Her talking about stirring that cum tissue around up her pussy, sure made something of mine stir; I was feeling the beginnings of a raging hardon begin to form.
“But it still wasn’t enough for me, I needed more. So I forced more of my fingers inside. I don’t know how many I got in, but I tried to get in as many as I could, trying to push your seed as deep as I could into my hungry little cunt. It all felt so taboo and forbidden, which made it feel so much better. At that moment I felt like the biggest slut in the world. I felt like my brother’s personal seed receptacle. Your personal cumdumpster.”
At that moment, right after that filth left her sweet lips, I pressed my own lips against hers. And she received them with all the passion she could muster.
It was an exhilarating feeling. It was so wrong, so completely fucked up. But at that moment, we didn’t care. We kissed feverishly. The best way I could describe it was like we were sucking faces. I mean, it was just that intense. While I was sucking, licking, and tasting her lips, she did the same to mine, she was sucking on my tongue, and I was sucking on hers. It was a spit-swapping extravaganza.
I cupped her single exquisitely soft orb in my hand, felt it up, and squeezed, almost manhandling her delicate boob. If she felt any discomfort by my action, she definitely did not show it, on the contrary, she moaned even louder in my mouth, clutching me even tighter.
I’ve never felt so much hunger in my entire fucking life before, here I had my cute, completely bared-ass naked younger sister, in my arms, in anticipation of me fucking her. And she could very well be right in assuming that. By the way, we were kissing, one would assume we were wild animals, tearing away at each other. So it did seem like that was the most likely path we were headed.
The truth is I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to. My mind was already made up. This was really going to happen. I was going to pound my sister into my bed.
I detached my lips and tongue from hers, a small string of saliva between us, still connected us as I pulled away, before breaking off.
I kissed her sweetly on the forehead then, and held it there for a moment, trying to show her warmth and gentleness, in contrast with our aggressive make-out session.
Then I looked at her, with love and tenderness. She looked back at me with this almost vulnerable look, but there was also still some clear affection and admiration in her eyes.
I removed the soiled sheet from her and exposed her shapely form to my avid gaze. I didn’t want to stare too much at her exposed naked body, even though I knew she liked me looking at her. Because this was still my sister, I didn’t want her to see me ogling her in a predatory fashion, even though I’m certain she would have preferred it if I did so.
I took off my shorts, and my underwear soon followed as I moved in between her thighs. She was very quick to open up her legs, as wide open as she could, probably straining her ligaments to their absolute limit. She was ready, she wanted it, there was no doubt in my mind.
I think I was ready, my cock definitely was. It was as stiff as a board and harder than it’s ever been before. It couldn’t have been any more ready to fuck this pussy in front of it. I couldn’t see it, but I knew, I could feel the precum dripping out of my dickhole. I was so ready to pound the shit out of this fine ass bitch, and make this little cunt mine.
That’s just the thing though. This wasn’t some random whore off the street, this was my beloved little sister, and right now, I was thinking of her as some slut I could just stick my dick into. No, I had no right.
And what would Mom say if she was still here? Huh! You absolute degenerate piece of shit. Do you think she would condone this incestuous relationship? Fuck no. She told you to be there for Klara, to protect her from this unforgivingly cruel world. She made you promise. And what did you do? You failed. You’ve failed already. But does that mean you can continue failing? No. That is not an option. There is nothing that can be done about the past now. But at this moment, right here, right now, you have a choice. You can choose to do the right thing, or you can fuck up like you’ve always done.
I choose to do the right thing.
I got out from between her legs. She didn’t try and stop me. I didn’t look at her, I couldn’t look at her. I just sat on the edge of the bed, looking straight out in front of me, contemplating what I would have done, and felt disgusted with myself. What Klara was thinking or feeling, I had no idea. And truth be told, I didn’t want to know. I didn’t feel her make any movements. She was stock-still. I only felt a gaze at the back of my skull. She was definitely looking at me but didn’t say a single word. We must have sat there for a good 2-3 minutes, which felt like hours.
Until I felt her move. She shuffled around for a few moments before she got up, collected her clothing items from the floor, and left my room. I turned my head in another direction as she passed me. I made sure not to look at her. I felt ashamed somehow even though I was certain that I made the right decision.
I’m not sure if she looked back at me as she left. I like to believe that she did, even though she has every reason to be mad at me right now. She might not understand why I made this decision at the moment, but I know she will come to understand.
I sat there for who knows how long, replaying the crazy eventful day over and over again in my head. And there I sat until I realized something. Where is the tissue? I looked around for a bit but couldn’t find it. She had to have taken it with her. I didn’t know how to feel about that. But what I did know; this room suddenly felt very empty without her, and so did I.
—
“Hey, I’m home.”
No response, as usual.
What was unusual though was her absence in the living room. That’s quite a bit odd. Klara is very much a homebody so the odds of her leaving the house this time of day is very unlikely. She always got her butt plastered to that seat when I get home from work.
Why am even I so concerned about her whereabouts? She’s probably in her room or the bathroom or something. Chill man, it’s fine, she’s fine, everything’s fine.
Oh who am I kidding, I’m worried sick about her, and our relationship going forward. Things were already iffy between us, but now, I just don’t know. I might have just screwed everything up between us.
This morning we ate breakfast in awkward silence, even more so than usual. I could barely look at her and when I did, her eyes looked downcast, just staring at her cereal, as I inhaled mine as fast as I could, trying to escape the unbearable tension between us.
It was not like we were the chattiest of siblings before, but this morning… man it was rough.
We are both a bit reserved so it’s been hard for us to share our thoughts and feelings with each other. But it wasn’t always this way. There was a time when we used to share everything together. A time when we would talk about anything and everything.
Yesterday was almost like the old days, well, minus the whole nudity and kissing and… I think you get my point. It truly felt like things were the way they were before between us. She laughed, actually laughed for the first time in God knows how long. Okay, she might have laughed at my expense, but that’s the way things usually went. We used to have this dynamic going on, she was the annoying little sister and I the goody-goody two-shoes big brother. I was by no means perfect of course, oh no, far from it. But that was the roles we each played. Things were so much simpler back then.
But things changed, life happened, and I had to shift my role from a brotherly figure to a more fatherly one. And man, was I not ready. I was still so young when it happened, and had to grow up so fast. I was all alone too. No one to lean on for support, no one to talk to about how I felt. No one to guide me. I was completely alone.
And Klara had it even worse. She was of course even younger than I was when it happened and took it by far the hardest. She and Mom were also exceptionally close. Mom and I were close as well but those two just shared a very special bond, which, if I’m being completely honest, I wish I could’ve had with her.
Unlike me, Klara wasn’t alone, but with our aunt being her role model and guardian, it probably would of been better if she was. Aunt Astrid wasn’t exactly what you would call a poster child for stability. I’m not sure what happened in that house, but knowing my aunt, I have some ideas, and none of them are good.
I failed her. I admit it. I should have done more, tried to stay in touch, visited more, and tried to talk to her more often. But no, what did I do? Absolutely nothing. I might as well have abandoned her. No wonder she hated me. She probably still does.
And I just know something happened to her while she was living with our aunt. I just know it. She probably would never admit it, but I know. I know she’s hiding something from me, and my absence allowed that thing to happen. I wasn’t there to protect her, and for that, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.
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