Sister and Me Cumming

I have three sisters. We are all spaced two years apart, with the youngest, Rachel, a Sophomore at Loyola, which is a strange choice, given that we are a Mormon family, and BYU is literally down the hill from our house. That Rachel left home for college, and that we are Mormon are both important aspect of what happened. The first gave a sense of transience to what occurred. We both knew we would be able to walk away from our actions without seeing each other to have a daily reminder. The second, that we were Mormon, meant that even at eighteen sex remained a mystery for me, because Mormons believe in chastity, and it is not unusual -- and was true in my case -- to have no sexual experience as a teenager. I had never touched a girl sexually, nor seen a girl undressed, in real life or through movies (and certainly not through pornography). I never even watched R-rated movie.

We were not even supposed to masturbate, but of course that was a bit beyond the veil. And the language I am using here, like cock and cum, is language I never used before.

But, I should add, sex was not much of a mystery to Rachel. She had monogamous relationships, but whomever she was with got to know her very well. I found out from her later, once we became open about everything, that she would let her boyfriends have anal sex with her because they believed that if they didn't enter her as God intended it did not reflect a loss of virginity. One reason she did not go to BYU, or even the University of Utah, was not so much because she was looking for a more intense educational experience. Loyola is an OK school, but it didn't have anything on BYU educationally. What it did have, and what almost any school had, was a more open sexual and party culture. And that is what Rachel wanted.

Where to start... I think it is the point at which I became to think of my sister in a sexual context, the point where she became a target for my sexual urges. This happened on her first night home for the Christmas break. We were talking in the TV room about her last semester. About what I should expect when I went to college -- for me, that was BYU. She was sitting on our leather couch and I was in a chair facing her. She sat cross-legged, and her nightgown inched up so I could see her hair. It was only for a moment and she didn't seem to realize that I had this view, but without thinking rearranged herself. For a hormonal teen who had no first-hand knowledge of what lurked down there, this was enough to excite me. I became hard in a moment. I hoped she didn't notice, but as things progressed over the next while, I suspect she had.

I would think about seeing her again. It occupied my thoughts. I would masturbate thinking about getting my cock to rub against her hair, then as my mind released the natural inhibitions of fucking my older sister, I fantasized about her sitting up on the couch, and me entering her. Watching my cock move into her. Not responding with moans or movement, but rather imagined her observing it with detachment. I could go no further with my fantasy; I could see her as an object with a vagina to penetrate, but not as someone who would engage with me full-stop.

And, strange and perverse to me at that time, I started to enrich my masturbation sessions by taking her used underwear from her closet floor, fanaticizing that I was pushing them to the side and going into her. Then I would put them up to my face and pretend my face was between her legs. At first I felt ashamed at doing this, but day-by-day it became more natural. I would look for a pair that was stained, and that had the strongest scent. I would be wrapped up in the seconds before I came and press the underwear against my nose, being excited by what I basically felt even in the moment was a disgusting activity.

As one thing -- seeing her hair -- led to the next -- her used underwear -- that led to a third, and the one that became decisive. The inhibition of fucking her as a female (she is my sister, so I wouldn't say woman, and I also can't say girl), as the possessor of a vagina, and of having her seeing me as a cock, receded. I really wanted to fuck her. My teeth ached when I saw her, and this urge didn't subside even with jerking off. I would get erect spontaneously around her, and the bulge must have been evident to her. I hoped she would see it. But she seemed oblivious to it. Maybe she took spontaneous erections as a fact of life, whether her brother or not.

When she was out during the day. I took her underwear and went into her bed to masturbate, pretending she was there with me. I had the scent of her more fully, and of course the only thing that was missing was her body. I took a towel into the bed to catch my cum, and returned the bed to pretty much the way I found it; not too hard to do, because she never made it.

Maybe I did it accidentally, or maybe subconsciously I wanted to leave my semen there to be pushing against her as she slept. In any case, one time when I squirted out, some shot beyond the towel and wet the sheets. I didn't notice it, but that night she did.

We sat in her room, talking, her nightgown now properly draped. She opened her sheets and saw the streak from my cum. She had undoubtedly navigated around the post-coital wet spots, and knew what this was. She looked at me almost like she could not process what must have occurred. She tried to continue with the conversation, but after half a sentence asked, in a voice that did not change, "Did you go into my bed to masturbate? Did you ejaculate there?" I'm sure she normally would say "did you jerk off" and "did you cum there", but felt she needed to be more proper and clinical with me.

Even her asking that got me aroused. And being aroused the shame I probably should have felt and the inhibitions I would normally have had receded. I replied, "I wanted to feel like I was with somebody, and so I went into your bed to do it. I used a towel, but I guess it squirted out too far." I had an imploring tone, almost as if saying, "You understand, don't you. I need you to see me. I need see you. I need to fuck you."

We then sat there looking at each other and not saying a word. Her gaze moved down to my pants, and her fingers ran back and forth across the crusty surface where my cum had landed. Then she said, "Let me see you do it."

I must have had an expression of disbelief, but she nodded, and said "Let me see your penis." Again, using the more proper language. I started to unzip my pants, slowly, to make sure I understood what she was asking, and as I did it she looked all the more intently yet emotionless at my crotch and gave a little smile. I searched frantically for the opening to pull my cock out, worried that she would change her mind.

Once I navigated it to the slit in my underwear, my cock popped out like a jack-in-the-box. I sat there in the same position facing her, but now with my cock erect in the open. She hardly changed her expression. I might have just as well been adjusting my shirt. Then she said, "Rub it. Do it. I want to see you do what you did in my bed."

I started to rub up and down, and quickly the moment engulfed me, and I looked at her with sexual abandon. Still she watched passively. She was interested, but still clinical. She wanted to see what her brother could do. To see what I had done in her bed. (If she knew what I had done with her dirty underwear, I don't know how this would have transpired.) In what seemed like a few moments -- and probably was -- I came, my semen shooting out and onto the floor, my hands, and along one of the legs of my pants. She looked around, found tissues in the corner, and without a word or hardly a glance handed the box to me. Then went back to sit on the bed and watched as I cleaned things up.

She kept looking at my now-deflated cock. "Well, that was sort of fun to watch. A little gross, but also fun." Then she shifted back on the bed. "Have you ever seen a girl's parts?" She knew the answer so didn't wait for a reply. "Do you want to see them? I guess it doesn't matter to you now even if it is your sister's."

She pulled up her nightgown and spread her legs. All I could see was hair and a little bit of a mound. Then she opened her legs wider, and I started to see a glimpse of pink skin. And then she took her hands to open up the labia and ran a finger around the inside. She gave a smile and said, "Now I'm going to show you something you will never forget. Just sit there and watch"

She let her finger run around the edge of her opening, then up to the top, and let it run around the very edge. Then she started rubbing back and forth. She looked at me as she did it. I realized now that Rachel was masturbating for me. Her eyes didn't move from me, but became more intense. It was exciting, of course, but also scary. It was not the look of my sister. It was like an apparition. One side of her mouth started to quiver. Her breathing became harder and shallow, and then she threw her head back for a second, and let out a sort of grunt, a deep, guttural "uh" with a voice lower than I had ever heard from her.

She closed her legs tightly, shook for a second, and without another word rearranged her nightgown to cover herself properly. With a little smile, she said, "I feel relaxed. Do you?" I couldn't move, or say anything. She continued, "Well, I'm going to sleep. We'll see each other tomorrow, OK?"

I didn't know what that meant. Did it mean, tomorrow we will see each other like this didn't happen? We'll see each other again -- maybe not tomorrow, but sometime -- to do this again? Or, will there be a next step, one I felt now to be inevitable?