Isnt A Sisters Love The Best

Standing back as his wife Helen pulled away from the kerb, John Elliot blew his six-year-olds a kiss. Tim, the little scamp, pulled a funny face—he already thought that he was too old for kisses. But, Tina, his little sweetheart, blew him kisses until the car disappeared from sight.

He would miss the two mischief makers, John acknowledged, as he walked slowly back up to the house.

But it was only for two days and a night.

And what a night it would be!

He and Helen were celebrating their seventh wedding anniversary and so far each celebration had been better than the one before. He still got instantly hard when he thought of Helen's little surprise the previous year—dressing as a tramp, allowing him to rescue her and then in her gratitude offering her sweet little behind for him to plunder after he had generously offered her a bath, some food and a bed for the night.

He hoped he could resist having anal sex with her tonight even if she offered. He had grown up with strict, church-going parents and anal sex though it had felt good the few times he and Helen had engaged in the act, afterwards he had felt terribly guilty, especially because it had left poor Helen sore for a day or two.

No, tonight he would be strong and refuse even if she begged him to—

The doorbell interrupted his thoughts. Who could it be? Helen couldn't have made the return trip to his parents' home already, surely?

Unless there had been an acci—

He stumbled to the door, his heart in his hands—everything he held dear was in that car. He couldn't survive if anything happened to Helen...or his children...

The doorbell went again, impatiently, as he stood with his hand on the knob, afraid to open the door and face his fear.

"John, are you in there? Open up, it's me, Susan!"

Weak with relief, he turned the knob quickly and found his sister smiling back at him.

Susan smiling? She must have won the lottery or something. She never smiled.

"Hey, little brother, aren't you going to let me in?"

"Sure, come in." He hoped she didn't intend to stay too long. Once she got talking she could bore for England. She had probably come to see the twins; perhaps if he let her know that he was home alone she would soon be on her way. "You just missed Helen and the kids."

"I know," she said, slipping her sensible black pumps off. "Mum told me that Helen was bringing the kids to spend the night with her and Dad, so I rushed over as fast as I could to catch you alone."

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. I needed to see you."

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" It would be a first, but when the good go bad, they go rotten.

"Of course I'm not in trouble!" Susan denied, giving him that exasperated wise-older-sister-to-silly-younger-brother look. "I just missed you."

"Missed me?" Growing up with Susan had been like growing up as an only child. She was bookish and serious. It had seemed that the only time she had spoken to John was to tell him off for being naughty.

"I miss having you around, little brother." She came closer and John backed away in surprise—her breasts had almost touched him.

"Susan, have you been drinking?" She looked sober, but she was acting quite strangely and wearing...lipstick? Something was definitely wrong with her. But he didn't have the time to find out what it was. Not tonight of all nights. He reached for the telephone. "Let me call Mum. You're clearly not yourself."

Before he could press the speed dial button, she reached out and took the cordless phone out of his hand.

"Do you want something to drink?" She was rather partial to a glass or two of white wine. He would use the phone in the kitchen when he went to get her the drink.

"I don't want anything to drink. I don't want anything to eat. I just want to be with you." She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him. "Since you married Helen you and I never spend time alone together."

"We never did before I got married," he reminded her.

"Yes, but at least you were there if I needed you."

"I'm still here if you need me."

"Good, because I need you now." She pushed him backwards onto the settee and caught off balance, he fell heavily. She immediately straddled him, her long skirt hitching up to show legs encased in opaque black tights. Moving in closer, she rubbed her crutch against his groin. "I need you desperately."

"Susan?" he questioned in alarm. One of them had to be dreaming—he hoped he was! And prayed that he would wake soon from the horrible nightmare. "Helen will be back at any minute."

"No, she won't. Mum will keep her talking for at least an hour. And then Dad will insist on showing her his new roses and telling her all the plans he has for his garden next year."

"Even so..." John ground to a halt. It didn't matter whether Helen was home or not! His sister was sitting on his lap rubbing herself against him—the kind of behaviour that had to be illegal in every country in the world! "She would misunderstand if she walked in and found you sitting on me."

Maybe if he played dumb, Susan would desist.

"Okay. Go lock the door." She moved off him and sprawled across the large settee.

He walked to the door, debating whether he should stay or make a break for it.

"Lock the door and come back here to me, John," Susan commanded in her older-sister voice.

He complied as he had always done when she had given him an instruction. She had never struck him or been cruel to him, yet he had always secretly feared her wrath much more than his parents'.

And against his will he was as stiff as a poker.

But the part of his brain that was still functioning argued, "Helen will wonder why it's locked."

"I'll tell her I locked it accidentally because I'm used to locking my front door as soon as I get home from work. Now come closer."

Susan knelt up in the chair and grabbed him as soon as he was close enough. She angled her head for his kiss, a strangely awkward movement that made him wonder if she had ever been kissed before.

If she had, it must have been by the world's worst kisser. She couldn't kiss.

She learned quickly though and soon they were exchanging long, breathless kisses.

John pulled his lips away from hers when he felt her tugging at his shirt, trying to pull it free from his Levis.

"No." He put his hand over hers. "Susan, we can't get undressed. It would take us too long to put our clothes back on if Helen suddenly came home."

"We don't have to get undressed." She leaned back against the settee and opened her legs wide. "All you have to do is slip yourself through here." She felt for the seam of the tights, pushed her fingers through and quickly ripped a hole in the crotch of the soft material. John looked away instinctively as he got a flash of pubic hair.

"Oh God!" He turned away from her. "Susan, we can't do this."

"John, I want you." She got off the settee and slipped her arms around his waist from behind. "I want to feel you inside me."

"Susan, I can't. I can't," he repeated, more for his benefit than hers. He could, of course—the stiff wood in his boxers was a testament to the fact.

"John, I'm going out of my mind. I've been saving and saving myself for marriage, but no one wants to marry me!" Hearing the unshed tears in her voice he turned and hugged her hard against his chest. "If you don't want me, I'll walk up to the next stranger I meet in the street and tell him that I want to give him my virginity."

Oh God, she was a virgin! She'd never had a boyfriend, or at least one that she had been seen with or introduced to the family, but John had thought that surely a classmate at school, or a member of the church or even the randy-looking pastor...one of them must had by now deflowered his not-bad-looking sister.

Would she honestly give herself to a stranger? She seemed desperate enough to do it.

He had to make a terrible choice.

But what alternative did he have?

And what was worse: a brother who loved her and would try not to cause her too much pain; or some random stranger who could give her a deathly disease if she was lucky or rape and kill her if she was not. They may not have been the closest of siblings, but he loved her and had always known despite her prickly, introverted ways, she loved him just as much.

"Alright, alright" he agreed and pushed her gently back down onto the settee. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that it was his last chance to get himself out of the sticky situation, before he lay down beside her.

Their faces were close, almost touching as they stared into each other's eyes.

He couldn't remember being this close to her before. He didn't remember her skin looking so dewy soft and it must be a trick of the light—her eyes were the greenest he had ever seen, as green as a meadow in spring.

He wanted her desperately, he realized with a start, as a surge of blood flowed to his groin and pushed his already-hard penis against the unyielding fabric of his jeans.

"Take your breast out for me," he instructed as he pulled her outer leg up to straddle his hip and reached into the ruined gusset of her tights.

"I never understand why men want to suck on women's breast. Surely they were only made for babies to suck on," she complained, but slipped her hand into her white cotton bra and bared her left breast.

He stared at it for a moment. Growing up together as children he had seen her chest often. How had that small, flat expanse with its tiny nipple which had looked almost exactly like his, become this tempting, quivering mound of flesh that he had to taste or die? Leaning forward eagerly he took her nipple and her entire areola into his mouth.

"Gosh, that feels really nice." Even shocked by the sensation of his tugging lips, she didn't utter a profanity. She raised herself up slightly so that she could get a better view of his suckling lips on her breast. Mesmerized by the sight, she didn't even take her eyes off as he parted her pubic hair and found the stiff little bud of her clitoris. "It's making me feel all shivery inside."

And your inside nice and wet, John thought, as he slipped the finger he had been rubbing against her clitoris up into the slipperiness.

Gosh...shit, now she was making him mind his language, too...but she was absolutely dripping! He had thought that she would have needed the same length of preparation Helen had needed the first time they had made love, but though she was quite tight, Susan was ready.

Ready for her younger brother's cock.

"Can I see it?" she asked, moving backwards to get a glimpse of him as he fumbled with his fly one handed.

"Afterwards," he promised, freeing his penis and aligning his body to press inside her. He wasn't as big as some of the ridiculous stars of the porn movies he had watched in his solitary bunk late at night when he was in Iraq, but he was big enough to make her nervous and he didn't want her to tighten up.

"Is that all of it," she asked innocently as he drew himself back a few millimetres and sunk himself a little deeper on his forward thrust.

"No, there's a little more to go."

"It's real nice. Much nicer than I thought it would be and not nearly as painful as everyone said it was."

"It's painful?" he asked, stilling his movement. She was so incredibly relaxed he hadn't thought that she was feeling any pain.

"Not really," she quickly assured him. "I just feel full—like nothing else can fit inside me."

"There's only a little bit more to go," he lied, ripping the tights further and fingering her lightly as he tried to go deeper. Things quickly became more difficult. "I need you to be brave for me, honey. It's going to hurt a little bit and then it will be all over."

"I trust you, John."

She had said the same words to him when he had taught her to skate. She had been absolutely petrified of falling and yet when he had taken her hands and told her to trust that he would protect her from falling, she had uttered those exact words and stepped onto the ice to join him.

And maybe because he had protected her as promised and had had her skating like a professional by the end of that winter, she now displayed no sign of fear or anxiety as she gazed back at him.

But he had to be cruel to be kind.

Pulling a sticky plaster off slowly was much more agonizing than yanking it off.

Taking a deep breath, he positioned himself and thrust quickly, deeply inside her.

"Shh, shh," he cooed softly, pulling her head against his shoulder to muffle her soft moans while he rubbed her back soothingly through the wool of her dress.

It felt good...so right...to be inside her, he thought moments later as she relaxed and softened around him, allowing him to withdraw and then plunge smoothly back inside her.

His heart felt as though it would burst with love for her—he had surely never loved her more.

He had never felt closer to her.

He had never acknowledged the closeness that had developed between them growing up together and sharing each other's toys and dreams.

The closeness that had now taken them into forbidden territory.

But how could this be wrong when it felt so damned right? he thought as he quickened his thrusts and joined her in a shared orgasm that seemed as explosive for her as it was for him.

***

John took a deep breath, rested his head against Helen's and smiled. "I'm never going to repeat that fantasy," he vowed, his chest still rising and falling as though he had just completed a hundred metre sprint. "God, I hope Mum drops the kids off and not Susan. I can't look her in the eye for at least another ten years!"

Helen laughed, slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him. "You're too straight-laced for your own good! Incest stories are all the rage at the moment."

"To each his own I guess, but Susan was such a bossy, older sister I never fantasized about her even when I was a horny teenager." His eyes widened in alarm as a thought struck him. "And please, please, don't you dare be my mother next anniversary!"

"Honey, I would never go that far!" Her green eyes twinkled.

"Helen, I'm serious!"

"Okay. You're obviously not ready for your mum yet, so that leaves my mom—"

"Helen, that's just as bad!"

"My dad?"

John gasped in shock.

"Alright, maybe not my dad or my brothers. What about my sister?

"She's sixteen!"

"Okay, we'll leave her for a couple more years." Helen sighed as if in exasperation. "It's becoming harder and harder to think up surprises for you on our anniversaries."

"Maybe next year you should come as yourself. I quite like the real you."

"Maybe I will...or maybe I'll be Mrs Thompson.

"Helen, she's at least ninety!"

"Yes, and I'm sure that she could teach you a thing or two."

"You little minx! Come here and I'll teach you several things!" he threatened, reaching for her.

Avoiding his hands, she screamed, jumped off the settee and raced towards the bedroom.

With his much longer legs he caught her in a couple of strides. Lifting her bodily, he tossed her onto the bed, the look of a man intend on punishing a naughty wife on his face.

© Lexy Harper 2010

This is the second of three standalone wedding anniversary stories based on happily married English couple John and Helen. I know some of you die-hard Incest/Taboo fans will be a little disappointed at the end, but like I did in the first part, "Is the Tramp a Lady?", I wanted to create a fantasy that drew the reader in and then had a little twist in the tale.

But John and Helen are secure enough in their marriage for one of them to sleep with someone outside the marriage. Who knows what they could get up to next in "It's Good to be Neighbourly!"