24 comments/ 156208 views/ 80 favorites Matt and Michelle By: FirstErotic The first week of October was not a pleasurable one for me. My stable of porn just wasn't doing it. I was 19 years old, and for the first time in my life, I was having a hard time achieving an orgasm. I was tense and in desperate need of relief. When that relief finally came, it was unsatisfying. I'd mindlessly click through images and videos which at one point would have pushed me over the edge within minutes, but they did nothing. On Tuesday night, it took me twenty minutes of rubbing, yanking and pulling before my cock dribbled a pathetic few drops of cum into my fist. My dick softened, but the entire experience felt unsatisfying. On Wednesday night, after sitting through an entire 45 minutes of random hardcore porn, I gave up and went to sleep. I know I needed the release because I woke up with my boxers stuck to my crotch. Nocturnal emission. On Thursday night I decided to try a different strategy. I dimmed the lights in my room, put on headphones, and listened to jazz. I was laying on my back in the dark, completely naked, hoping the change in scenery would do the trick. By midnight, I threw off the headphones, rolled over, and went to sleep. Friday morning I woke up with a very stiff cock. I went to the bathroom, pissed uncomfortably, then slithered into a warm shower, hoping I'd finally find relief. My cock was rock hard and throbbing. It was an angry purple. I lathered up and started stroking slowly, feeling an ache in my balls. I squeezed the head of my dick, then sped up my strokes. I desperately needed to cum. A few minutes letter, I could feel my balls tighten and the cum bubble up, but again, a few sad drops sputtered out and washed off my hand, down the drain within a second. I leaned my forearm on the wall of the shower and let out a sob. My cock was still half hard, and I was done. Dejected. Finished. ******** "What's the deal, grump?" My mother tussled the hair on my head as I slumped into a chair in the breakfast nook. She had that patented Worried Mom look. "Nothing. Why?" "You look like someone took away your favorite toy," my father quipped, barely looking up over his paper. My mother shot him a disapproving look. "Matthew, honey, if the stress of college is too much, let us know what we can do to help. You've got a lot on your plate, with a full load of classes and a job." "It's only part time work, Mom, and it's not that bad. I'm fine. I guess I'm just tired or something." "OK. Well you know to speak up if you need anything, right?" My mother is a therapist. She has a hard time leaving the work at work. Sometimes I think she's analyzing my every move. "Where's Michelle?" Dad wondered aloud. Both my mother and I shrugged. My 18 year old sister Michelle was something of a prodigy, and was probably still in her room doing last minute studying for her AP classes. Don't get me wrong, I was a good student too and on full scholarship to state university, but Michelle was something else. We were a very close family, and my parents and I dreaded the day when she'd pick any one of a number of universities which would undoubtedly accept her for admission; she could probably go to an Ivy League across the country. The thought of Michelle sent a little pang through me. We were only 11 months apart in age, so we were extremely close growing up. They say that girls are more emotionally mature than boys, so there was a period of a few years there where I think she was elder sibling, even if not chronologically. I had become so accustomed to having her around, even if she was huddled in the corner of the room with her nose buried in a book. I was accepted to a few schools, but I stayed local. I know she is one of the reasons. Even though she never expresses so, I know it isn't easy for her at school. She has a few friends, but they're high-strung honor students with whom she has little in common, other than academics. I am her best friend. Who am I kidding? She's mine. Even though I was something of a jock, I dated regularly, and I had my buds, she was still my closest friend in the world. "Michelle!" Mom called up the stairs. "Michelle! Breakfast!" I heard a rumbling then a loud thump upstairs, followed by a few choice expletives. My sister came stumbling down the stairs, clutching her left foot, jacket half off, books in a precarious stack on one arm, bag slung across her body. She was such a klutz. It's a miracle she made it down in one piece. "Sorry! I spent a little too much time in the bathroom this morning." Michelle dropped everything on the floor behind her chair. She threw her body into the chair next to me. Her dark brown hair was still damp from the shower, and hung loosely down the middle of her back. Her big almond shaped hazel colored eyes had a tinge of color; they must have been bloodshot from another night of studying. She yawned a huge yawn, stretching her arms high above her head, which pulled her flannel top open a little more than she probably intended. Her breasts, which were rather large for her frame, strained against the dark green tank top she was wearing. I caught myself staring and quickly looked away. My sister was beautiful. She wasn't aware of how beautiful she was, which made her all that much more beautiful. I reached across the table and handed her the carafe of orange juice. I knew it was part of her morning ritual. I knew all of her rituals, her habits, her needs. "Thanks Mathy" She smiled warmly. Her childhood nickname for me stuck, but at some point a few years ago my parents stopped using it. She never did, and rarely called me anything else. She took the carafe and nudged my shoulder with hers in appreciation. "Any Friday night or weekend plans, kids?" Dad finally put down his newspaper and started gulping his coffee. He wasn't grilling us. As far as rules and curfews, our parents were very easygoing on us. I think it's because we were both never in any real trouble. In fact, my mom half-hoped we'd rebel a little and do something out of character. "Kelsey is coming over after school today and we're going over some AP Chem stuff," said Michelle between bites of her English Muffin. "Nothing planned this weekend." She licked the crumbs off her bee stung lips. I felt inappropriate heat between my legs. The three of them glanced over at me. "I've got an Anthro paper. I'll probably hole myself up in my room this weekend and work on it." I wasn't in any mood to go anywhere. I hadn't been on a date in over two months. Most of my high school buddies were gone. My job was only Tuesdays and Thursdays. Maybe it was depression, I don't know, but the idea of spending an entire weekend in the house didn't seem all that bad. Mom's brows knotted in concern. "Do you want to join me and your dad in Santa Barbara?" "Yeah Ma," Michelle chimed in, "That's exactly what a 19 year old boy wants to do: join his parents on a romantic anniversary weekend." She rolled her eyes as my dad chuckled. "It's cool." I tried to act nonchalant. I knew Mom was already a little bit worried about me, I didn't want to give her a reason to fret while on her annual anniversary weekender. "There are a couple of concerts actually, I might go to one. I'd rather stay in town just in case I score tickets." (In my head: "Oh, I'll be in my room, frantically whacking off.") I saw Michelle's eyes get a little wide. She could always tell when I lied. My phone chimed in my pocket and I lifted it out. "So full of shit big bro" was the text on the screen. My sister was stealth-texting under the table again. "There's a bunch of stuff in town that I'd like to do this weekend, Mom." I lobbed the second attempt over the net. That seemed to do the trick with Mom. I could tell by her body language that she relaxed a bit, and would be off my case. Michelle glanced at me realizing I'd conned Mom, and then when the parents were wrapped up in conversation about where they'd have their anniversary dinner, she winked at me. I scrunched my face and gave her a huge, cheeseball smile. She snort-laughed and we shared a moment. "Can you drop me off at school Mathy?" "Only if you're ready to go now. I need to stop at Target before class and I need to get going." Michelle grabbed her stuff from the floor and shoved her backpack into my chest. She pushed so close I could smell her shampoo, her lotion, even her deodorant. They blended together and barely masked the natural, sweet scent that always seemed to linger on her skin. "Take this for me, will ya?" We gathered our things and bid our parents goodbye for the weekend; they'd be gone until Sunday night. When we reached the car, Michelle threw open the back seat, and reached in, headfirst. "I think I dropped my headphones in your backseat a few days ago." I stood a few feet away, watching her wiggle her ass up in the air as she maneuvered in the back of my car, hunting for the earphones. Was it my imagination, or was she wearing tighter jeans than she ever had? Her tank top barely covered her midriff, and her flannel was now riding up her back, giving me a nice view of her jeans-covered ass. I was lost in thought, staring dully, mouth agape. I must have looked like quite a sight. "Shit!" she stuttered, before losing her feet slipped out from under her. Within seconds, she was doing a faceplant into the passenger side back seat. That clumsiness caught up with her, again. I threw her backpack into the passenger front seat, and hurried back to where her body was now slumped awkwardly in the back of my car. I gripped her hips and yanked her up, pulling her body toward me. She steadied herself by placing one hand on top of my car, and leaned back into me. "Thanks." My right arm slipped down below her arms and around her waist. I pressed gently, and she relaxed her body back into mine. Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned my face forward and buried it in the back of her hair. I inhaled deeply. She pushed her body back against me, a little more firmly this time, and I whimpered. I could smell her lavender shampoo in her near-damp hair. "Shelly..." I stammered out, but couldn't manage any more words. I squeezed tighter, but suddenly realized that the growing bulge in my jeans was pressing back into her ass. "Sorry. Sorry." I apologized for nothing in particular. I loosened my grip on her, and she chuckled. "Getting sentimental in your old age, big brother?" Either she didn't notice the bulge, or she decided to ignore it. She beamed that beautiful smile that she rarely shared with anyone outside the family. "I guess so. Maybe a little bit." She smiled and slid her body into the front seat. I closed her door, and walked around the car to the driver's side. It gave me an opportunity to shift my growing cock in my pants, which was now feeling more uncomfortable than ever. I was also feeling like a complete and utter creep. I was so aroused by my own sister's body, I was practically panting. The drive to school was quiet. Often, she would plug her iPod into the car's stereo and share some of her favorite songs with me, but this morning she spent the five minutes of our commute to her school thumbing through some of her chemistry notes. "Need me to pick you up after school?" "No. Kelsey and I are going to study, so she'll bring me home." She squinted her eyes and studied my face. "OK. Text me if something changes." She leaned over and kissed me. It was a gentle peck, mostly on the cheek, but the corner of her mouth brushed mine. "Thanks Mathy. Beats walking." I smiled and drank her in. She hovered just a few inches from my face. I reached my hand up and tugged a lock of her hair. "You really are sentimental today. You ok?" She had the same worried look that Mom had earlier. "Yeah. Yeah. It's good. I'm good." This time, I'm not sure I was convincing. "We'll talk tonight," she offered, and grabbed her stuff, leaving my car. Everything suddenly felt empty and lonely, just like that. As I drove off, I my head was muddled with thoughts of pain, of love, of arousal. Most of all: of guilt. I was entertaining impure thoughts about my sister. ******** I got home at 2 pm, and the house was empty. My parents had started their drive for their anniversary weekend, and Michelle wasn't home from school. I pulled the car more forward than usual in our drive, because Kelsey was as horrible at parking as she was at driving. In fact, there was a lot about Kelsey that was wrong. I decided that I'd make myself very scarce for her visit. Once I got inside, I started a load of laundry and cleaned up my room a bit before deciding that I really needed to find something to clear my head. I felt like jerking off again, but didn't want to get started knowing that my sister and her friend would be home shortly. A jog seemed like a good idea. For the first mile and a half, I could think of nothing but Michelle. For every fifth or sixth step, the thought of the curve of Michelle's hip or her ass or the scent of her neck would seep into my head, and I'd purge it out. The thought would come back, and I'd purge it again. I'd pick up my pace, run a little harder. This continued, step after step, until finally I stopped running and stood in place, gasping for air. I looked up and realized I had gotten further than I usually do before turning around, so I made the turn and hustled back in the direction of the house. When I got to the house, I was practically wheezing, and soak in sweat. Still no car in the driveway. I stumbled up the stairs and stripped my clothes, dropping them in the hamper in my closet. I walked naked across the hall to the bathroom. It gave me a little thrill, because we weren't one of those "walk around naked" families. But no one was home, so what was the harm, right? I turned on the shower and got in, not even bothering to close the door. My head was still swimming, and despite the exertion, my erection was back with a vengeance. I thought about wanking it there in the shower, but after the last unsatisfying shower ejaculation, I thought I'd wait until I was in my room tonight. In my post-run state, I forgot that my sister and Kelsey would be home. As soon as I turned off the water, I heard their voices. Kelsey's shrill, shrieking voice cut through the sound of Michelle's more muted, raspy voice. I reached for a towel and realized two things. First, the bathroom door was open, and at some point if they had walked past the bathroom (which they must have had to do in order to get to Michelle's room), they would have seen my naked body, right through the shower glass. It must have been of my backside, because I didn't see them walk. The second thing I realized was that I was in the bathroom without any clothes, and would have to walk out into the hallway, past Michelle's room, to get to my bedroom and some clothes. I looked on the back of the bathroom door for my dad's robe, but it was gone; he must have packed it on his trip. The meager little bath towel would have to do. I wrapped it firmly around my waist. I didn't even bother to dry my body. I just wanted to scramble into my room, get the door closed, and get dressed. For a brief moment, I entertained the thought of asking Michelle to bring me some clothes, but then I thought that seemed silly. I was overreacting. I ran quickly into the hallway and past Michelle's room. I must have been nothing but a blur, because they both snapped their heads up but didn't say anything. I got to my room and closed the door, and not two seconds later was someone there, knocking. "Yo, kid. It's Kelsey." Shit. I just wanted to ignore her. "Hey Kelsey. What's going on?" "You going to open the door?" "Sorry, getting dressed." "I don't mind." She said it in the most obnoxious, exaggerated flirtatious voice. Nothing subtle about this girl. "Right," I chuckled. "Well I'll be out in a few." "I'll be in your sister's room," she said, then dropped her voice unnaturally a couple of octaves, "I'll be waiting for you." She was such a boner killer. I glanced down and noticed that everything going on earlier around my crotch had settled. I threw myself onto my bed, letting my still-wet back dampen the sheets. I needed to change the sheets anyway, I reasoned. I quickly dried off and threw on some pull-on basketball shorts and a t-shirt. ******** "Knock knock." I stood in the doorway of Michelle's room. The girls were huddled over her desk, and displayed on her monitor was one of a series of photos from a beach day trip they took a few months earlier. There were five girls, and of the five, Michelle stood out in every photo as the most stunning. She was in a black bikini, but it wasn't too skimpy. Her natural thick, wavy brown hair cascaded down over her shoulders to her breasts. Her narrow waist flared out to perfect hips. Her legs were lean, toned and unblemished. The skin on her entire body was so soft, and even though she was fairly pale, her skin had a beautiful glow. They looked back at me for a moment, and turned back to the photos. "We're just putting up the pics from this album onto Facebook. Kelsey thinks we'll score some hot guys in school if we do," Michelle said, rolling her eyes. "Know any college guys who might want to hit this?" Kelsey sputtered, putting her hands behind her head and contorting into an awkward, mock pinup girl pose. "I'm sure there must be some," I politely offered. I wasn't having any part of her flirting, but didn't want to seem callous. "OK ladies, I'm ordering pizza for dinner. Speak now about what toppings you'd like, or you'll be stuck eating whatever I get." "Kelsey isn't going to be here," Michelle said, not taking her eyes off what she was doing on the computer. "It'll just be you and me, you know what I like." I know she meant on her pizza, but my dick twitched at the way she said the words "you know what I like". She was still captioning photos, and I was still riveted by them. Even from a few feet away, I could make out quite a bit of detail. "I can stay for dinner if you want the company," said Kelsey. I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or to Michelle. I didn't want to chance it, so I responded, "That's ok. You go ahead and do whatever it is you had planned, we're fine." "Suit yourself," she said, "But I am a good time. You're missing out." Michelle laughed, assuming that Kelsey was joking. Meanwhile, Kelsey was still looking back toward me, leering at me. She glanced down toward my crotch, where I know there were signs of life, because I was still enthralled by the beach photos. I excused myself to my room, and spend the next few hours working on a paper. By the time I ordered the pizza (with Michelle's favorite toppings, of course), Kelsey was gone, and mercifully she didn't pop by my room to say goodbye. I arranged two plates, cloth napkins, silverware, and two wine goblets at the dining room table. I opened a bottle of wine. Our parents were fairly liberal about letting us drink beer or wine at home, and we rarely did. I also made a couple of small bowls of salad. I lit some very under-used candles. I almost chickened out and blew out the candles, when I heard Michelle behind me, "Very nice big bro! If only I could score a date with a guy who would do this!" "It's just pizza," I must have been blushing. "So? This is the way you get into a girl's pants!" she winked. "Are you practicing on me?" I started to talk but just stammered. My cock was again springing to life, even though in my mind I knew everything she was saying was in jest. My body was not cooperating. I pulled her chair out, then hurried over to my side of the table and sat, dropping the napkin into my uncooperative lap. I scooted my chair in as close to the table as possible. My dick was rock hard and aching, and it didn't help that Michelle was now wearing a tank top with no bra, and pajama shorts. Matt and Michelle Ch. 02 For weeks, I was anguished. Watching my brother suffer from some unidentified ail was so difficult. He would pinch his fingers over the bridge of his nose and squeeze his eyes shut, sucking air in and out of his mouth as though something hurt. He'd stumble out of his room in the morning, and it was apparent that he hadn't slept very well. His healthy, athletic, 19-year old body would slump over at the dinner table, as though he was injured. I wanted so desperately to help, but even the most simple inquiry would make him defensive, and more withdrawn. He never stopped being kind to me. He was helpful and loving. He was as attentive as he ever was. But he was bruised, damaged, harmed. From a cause, and in a way, that I did not understand. It pained me to witness. Although I never expected he would confide in me, his baby sister, I really wanted to help. I wanted to know. I wanted to feel what he was feeling. I wanted him to dump his hurt on me. Unload the pain, whatever it was. Absorb it into myself. I loved him. I didn't love him in the way a sister loves her brother. Though, I suppose I did. There was certainly that conventional love between siblings. But I loved him deeply, romantically, erotically, achingly. Not the way a sister loves her brother. The way a woman loves a man. His suffering, even though its cause was a mystery to me, only made me desire him more. This was not some flighty, adolescent crush. It wasn't lust, either. It didn't happen overnight. It just was. It was always there. It was something I knew, as well as I knew who I was, where I lived, that I was alive. I was in love with Matt. Matt happened to be my brother. I was resigned to live a life that did not contain any romantic love, because the romantic love I needed would never be available to me. I poured myself into my studies in a way that even I knew was unnatural and all-consuming. I was that kid you would hear about studying for seven or eight hours in a single night. It kept the demons at bay. As far as vices go, I suppose it was better than drugs, or shopping, or eating. I was such an analytical creature. If I had an interest in any subject, I'd learn about every detail, every facet, every fact. I was amassing knowledge as a substitute for the gaping hole in my heart. I was collecting. It filled the holes. It muffled the trembling, throbbing need between my legs. As for my unfulfilled lust, what could I do? I bought a vibrator, which could bring me to orgasm, but I knew would never substitute for the touch of the man my body craved. I would lay in bed and fantasize about a man on top of me, taking me, plundering his dick into me. He would start as a nameless, faceless figure. Just a blur. But slowly his body would take form, his face would take shape. His face would start to go from a hazy blob to a more focused image. One with wavy brown hair, beautiful hazel eyes shaded by dark lashes, and dark brows. A square jaw. A graceful neck that was just a hair too long. Broad, strong shoulders. A chiseled torso. It was Matt. It was Matt every time. Matt would come in from a jog and throw his sweat-soaked shirt into the hamper. About once a week I'd retrieve a freshly worn shirt and go into my room. I'd inhale his scent on the soiled clothing. I'd let myself get lost in the smell, the moisture, the very idea that the shirt was just on his body. Eventually, that familiar ache would start between my legs, and I'd lower the shirt, rubbing a bunched-up fistful of fabric against my pussy. I'd massage just over the hood covering my clit, pressing harder and harder, until I came. Unbeknownst to him, for the past couple of years, Matt had been the source of practically every orgasm I had. ******** On the first Thursday of October, I was in my room studying AP Chem. It was just past 11:00 pm, and I knew it was time to give it a rest for the night. After the third or fourth time reading the same line without comprehending a word of it, I knew I was useless. I threw the book closed. I was walking down the hall to go to the bathroom when I realized how still the house was. This happened often. Matt would be sound asleep, and my parents, if they were awake, had a bedroom two stories below ours, so the house would feel so still and empty. I'm not sure what compelled me, but I decided I'd pop my head into Matt's room, just to watch him sleep for a minute. When I was younger, I used to crawl in with him, but stopped doing it when it became socially unacceptable. How long ago was that? Eight years ago? Ten? I slowly opened the door to his room, and peeked my head in. It was very dark, so it took my eyes a moment to adjust. It wasn't silent. What was that noise I was hearing? A squishing sound. It was my brother, on top of his sheets, hand greased up with lotion from the bottle on his nightstand, and he was jerking off. "Matt!" I whispered. I don't know why I thought getting his attention would be a good idea, but for whatever reason, it seemed like the right thing to do. He didn't respond, and he didn't even look my way. His head was tilted back. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dark, but finally I saw that he had on his big noise-cancelling headphones. He had no idea I was standing there. I wanted so badly to get closer to him, to see what he was doing, to see his cock. From my angle, his hand was just a blur. How long had he been going? How long would it take for him to cum? I took one step forward, and then stopped. This wasn't right, and he'd hate me. He'd never talk to me again. This was private. This was not my space, not my world. The world of Matt's sexuality was off limits to me. I had long ago passed the feeling of guilt for my extreme attraction to my brother; if I had been given a green light, I would have acted on it without any hesitation. But I would never allow myself to ruin our relationship. The desire was mine, not his. That road traveled in one direction only. I took a step backwards, then another. Then a third. I closed the door to his room. I pivoted on the ball of my foot to turn toward my room, took one step, and nearly collapsed. I pressed my thighs together as hard as I could, and I came, right there. The lips of my pussy barely brushed against each other and I unraveled. I hadn't even touched myself, and standing in the hallway outside my brother's room, I had the most intense, amazing orgasm of my life, until that moment. I didn't even know I was turned on until I let my brain process what I had seen. My body was flying forward, and my brain was delayed by several seconds. I slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. I lay there for some time, before picking myself up and going to my room. My panties and yoga pants were soaked with fluid. They made an obscene noise as I peeled them off my body. I took a clean washcloth and wiped myself down. I thought about showering, but felt so completely exhausted, I couldn't even re-dress myself before crawling under the covers and drifting off to sleep. I was still in a partial state of arousal when I drifted off. Every cell in my body felt like it was vibrating. ******** Friday morning I woke up as aroused as I was when I fell asleep. The alarm jarred me out of my dreams, and I dragged myself into the bathroom to shower. The bathroom was still a little steamy, probably from Matt. "Mathy?" I called to his closed bedroom door, but there was no answer. He was probably already downstairs. I went back to the bathroom and took my shower, lingering a little too long. Sometimes I'd let my mind wander, and imagine what Matt would do in the shower. How he'd wash his hair, soap his body. I would wonder if he jerked off in the shower, and if so, how he did it. Eventually my hand would find its way between my legs, and I'd rub to ease the ache. That's what happened on Friday morning. With the darkly-lit visions from the previous night still fresh in my mind, I had a fairly good orgasm. ******** I wasted too much time in the shower. I was now in a rush to get myself dressed and hopefully bum a ride from Matt to school. I threw together my bookbag, and grabbed a jacket which never quite made it onto my body. "Michelle!" Mom called up the stairs. "Michelle! Breakfast!" My mother's voice caught me off guard. I stumbled, and barely caught myself on the railing. My bookbag wasn't so lucky; it made it to the bottom of the stairs before me. "Shit! Be right th---shit!" I stubbed my toe. Finally I made it into the kitchen and threw my stuff into a corner. I didn't bother with the jacket. I was incredibly clumsy. It's a miracle I hadn't had any serious accidents by this point in my life. "Sorry! I spent a little too much time in the bathroom this morning." Hey, I was nothing if not truthful. I sat in the empty chair at the table. I was scared to look at Matt, because I couldn't trust my own reactions. Eventually, I glanced at Matt, and caught him staring. He was starting at my chest, which made me feel a little self conscious, and more than a little flushed. I thought I understood: he was a guy, and that's what they did. My tits were a little bigger than I would have liked - they were more than a handful each. I tried to wear clothes that didn't draw attention to them, but given their size relative to my frame, it was hard to not look busty, no matter what I wore. I wanted to flatter myself and say that Matt found them sexy, or that he found ME sexy, but they're just tits, I reasoned. They could have been on anyone. He quickly averted his eyes, but then reached across the table and handed me the carafe of orange juice. It made me smile, that simple task. He knew me so well. "Thanks Mathy" I leaned my body toward his and pressed my shoulder against him. He looked at me so lovingly. And something else. It was longing, it must have been longing. I really wanted it to be longing, but couldn't permit myself to get my hopes up, so I chalked it up to simple kindness that I was misinterpreting. I somehow suspected that I wasn't Matt's type. I don't know what his type was, actually. Thinking back at some of the girls he dated, there was nothing they had in common with each other other than the fact that they were female. But me? None of them had anything in common with me. If Matt had a type, I wasn't it. I didn't fit that type at all. Not to mention the fact that I was his sister. While I may have been comfortable with my own unnatural feelings toward him, I couldn't imagine they were reciprocated. "Any Friday night or weekend plans, kids?" Dad spoke up. I think this was directed more at Matt than me, but I could sense Matt's discomfort, so I decided to offer my answer first in the hope that they'd lay off him and leave him alone. "Kelsey is coming over after school today and we're going over some AP Chem stuff," I said, while shoveling down an English muffin. I was not a graceful eater, and I was more and more aware of this fact as time went on. I was beginning to be more aware of my actions around Matt. "Nothing planned this weekend," I followed up on my original statement. I glanced over to Matt, and he was staring at me still, more intensely than before. This time, he was staring into my face, and not at my chest. I shifted my body in the chair. I was slightly uncomfortable. Or maybe just unsettled a little. I hated it when anyone watched me eat, and especially when Matt watched me eat, even though we'd shared thousands of meals together throughout our lives. "I've got an Anthro paper. I'll probably hole myself up in my room this weekend and work on it." He never took his eyes off me. I stared back now, trying to read his expressions. Mom broke our spell. "Do you want to join me and your dad in Santa Barbara?" Here we go, I thought. This is the part where Mom, ever the psychologist, even at home, thinks she's going to headshrink everyone. "Yeah Ma, that's exactly what a 19 year old boy wants to do: join his parents on a romantic anniversary weekend." I rolled my eyes. At least Dad got it and laughed at my joke. Matt was uncomfortable, and I could tell he wasn't looking forward to Mom's grilling. On one hand, I was sympathetic to what she was doing; I was concerned about Matt's recent mood also. But this wasn't the way to get through to him. "It's cool. There are a couple of concerts actually, I might go to one. I'd rather stay in town just in case I score tickets," Matt lied. He would have told me if there was a concert. We usually went together, or at least we used to go, until his mood soured a couple of months prior and he turned into a hermit. I texted under the table, ribbing him for his attempts to lie to Mom. "There's a bunch of stuff in town that I'd like to do this weekend, Mom." Now he was really laying it on thick. Poor, deluded Mom. I wondered if she was very useful to her patients. She couldn't have been the world's best therapist, given how easy it was for us to pull one over on her. But Matt's second attempt worked. She eased off. Mom and Dad began to discuss their weekend plans. I looked over and saw his beautiful smile. I winked. I'm not a winker, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. We were sharing one of those sibling moments. We had a million of them growing up, but somehow, they felt more important now. More weighty, somehow. In response to my wink, he contorted his face into this weird, huge smile. I chuckled. After a moment, I finally brought my eyes back to my plate. "Can you drop me off at school Mathy?" "Only if you're ready to go now. I need to stop at Target before class and I need to get going." Not wanting to inconvenience him or make him wait, I quickly grabbed my stuff, kissed my parents goodbye for the weekend, and hustled out the door. "I think I dropped my headphones in your backseat a few days ago." Just as he unlocked the doors, I started fishing through the backseat to find some headphones I dropped there earlier in the week. It only took me a second to lose my balance "Shit!" Before I knew what was happening, my feet slipped, and I plunked belly first into the backseat. Graceful like a swan? No. Absolutely not. Before I knew what was happening, Matt gripped my hips with his very big, very strong hands, and yanked me backwards. "Thanks." My entire body was now leaning back against his, and he took one arm and wrapped it around the front of me, clutching my opposite hip. My knees were weak, and my eyes rolled back in my head. I was shaking. The firmness and warmth and softness of his body felt incredible. Without warning, he pressed his face into the back of my head, over my hair, where my neck was. He inhaled, very deeply. At this point, my body took over and my actions were involuntary. I pushed back against him and squeezed the arm he had wrapped around my waist. He let out a little whimpering sigh. "Shelly..." he was stuttering to say something, but no words came out. I pressed back against him. He pressed forward against me, and suddenly, I felt his erection. Quickly, he eased up and pushed me forward off of him. "Sorry. Sorry." What was he sorry about? He looked so uncomfortable. I giggled to lighten the mood. "Getting sentimental in your old age, big brother?" I smiled and tried to put him at ease. I wanted to know what he was uncomfortable about. Was it because he had a hard on? "I guess so. Maybe a little bit sentimental." He was blushing. Was he embarrassed about being aroused? If only he knew. Standing there, by his car, all I wanted to do was reach into his pants and grab his erection. But that's not what he wants, I told myself. Arousal happens to guys, all the time. It wasn't about me. It wasn't about me. That had become my mantra. I smiled and got into the car. My thoughts were racing. I sometimes played DJ and shared music on our commute, but today I couldn't think. I wanted so badly to ask him about him. About his feelings, about what was going on. Before I could compose my thoughts, we arrived at my school. "Need me to pick you up after school?" He was leaning back, staring at me. He was looking me up and down as though I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. "No. Kelsey and I are going to study, so she'll bring me home." "OK. Text me if something changes." He didn't look as embarrassed as he had been a few minutes ago, but there was something else going on. I took a chance, and did something uncharacteristic. I leaned over to kiss him goodbye. It was a chaste, simple kiss on the cheek. Even so, it felt like electricity was going off where my lips made contact with his skin. "Thanks Mathy. Beats walking." I kept my face close to his, and he lifted his hand, as though he was going to place it on my head. As though he was going to pull me in for another kiss. He paused and made a fist, then grabbed a few strands of my hair, and tugged playfully. Suddenly, he looked wistful. "You really are sentimental today. You ok?" I wasn't sure if I should push it, but I wanted to know. "Yeah. Yeah. It's good. I'm good," he lied. "We'll talk tonight." I grabbed my stuff and got out of the car. I glanced back and smiled. I hurried off to class, and spent most of the next seven or so hours obsessing over the thirty second embrace we had before getting into the car. ******** Kelsey and I arrived back at our house right after our last class. Matt's car was in the driveway, so he was already home. "Oh gawwwd is that your brother's car? Is he home? He is so hot. I would so do him." "Kelsey, yuck. That's my brother you're talking about." "Sorry, it's the hormones. Teenagers, what can ya do? Anyway, I would let him hit this. I would soooo let him hit this. I would rock his world." "Shut up. You've never even had sex." "Yeah, but I gave David Kurtz a handjob backstage during Theater Arts last month." "Uh, gross. Just gross. Why would you do that?" "He fingered me. It was only fair." "You are oversexed." "Yeah, duh. So? It's not a problem unless it becomes a problem. And it's not a problem." "Let's just go inside and chill. Hands off my brother." "Buzz. Kill." We got inside and grabbed some drinks from the fridge. "Mathy?" I called out, but no answer. I thought I heard the shower upstairs. We walked up to my room, and as we passed the bathroom, Matt had left the door open and was showering. He had his back turned to us, and it was pretty steamy, so you couldn't see much of anything. "Hubba hubba holy shit Michelle. His wet bod is on display!" Luckily he didn't notice us, and I shoved Kelsey down the hall and into my room before she made a scene. I would have loved to have casually caught him coming out of the shower naked, but had no interest in sharing the adventure with Kelsey. After about five minutes in my room, we heard the shower water turn off. We were at the computer uploading some photos from a girls outing we had taken with a few other friends the past summer. Suddenly, Matt was a blur running through the hallway to his room. He was wearing a towel. He quickly slammed the door to his room. "I'm going to go flirt." With that, she was off. I didn't even know if it was worth attempting to stop her. I wasn't sure how Matt would react to her. I had to get used to the idea of him fucking someone who wasn't me. He wasn't a virgin, he was going to have girlfriends. If he ever got out of his brooding state, he'd probably even get married some day. I was in no position to start getting possessive. Kelsey was gone for less than a minute before she came back. "Struck out." "What did you expect? That he was going to throw you onto his bed and fuck your brains out?" "That is so hot. That. Is. So. Hot. I wish he would have." "You're an idiot." "Whatever, Ice Queen." "Just because I don't get atwitter at the thought of you fucking my brother, I'm frigid?" Matt and Michelle Ch. 02 "Whatever." Kelsey rolled her eyes at me. "You have some fine man meat in this house. It's too bad you're his sister. But I'm not, so I will sample the merchandise." I ignored her, and kept uploading and labeling photos. "Knock knock." Matt had arrived to my room. He looked incredible. Even in a t-shirt and shorts, he was sex personified. He was absolutely beautiful. I hoped he hadn't heard our ugly little exchange a moment before. I looked carefully at his face, but it didn't reveal anything. If he had heard, he wasn't bothered by what he heard. I dragged my eyes off of him and back to my work on the computer. "We're just putting up the pics from this album onto Facebook. Kelsey thinks we'll score some hot guys in school if we do," I said, testing the waters to see if he would bite. Kelsey wasn't making any progress on her own. I wondered what would happen if I helped her. He glanced over to the photo of all of us girls in a group. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Maybe he was interested in her? Kelsey picked up on his interest in the photo. "Know any college guys who might want to hit this?" Kelsey shifted her body into the most ridiculous display. "I'm sure there must be some," Matt was curt, and obviously not interested in playing her game. I must have misread his face when he gawked at the photo. "OK ladies, I'm ordering pizza for dinner. Speak now about what toppings you'd like, or you'll be stuck eating whatever I get." "Kelsey isn't going to be here," I quickly said, revoking her invitation. "It'll just be you and me, you know what I like." I didn't want her around. I was suddenly very possessive. "I can stay for dinner if you want the company," said Kelsey. She was a little miffed. Just as I was about to guiltily tell her that she could stay, Matt chimed in, "That's ok. You go ahead and do whatever it is you had planned, we're fine." "Suit yourself," she said, "But I am a good time. You're missing out." I chuckled, and played it off like she was joking. Matt bid us goodbye and went back to his room. "What the fuck, Michelle? How can I score with him if you cockblock?" "I'm not cockblocking. He's not interested. Sorry girl, he's just not that into you." She seemed a little hurt, but because she had the attention span of a gnat, she had moved on and was lurking on some other guy's Facebook page within a minute. After a few hours, she left. I asked her if she wanted to say goodbye to Matt as I walked her out, but she just shrugged. Back in the privacy of my room, I let the day's events play through my mind again and again. Matt seemed relaxed and flirtatious with me in the morning, but he'd tense up without warning. I couldn't read his face in the car. It was worse when Kelsey came over. The photo definitely aroused his interest, but he seemed impervious to her flirting. He wasn't a shy person, so why was he so aloof and standoffish around Kelsey? She wasn't bad looking. Sure, she could be a little rough around the edges, but did the average guy really care? She was a sure thing. Any guy would have jumped at the chance. Right? I was overthinking everything. Too much analysis. Too many thoughts. I needed to calm myself or else I would go crazy. By the time Matt called up to tell me the pizza had arrived, I was in an emotional frenzy. I quickly stripped, letting the weariness of the day fall off me with what I was wearing. Off with even the bra and panties. I stood in front of the mirror of my room and examined my body, nude, head to toe. I was attractive. I was not the world's most self confident person, but who is at eighteen years of age? Kelsey, maybe. But nonetheless, I could recognize that my body was in good shape, curved in the right places, even if my tits were a little oversized. There was no reason why Matt shouldn't find me attractive. Other than biology. Being his sister. That's what would kill the boner, every time, I thought. I pulled on a tank top and some shorts, and hustled downstairs to eat. ******** My breath caught in my throat as I stood at the entrance to the dining room. Matt had his back to me, and he was lighting unused candles. Two places had been set, very formally. Was that a flower from our garden in a vase? Nice touch. It was amazing. Romantic. I wanted to throw my arms around him and hug him, but I also wanted to sock him. I didn't look forward to sitting across from him in this setting. I was already on edge. Suddenly, I was a different person. Maybe it was the setting emboldening me, but I had a compulsion to flirt. Flirt hard. "Very nice big bro! If only I could score a date with a guy who would do this!" "It's just pizza," he mumbled out. Then he smirked, and began to uncork a bottle of wine. Oh good, a little liquid courage. "So? This is the way you get into a girl's pants?" Did I just wink again? I was going to keep going, wasn't I? "Are you practicing on me?" Matt mumbled and stuttered. He was flustered, and I felt even more empowered than I had a moment ago. My big brother was actually reacting to my flirtation. I never thought I'd see the day. He slipped quickly behind me and pulled out my chair, and a moment later sprang to the other side of the table to his own seat. We ate and drank and made small talk. The entire time, Matt was squirming in his chair. I was a different person. I'd flip my hair, rub my hand over my collarbone, knead my own shoulder and neck while arching my head to one side. I ate a slice of pizza like a porn star, letting the cheese drip down the side of my mouth, and seductively scooping it up with a finger, which I placed into my mouth. I'd suck on my finger. It was as though my body had been taken over by an alien from the planet Porn. If you had polled my senior class about the person least likely to behave this way, I would have won, hands down. Matt was visibly uncomfortable, but he wouldn't take his eyes off me. "What do you think Mom and Dad are doing right now?" Was he changing the subject, or was this an invitation for me to go further? After all, it was a romantic weekend for our parents. "Blow job, a little fingering, a little penetration...." I couldn't believe I just said that. Those were words that I'm fairly certain I had never said out loud to anyone. Much less to my own brother. "Gross, Shelly. Those are our parents you're talking about. We were the result of immaculate conception." He was beet red. I didn't stop. "Oh come on, Mathy. You think they don't do it? They probably do it all of the time. Good for them. At least someone in this house is getting some." "You're not getting some?" "Me? No. Not some. Not any." Did he not realize this? Didn't he know I was a virgin? I wanted to tell him that I broke my own hymen with a vibrator on purpose to get it over with, but somehow that didn't seem like the right thing to say at the moment. "Why not?" He pushed further. I could tell he was interested in my answer, but horrified that he was even asking. He seemed disgusted at his own question. "I don't know. Just no one interested in me." This wasn't entirely true. I had received plenty of offers. I just wasn't the dating type. "Bullshit." So he knew. I decided I might as well come clean with him, "OK, let me qualify that: there is no one interested in fucking me that I'd also let fuck me." Did I just use some version of the word "fuck" twice in a sentence? And not as an expletive because I banged my shin into the coffee table, but to describe the actual act of fucking? Who was I? "Fair enough," he said, putting an end to the conversation. Was that it? He was satisfied with the answer? He looked down at his plate. I had gone too far. I kept watching him, and now he was aware of my eyes on him. He began to squirm even more. I gave him a reprieve and finished my food in silence. He had finished eating a few minutes before me, but he just sat there. I wasn't sure if he wanted to talk some more, so I decided to give him a few minutes to compose himself. Immediately, I felt guilty for all of the teasing and the sexual innuendo. We were as close as two human beings could possibly be, but sex was one of those subjects we had only ever approached jokingly. I didn't expect him to be so uncomfortable when I pushed things. I decided to walk away and give him some space. I offered to pick up the dishes and take them to the kitchen. I was in the kitchen rinsing the plates and loading the dishwasher, when I heard him bound up the stairs. I finished what I was doing within a minute, and decided to follow him up there. I wasn't sure what I was going to say, or if I was going to apologize for my behavior, but I felt like we had left things half done and half said. I made it to the door of his room a minute or two behind him. Even though for the past few years we'd gotten into the habit of knocking before going into eachother's rooms, I didn't see any harm in opening the door since it had only been a minute or two since we were both downstairs; what were the odds that I'd walk in on something? I walked in on something. Matt was jerking off. He wasn't just jerking off, but he was providing me with the show that I missed the night before: he was coming. I stood just a few feet away from him and watched in wonder as his cock, which was pulsing under his fast-moving fist, was shooting out creamy, white strands of cum. "Guhhhh," came out of the deepest part of his throat, and suddenly, he looked up and saw me. He kept cumming, and I swear I saw a huge spurt fly out a moment after we locked eyes. Suddenly, he jumped up out of his computer chair and used both hands to try and cover his spurting dick. In his forward motion, he ended up cumming on the floor, right in front of my feet. I stood there, slack-jawed, watching him cum. "Shit! Shit Michelle, I'm sorry! Don't you knock! Why didn't you knock? Shit!" I was scared. His words shook me out of my trance, and my eyes finally moved from his cock up to his face. Was this the cause of all his recent anguish? Sexual frustration? "Sorry! I'm sorry!" I was genuinely sorry. Not that I'd seen it. It was the most glorious thing I'd ever seen in my life. I was sorry he was so upset. I swallowed hard and looked around, not sure what to do next. What I saw on the computer took my breath away. It was the beach photo from my Facebook page. He had run to his room and was masturbating, probably to Kelsey in a bikini. The knife I felt pierce through my heart unfortunately did nothing to kill my libido, because as upset as I felt about that fact, I was still amazingly turned on. My pussy wanted to overrule my brain. "Sorry," I whispered, "I'll let you clean up." I knew I looked like I was about to cry, and I knew that Matt would know that look from a mile away. I charged out of his room and into mine. I ran to my room, and before I knew what else to do, I threw myself onto my bed and pushed my hand down the front of my shorts, pressing hard and letting myself experience an orgasm. I was upset, but the sight of my brother spewing cum right in front of me was setting my body on fire. I would deal with the pain of knowing my brother was aroused by another girl later. Right now, I had to put out a fire. I began to shake through an orgasm that seemed to go on and on. Again, without any direct stimulation of my clit or penetration, I was cumming. Just as the orgasm began to ebb, I felt the bed shift behind me. Matt was sitting on my bed, and I had my hand down my shorts while shaking with an orgasm. He must be so angry, to come in here and sit on my bed as I do this, I thought. I figured after what I walked in on, he would have closed the door to his room and not shown his face to me for the entire weekend. "Is this because you're mad?" It came out of my mouth like a sob. "Are you mad that I walked in on you?" Was this his way of getting back at me? Walking in on me? "No, it was an accident." He was sincere. He genuinely did not mean to intrude on this moment. "Why are you here?" I was still facing away from him. I didn't want him to see me cry, in case I started to cry. He was such a sensitive soul, and what had just happened between us could scar him for life, I thought. It could damage our relationship, and our relationship was always so sacred to him. "I wanted to tell you I was sorry," he stated. He was contrite. It only made me feel worse that he felt he had to apologize. Nothing that had happened tonight was his fault. I sat up to face him, and folded my hands in my lap. I saw him glance down. I suddenly flushed realizing he'd see the stickiness on my hands, and smell my arousal. He didn't take his eyes off my hands. Did he like to look, or did he feel compelled to look because it was so strange? It reminded me of his erection from earlier in the day. Was he turned on, or was it just an involuntary reaction? "Do you want me to call Kelsey for you? She'll go out with you," I offered. Kelsey liked him, and obviously he was interested in sex. "Wait, what?" He was confused now, "You think because I masturbate that I need a date or something?" "No!" I did not want to offend him. He seemed so vulnerable. "It's just that you were looking at the beach photo, and I saw her flirting with you earlier, so I just figured-" "No, Michelle, I'm not interested in her." "Oh. One of the other girls in the picture? Jessica?" "No, not Jessica." "Was it just one of those 'girls in bikinis' things?" I was fishing. It's not about me, it's not about me, it's not about me. My mantra went through my head. I wanted him to say it, but I knew he never would. He was not masturbating to a picture of his own sister. He took a breath, and sighed deeply. "It was you. You make my dick hard." I audibly gasped. I made his dick hard? "Is it hard right now? Guys have a refractory period, right? So it probably won't be hard for a while now that you've cum?" Wow, that was nerdy. Did I just say that? He sighed again. "It's hard again. It's almost always hard when you're around. I'm sorry." I could have done a cartwheel at that moment. My anguish, my lust, my desire...I was not alone in any of it. I made his dick hard. It was like the clouds had parted in the sky, opening the heavens to me. I knew I had to see more, to experience more of him. I looked down at his lap, reached my hand, and moved his arm away. "Can I see it?" We had crossed some line. But I knew if we were going to go further, I would have to be the one to initiate. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. He moved both hands out of his lap, but stopped from doing anything else. His eyebrows knitted as though he was trying to figure out what I was asking. I realized it may have come out sounding clinical. That wasn't my intention. I pulled his waistband away from his body with my left hand, and with my right, I reached in and gently touched his cock. It was rock hard and twitched the moment my hand made contact with it. I firmed my grip a little, and Matt threw his head back and groaned. He started biting his lip. As I studied his face, I leaned in closer so I could see more of him. More of his face, his body, his cock. I lowered his waistband down, and then began to play with his dick. It was the first time I had been this close to one, and the first minute or two was just exploration. I was fascinated. I loved the feel of it, how it was simultaneously hard and soft. I loved the smooth skin, the ridges, the veins. I didn't have a means of comparison, other than some pics and video I had seen on the Internet of other men. "It seems big." "It's just...average," he was stammering. The effect I was having on him was intoxicating. I wanted to do more. "Please stop. Please," he pleaded unconvincingly. "That doesn't feel good?" I asked, in a throaty whisper. I hardly recognized my own voice. "No, it feels really good. Too good. You're going -- uhhhh -- to make me cum... if you keep doing that." His words were fueling the fire in my own body. The very notion that I could possibly make him cum was taking me to another level of aroused. It felt like a floodgate had opened deep within my core, and poured arousal fluid into my shorts. "Isn't that a good thing?" I slowed down my strokes, wanting to savor the moment, and pressed my forehead against his. I leaned my body toward him, and he leaned back, placing his hands on my hips. I wondered if he was freaked out. I had so many months, years even, to think about sex with him, even though I never expected it would be realized. As far as I knew, this was all new to him. "Mathy, does this make you feel guilty?" "Yes," he stuttered out. This answer didn't surprise me, but it also didn't convince me that I should stop. "Do you want me to stop?" "No." This he said firmly, confidently. There was no turning back for him. He opened his eyes and stared into mine. The look in his eyes was so lustful, I felt a zap of electricity surge to my crotch. "Uhhhhhhhh," I couldn't hold back my moan any longer. "I'm so horny. I want you to touch me so badly." We had gone this far. I had nothing to lose so I simply asked. "I'm your brother?" Was he asking me this as a question? It almost made me laugh. I know I must have smiled a little. "I won't tell," I vowed. I knew he just needed more encouragement. "Please, just touch me a little right now, and you won't ever have to do it again, and I won't tell anyone." "Shelly...." His eyes closed again, and he threw his head back. Now his hips were moving a little, thrusting his dick into my closed fist a little more quickly than I was stroking. "Please!" I couldn't wait any more. I needed to feel him touch me. "If I do this and touch you, I'm not going to want to stop. I'll never stop." His words knocked the air out of my body. He wanted me back? I pushed my whole body forward toward him and let go of his cock. I initiated our first kiss. I simply placed my lips, a little parted, up against his. I only needed to wait a couple of seconds before he was pressing back, moving his lips and slanting his face against mine. His hands started on my shoulders, then moved to the bottom of my tank top. Slowly, he pulled my top up over my breasts, and began to rub different parts of my torso, all the while avoiding my actual breasts. My nipples were stiff and dying for his hands. I moaned into his mouth and he moaned back, as I pressed my hardened nipples against his beautiful sculpted chest. His hands pushed me an inch or two away, and found my breasts. The touch of his palms finally making contact with nipples sent sparks up and down my body, and I pressed my tongue quickly into his mouth. I loved the taste of him. We were now kissing so passionately, I thought I was going to explode. My senses were so overloaded, I couldn't see or hear anything. He pulled out of the kiss, and positioned my body next to him on the bed. He hovered over me, studying my body carefully. I pulled my tank top, which was resting over my breasts, completely off my body. I removed his shorts and mine, and we just drank each other in. We spent the next ten minutes feeling and observing. I memorized every inch of him, because I believed I might never get another opportunity like this. He was so tender. His movements a few minutes ago were awkward, hurried. Now he was slow, deliberate. He kissed my shoulder, then he kissed the other. I took his hand and kissed both sides of it. I had spent the past half hour in a state of constant arousal. I knew I needed release, and he must also need it judging by how stiff his cock was. I placed one hand between my own legs, and with the other, I reached over and gripped his manhood. I began to stroke him while circling my own clit with my middle finger. He moved my hand away from my pussy and replaced it with his own. He slowly slid a finger up and down my slit, teasing first my outer lips and then my inner lips. I was so glad I was clean shaven. His fingers felt incredible. He was applying just the right amount of pressure. I wanted to say something, but couldn't find my voice. As he slid two fingers into me, I began to pant and stroked him faster. Matt and Michelle Ch. 02 "Shelly. Shelly, if you keep doing that, it's going to make me cum. Shelly. Slow down." I didn't want to stop. I didn't know what to do, but before I had a chance to to anything, Matt sped up his fingers going in and out of my soaked pussy, and turned his hand so his thumb was pressing right on my clit. "Oh god! Oh god Matt!" The shuddering orgasm Matt interrupted when he first came in my room was good, but this one was mind-blowing. "God, Michelle. You're so beautiful! You're so beautiful when you cum!" I'm fairly sure I screamed, but I can't be certain. I didn't even feel like I was in my own body. It took me a minute to compose myself and come down from my high. I reached for his cock again, and immediately began to rub and stroke. He was right on the edge. I felt his cock swell in my hands. "Watch out --- watch out Michelle --- I'm going to --- oh gg-g-od -- I'm cumming!" I had seen it earlier in the night, but now that I was causing it, I wanted to get right up to it. I bent myself at the knees and leaned down, right down next to the middle of his body. He turned his body toward me and began to spew. He screamed out, and even though he had cum earlier, he unloaded a huge amount of creamy hot semen all over me. Spurt after spurt landed on me. It was on my face, in my hair, on my chest. I opened my mouth and while it seemed to make it all over my face, none of it splashed directly into my mouth. Once he stopped spurting, I began to scoop some of it with my fingers, and tasted it. There were a few drops on my tits that I rubbed in. It began to get cold and sticky hard within seconds. The taste lingered in my mouth. "Does it always taste like that?" I pulled my body back up to his. His expression was one of pure joy, and he still had lust in his eyes. He lay very still, and I began to wonder whether he regretted what we had just done. I rested my head on his shoulder. He pulled my body closer to his. Finally, he broke the silence. "Wait, can we get under the covers?" I nodded, and we moved our bodies so we were snug against each other, our limbs wrapped around eachother's. The covers came up to our waists. "Mathy, will you stay the night? Or at least a little while?" "If you want me." "I want you." "I mean if you want me to stay here." "I do. And I want you." There it was. "If I stay, I may not be able to stop. It might not stop, Shelly. I might do something to you that you don't want." I didn't know if I wanted to do this to him. I didn't know if it was fair. If it was right. Should I push this? Was this really what he wanted, or was his body overriding his mind? "I want you to do what you want. I want you to do everything." He pulled the covers up over our shoulders and moved closer to me. "I love you Shelly." It was done. This was it. He loved me, and nothing else in the entire world mattered. "I love you big brother." Tomorrow, I'd deal with guilt. With regrets. With our future. Tonight we had love. Matt and Michelle Ch. 03 My head was swimming with so many scattered thoughts. Here we were, my sister and I, naked, and in her bed. It only took us a few minutes to get to this point, but in some ways, it was many years coming. Her warm, soft body felt so good pressed up against me. I was in a state of complete relaxation, and also perpetual arousal. I'd never experienced such a thing. While it was amazing, I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to get to sleep. It was so stimulating. It felt like every cell in my body was vibrating. After a few minutes, Michelle's breathing began to get even and slow. I knew she had drifted off to sleep. My own lids began to feel heavy, and it couldn't have been another five minutes before I was out cold. The last thing I remember was tightening my grip on her body. A few hours later, I woke up feeling parched. I don't know whether it was the two explosive orgasms, or the especially salty pizza, but I felt like I could drink a gallon of water. My dick was semi-hard. I decided to ignore it for the moment. "Shelly. Baby." I nudged her a bit to see if I could wake her. I didn't want to startle her by leaving her bed. I was worried that she might not be happy if she woke up to an empty bed; I know I'd be pissed off if it were me. "Yeah?" She was groggy, and I'm not sure she was entirely awake when she answered. "I'm really thirsty so I'm going to go downstairs and get some water. Do you want anything?" "Um, yeah. I guess water too." She sat up and began to look around her darkened room. "Have you been sleeping too?" "Yeah, I've been sleeping too," I whispered. "I've been sleeping really well. I guess I just woke up thirsty." I slowly pulled myself out of the warmth and comfort of the bed and headed downstairs for our waters. When I came back up, Michelle was in the bathroom. She was sitting on the toilet peeing, and brushing her teeth at the same time. I left her water glass on the edge of the sink. "Pizza breath," she mumbled through a mouth full of foam. We were both fully naked, but I suddenly felt like I should be modest. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist. I began to prepare my toothbrush and brush my teeth, when I heard the toilet flush behind me. A second later, I felt a tug, and off came my towel. I looked over at my sister, who was standing a foot away from me, smirking. My half-hard dick was at full staff, and pointing straight out and up. It was one thing to see each other naked in our darkened bedrooms, but here, in the bright harsh lights of the bathroom, everything seemed so very intense. I finished brushing, spit out the toothpaste, and rinsed out my mouth. Michelle stood behind me, and moved to press her body against the back of mine. I could feel her firm nipples pushing into my back. She reached around to my front and began to fondle my cock. Her grip wasn't as firm or assured as it was earlier. This was more exploration, but very gentle. She was handling me like I was fragile and delicate. She reached with her other hand, and after holding my dick against my stomach, started her exploration on my balls. It felt great and I didn't want her to stop, but her body was slumping hard against my back, and I knew she was tired. "Do you want to go back to bed?" I asked, looking at our reflections in the mirror. "Ok. Do you want me to take care of this first? Or just do it there?" I smiled. It was so strange that the girl I'd been lusting after for so long was here, wanting to attend to my needs. "I think I can wait a bit. Maybe after we get some sleep." "OK, but I don't want to leave you with blue balls or whatever." "Come here and kiss me." I turned my body around and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her into my embrace. She hesitantly leaned forward, and pressed my mouth onto hers. I kissed her lips fervently, and slid my tongue roughly across her mouth. She moaned and parted her lips, and we stood there in the bathroom, tongues dancing, for several minutes. Eventually, she pulled back. "Come on bro, let's hit the sheets." We went back to her room and crawled under the sheets. I glanced at the alarm clock by her bed. It was now 3:13 a.m. We shifted around a few times, giving each other little pecks and kisses. Eventually we both drifted off, me on my back, her with her leg draped over mine, her torso half on top of mine. I recall being half awake once or twice, drifting in and out of sleep, humping against her, rubbing my perpetually hard cock against her thigh, into the crack of her ass, and at one point a half inch into her slit. But mostly, we slept. Light was dribbling into the room through the shades. This feeling of incredible warmth came over me, then I shuddered, and felt as though I had been immersed in something that had a mild electrical current continually running through my body. The feeling is hard to describe, but it was amazing. I turned my head from side to side and didn't see Michelle, only the alarm clock which read 6:12 a.m. The feeling of immersion was still there, and the bed rocked a bit. I glanced down and realized the sheets were off of us, and Michelle's head was bobbing up and down over my crotch. She had my steel hard dick in her mouth, and she was rolling her tongue around the head. "Ohhhhhhhhh fuck that feels incredible. Oh god you do that well. Your mouth is so good." I was not expecting a good morning blow job. I was experiencing the fantastic sensation of waking up with my dick in someone's mouth. She glanced up at me, never taking her mouth off my cock, and smiled. She went back to work, each time swallowing a little more. At one point, she started gentle sucking, which turned into more aggressive sucking. "UHH. UH. Oh god. I love it when you suck me like that." She eased off a bit, then she did something I will never forget. She gripped the base of my member firmly with her hand, and gently eased her mouth over me, going a few centimeters deeper each second, until I was down her throat. She deep throated me. She did a good job relaxing her gag reflex, but eventually it did kick in, and her throat pulsed around my dick. It was a mind-blowing feeling. "Michelle. Michelle. I'm going to cum. I'm going to cum." I wanted to warn her, so she didn't end up with a mouth full of spunk against her will. She backed off and eased my dick out of her throat, but then she took me by surprise by going to town on me. She grabbed my hips, and basically face fucked herself on my cock. She moved up and down on it fast and hard, and within a matter of seconds, I blew a load. "UHHHHH oh god! SHIT! AHHHHHH I'm cumming so hard!" I grabbed the sides of her head, but she wasn't pulling off or doing anything, so my hands didn't really need to be there. The first spurt felt like it was the biggest, and she did a closed-mouth sputtering cough when it hit the back of her throat. She pulled her mouth forward and sealed her lips around the mushroom head of my dick, and the rest of my cum landed squarely in her mouth, on her tongue and teeth. When I was finally done pouring into her mouth, my dick was so sensitive. "Uhh, be careful. Guh," I grunted, as she gave the head of my cock one final quick suck, lifting off her head. She kept her mouth closed and sat up. She was swirling my goo around in her mouth for a few seconds before she finally decided she would swallow. "That tastes so good. I think it tastes even better than last night's. Does that make sense?" I was dazed, but I figured after what she had done, I at least owed her the courtesy of an answer. "Yeah, I guess the taste can change depending on what you eat, or something." I closed my eyes and threw my arm over my face. "Michelle?" "Yeah?" She was now once again laying down next to me. "That was the single most satisfying sexual experience of my life." There were a few minutes of silence, and when she spoke again, I could hear a smile in her voice. "I'm glad you liked it." She cuddled up against me and when she did, she began to grind her hips against my side. I immediately became aware of how selfish I was being. Even though the orgasm was mind-numbing, I still felt energized enough that I knew I should take care of her. "Roll onto your back." She did as I commanded without hesitation or comment. I moved my body over hers, and I kissed her. I could detect a faint smell of semen on her breath. I kissed her chin, then her neck, then her collarbone. I brushed my lips over each of her shoulder, then to her sternum. I kissed around each of her nipples, careful not to make contact with either. She was squirming and trying to land a nipple into my mouth, but I teased her and dodged each pointy nub. I continued kissing down her body, nuzzling my nose into the underside of each of her glorious tits, kissing her ribcage on both sides, kissing her beautiful stomach. I swirled my tongue for a moment in her navel, and she squirmed again with delight. I kissed lower, until I was at the edge of her pussy. Her beautiful crack was so soft and unspoiled. She must have waxed, because there was no hint of hair or stubble. I hardened my tongue and pushed a firm line down her slit. She writhed, nearly bucking me off. I settled down between her legs, and pushed her knees up so that she was spread wide open to me. I loved how confident she was. How uninhibited, and not bashful. I glanced up, and she had propped her head on a pillow so she could see what I was doing. I used both thumbs to spread her lips. She was already soaking wet, dripping down to her ass crack, onto the bed. Her creamy goodness was so sweet and earthy. It smelled like paradise to me. I wanted to lick up every drop. I wasn't very experienced at this, and had no real technique, so my first thought was that maybe I should just dive in nose first and devour every inch of her. What was the technique in porn? What had previous girlfriends liked? Some better part of my brain kicked into gear, and I knew that she'd have a much more satisfying orgasm if I eased and teased her into it. Using the broad, flat part of my tongue, I gave one serious lick to her inner and outer lips, in one long, continuous motion. She moaned, and voiced her pleasure. I continued with the bigger, broader strokes. She had what she later told me were mini orgasms, little earthquakes where her pussy would throb and pulse. It wasn't until a few minutes of that kind of licking that I began to hone in on her clit. With one finger now buried in her pussy, I shifted my mouth up to her clit. Pulling the hood back gently with my other hand, I spotted her beautiful pearl, and sucked it into my mouth. "OH MATT. MATHY!!" I could tell it wouldn't take much, and that she was going to cum, and cum hard. I flicked her clit in my mouth, and she unraveled. "AHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGG!" Her cries got choked in her throat, and she started convulsing from her orgasm. I pressed my chest against her legs to try and keep her from moving too much, but she was wild. After a few minutes, her body began to calm, I settled in next to her, and she giggled as she looked at my girl-juice-smeared face. I smiled and rubbed my mouth and cheeks against her shoulder, rubbing off some of her juices onto her body. Even though I had just buried my face between her legs, I wanted to do it again, right now. When I told her, she laughed, and she talked me out of it. "Mathy! No, it's so freaking early. Let's just go back to sleep for a little while." She was glowing. She was more beautiful than I had ever seen her, and that's saying something, because she was the most beautiful girl I had ever known in my life. I pulled her close against me again, and we again drifted off to sleep. The last thought I had was about how glorious the rest of our weekend would be, and how difficult things would get when our parents returned from vacation. Matt and Michelle We ate mostly in silence, just occasionally making small talk. The wine was making me feel warm. At least, I think it was the wine. "What do you think Mom and Dad are doing right now?" I wondered out loud. "Blow job, a little fingering, a little penetration...." I couldn't believe she just said that. My sister was never this bawdy. I turned ten different shades of red. "Gross, Shelly. Those are our parents you're talking about. We were the result of immaculate conception." "Oh come on, Mathy. You think they don't do it? They probably do it all of the time. Good for them. At least someone in this house is getting some." "You're not getting some?" "Me? No. Not some. Not any." "Why not?" "I don't know. Just no one interested in me." "Bullshit." "OK, let me qualify that: there is no one interested in fucking me that I'd also let fuck me." "Fair enough." I really wanted to change the subject. Just hearing her say the last sentence made me want to blow a load in my pants, without even touching myself. I looked up and she was studying me. I shifted a little uncomfortably, and she glanced back down at her plate, smiling just a little. I think she knew I was uncomfortable, and she liked it. My sister wasn't sadistic, what was that all about? When we were finally done eating, she offered to clean up since I set up dinner. She took our plates and went to the kitchen, and I took the opportunity to run upstairs out of her site, my raging hard-on leading the way. When I made it up to my room, I closed the door and ripped off my shirt and dropped my pants right away. This time, I knew I could blow a good load. I knew it was wrong, but my body was again overriding my brain; I dropped myself into my computer chair, browsed to my sister's Facebook page, and pulled up one of those shots of her on the beach. She was posed with four of her friends. She was standing on the end, and while the rest of the girls had big smiles, she was looking at the camera with a smoldering intensity. "Uhnnnnn," I groaned, as soon as the page loaded. I was pumping pretty hard by now, and slowed down because for the first time in a while, it felt really good. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I pushed back from the desk a little and stretched my legs out. I was now stroking a little slower and would periodically open my eyes to glance at the photo. Each time I did, it brought me closer to the edge. Finally, I decided to let myself cum. I was now staring so hard at the computer, I didn't notice my bedroom door open. My dick started to spew a thick, creamy rope of semen. I was so caught up I didn't even have something on hand to catch it, which is something I almost always did. "Guhhhh," I moaned and out of the corner of my eye I saw her. Michelle was standing just two feet away from me, a step in past the doorway, and her eyes were on my spouting cock. Her eyes on me made me feel like I was going to come even harder. I felt like I was going to black out from sheer pleasure. It took me a second before I realized, "This isn't right." I gasped and stumbled out of the chair, trying to cover my spewing cock. There was no covering it though, and no stopping it. Two more thick ribbons of cum shot out, over my and and onto the carpet in front of her feet. I turned my body and lurched for my bed, grabbing for my shorts. "Shit! Shit Michelle, I'm sorry! Don't you knock! Why didn't you knock? Shit!" She stood, frozen, and for the first time since walking in on me, her eyes moved up to my face. "Sorry! I'm sorry!" She stood wide-eyed while she made her apology. Then she did what I hoped she wouldn't do: she looked over to my computer monitor. There it was, taking up practically the full screen. The beach photo. For a second, she looked like her knees wobbled, but she braced herself on the door frame. "Sorry," this time more quiet, "I'll let you clean up." She ran out of my room and down the hall toward her own room. I was mortified. I was mortified that she saw me, and mortified that I was so completely aroused, and that I'd cum so hard. I grabbed my towel from my shower earlier and wiped myself down quickly, then pulled on my shorts. I hurried down the hall to her room to apologize and think up some kind of excuse. When I got to her doorway, I stopped cold. She was on her bed, on her side, facing away from the door. Oh god, she's sobbing, I thought. I made her cry. I saw her back shudder, and I ran in to put my hand on her shoulder and comfort her. It wasn't until I got close enough to touch her that I saw that she wasn't crying. Both of her hands were between her legs, and one hand was in her panties. She was rubbing herself. Rubbing hard. She was in the throes of an orgasm. Before I could stop myself, I lowered myself to sitting right behind her, and placed my hand on her back. I could feel the bed rock from how her hand was moving. She let out a very load moan, and pressed both hands firmly against her mound. I was hard again. A little grunt escaped my throat. Her eyes opened and she leaned back, looking up at me. "Is this because you're mad?" Her voice was very quiet. "Are you mad that I walked in on you?" "No, it was an accident." "Why are you here?" "I wanted to tell you I was sorry." She shifted her body to a sitting position, and now we were facing each other. She had her hands placed delicately in her lap, and I could see the glimmering from her juices on her fingers. I wanted so badly to touch her fingers, to feel the moisture, but I resisted. "Do you want me to call Kelsey for you? She'll go out with you," she offered. "Wait, what?" I was utterly confused. "You think because I masturbate that I need a date or something?" "No," she said, equally confused. "It's just that you were looking at the beach photo, and I saw her flirting with you earlier, so I just figured-" "No, Michelle, I'm not interested in her." "Oh. One of the other girls in the picture? Jessica?" "No, not Jessica." "Was it just one of those 'girls in bikinis' things?" She was fishing. I had a decision to make. I wasn't sure why, but I decided I wanted to be truthful with her. "It was you. You make my dick hard." That last part was barely audible. She gasped. I couldn't believe I was so bold. I also couldn't believe how bold she was about to get. "Is it hard right now? Guys have a refractory period, right? So it probably won't be hard for a while now that you've cum?" I sighed. "It's hard again. It's almost always hard when you're around. I'm sorry." She looked at my lap. She reached over and gently moved my arm away. I could feel her fingers, which were now a little sticky. "Can I see it?" My eyes got wide. Was she asking me to take it out of my shorts? She had already gotten a pretty good look in my room. That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn't put two and two together. The site of me cumming made her run to her room to touch herself. Again, my dick lurched in my shorts. She reached with her other hand and held on to my waistband. As she pulled the waistband away, she reached in with her hand and grabbed onto my dick. Her hands were so soft, even if a little sticky. I groaned and bit my lip. She bit her lip too, and leaned herself closer. My dick was so hard it was up against my stomach. She pulled it away a bit, and lowered my waistband even more. She loosened and tightened her grip a couple of times, weighing my dick, pulling it, feeling its ridges and veins. She slid her thumbs up and down it. "It seems big," she offered. "It's just...average," I was having a hard time forming complete sentences. She began to stroke it more decisively, and I grabbed on to her wrists. "Please stop. Please." "That doesn't feel good?" It came out in a whisper. "No, it feels really good. Too good. You're going -- uhhhh -- to make me cum... if you keep doing that." I stuttered the entire time. "Isn't that a good thing? She was gasping and breathy. She slowed her strokes, but leaned her head forward toward mine until our foreheads were touching. We both closed our eyes. I moved my hands to her waist. "Mathy, does this make you feel guilty?" "Yes." "Do you want me to stop?" "No." "Uhhhhhhhh," it was her turn to moan. I couldn't believe this was turning her on. "I'm so horny," she admitted. "I want you to touch me so badly." "I'm your brother," this came out more as a question than a statement of fact. It was as though I was trying to explain why I wouldn't, but I knew my resolve wasn't going to be very strong. "I won't tell," she promised. "Please, just touch me a little right now, and you won't ever have to do it again, and I won't tell anyone," her stroking was now a little more quick and firm. "Shelly...." I was lost. If I hadn't cum just a few minutes before, her strokes would have had me bursting by now. It felt too good. "Please?" she panted. I couldn't refuse her. I could never refuse her. "If I do this and touch you, I'm not going to want to stop. I'll never stop." She whimpered and took her hand off my cock, pressing her entire body forward onto me. Her lips met mine, and at first her kiss was soft and gentle, but still a little insistent. Her hands were up by my face. I pulled her tank top up over her breasts, and moved both hands up from her stomach, palms down. I pressed into the area just below her breasts, then gripped around her ribs. She moaned, and we kissed harder. I slid my tongue forward and brushed it across her lower lip. The taste of her mouth made me dizzy. Slowly, she slid her tongue forward, and the tips of our tongues met. Within a minute, I was kneading her firm, full breasts, and our tongues were pressing into eachother's mouths. Her nipples were like firm pebbles underneath my hands. I moved my palms over them, feeling them react. I pulled her body off mine, and placed her carefully next to me on the bed. I wanted to see her, see all of her. As my eyes were drinking her in, she pulled my shorts off entirely, then undressed herself. We lay like that, side by side, glancing our hands softly over eachother's bodies. I couldn't remember any moment of my life that was more perfect than this one. Her skin was so soft, and certain parts of her would raise up into goosebumps as my fingers trailed over them. I leaned in and kissed her shoulder. She took my hand, and kissed it. After what was probably only ten or fifteen minutes of this, but felt like hours, she arched her back and reached over with one hand, gripping my cock. She put her other hand between her legs. We moaned at the same time. She began to stroke me slowly, and press into her own pussy. I moved her hand away with one of mine, and slid two fingers up and down her slit. She was soaked. I wanted so badly to taste her, but it felt like everything we were doing was so slow, so careful, I didn't want to spoil it. I very carefully slid in a finger. "Mmmmmm," her voice was barely there. "Shelly. Shelly, if you keep doing that, it's going to make me cum." Her hand was not moving more quickly on my cock, and I in turn sped up moving my finger in and out of her now dripping pussy. "Shelly. Slow down." I knew what was inevitable, and I didn't know what to do. Even though I already came not long before, I was close once again. Would I let her do it? Would I let her take me over the edge? The thought of her coming in contact with my cum sent a shock through my body, and that was enough to do it. As I felt the cum quickly bubbling up in my balls, I pressed my thumb over her clit, and began to flick furiously. Her body was so responsive, she immediately shuddered, and her pussy clenched around my two inserted fingers. I tried to focus on her body, her tight pussy gripping around my fingers, her hardened clit under my thumb, foolishly hoping it would delay my own orgasm. As my hand sent her spiraling into a powerful, body-convulsing orgasm for her, I uttered, "God, Michelle. You're so beautiful! You're so beautiful when you cum!" Her breathing was uneven and she moved one hand up to her head to clear her hair out of her face. In the passion of her climax, he had stopped stroking my cock. She started up again. "Watch out --- watch out Michelle --- I'm going to --- oh gg-g-od -- I'm cumming!" She ignored my warning, scooting her body down the bed so her entire upper body was hovering over my purple, pulsing cock. She squeezed the tip and I groaned. Then, she started pumping her hand up and down faster and faster, until I couldn't contain it anymore. I hollered, and despite the copious amount of cum that had expelled from my body in my room, I came again, and hard. Stream after stream of milky white cum shot out of me with more force than I have ever felt. The first spurt landed over her hand, just above where she gripped me. A second arced up and landed on the left side of Michelle's chin, slowly dripping onto her chest. Another hit on her face, just above her upper lip and under her nose. The last two landed squarely over her glorious tits. I closed my eyes for just a moment as I felt the room spin. I opened them, and saw her lift her cum-covered hand to her face. She reached her tongue out to first lick the stray drop that had landed below her nose, then she placed the top of her hand against her open mouth and sucked in what was left on her hand. She glanced down to her chest, where the other drops had landed. Using her hand, she smeared the drops into her skin, while she closed her eyes and hummed appreciatively. "Does it always taste like that?" I didn't know what to say. I couldn't move an inch of my body. I was afraid she would come to her senses, and realize what we had done was wrong. She lowered her body next to mine, resting her head on my arm. I squeezed her in tighter. Her soft body molded perfectly to mine. "Wait," I said, "Can we get under the covers?" She glanced up at me with those big gorgeous eyes and nodded. There wasn't an ounce of regret on her face. We shifted our bodies momentarily so we could pull the covers down beneath our spent bodies. "Mathy, will you stay the night? Or at least a little while?" "If you want me." "I want you." "I mean if you want me to stay here." "I do. And I want you." "If I stay, I may not be able to stop. It might not stop, Shelly. I might do something to you that you don't want." "I want you to do what you want. I want you to do everything." I pulled the covers up over us and pulled her in close to me. "I love you Shelly." "I love you big brother." I didn't know what the rest of the weekend had in store for us. Or the rest of our lives. But that moment in the afterglow of what we had done was perfect.