Wild Sex Tales(Erotica)

97:Getting Dirty With Sister(Incest/Taboo)



New Story Title: Getting Dirty With Sister(Incest/Taboo)

Our common interest keeps us cumming together.

Enjoy….

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“Jennifer can’t stay with me this summer,” I said.

“You have that whole place to yourself,” Mom said, “You can’t make room for your sister?” Even one hundred miles away, her voice was so loud that I had to hold the cellphone a foot from my ear to protect the integrity of my skull.

“Mom, it’s a New York apartment,” I said, “When I sit to use the toilet, my feet are in the shower.”

“So, don’t use the bathroom together,” Mom said, as if she’d solved everything.

A one-bedroom apartment is a palace in Manhattan, but it’s a broom closet anyplace else. My kitchen was in my living room. I slept in a double bed, like a college kid, because it was the only mattress that fit in my bedroom. The fact that I was proud to be able to afford this place, that my friends were all jealous of where I lived, is proof that city living is stupid.

“Matthew,” Mom said, regaining my attention, “I know you’re picturing your sister as some little kid, but she’s a twenty-two-year-old woman who can take care of herself. Besides, you can’t tell me you aren’t lonely. Are you even seeing anyone?”

“I have work,” I said, “That keeps me occupied enough.”

“You are going to help out your sister, Matthew,” Mom said. I recognized that tone of voice and some instinctual part of my brain began wetting itself. “After your divorce, when you had no place to live, do you remember what happened?”

If I had any doubt that I was in deep trouble, the mention of my disastrous marriage from five years before made it clear.

“You called me, crying,” Mom said, answering her own question. “And what did I do?”

“You gave me rent money,” I said.

“Did your father and I have five-thousand dollars lying around? No, we did not. But we gave it to you anyway because we knew you had no other options. Do you see what I’m saying to you right now, Matthew?”

Realizing that I had no other choice in the matter, I agreed to let my little sister stay with me for the summer, then hung up the phone. I flopped down on the couch, already feeling squeezed by my tiny apartment, and wondered how much worse it was about to get.

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“It’s Jennifer!”

Two weeks after my mother had browbeaten me into submission, my little sister buzzed my intercom. I hadn’t seen Jennifer in a long time. In some ways, I’d never truly seen her.

I was fifteen when Jennifer was born. She was an admitted accident. My parents weren’t trying for kids, but one showed up. Jennifer was three when I left for college. At nine, she acted as the flower girl for my wedding. She was a cute, brown-haired moppet with big green eyes and a goofy smile, her nose a little too big for her face. I felt more like a distant uncle than an older brother.

I guess, when I opened my apartment door, I was still expecting that doofy little kid. What I saw, however, was a gorgeous, twenty-two-year-old woman. Jennifer was only a couple inches shorter than me. Her thick, brown hair ran in rivulets down over her shoulders. She had an oval face, with full, red lips and apple-pink cheeks. Her eyes were massive and verdant. Her nose was still a bit too big, but somehow it just made her cuter.

As soon as she saw me, my little sister wrapped her arms around my neck like we were old friends.

“Thank you so much, Matt,” she said. She smelled sweet, like fresh strawberries. Her grip so tight I thought I might tip over.

Jennifer stepped back and let me look at her again. She had on a tight t-shirt and blue jeans. Not voluptuous, but definitely feminine.

Despite our age difference, I realized we looked a lot alike. We had the same hair (though mine was shorn close) and the same eyes (though hers were emerald to my jade). Jennifer was a bit shorter than me and had a lot more curves, but still. It was like looking at the Instagram filter that switches your gender.

My sister saw me staring and quirked a nervous smile. I quickly looked down and saw the suitcase at her side.

“Let me get that for you,” I said, and dragged the bag into the apartment. Jennifer stayed at the threshold like she was stuck there.

“Come on, come in,” I said, “There aren’t any bear traps or poisoned darts. At least not in the living room.”

Jennifer chuckled, like trying to build her courage, and walked into my apartment. The door led right into the kitchen, basically a stovetop on a counter. That spilled into the living room. There was a small hallway behind there leading to the little bedroom and the teacup bathroom. Jennifer took it all in like she was expecting it to swallow her whole.

“I warned Mom it was tiny,” I said, “But she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“No, it’s OK,” Jennifer said, “It’s more than OK. It’s amazing. This is walking distance from work and the subway is right down the block.”

“There’s, like, ten amazing places to eat all within five minutes,” I said.

“It’s New York,” Jennifer said, “Your apartment could be a dumpster and it would be incredible.”

“Honestly, there’s probably more room in a dumpster,” I said.

“Seriously, I can’t thank you enough, Matt,” Jennifer said, “I know Mom forced you into this and I’m sorry. I swear, if I had any other option.”

“It’s fine,” I said, “It’ll be fun. I’m looking forward to spending some time with my sister. Getting to know you.”

“I’d like that,” Jennifer said, and for the first time I caught the beginnings of a genuine grin. She gave me another hug, and I told my body to ignore how nice she felt pressed against me. Sister. She’s your sister. Please stop perving on your sister. My dick didn’t care. I stepped back before it became obvious.

“So, ummm, listen, I don’t have a bedroom for you,” I said, “Or, like, a bed.” I gestured down at the couch. After Mom had made her case, I’d bought a tiny, twin futon. But it wasn’t much to sleep on.

“I’m working a lot of the time so it shouldn’t be too bad,” I said.

“I’ll be at my internship mostly,” Jennifer said.

“Exactly,” I said, “It’ll be easy. Or at least, not as hard as you’re probably thinking. And, hey, maybe you’ll meet a guy in a couple weeks and end up crashing at his place most of the summer.”

Jennifer gave me an odd look, but she didn’t respond. It was to be expected — everything between us was awkward. She was my sibling; genetically as close as it comes. But relationship-wise we were barely even acquaintances.

Like I said, my sister was a decade and a half younger than me. We probably hadn’t shared a close moment since I bandaged the boo-boo on her knee when she fell off the swing set at age 6. I knew more about the building superintendent (an older, Lithuanian gentleman who only spoke Russian and smelled like old potatoes) than I did about my own flesh and blood sister.

It made the first few days hard. The small apartment made everything harder. Whatever moments we had together were filled with awkward accidents and uncomfortable incidents. I swear, sometimes it seemed like the only thing we ever said to each other in the beginning was ‘sorry.’

Jennifer caught me naked first. I was in the shower after my morning run and my sister, still waking up, opened the bathroom door.

“Oh shit,” she said, jumping back. The shower had a clear curtain, and she could see everything. Her cheeks, already a healthy pink, went bright red.

“It’s OK,” I said, “It was bound to happen eventually.” I waited for her to walk back out, but she stayed in the doorway, staring. “Jennifer?”

“Sorry. Um, I really have to pee?”

“Give me one sec,” I said. I was pretty much done, anyway, so I turned off the water, grabbed my towel and wrapped myself up. For a moment, I wondered if I should have told her to go while I was in there. Checking out my little sister. I know. At least I didn’t act on those urges.


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