SUMMARY: This is the second chapter of the story about an older brother and his teenage sister having sex days before his wedding day. He continues to struggle to make things right despite his growing sense of guilt, but his sister continues to seduce him and he finds himself unable to resist.
All characters in this story are 18 or older.
AUTHOR NOTE: I have had a couple comments criticizing how I sometimes strings letters together to show that someone is moaning. While I do appreciate feedback, I am honestly not looking for people to tell me how to write. It's ok if you aren't a fan, I'm not offended! Please know that when I string a bunch of "nonsense" letters together, I am not just jamming keys on my keyboard. I very deliberately type out each letter, trying to capture what I imagine the moan sounds like. If I put a lot of the same letters in a row, or make them all caps, it's my way of trying to convey that the person is moaning longer (and potentially louder) than usual. Because it feels so good, you know? Anyway, I just wanted to mention this. If this isn't your style, I don't mind if you don't read my stories.
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.
Over the next two weeks, things seemed to get more convoluted at the same rate that my guilt grew. And the messed up part was that my guilt was a tripled-edged sword. I felt guilt toward my wife for what I had done with my sister. That betrayal was immense and the secret was killing me. I felt guilt toward my sister for sleeping with my wife. That one baffled me at first, but I couldn't deny it. Some part of me had unwittingly committed itself to my sister, as if we were supposed to be in a monogamous relationship.
And then comes the third edge of the sword. I felt guilt for being attracted to my own flesh and blood. My sister. And I had acted on those attractions, multiple times. Maybe at first it had been more of me "giving in" to her advances. But I couldn't deny how much I enjoyed it. How much I enjoyed her company. Touching her. Hugging her. Being touched by her. And especially making love to her. Despite the fact that we had only slept together that one time, right before my wedding, there was something to be said about fantasizing about her while I fucked my wife.
After the first time I thought about my sister while I plowed my cock into Wendy's pussy, I couldn't stop doing it. In fact, I stopped fighting it altogether. My wife seemed to enjoy it. Thoroughly. It was intense for me, so I knew it was intense for her. But the more I did it, the more addicted to it I felt. Over those next two weeks, I made love to my wife nearly a dozen times.
Betraying my sister seemed to be the ever growing skeleton in my closet, though. The more I had sex with my wife, the more I felt like I was jabbing a knife in Shelly's back. It was really backwards and fucked up, I knew. But I couldn't shake the emotion.
During those first weeks, something else was happening, too. Shelly had always been flirtatious with me, for years. But somehow, her flirts seemed to be growing more intense. It was like she cranked the volume on her seduction. It was way more than just secretive little looks or smiles. She touched me frequently. She would drag her hand across my crotch when she passed me in the hall. Or purposely have the bathroom door open while she climbed out of the shower, letting me see her naked body. That one had made me stumble past the doorway. When I made love to Wendy later that day, Shelly's tits were all I could think about. I didn't last long that time.
I very deliberately didn't make any advances back toward my sister. As much guilt as I felt toward her, I still felt wrong about it. Wrong about pursuing a relationship with my own family member. Christ, she was barely an adult! Even though she was nineteen, my parents still treated her like she was a kid. Sometimes I guess even I still saw her as a kid, being my "little sister" and all. It was a hot mess, to be sure.
This leads me to another incident. One I don't even know how I could have avoided. It was just over two weeks since the night when Shelly had come to sleep in bed with me and my wife. It was a Saturday morning and I had just made my way to the bathroom and hopped in the shower. The hot water felt good, and for a short time, I let my problems drip away from me like water going down the drain.
I didn't hear the door open a few minutes later. In fact, I was so relaxed from the hot water pouring down my body, I didn't hear a thing until the shower door opened suddenly and my beautiful, very naked, nineteen-year-old sister stepped in with me. She closed the door quickly behind her to keep the steamy air inside.
"Shit, Shelly! What are you doing??" I cried out in a strangled voice. My eyes darted toward the bathroom door, but I could barely see through the steam-covered glass panels of our shower.
"Relax," she said, smirking at me. My eyes couldn't help but take in her naked chest. Her breasts were glistening from the steam and I noticed that both of her nipples were sticking out, pert and erect. God damn she had perfect tits. "Mom and dad just went to the grocery store, and Wendy went with them." Swallowing, but still unable to lift my gaze from her generous bosom, she added cheerily, "It's just us two!"
Finally, I managed to get my eyes to lift up to her face. She still wore a grin on her lips. She looked excited, not embarrassed at all to be standing naked in front of her brother. I realized that my body was heating up beyond what the water was doing. With a start, I felt a tingle in my cock and when I glanced down, it was starting to stick straight out before me. Shelly giggled, and when I glanced at her face, I saw that her gaze had followed mine. She was staring at my boner.
"Is that for me?" she asked mischievously.
Swallowing, I shook my head. "Uh, it's because of you, but it's not exactly... for you."
