Siblings Discover The Challenges and Joys of Secret Love
With her long blonde hair, flawless skin, sultry blue eyes, stunningly perfect body, glowing personality and heart of gold, Sherry was the most perfect girl I had ever seen and the absolute love of my life. There was only one problem. Sherry was also my sister.
In spite of that -- or perhaps because of it -- I worshipped the ground she walked on. And admittedly, as we both began developing through our teenage years, the love I had always felt for her as my older 'little' sister was gradually evolving into something much deeper and more ardent.
At first I tried to deny my feelings -- to suppress my desire to at least explore the possibility that we could ever be more than what we were. After all, to even think of Sherry in any other way was, by society's standards, wrong on every level. Yet, as we both matured, my attraction only seemed to grow stronger.
She was what I would consider to be the archetype of what I, or any man for that matter, would ever want in a woman. That's why I couldn't help but wonder why life had been so cruel as to have placed her so close to me for so long, only to make it impossible for me to openly reach out and make her mine.
To make matters even worse, I sensed she had similar feelings for me. But since I couldn't be sure, I always thought better of fully expressing how I felt for fear that she might think I was some kind of degenerate, and thus jeopardize the kind of loving relationship we were allowed, even encouraged, to have. No, I reasoned, if I was ever going to say anything to her, it would have to wait until one of us, or both, were older and living on our own. I just hoped that when that time came, it wouldn't be too late -- that she would be married or that we would simply grow apart.
Now, I don't think it's all that uncommon for siblings or other immediate family members to develop romantic or lustful feelings for one another. After all, there are plenty of stories on this and other sites (whether real or fantasy) that will attest to that. But I suspect that many times, those feelings can simply be attributed to raging hormones that often dissipate or weaken over time or go away altogether when acted upon. Of course, there are other motivations for siblings to engage in sexual activity, including a deep seeded desire to dominate or submit; or regrettably, to simply inflict physical or emotional pain. Thankfully, neither of those scenarios applied to Sherry and me.
Being so close in age (only 11 months my senior), Sherry and I have always shared a very special emotional and spiritual bond that few siblings, especially those of the opposite sex, normally do. Growing up, we were perfectly content to play together. Sometimes we would just hang out and talk for hours on end about anything and everything. Nothing was really ever off limits -- no subject too wild or bizarre -- except of course, how we really felt about each other. We liked a lot of the same movies and music, and enjoyed a lot of the same kind of activities, especially swimming and skiing. We have just always been highly compatible. In fact, as we entered our teenage years, people would often comment that we seemed more like boyfriend and girlfriend than brother and sister.
And with each passing year, Sherry seemed to grow more beautiful, poised and confident. By the time she was in her mid-teens, she was by far the prettiest girl in school. Everywhere she went, she was complimented on her looks. "You should be a model," people would often tell her. She was also smart. Very smart. As an honor roll student, Sherry graduated at the top of her class. But, despite of all of the attention about her looks and intelligence, she remained very down-to-earth and personable.
As her only brother (and single biggest admirer), you can imagine how I felt when I would hear other guys trash-talking her. I got into more than a few fights with jerks who I'd heard had made up stories that they'd "nailed her." And, when some brain-dead nut job made unwanted or unwelcomed advances, I was usually there to make sure he didn't do it twice.
While Sherry was no prude -- she knew how to turn it on and flirt when she wanted to -- she was always careful to not to let things go too far. And on those rare occasions where the guys refused to back off, she would always turn to me to help set the record straight.
In spite of my true love for Sherry as a brother, I would be lying if I said I'd never fantasized what it would be like to make passionate, physical love to her.
It wasn't that we had never come close. Usually, when we were younger, it was when we were play wrestling or during one of our "tickling" sessions. I recall one particular time when we had been laying on the couch together -- me at one end and her at the other. Our parents had gone out for the evening. As we lay there watching "The Princess Bride" for the thousandth time, Sherry slithered down to my end of the sofa. "Hug me," she said, taking my arm and placing it around her. She had always been very affectionate, so I didn't think anything about it. "Will you be my Wesley?" she sighed. "As you wish," I said, and I kissed playfully on the back of her head.
With both of us tucked under the blanket that evening, it didn't take long for our combined body heat to build. "Will you tickle me like you used to?" she asked. "Sure, ok," I said. To be clear, her version of "being tickled" was having me ever-so-lightly stroke her skin until it formed goose-bumps. It was something she loved and that we did a lot as kids. But at that point we were in our early teens. Most people would have thought that quite odd.
As usual, I started just below her ears, then I worked my way down to the nape of her neck. From there I trailed my fingers down the backs and sides of her arms. Before long, she had pulled her pajama top up high enough that I could do her low back and stomach. I could tell she was getting aroused. From the glow of the T.V., I could see the outline of her hard, budding nipples through her thin pajama top. She wasn't the only one though. I was certain she could feel my penis stiffening and pressing into her side. I was beginning to perspire and I could tell her breathing had become more shallow. Although things had begun very innocently, I'm sure they wouldn't have stayed that way had we not seen our parent's headlights illuminate the curtains as they turned into the driveway. "Uh oh, mom and dad are home," I said. "Quick, get back down there to your end of the couch. Get under the covers."
We both settled back into our original positions and resumed watching the movie. Naturally, mom and dad were never the wiser, and while nothing really had happened that night, it had signaled a turning point of sorts in our relationship. If nothing else, we both knew we were capable -- maybe even willing -- to go farther given the right situation. But it would be several years before either of us talked about that night again. Somehow, I think we both sensed that it was a good thing that we were interrupted, because we were both too young to have been able to deal with the consequences had things progressed.
It wasn't until three years later that our mutual desires would rise to that level again. And this time, there was denying -- or stopping -- it.
I had just turned 18 and Sherry was just about a week shy of her 19th birthday. It was a typical hot summer day. Sherry and I, along with several of our friends, had been hanging out at one of our friend's pool. It was a pretty tame event as summer pool parties go. Somebody had brought some beers and wine coolers, but nobody had gotten out of control. It was one of those days where everyone just seemed to be content to hang out, play games and talk a little smack.
Since it was still pretty early in the season and I hadn't had a chance to build up a base tan, I ended up getting a pretty nasty sunburn. That afternoon when we got back home, I was coming out of the bathroom after having just showered when Sherry looked at me and said, "Ouch Johnny, that burn looks pretty bad. Why don't you go lie down and let me put some lotion on it for you."
"No, I'm ok," I said. "It'll be fine in a few hours."
"Don't be so stubborn," she said. "It'll make you feel better. Just go lie down."
We both walked into her room and I laid on her bed on my stomach with my arms stretched out and feet hanging over the edge. "Ok," I said, "But take it easy. It's already starting to sting."
"Oh, you big baby! Alllll-wright, I'll take it easy on my wittle bwother," she teased.
"Very funny," I said.
"I'll be right back, I'm going to get the lotion out of the bathroom." A few minutes later, she came back with a big pump bottle of aloe vera lotion, and, after squirting a healthy amount into the palm of her hand, she climbed on top of me, straddling my butt.
She was still wearing her bikini and smelled of coconut-scented suntan lotion. I could feel the heat from her crotch radiating through my towel as she tightened her thighs around my waist to steady herself.
The sensation of her body weight pressing down on my low back was enormously relaxing. At the same time, the thought of her tanned, taught body sitting atop me was causing my cock to rapidly stir. Unfortunately, my dick was pinned tightly in an awkwardly sideways position against my thigh. The harder I got, the more uncomfortable it became. It was also at that moment that I remembered that I was naked under the bath towel.
"Now, this is going to feel really cold at first," Sherry warned. "But it should help pull some of that heat out."
I could have cared less about the burn at that point. The sensation of her soft hands applying the soothing, cool lotion to my back, neck and shoulders felt too good to be true, as did the feeling of her long hair occasionally brushing against my sensitive skin.
"How does that feel?" she asked, as she applied more lotion.
"Oh my God," I groaned. "That feels amazing! You're hired," I joked. Then I added, "You know, if mom or dad walked in right now, we'd probably have some real explaining to do. Remember that time I was tickling you on the living room couch and mom and dad came home early?"
"Oh yeah... Only you would think of that," she giggled, lightly slapping my thigh. "I swear, you're such a perv at times."
