Shelly. She's a beautiful young girl. Her hair is brown and she keeps it long enough that it hangs past her shoulder blades. She has a beautiful smile with perfect teeth and twinkling brown eyes. I remember seeing her body start to change when she was twelve. Since then, she had really grown into it. She had perfect breasts. They weren't too big, but they were plenty big enough on her short body to give her an ample amount of cleavage when she wore the right shirts. All in all, she was extremely good looking.
She used to flirt with me. Like, all the time. It was all harmless at first, but over the years, as her education increased, her flirting got a little more intense. Again, I laughed it off most of the time. She was a kid to me, and it was what kids did. Except a couple times after she turned eighteen, I would wake up with her in bed with me, rubbing me. One time she actually had her hand inside my pants, stroking my penis. I chased her out when that happened. That was almost a year ago. Of course, once she was gone from my room, I masturbated like mad. Just because it was my little sister didn't make me immune to stimulation like that. I was horny!
Nothing too extreme had happened since that night. She still flirted, and occasionally petted me, or rubbed my butt or my chest, but that was about it. When I told her I was engaged, I'll never forget her reaction. She pouted. As in, little-girl-not-getting-her-way pouting. I messed with her hair to try to lighten the mood, and then shrugged it off.
That was three months ago. Now, it was two days before the big day.
Lying in bed, I was having a hard time falling asleep. My mind was all over the place, thinking about all of my new responsibilities once I got married. We were going to live with my parents for a few months, after the wedding. That helped a little. Plus we both already had decent paying jobs. But there were so many things I didn't know, like how to do taxes once you're married. Things like that. In any case, my head was filled with enough things to worry about that I struggled to find sleep.
Somewhere around two in the morning, I heard footsteps in the hallway. I didn't think much of it at first, until I realized they were coming closer to my room. When the door started creeping open, I lifted my head to see who it was. I figured it was my fiancé. She slept in the guest room next to my parents' room. That was the agreement I had in exchange for letting us live there. We had to wait until after we were married to sleep in the same bed. But that didn't stop her from sneaking in to make love to me every now and then.
Silently, a figure made its way into my room, closing the door on the way. Frowning, I tried to see better, but it was too dark. All I could see was a faint silhouette, framed by shadows. When the figure reached my bed, I heard a clunk and then a curse. That's when I knew who it was.
"Shelly?" I whispered.
My sister climbed into my bed without a word. I heard her lift the covers and shimmy underneath. Once she was lying next to me, she settled her head down on my other pillow. The one that my fiancé usually used. Sighing, I asked my sister gently, "What's wrong?"
Shelly didn't answer right away, but I could tell she was working out something to say, so I kept silent. After a long hesitation, she whispered, "You're really getting married."
"Yeah," I said, shifting a little.
Another long silence stretched between us. I could hear her breathing. The bed creaked as she moved and I heard the covers rustle. Then I felt her pushing up next to me, lying sideways. She draped a hand across my chest and rested her cheek against my arm. She felt warm. And cozy. I didn't move a muscle.
