I awakened the next morning and it hit me what I had done. Oh, sure, I already realized it, but I hadn't dwelled on it. Usually, if something is bothering me, I have a hard time falling asleep. But I had been tired. After all, Dad and I had just gotten back from vacation, we had made love multiple times... and now Jeff, my brother, was home from college and I had allowed myself to do what I had always wanted to do, yet swore never to do - have sex with him.
If you haven't read any of my accounts before, my name is Pam. At the time these events occurred I was 18 years old. My mother had gotten killed in an automobile accident on my 18th birthday. That fact is very germane to how and why these events happened. We were all in deep grief. My brother, much to my consternation, had refused to sit out a semester from college. That left me to deal with my Dad's grief, and my own. All this led to Dad and I comforting each other, and my grief-stricken notion that I should take my mother's place, in every way. The first episodes of this saga explain all that. At the time of these events I was about 5-7, weighed around 120 lbs, had 32-C boobs that defied gravity (only on young women, right?), had brown, shoulder length hair, big brown eyes, and a slender waist. My butt was smallish, but firm, and my legs were slender, but muscled from running. In no way did I ever look like I had ever done any weight training, which I haven't. I don't like big muscles on girls, and since I'm a girl, I choose not to have them.
You can't tell, from my writing, but I don't like to brag about anything; however, since this is anonymous and is important to the story, I'll just be honest: I was hot. I liked the way I looked. I liked my boobs and hoped they wouldn't get and bigger (and they haven't). I liked my legs and hoped they wouldn't get more muscular. I liked my body and hoped that I wouldn't get fat. I knew that my face would always be attractive because I have good genes. The women on both sides of my family are attractive, even in their elderly years. So, overall, dear reader, I feel blessed, but I don't take my blessings for granted.
What kind of mess had I gotten myself into? There had never been any fear, on my part, that Jeff would suddenly try to have sex with me. But after I gave my virginity (I almost wrote "lost" - HA!) to my father, I had a different paradigm. So did Jeff - he had recently had his first serious girlfriend and they had been having sex. So we were no longer virgins and the first time we did anything sexual together, we FUCKED. Well, I liked to think of it as "making love", because we do love each other and it was very sensual and loving. It was, even to this day, the most emotionally charged sexual experience I have ever had - and that even includes when I first did it with Daddy. How often do you have sex and it's so intense that it brings you to tears? I mean, it happens, but that first time with Jeff was phenomenal. It was the culmination of years of sexual tension between us; it was "make up sex" because we had been in a big fight; and it was the expression of our grief of losing our mother. All of these things combined to create a sexual stew, a perfect storm that was indescribable and unrepeatable.
These thoughts ran through my head that morning. Were we going to continue to do that? If so, were we going to do it regularly? Did I need to get on birth control? I didn't have that problem with Daddy because he had had a vasectomy. And speaking of Daddy, was sex with him going to stop? Did I want it to? Did he? Was I going to have sex with both of them on a regular basis? That thought made my body begin to tingle. If so, how? How could I juggle that? I didn't like the idea of having sex with one of them while the other one was in the house. That would be pretty easy, if Jeff and I were quiet and careful. But no way could I ever do anything with Dad when Jeff was around. And, dear reader, to save your wondering, no - I never had a threesome and I don't even like the idea of that. Sorry, for those of you who thought I might go in that direction. No. I may like incest, but I'm not into group sex or most other perversions; I'm not into girls or animals or midgets - not that there's anything wrong with that.
My mind was filled with all of these questions and I didn't know what I wanted to do. Well, that's a lie - I did know what I WANTED to do, but I had been brought up to be a moral person. I had even believed that you should not have sex before marriage. I still believe that's the best, but I can't give any lectures on that, can I?
I was brought out of my reverie by the very pleasant smell of bacon and coffee. Jeff must have been cooking because it was well past time for Dad to be at work. I jumped out of bed dressed in my usual tee shirt and panties, used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and headed downstairs. As I expected, Jeff was cooking - bacon, eggs, pancakes, coffee. YUM.
"Hey, Sis," he said when he saw me. "Get some plates while these pancakes are hot."
I did as he asked and helped him a bit. I kissed his cheek. "I love you!" I said happily. "Did you sleep well?"
He smiled. "Well, I thought about coming to your room, but I finally drifted off. So, yes, I slept pretty well."
I looked at him dumbly. "Come to my room? For WHAT?" I asked incredulously. I chuckled.
"I think you borrowed a Trigonometry book that you didn't return. I was wanting to read about the law of cosines," he dead-panned as he served pancakes into our plates.
"Oh, yeah. Well, come get it anytime. You don't have to knock. You can have it any time you want!" I smiled and put my arms around him.
"That's what SHE SAID," we said in unison and laughed.
Jeff turned the stove off and turned to kiss me. We kissed and looked into each other's eyes. "I'm so happy we aren't mad anymore," I said.
We ate breakfast, did the dishes, and went for a run. When we got home, I headed for the shower. I soaped up with the eager expectation of Jeff joining me. I wasn't disappointed. Within minutes, Jeff, gloriously naked and already at half-mast, pulled the shower curtain back and joined me. We soaped each other's bodies and soon his cock was as hard as a hoe handle. I fucking loved it that way. It made my mouth water and it made my pussy drool.
I soaped his nuts, squatting to get a good view of his big, soapy balls. I carefully rinsed his swollen cock and big sack before kissing and sucking at them. I took his cock in my mouth, eagerly taking it deep, gagging myself.
"Fuck, Pammy, you're incredible," he moaned. "I love to do this," I gasped. "I want you to fuck my throat, but I can't get at the right angle here." I stood, and we tongue-kissed, running our hands over each other's bodies.
We dried off and headed for my bed. I lay back, spreading my legs wide in eager welcome of my big brother. I was ready for anything. I was horny and hot and wet and eager. All thoughts of what we should or should not do were shoved aside. I wasn't even trying to rationalize. My brother's hot body was available and I was going to take advantage. I couldn't wait.
He lay between my legs, his body covering mine as he kissed my mouth again. Then he kissed my ears, my throat, the tops of my breasts. FUCK, he knew how to tantalize me. My body was humming and it was all I could do to keep from begging him to fuck me. But I knew that, whatever he did, it would be well worth the teasing and the foreplay. He was kissing and sucking at my throat, not hard enough to leave a hickie, but just enough to make me tingle.
Then he grasped my breasts gently and massaged them tenderly. He knew just how to do it. He must have learned well from his girlfriend and I wondered how in the world she had given him up. He was all about giving me pleasure - and why not? He knew that I was going to pleasure him.
