Ive had some messages about my own experiences with my brother, and some very interesting questions along with them. Here’s the answers.
No, I wasn’t a virgin when it happened, and I think that helped. I knew what to expect. As a family, we are very tactile, touchy-feely, and my brother and I would,often have tickling competitions aimed at making one or the other wet themselves. (Hmm....maybe that’s where my fetish comes from....I hadn’t realised that.) My sister is very different. She has always kept herself to herself and although she had her moments, she wasn’t in the same league. At the precise moment when our tickling session became sexual I could already feel his boner against me, of course. I admit, even as he was tickling me, I was imagining him fucking me and yes, I wished it was so. I didn’t make any conscious move to make him do it, but then I didn’t stop him either when his dick slipped out of his boxers. I was very, very wet. Some girls, well, it’s a watery kind of wetness, but with me think baby oil. My panties were soaked,and yes, I know that expression is over used, but then in my case, it’s the only word that fits, when I’m really wet down there, if you took my panties and gave the crotch a good squeeze, there would be drips between your fingers. So, everything was very moist and lubricted, we were both wriggling around and then....well....the rest is history. Someone asked me if it felt different to sex with my BF. Of course it did! This was forbidden fruits. This was taboo, That’s why it felt so good. Remember when YOU were growing up? Remember those first few mastrubation sessions? Door tightly locked, under the covers, desperate mom and did didn’t hear you? That felt good because it was naughty, right? Imagine how much naughtier fucking your own brother feels. As I felt him touch my vagina with his dick, he stopped....I stopped. But only for a second. I pulled him ever so gently towards me, and he started pushing ever so gently. As he stretched me open, the same thought ran through my brain on a loop. “It’s ,my brother...it’s my brother....it’s my brother”. Because it WAS my brother, it seemed to light an afterburner somehwere in my erotic nature. In an instant I wanted the whole damn thing...I wanted his dick...I wanted his cum. Someone asked if I felt guilty afterwards. A “good Catholic girl” like me should have felt sinful. Well, with respect to the person who asked that question, FUCK THAT! The Catholic Church is terrified of sex. I decided to jump,off that bandwagon when I was 13. All those “purity” lectures. A nun talking to us about our bodies and keeping them pure from the “touch of others and yourselves.” You could see this fucking nun colouring up. I would bet my next years salary, and the one after that that she masturbated every bit as much as we all did. Finally, someone asked what about now. Do we still fuck? The answer is no. We are in different States, half the country separates us, but if we were to meet up? I don’t think we would rip each other’s clothes off, but if the circumstances were right, yeah, I think we might good around. BUT....I still masturbate thinking about him.....regularly. I have some pretty good orgasms thinking about and expanding on what we did. In my dirty little mind, he has had me in the ass, cum in my mouth, and I’ve peed all over him. I've had him while his friends watched, and then had them too. In one particularly yummy fantasy, he invites me to meet his school basket ball team....in the boys locker room, I strip naked and masturbate for them while some of them jerk off....some of them fuck me, meanwhile, my brother just watches until the boys have done, then he fucks me. So yes, I still masturbate thinking about his from time to time. speaking of which.......
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