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Unrequited love of an older sister
My name is Sarah. Sarah Winter. And as long as I can remember, I've been in love with my younger brother Lars.
It started as a harmless crush, when I was about ten years old. He was only about seven, but oh boy, did I think he was cute! He always had this soft, curly blond hair, and the big brown eyes. And he was always so kind and sweet to everyone. He was always caring and helpful, especially with younger kids. I was so proud to be his older sister!
As we grew older, I expected my crush to fade away. Like its to be expected with a childhood crush. But it didn't. It only grew larger.
I loved him for how smart he was. He knew so many things, and could always tell me something new and interesting.
I loved him for how funny he was. He never played any pranks, he was way to nice for that. But he liked to crack a lot of jokes, or, if the opportunity arose, he gave brilliant or sarcastic comments. How often have I've been lying on the floor, laughing, thanks to him.
I loved him for how good in sports he was. When he was about ten years old, he joined the athletics club of our school. He trained almost every day, for years. Sit-ups, jogging, the usual. How often have I watched him from the side. How often did I cheer him on. Just tried my best to be the supportive older sister I wanted to be.
I'm not stupid. Of course I knew, it could never be. No matter how strong my love to him was.
And besides, I knew exactly that my feelings were one-sided. Lars trusted me, more than anyone else. And so he told me about all the girls he had a crush on. And I, trying to be a good older sister, supported him. Gave him advice. Listened. Even got him the phone number of a girl from my class one time. This one didn't work out, thankfully.
But every time, after night was falling, I was crying so many unseen tears...
When I turned eighteen, I realised, it couldn't go on like this. Something had to change.
There was this boy in my class, Kyle. He confessed his love to me a couple of days ago. He reminded me a lot of Lars. Similar hair. Same eye colour. Also quite clever, and into sport as well. I had told him I'd think about it. The same day, I called him.
We started dating.
At first, it went pretty well. We got pretty good chemistry, and we must have looked quite cute together, cause every time we were walking the streets, people were turning their heads in our direction. He was kind and smart, and best of all, he even got along pretty well with Lars. Anything else would have been an absolute no-go for me. I think Kyle kinda knew that. He made a big effort to get along with my little brother, back then fresh fifteen years old. He even joined the same athletics club. We were a pretty good team. When the boys had a competition, I was always there, cheering them on from the sidelines. I brought them water, congratulated them when they won, gave loving comfort and support when they lost. Just the perfect older sister slash girlfriend.
Looking back, that must have been the happiest time of my life.
Me and Kyle were together for five years. In this time, him, Lars and me were inseparable. People jokingly called us the Three Musketeers. One for all, all for one.
My grandbetting yeni giriş relationship with Kyle was going smoothly. When I turned twenty one, he took my virginity, and after that we slept almost every day with each other. I enjoyed the sex. It was great.
And yet, every time I came, every time I closed my eyes for the last orgasm, another boys face appeared in my mind. A face with the same eye colour and similar hair as Kyle. But younger. The face of a certain someone who had just turned eighteen. And with a shape way closer to mine.
I prayed to god that my obsession would go away. Yet, nothing changed. Every time my boyfriend was on top of me, pounding into my wet, tight pussy while grunting my name, a part of me imagined my little brother on top of me instead.
I told myself, that it was just a fantasy. And that Kyle would never know, so it was completely harmless.
Oh, how wrong I was.
Kyle did know. I don't know how, but he did. Maybe he had seen the strange look in my eyes, when I was watching Lars. Maybe his name slipped involuntarily through my pressed together lips when he was fucking me hard.
But he knew.
And that's why he, after five years, broke up with me.
On our anniversary.
I was heartbroken. Despite everything, I really had loved him.
And worst of all, I only had myself to blame.
Here I was, Ladies and Gentlemen.
Sarah Winter.
Twenty-three years old.
Twofold heartbroken.
Once because my boyfriend broke up with me.
And once because I loved someone I would never be able to have.
Lars of course, being the perfect little brother he was, tried his best to support me. He was the shoulder I could cry on, and he listened and tried to give me advice. Of course, his own experience was limited. He was still single with his now eighteen years, can you imagine?!
I couldn't.
For me, it seemed as if the entire world had stopped making sense.
It was a stormy and dark summer night. The rain was falling outside. Hammered against the roof. Tipped and clicked against my window.
And then, the first lightning bolt ran across the nights sky.
The thunder followed it seconds later.
I woke up, my heart pounding and hammering in my chest. I hated thunderstorms.
Still half asleep, I whispered: "Kyle, did you hear that? I'm scared."
No answer.
The silence plunged into my heart like a knife.
I got up. I opened my door, left my room. Went on naked feet in the hallway.
Mom and dad were out with friends.
There was only one person I could go to.
Lars.
I felt cold in my pink pyjama, as I entered his room. "Lars", I whispered. "Are you awake?"
Only silence answered me, and the calm breath of my little brother.
He was sound asleep.
Lucky guy.
I walked closer to his bed. For whatever reason I was careful to make no noise to wake him up.
Ha-ha, as if. The sky was roaring as if the time of Armageddon had finally come. If this didn't woke him up, my footsteps certainly wouldn't either.
I stood next to Lars' bed. My eyes got used to the dark, and finally I was able to see him.
My breath stopped for a moment.
There he was.
Lars grandbetting giriş only wore black boxer shorts. He had kicked off his blankets in his sleep, so there was nothing blocking my view on his gorgeous body. On his well defined muscles. His thin yet strong arms. His wide chest. His six-pack. The light hair on his chest, his tummy, his legs.
There was only one thing blocking my view.
His underwear.
I could feel a tell-tale wetness in my crotch.
My nipples got hard.
My breath heavy.
I even forgot the thunderstorm outside.
I don't know why I did what I was doing next.
Lars and me had drunken a few couple of beers this night, so we had been really drunk. Maybe I still was tipsy, and therefore not thinking straight.
But with shaky hands, I was pulling off his boxer shorts.
Slowly, carefully not to wake him.
As I dropped it to the floor, there was nothing blocking my view any more.
I had an unobstructed view of my brother's penis.
It was soft, obviously. But I still could see, that it was quite large.
My pussy was drowning in its own juices. Hesitantly, I pushed one of my shaky hands in my pyjama pants. My fingers went into my wetness, found my clit. Massaged it, rubbed it.
What a sight to behold.
A thunderstorm outside.
My little brother.
And me, masturbating in front of his bed.
I got more and more turned on. I started moaning a little, and desperately tried to keep my voice down. Years of suppressed desires, unrequited love were breaking free.
One hand in my pants, I stretched out the other, with trembling grip.
And touched his cock for the first time in my life.
Something like an electric shock went threw my arm.
Somehow, that had been the last straw.
I came closer, still rubbing and fingering myself, and now rubbing him. Lars' cock started growing, which made me moan and buck into my hand harder.
It was so stiff. And hard. I grabbed it with my hand, ran the shaft up and down.
I'm really not sure what happened next, but the next thing I remember was me being naked, my clothes on the floor. My little brother was still lying there, equally naked. He was sleeping peacefully, even snoring a little in his drunk sleep.
And I was over him. My wet, tight pussy was hovering over his large cock. I lowered it down. And for the first time, a pussy was touching my little brothers cock.
My pussy.
My pussy was touching my little brothers cock.
I knew I couldn't do this.
Shouldn't do this.
Wouldn't do this.
I would get up and leave.
Lie down in my bed, furiously masturbating and fingering myself.
And then I would fall asleep. I would wake up in the morning, believing everything to be a bad dream. Then I would remember, and I would be embarrassed, but relieved, that I didn't do it.
I would get up, hug my little brother, who would be confused, but would assume, that I was just still sad because of Kyle, and who would hug me back.
And then I would forget all of what had happened and never do it again.
I mean, I wasn't even on birth control. Kyle and me had always used condoms, I didn't want to use the pill. So how could I do that?
I grandbetting güvenilirmi mean, getting pregnant, at my age, by my own brother?
I mean...
Slowly, my hips were lowering down.
And Lars' cock started to enter my pussy.
As the tip plunged into my wet tight hole, I let out a loud moan.
While the thunder was growling outside, I held myself still, trembling with fear and lust.
But Lars didn't wake up.
I lowered myself more, put more of his hard shaft into my wet and ready pussy.
Finally, finally, it was getting what it always had wanted, always had desired.
Always had needed.
And then, he was fully inside my.
My little brother.
In his older sisters pussy.
My head went blank.
I started moving.
My hips were moving up and down, slowly at first. Then faster, as I couldn't hold back any longer, until I was fucking him hard in his own bed.
"Mmmmh....," I moaned. My cunt was tingling. I knew, my orgasm wasn't far.
Then, Lars started to open his eyes.
My heart stopped for a second, but my body didn't. It couldn't.
Not now.
Not after it finally got what it always needed.
"S...Sarah?" Lars asked, still sleepy. He moaned, but didn't seem to realise what was going on. I was right, he still was very drunk.
Then he fully woke up.
And it hit him.
"Sarah! What are you doing!" he yelled. He did grab my arms, with his strong hands. But he was still shocked, still just waking up, and he was still more drunk then he had ever been.
And he was getting his first fuck by his older sister.
His grab, normally strong and confident, was week as a child's.
He tried to push me off, while he was moaning involuntarily, as I was still fucking him hard.
My pussy tightened. I could feel the orgasm getting closer.
"Sarah...stop...please, please...stop," Lars begged, moaning.
I could feel his cock twitching inside me. He was getting closer as well.
I was leaning forward, so that my forehead was touching his. My hands grabbed his shoulders, pressed him on the mattress, into his pillows.
"Cum for me, little brother," I whispered. "Cum inside your big sister!"
Then I kissed him.
This way, I stole his first kiss, right after I stole his virginity.
He bucked his hips, moaned into my mouth. He was desperately trying to push me of.
He managed to push my head to the side, gasping for air.
"No, no!," he was screaming.
Then he came.
Inside of me.
His sperm flooded my wet, fertile pussy. Spilled through my cervix. Into my womb.
It found something in there. A ripe, fertile egg cell.
A single of Lars' sperm cells penetrated its walls.
I came.
I came and came and came.
I cried out his name, and my love for him.
Loud, louder than the thunderstorm outside.
Then I collapsed on top of Lars.
On top of my little brother, who I've had raped.
Whose virginity and first kiss I had stolen.
Whose child would now be growing in me.
I kissed him one last time.
"I love you, Lars," I whispered. "I always have."
He didn't say anything.
Then I got up. My little brothers sperm was still dripping out of me.
I walked through the dark room, only lightened by the thunderstorm outside.
Opened the door.
Went through it.
Closed it behind me.
I was gone, and Lars was lying on his bed, alone in the dark.
"I know," he finally whispered to no one but himself.
"I always have."