What if he came in my bedroom? What if he started flirting with me? How strong was I? And now that I wasn’t a virgin anymore – well, I had to stop thinking about it. I couldn’t get it out of my mind that he tried to play with my tits at the most inappropriate time ever. I got dressed in running shorts, a sports bra, and a tee-shirt. Maybe I would go for a run and get my mind off my brother’s penis and what I wanted to do with it. I went downstairs to make coffee.
Jeff was soon downstairs, in the kitchen, where I sat at the table sipping my first cup of coffee. He looked through the refrigerator, found some eggs and bacon and, to my surprise, set about the task of cooking breakfast. He was dressed in loose-fitting shorts and a tee-shirt that said “NERDS RULE”. Barefoot. He looked good.
“Um, are you actually cooking breakfast?” I asked, incredulously.
“Yes. One egg or two?”
“One is fine. Two strips of bacon,” I stated. “And some buttered toast. Peach jelly,” I added.
He looked at me and grinned. “So who usually cooks around here?”
“We kinda take it time about,” I replied. “Dad is a much better cook than me, but when he’s working, I try to do most of the cooking. After all, I’m the woman of the house,” I added, flatly.
The grin fell from his face. I thought, for a moment, that he was going to cry, but he turned back to the stove.
We ate in silence. I did tell him that the food tasted good and thanked him for cooking. We finished, he gathered the dishes, and loaded them into the dishwasher.
As he did so, I went into the living room with my coffee and turned the TV on. Jeff soon joined me. He picked up the remote and hit the mute button. “Pammy. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say to you. There’s nothing that will ever make this up to you.” And with that, he began to sob. Huge tears rolled down his face as he searched frantically for a tissue. He tried to say more, and failed.
This, of course, made me start weeping, too. We both sat there crying, our bodies heaving with great sobs. I know that Jeff must have wept like this when Mom died, but I didn’t remember it. In my mind, he hadn’t cared that much. He was so selfish that his college stuff was more important than me, than Daddy, than grieving for our mother. Now I saw that I was wrong. Jeff may have been selfish, but he wasn’t heartless. He cared.
“Pammy,” he sobbed, “I was selfish. I didn’t think I was, at that time, but now I know I was.” He dabbed at his eyes, but his voice still broke when he talked. “I wish I had…” he sobbed again and made such an utterly hopeless, mournful sound that it startled me. “Pammy. I don’t want you to hate me!” he moaned.
I crossed to him, instinctively. I sat on the couch next to him and put my arms around him, my own sobs making my body shudder. “I don’t hate you, Jeff. I know you love me — and I love you! I have missed you so bad. You don’t even know.”
Suddenly his arms were around me and we were kissing. I guess I had never thought about how it would be to kiss him, about how attracted I was to him, of how much I loved him and missed him and how fucking sexy I thought he was. Tongues intertwined, our tears running down our faces and falling to the floor. We muttered “I love you”‘s and “I missed you”‘s as we continued to kiss as if we were starved for each other. I suppose we were.
Jeff began to kiss my neck. FUCK!! The image of his naked body in the shower, earlier, flashed through my mind. FUCK!! My body was totally responding to him. I was a woman now. I had had sex; I loved it and I was good at it — and I had to admit that what made it even better with Daddy was that it was INCEST. My mind was telling me to ‘fucking stop right now’.
When he put his hand on my breast, I found strength. I pushed his hand away, but continued to kiss him. He tried again, as if perhaps, in my eagerness to pull his hand tighter to me, I had accidentally pushed it away. I grasped his hand, this time, and held it. “Please, Jeff, no. Just kiss me. I need to know that you love me.”
He complied. We were soon laying on the couch, still kissing, still whispering sweetly to each other. I could feel, very distinctly, his erection, through the running shorts. Oh, I wanted it! I wanted to suck him, like I had Daddy. I wanted to give him so much pleasure. And my body wanted more than that. I knew that something was different, now that I was no longer a virgin. What was I even thinking? Was I contemplating doing something with Jeff other than kissing and holding each other? No! We couldn’t. I loved Jeff, but he had not been there for me when I needed him. He had rejected me. I could not have a sexual relationship with both him and my father!
Suddenly I sat up. “We can’t do this, Jeff. We’re brother and sister. I love you and you’re unbelievably good looking and… I’m attracted and you know I am…. but this cannot happen!”
“I did something I wish I hadn’t done, Sis.” He patted the couch and grasped my hand, pulling me down to sit with him. “I had sex. You know what I thought about while we did it?”
“I’m afraid to ask,” I gasped as he stroked my hand and I gazed into his face. I had known, for quite a while, that Jeff had deeper feelings for me than a brother should have for his sister. I had denied to myself that I felt the same way toward him, fearing what might happen if I let that cat out of the bag.
“You already know. You know I was thinking of you, Pam. You’ve always known that there will never be a woman that will mean as much to me as you do, besides the fact that you are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.” He said this with so much passion that it melted my heart. Fresh tears rolled down my face. He kissed them away. “I love you, Pammy. You know I have been in love with you, always. You know that I will never love a woman the way I do you.”
I jerked my hand away. “You abandoned me, Jeff. I needed you worse than I ever had or ever will. You humiliated me. You made me beg you. You made me act like a common whore!” I shouted this last part at him, then ran up the stairs and locked my bedroom door.
After a long while I heard him come up the stairs, but he didn’t come to my door. I assumed he went to his room. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, contemplating what had just happened in the last hour. Did I handle it right? Did I have a right to say what I had said to him? Could I stick to what I said? Was I too weak? I certainly did not hate him – in no way. I loved him and I wanted him to know I loved him – as a brother, and only as a brother. I wanted him to know that I forgave him, but I still felt bitterness toward him. We absolutely could not have a physical relationship! What about kissing? Could we kiss?
And he was no longer a virgin. He had gone all the way! But how did I have a right to be jealous after what I had done?? But he said he thought about ME when he fucked his girlfriend? Did I buy that? Maybe, but she was a very good looking girl. It didn’t matter. It was still a great compliment. And it made me very horny.
After perhaps half an hour of this daydreaming, I thought it was time to go talk this through with him. We had to get along. We had to be on friendly terms with each other if we were going to live in the same house. We had to get over hurt feelings; we had to love each other, but in the right way.
His bedroom door was open. When I peeked in, he was laying on his bed, shirt off, asleep. How could this be arousing to me? But it was. His hairless chest was well-, but not heavily-, muscled. He didn’t have six-pack abs, but his stomach was flat and coated with a fine matte of hair, like Daddy. I loved the way it looked. FUCK! I wanted to kiss him all over, suck his dick, and SO MUCH MORE! But I was going to control myself. I had to.
I tip-toed into his room and lay down next to him and watched him sleep. I loved him so very much. I wished that he were not my brother. I would so love to be his girlfriend and to contemplate marriage with him – to carry and have his babies. The thought made me even wetter. How was I going to stay under the same roof with this beautiful man and not have some kind of physical relationship with him, now that we both were adults and had both had sex, and knowing how we felt about each other? Since I had had sex with Daddy, everything was different. It seemed that my mind was totally focused on sex all the time. And my brother looked good enough to eat! I wanted to do everything with him that a woman can do with a man! Was my body going to react this way every time I saw him or even thought about him?
His eyes opened. Those beautiful, incredibly intelligent, brown eyes. His long eyelashes made him look boyish, but the stubble on his face was indicative that he was a grown, 21 year old, man. My handsome brother!
He smiled and yawned. “What a pleasant surprise. My favorite person in the whole world,” he said.
“Moi?”
“You know that you are, Pammy.” He paused. “I’m sorry about earlier. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I wish I had stayed home and sat out a semester, Sis. I should have… And you shouldn’t have had to belittle yourself to try to get me to stay. I wouldn’t have done… that…”
“You wouldn’t have done what?” I giggled.
“You know,” he said as he blushed.
I tried to look puzzled. I frowned. “I haven’t a clue,” I claimed.
“I wouldn’t have stayed just because you offered to… have sex with me.”
I laughed. “You liar. If you had stayed and I offered it, you would have.” I paused and smiled again. “Wouldn’t you?” I asked in a teasing voice.
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