A Sibling Love Story

Incest adults stories: A Sibling Love Story. Author: jasmine walker. This story is including Dark Fantasy, Incest, Male / Female Teens, Romance, Written by women Genres. A brother and sister become intimate in New York City during the holidays.

Incest adults stories: A Sibling Love Story

Author: jasmine walker

He Said:

Do you have any idea what it is like to have a sister that is easily the hottest girl I had ever met in real life? Jayda is pretty much every guy’s ultimate stroke fantasy. She has that rare blonde hair that is almost white, the bluest eyes imaginable, and a smile that makes pretty much any man melt. You would assume she would be a cheerleader and dating the football quarterback, yet she was actually a nerd of sorts who broke all the stereotypes of high school. Yet, oddly despite her undisputed beauty, she was actually a very shy and insecure young woman. It seemed those rumors were true, women who are visual perfection are to intimidating to actually ask out as I had never seen Jayda actually go out on a date. It didn’t help that she rebuked the stereotypes by not going to parties, not hanging with jocks and not dressing like a skank.

She was on the debate team, the school choir and spent her after school time split between dance and volunteering. Although it was only December she had scholarship offers to most of the Ivy League schools once she graduated high school.

As for fashion, she seemed to actually try to hide her beauty by wearing very little make-up, wearing her hair in pigtails or a ponytail most days, and dressing as if she was from a different decade. She wore long sundresses most days, with pantyhose and a variety of, as she called them, funky shoes.

To make matters worse, every girl I dated I compared to my sister. I dated a few very pretty girls but couldn’t get past how they were so shallow, so vapid or just downright mean. Although I liked them from the outside, their insides were tainted. Sadly, no one compared to Jayda. It was never a conscious comparison, but that was always the end result. Is such a theory creepy, I suppose, although obviously this wasn’t information I shared with my buddies when I invariably dumped some hot girl.

I didn’t realize it then, but in retrospect it is all crystal clear…I was in love with my younger sister.

I had just finished the fall semester of my junior year of college and Jayda had completed the fall semester of her senior year of high school when the stars all lined up. And I swear, I didn’t plan what was about to happen. Truthfully, although I knew my sister was drop dead gorgeous, I had never thought of her sexually…she was my sister.

Jayda turned eighteen on December 21st, the day after Christmas holidays started, and I had surprised my Broadway obsessed sister with two fourth row center stage tickets to a showing of her favorite musical Phantom of the Opera…in New York City.

I originally bought the tickets for my sister and mom, while dad and I would find something more manly to do, but again the stars lined up and fate was clearly smiling amused. The basement of our family home flooded because of a broken pipe. Mom and Dad had to stay one more day for a plumber to arrive. Mom insisted Jayda take a bus to NYC and not miss the show and that I was going to go to the show with her.

I met her at the bus station just after three PM and like every other time I saw her, I was mesmerized by her beauty. After a quick brother-sister hug, I have to admit my cock got a slight tingle we headed to the hotel to get ready. Mom had originally booked supper for the two of them at some fancy restaurant before the show.

 

On the walk to the hotel, Jayda thanked me profusely for:
A) getting the tickets
B) agreeing to go with her
C) and renting a tux (which she noticed me carrying slung over my shoulder)

I shrugged, and said, “You deserve it sis. You only turn eighteen once.”

We arrived at the hotel, while checking in at the front desk the desk clerk mistook us as being a couple which Jayda thought was hilarious. She laughed even harder when the woman handed me the key and said, “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Clark.”

She chirped as we headed to the elevator, “Can I help you with your bags, Mr. Clark?”

“Respect your elders,” I playfully retorted, being three years older than her.

“Sure thing, Mr. Clark,” she smirked as we got in the elevator.

Once in the room, which was actually a suite (I couldn’t imagine how much our parents had paid for this for three nights), we were in awe. After looking around the room acting all decadent and rich, I pointed out, “Dinner reservations are in just over an hour.”

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Jayda freaked out. “I need to shower, do my hair and make-up and get dressed.”

“You look great,” I said, thinking all I planned to do was put on some more deodorant and change into the tux.

Frantic, she ignored my brotherly compliment and headed to the bathroom.

I quickly changed into my tux and gazed out over the city from the eighteenth story. It was fun to watch the ant-like people scurrying every which way but yet seemingly going nowhere.

Looking at the clock, I knocked on the door, “Forty minutes, Ms. Clark.”

“Shit,” she cursed, her tone so frantically cute; plus I don’t think I had ever heard her swear before.

Making it worse, I pointed out, “Of course you really only have thirty minutes since it is a couple of blocks away.”

“I hate you,” she called out, playful yet clearly in rush mode.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and the moment I saw her I knew my sister had changed from a girl to a woman, from a teenager to an adult. If she was beautiful before she had transcended to a whole new level of beauty. The only word that could remotely do her justice was stunning. A part of me, undeniably, lusted for her. Perfection was so close to me, yet completely out of my reach. The only word out of my mouth was “Wow!!!” with an infinity of exclamation marks. I felt my cock uncontrollably salute her radiant beauty.

Her facial expression and response was so Jayda, her insecurity on her sleeve, “Really?”

“You look like you are ready for the red carpet,” I complimented, her hair down which somehow enhanced her beauty even more, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her without her hair in a ponytail, a bun or pigtails. Her almost white blonde hair also seemed to bring extra attention to her blue as the ocean eyes, as did the slight make-up she was wearing. It seemed to me, she literally glowed. Lastly, she was wearing red lipstick that made her luscious lips stand out and my dirty mind instantly imagined them wrapped around my cock. I quickly tried to squelch the naughty thoughts that my typical man brain brought to life against my will.

“Don’t tease me,” she replied, clearly not believing me, still somehow insecure.

Trying to prove my sincerity, I pointed out the obvious, “Jayda if you were not my sister I would hit on you relentlessly.” Her red dress was classy and yet fit her curves with such smoothness it was as if the dress was a second layer of skin. The dress held her firm breasts perfectly and showed just enough cleavage it would hypnotize any man.

“As if,” she said, turning sideways to look in the mirror. A grimace on her face had her seeing some imaginary flaw that girls always seemed to see in themselves.

From this new angle I could see every curve of her body like a silhouette. Besides her breasts that stood out even more, her ass curved perfectly, elevating her perfection to an 11 out of 10. It was clear that God had finally perfected geometry and biology with my sister. “I am serious, Jayda. You are a very pretty woman.” I considered all the bitches from high school who were pretty outside and how the way they treated people made them ugly to me, but in Jayda her insides were just as pure and beautiful as her outside.

She turned to me, looking so perfect and vulnerable, and asked, her tone full of insecurity, yet a slight smile on her face now, “Do you really think so?”

“I know so,” I smiled warmly, looking down at her legs in tan pantyhose, her toes painted red to match her dress, standing out. My cock ached to be released, the sight of her pantyhose feet impossible to ignore. I imagined rubbing her feet with my hands, I imagined sucking each of her toes in those silk stockings, and I imagined her stocking-clad feet moving up and down on my raging hard-on. I added, my voice sincere, my intent still pure, regardless of a growing hunger down below and in my horny mind, “Jayda, you are a very beautiful woman and any man would be honored to be with you.”

Her cheeks blushed and she said, “Oh Andy, thank you.”

“That said,” I had to break the rare moment of honest intimacy between brother and sister, “the clock is ticking.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, bending down to reach for her ruby red heels that matched her dress. Watching her with inappropriate thoughts for a brother, I imagined lifting up her dress and taking her from behind. She sat on the edge of the bed; slipped into her four inch open-toe heels and buckled them. Even though the act itself was innocent, it only made me want her more. Looking up at me, her smile genuine and wide, she said, “You look pretty handsome yourself big brother.”

It was my turn to blush, my sister complimenting me. Although I wasn’t the perfect specimen my sister was, I came from the same gene pool and had never had a problem with the ladies. I got lucky as often as I struck out, but overall I did pretty well. Joking, I said, “Yes, I look very dapper.”

“Dapper indeed,” she smiled, her tone just a hint of sexiness I was used to getting from a girls I would hook up with. Standing up, she stumbled forward and crashed directly into me.

Temptation giggled like a school girl, as I caught my sister by her breasts. It happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to react other than to just catch her. Time seemed to stand still even though it was probably no more than a couple of seconds that her firm breasts were cupped in my hands as I caught her and quickly pushed her back up.

I stammered, “S-s-sorry.”

Her cheeks almost as red as her lipstick stammered back, “N-n-no, it’s my fault, I am so clumsy.”

Trying to break the sudden awkwardness I suggested, “We should go.”

“Alright,” she agreed, unable to make eye contact with me.

Silence lingered between us as we each tried to figure out how to get past our awkward moment. All I could think about was how big, and firm her breasts were.

Once in the elevator, I couldn’t help but look at her teasing white flesh. The contrast between the red dress and her white breasts a delicious untouchable tease.

It was Jayda who broke the silence. “So thanks for coming.”

“No problem,” I replied, meaning it.

Exciting the elevator, we began walking and I noticed Jayda still struggling with walking in her four-inch heels. I offered her my arm, which she graciously took. The comfort and stability of my arm seemed to instantly relax her. She explained, “Other than practicing in my room, I have never walked in four-inch heels before.”

“Why today?” I asked, even as I realized just how good and natural having her arm hooked with mine felt. If only she wasn’t my sister.

“I wanted to feel like a woman,” she answered, before adding, trying to hide her insecurity, “Plus not many reasons to dress up back home.”

“Touché,” I agreed, our town to small for many dress up events.

Jayda walked in tourist like awe as we slowly walked the four blocks to the restaurant, looking like a couple and not brother and sister. I had been to New York twice before and knew the area a bit.

The four-block walk took ten minutes because of the pedestrian traffic and Jayda’s star-struck gazing.

“Here we are,” I announced as we reached our destination.

Jayda smiled, “Thank goodness, my feet are already killing me and I am starving.”

“Well being Cinderella is painful,” I joked.

“Are you my fairy god-brother?” she countered.

We laughed as we entered the restaurant, her arm still draped around mine.

Ten minutes later, we were seated and had ordered from the menu. “Heels are off,” she announced, with a sigh.

“Thanks for the update,” I quipped back, even as I resisted the temptation to take another good look at her stocking-clad feet.

“I figured you would want to know,” she smiled, with what seemed to be a hint of flirtation.

I briefly wondered if she somehow knew of my foot fetish, but couldn’t think how. I don’t know why I said it but I did. “Does baby sister need a foot massage?” I asked.

I expected her to say no or to at least not take me seriously, but she answered, “God, yes.”

Before I had time to react, her stocking-clad left foot was under the table and in my lap, just inches from my suddenly erect cock. Instinct took over and I took her foot in both my hands. Having a stocking foot fetish, I had given many women foot massages and am quite good at it.

On first touch, she let out a soft moan and my cock involuntarily flinched, desperate to break free from its restrictive cotton prison. Much to my surprise, her stockings were pure silk, so much softer than nylon pantyhose or stockings. I briefly wondered how she ended up purchasing not only pantyhose, but silk pantyhose.

We continued chatting although it was clear that my hands were making her feel good as her responses were delayed. After about five minutes, I asked, “Does Cinderella need her other foot massaged?”

I asked the question trying to keep this fairy tale evening continuing as surreally as possible.

“Please,” she replied, again just the slightest tad of sultriness in her voice, throwing me off a bit.

I let go of her foot and a moment later felt her right one replace it, and she startled me completely when her stocking-clad foot landed on my crotch. It lingered there for two, maybe three, seconds before she looked at me in a way I couldn’t quite place, as if she put her foot on my crotch on purpose, she said, “Oopsies.”