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Why Can't We?

By: darlingguy2



Why can't we? I mean it's not like were hurting any one. To start our tale we must start at the beginning. My sister and I are in our mid twenties and college graduates. Donna is an accountant and I am an editor for our local town news paper. We have always been close and have often been at each others side when each others relationship went sour. Donna was one of those pretty American apple pie kinds of girls. She was sweet, honest and caring. Her figure was not one what you would call hot. The more I looked at her 5 foot 6 inch frame and 112 pound weight, the more I saw in her the perfect women, which any man would to marry and have children with. Her hips were curvy but not fat and her breasts were perky but not too small. Her dark hair shinned in the warm sun let and she had a wonderful bounce when she walked. I pretty much the same looks as my father's looks, but a little taller. At 6 feet 1 inch and about 175 pounds and dark hair, I got a lot of stares from women, but could not find that special one to settle down with. 

Donna and I saw each other often during the weekends. We both had dinner with our parents each Sunday and had to go through the regular interrogation by our parents if we had met anyone special yet. Our love for each other started during one of those dinners. We were both a little down. Neither one of us were having luck meeting the right person. I stared at her during dinner a little. Donna wore a pretty summer skirt which revealed her pretty legs and perky breast. I could not believe I was looking at my sister in such a way. She caught my eye and smiled a little. Her look was innocent and did not play it off as any thing serious. After dinner we looked at some of the old photo albums together. She sat in a chair while I looked over her to see one of the albums she was holding. Again I got a view of her figure. By looking down I got a glimpse of her sweet breast. I could not look away. They were so ripe and beautiful; the only thing I could think of was holding them and kissing them. Donna again caught my eye and just let it happen. She gently held my hand as to say darling its ok, my figure is yours to gaze upon. When said our good nights she gave me a special kiss on my check and asked me to have dinner with her on Tuesday. I told her I would love to and kissed her on her lips when our parent's backs were turned. It turned into a passionate kiss for the both of us. It made my cock fill with blood and point towards her womanhood. 

The whole night I could do nothing accept think about her and the love we could share together. It was so wrong. Our love would be incest, but no woman ever made me feel the way I feel about my sister. I desired to hear her sweet voice, to talk to each other as man and woman and not as sister and brother. Above all I wanted to touch her, to feel her warm sweet skin and be one with her. Monday passed by fast and all day Tuesday I thought about her. She gave me a call at work to remind me and I promised to pick up the wine. I began to think maybe I am taking this too far but as I drove to her apartment and knocked on her door it all became real. She opened her door and gave me a wonderful French kiss. Her tongue was sweet and wet and met mine with equal passion. I reached out my arms and held her tight. All of those feeling I wanted to share with the right woman I released with Donna. I did not feel alone. Those dirty thoughts of incest were gone from my mind. The love that my sister and I were going to feel from now on would be pure and special.

We sat at the table and talked all night. She told me she always loved me a special way. She saw the qualities in me that she could not find in other men. The when she told me that she saw in me as a loving husband, I kissed her hands and told her I would never leave her. Then she touched my face and told me there was something else she saw in me, the love of a darling father. I looked at her with delight and told her I felt the same. For a long time I saw and felt the same feelings for her, but now it was going to be real. She took my hand and led me into her bedroom. We knew our love making would be tender and loving. Donna removed her dress and underwear as I took off my suit and tie. We just looked at each other for a second before we held each other. My cock was at its peak in length when we held each other. My cock head touched the opening of her clit ever so gently as we kissed. I leaned down and licked her sweet pussy in way which only a loving husband could. Her warm hands touched the back of my head as a message for me to drive my tongue deeper into her womanhood. I licked her pussy faster and faster making her moan loader and loader until she cried out in passion. Donna orgasm was powerful and for filling. She was wet and ready for me to enter her. I stopped to suckle her breast. Each nipple was sweet and loving. In the back of my mind all I could think about was drinking the sweet milk from her breast like a child. 

I released my sister and she lay on her back on the bed and told me it was time to consummate our love for each other. My cock was hard and ready to fill Donna's pussy. I reached into my pant pocket on the floor to get a condom, but when Donna saw my movements she took my hand and told me she wanted me unprotected. I told her nothing would make me happier than being insider her with nothing standing in our way of our love for each other. My sister than spread her legs for me and told me she was fertile and ovulating. It was then that I finally got my wish. I was going to be husband to my sister and father to her children. I slide my cock into position and started to gently push deep into Donna's pussy. Donna was warm and wet. Each thrust brought me closer to the entrance to her womb. For what seemed liked hours my cock penetrated my sister's pussy, making her cum over and over. The wetness that flowed from her pussy was like a warm sea ready to take my sperm to her awaiting egg. Our love making was more that lust. As we became one, the emotional and physical feelings that we shared were becoming one. It is a wonderful feeling when a woman will show her love by allowing a man to make her pregnant. It is not just the physical passing of sperm from man to woman but the love between the two that allows the creation of life.

After fifteen minutes of making love, I was cumming close. My cock was full of sperm and was ready to for fill our love. With each thrust, Donna could see I was ready to fill her. She spoke to me a relatively warm tone of voice to cum deep within her and give her a child. That was all it took. I thrust my cock deep within her womb and began to splash my seed deep within my sister's womb. It was a naturally wonderful feeling. Each jet of my sperm filled Donna's womb, over taking her and mating her. As my cock continued to ejaculate its warm seed, all I could think about was making my loving sister pregnant. When my orgasm was over, we kissed deeply knowing our child was being created. My cock was still hard and deep inside my sister's pussy, keeping my seed from flowing out. 

After three weeks of non stop sex Donna was indeed pregnant. When she called me at work I was thrilled. Our parents were not so happy and did not speak to us for eight months. They called us shameless and we would go straight to hell. We kept our marriage a secret so we would not get involved with the law. The day our daughter was born, our parents felt that there was nothing that was going to erase the past. Samantha was born healthy and we gave her a loving home. Mom and dad accepted our love, but never felt completely happy with our relationship. Five years later we had another daughter, Ashley. Both girls would be excellent students in public school and college, as well as beautiful like their mom. As our twenty eighth anniversaries is approaching I have to ask again, is there some thing wrong with loving your sister?

Why Can't You Keep Out Of His Bed?



She would be coming over again, later that day, as they had previously arranged. Unfortunately, things in their relationship had become a little strained, of late.

He felt butterflies in his stomach. But they weren't the pleasant, anticipatory butterflies that one often felt when your lover was coming to visit.. These were iron butterflies, with hot, metallic claws, digging and gouging at his insides. Or so it seemed to him.

It was the same old thing, again. The same old, same old, as they put it. Why? Why on earth did he let her do these things to him? Why? What was he? Was he a man or was he a wimp?

Did she love him? Did she have any respect for him? Any respect for him whatsoever?

Could he eventually introduce her to his parents and his brother and his sister, like he had longed for since the early days of their relationship?

He had asked her, several times, but each time she had seemed horrified by the idea. She actually got quite angry the last time he had asked. So he had taken the decision to never ask her, again.

Was she ashamed of him in some way? If she was, why, for goodness sake? He'd never done anything to upset her, or to hurt her. Had he? He had asked her and she had said: "No, it's nothing like that, it's just that I..." she had never finished the sentence. He got the impression that she was, somehow, ashamed of him and of her relationship with him. If so, then that did not auger well for the future of them as a couple, did it? 

He sighed, deeply, to nobody in particular. He really could not quite understand her. He felt quite certain that he had not, to use an old expression, quite got the measure of her. And, he thought, morosely, perhaps he never would?

Although she had promised him that she would love him forever, he knew, in his heart of hearts, that this probably would never be a realistic option for them. But it would be nice if she could really just love him. To only love him, exclusively. Even if it was only just for the moment. Or for a series of moments, perhaps?

It was as if, he worried, as if... she was just toying with him. He wanted her and only her. Yet she... she somehow needed other people. Or at the very least, one other, specific, 'special' other person. 

Special? Damn that man! Damn him! Why would she not leave off contacting him or worse yet, being with him? Or even worse of all, having sex with him, that damnable other man?

He could not understand that at all! If she were truly, really in love with him, if she were in love with him as deeply and as strongly as he was in love with her, why could she not understand that? Why could she not forsake all others and, what did it say in the Bible about cleaving unto your woman or your man?

A shiver went through him. Maybe she was, after all, genetically prepositioned toward being unfaithful? Was that idea about an unfaith gene a load of hot air? Or was it possible? Were some people, biologically, unable to be faithful to that one special person?

But what if he was not her one, special person? What if ... he... that other one, the skeleton who always sat, uninvited, in the corner of every feast, both metaphorical and real, was her real, one true love?

What if she were, in reality, as he had thought, only using him and his love? Playing with his feelings? Toying with him? Stringing him along until something or someone better came her way?

Would she up trade him for another? For someone better looking? Sexier? Someone with more wealth than he possessed?

He was finding the whole thing starting to become more and more depressing. More soul destroying.

Eventually, it was her time to be here, to be with him. But as she sat in his comfortable living room, sipping her drink, he noticed that she seemed somehow distant, preoccupied.

He looked at her. He felt betrayed, again. How could she do this to him? Hadn't he expressed his undying, never ending love for her? Then why could she not accept that as being the case?

He spoke. His words were angry and perhaps harsher than he had intended: "You were with him again today, weren't you? Did you and he fuck, again?"

She bowed her head in shame, her cheeks glowing a crimson red colour, but she said nothing.

"Nothing to say?" His voice was becoming edgier and becoming more unpleasant. 

As she sat on the chair, stiff and anguished, she looked up at him and quailed at the look of disgust on his face and how his eyes seemed to flash and dance with anger.

"I am sorry. Yes, I was with him today. You are right. He and I did f.... what I mean to say is that he and I were together sexually."

"But we discussed this, didn't we? Only last week. And I thought we agreed that you would stop this kind of disrespectful behaviour! Didn't we? Yet here you are, again, a week, actually, less than a week later, going back on your word! Again! Why? Why do you have to keep doing this to me? To us?"

She was feeling miserable. Empty. She knew that what he was attempting to express, what he was trying to say was correct from his point of view, but she still felt that she had to try to explain. To try to encourage him to know, to enable him to see the whole situation from her point of view.

"Look, please... I know this must be upsetting for you, difficult for you to cope with, to understand and all that... but... but... what did you really expect? I mean, what did you really expect of me? What the Hell did you expect me to do about it all?" now she was becoming angry in response to his accusations.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, somewhat shocked by her outburst.

"Well, you knew what my situation was. You knew that I could never be yours 100 percent. Not really. Yet you always put these demands on me. WE never agreed that I would be yours exclusively! Last week you made another of your unilateral statements and expected me to comply with your demands.

"Demands that are, to my mind, unfair and, in reality, demands that are completely unreasonable!"

"Unreasonable? Unreasonable in what way?" His anger was now infused with bewilderment.

"Unreasonable because you know that I find it hard to be committed to one person! Damn it to Hell! If I were that kind of a person, we would not be here, would we? Us, as us, would not even exist, at all!"

He whined: "But why can't you keep out of his bed? Why must you keep having sex with him? Why? What hold does he have over you?"

She looked at him, and, with genuine pity in heart for him, she said, as softly as she could, "Because, despite what I feel for you, I still have feelings for him. I love you, but I still love him, also.

"And, when all is said and done, he is my husband and the father of my three children."

This is another flash story. And, yes, based on discussions between posters on the cheater's high five website. Apparently some cheaters do feel that their affair partner should not have sex with their unwitting spouse.