TABOO TALES(erotica)

I visualized what was behind that strip of damp fabric: the plump lips that I had seen before, but now wet with the heat and perhaps open a little wider than before… and the tight little orifice behind it, crimped and snug between the fragrant cheeks of her ass. I imagined the dampness there – the press of her wet flesh against the material, the leak of her juices into the weave of the fabric, as sweet as fresh honey. My cock grew hard quickly, moving silently over my belly to stand proud, bobbing slightly as she watched. The head distended and swelled, purple against the pale skin of my belly, and a drop of clear lubricant dribbled from the tip like a pearl against the darker hue of arousal.

For a few moments more she watched it, her body quite motionless, and then she stretched out her hand and touched me with the tip of one finger, resting it gently against the heated flesh of my rod. I could feel the pressure of her fingertip against the base of my shaft; and then, ever so gently, she drew it slowly along my full length until it reached the very tip. My cock lurched in response and a fresh trickle of lubricant escaped from the end, oozing against the tip of her finger, stringing out in a fine thread of silver as she lifted her hand away. Almost without thinking she pressed it to her lips and the tip of her tongue dabbed the shiny wet pad, and then, as if suddenly realising what she had done, she turned away and almost ran to the door.

She stopped there and turned towards me. “Now we’re quits, David,” she said, but her voice was gusty and uncertain.

I said nothing. I didn’t need to. She could read it in my face and I saw her confusion. She turned again and ran down the corridor towards the sanctuary of her room to shut out the lust in my eyes.

I suppose that was the moment I stopped thinking about her as my sister – I figured she had moved beyond the normal relationship when she stroked my cock and tasted my pre-cum. She was fair game now and it was clear to me that I wasn’t the only one enjoying it, for I had seen the flash of her little white panties as she ran with a dark stain of her desire at the crutch.

I seized my cock and stroked it, imagining how she would straddle me and lower herself onto my straining rod. I knew how tight she would be how she would move, and I could feel the cloying heat of her cunt and the tight rhythmic undulation of her hips. I imagined how she would look as I stared up at her face: her mouth open, lips slack and wet and her hair moving languorously back and forth as we fucked; and I could feel the satin of her thighs either side of my hips and the press of her hands on my chest to steady herself. My hand gripped harder, flying along the shaft, feeling the inexorable spiral of pleasure until that one tremulous instant where I was balanced on the very edge of time: and then I spurted. A groan of intense pleasure burst from my lips and great streams of thick, steaming jism burst from the head, desperate to be inside my sister’s body but finding only the skin of my belly on which to land.

And immediately afterwards, as I lay in my hot little room panting with the effort of my exertions, I thought I heard furtive footsteps back away from my still open door and then the soft click of a latch as she locked herself in her bedroom. I wondered if she had watched me spurting and known who was the subject of my lust.

I wondered if she would soon be doing what I had just done, and I ached to be with her.

*****

One morning when Mum was out I let myself silently into the bathroom, desperate to see her again. Jen was in the shower and the room was filled with steam, fragrant with the smell of soap and shampoo. I sat on the toilet and watched. I could see the pale blur of her body through the wet glass and hear her singing, and although I couldn’t see much the thought of her wet naked body only a few feet away had a powerful effect on me. My cock stiffened in response.

There was a scrap of material lying on the mat and I stooped to pick it up, the material thin and filmy in my fingers: it was her panties, still warm from her body, and I turned them over in my hand and pressed the gusset to my face, remembering when they had been filled by her curves and hidden valleys… and how I had fantasized about her aroma trapped in the weave of the fabric. I breathed in and it was there, faint but unmistakable – the smell of my sister’s pussy. The musk of her sex was captured in the threads of material just I had envisaged, and it filled my senses.

The shower shut off and I hurriedly stuffed them in my shirt pocket and I waited with my heart hammering in my chest. She had draped her towel over the top of the screen and I saw her hand appear and take it, the fingers slim and delicate, and then I heard her voice.

“Is that you, David?”Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“Yes…. how did you know?”

She laughed. “I felt the draft when you opened the door. Don’t ever think of becoming a burglar.” She paused, then in a more curious tone: “What are you doing?”

“Waiting to see you naked.”

“You’ve been there five minutes… haven’t you seen enough?”

“I couldn’t see anything,” I admitted. “The room was all steamed up.”

She laughed again. “Yeah. I bet it wasn’t the hot water that was causing it, either, you pervert. All that heavy breathing… not good for you, David. You’ll hyperventilate and fall over.” The shower door suddenly slid back and she stepped out, the towel wrapped around her. “So, her I am, big brother. You’ve seen me now – are you satisfied?” She was smiling, clearly delighted by the thought I had been cheated of my goal.

“That’s not fair. You got to see me.”

“That was payback – we were quits remember? This is blatant escalation, coming in here -” she suddenly broke off, her eyes narrowing on my chest. “What’s that in your pocket?”

I glanced down. A fold of filmy material was poking out, the lace edging clearly visible. “Uh, where -”

“There.” She darted forward and tried to snatch them out of my pocket but my hand beat her to it, squishing them against my chest. She struggled to unclasp my fingers but after a moment gave up.

“Give them to me, David.”

“Nope.”

“They’re mine.”

“I found them. Finders keepers.”

“What are you going to do with them?” She was angry now.

“Oh, I don’t know. Pin them on my wall… take them to work. Maybe I’ll just sniff them -”

“That’s disgusting!” She regarded me for a moment. “Give them back, David.”

“Say please.”

“No! Give them to me.”

“Ah-ah. Be nice – say please.”

She glowered at me. “Please.”

“You’ll have to do something for me.”

“Like what?”

I pretended to think for a moment. “Oh, I don’t know… wash my car or do all my ironing for a week… or you could drop the towel.”

“You’ve seen it.”

“Not this week. And I get to touch, like you did.”

“No! No touching.”

I regarded her. “Well, that’s not fair, but OK. Just to look, then.”

She stared at me a moment with anger still in her eyes, and then she sort of shrugged a little and stepped back, undoing the towel as she did. “Promise me you won’t touch.”

“I won’t.” My voice was scratchy with excitement.

“OK – well…. there!” She dropped the towel and it pooled at her feet. She was enjoying her power over me.

For the second time in a month I saw my sister stark naked, but this time it was better. I was closer, for one thing – only two or three feet away – close enough to see everything. Not a wrinkle or sag marked her body – it was exquisite, fashioned by a craftsman in long, flowing curves, each complementing the other in perfect proportion. Her breasts were full and round, the flesh a pale milky colour – almost translucent under the glare of the bathroom light. I could see the fine web of veins under the skin, radiating outwards from the dusky pink of her aureole, and her nipples were erect – hard little nubs of flesh like soldiers at attention, betraying her excitement. She loved the attention, the acknowledgement of her beauty. She could have anybody but she wanted to show me.

My eyes roamed over her body like the touch of a lover, lingering on the curves and valleys, past the swell of her hips and sliding over the flat plain of her belly, still damp from the shower, to where her pussy waited. The last time I had seen it there was a little crown of hair above it, neatly trimmed to look like an arrow pointing downwards; now there was nothing. It was shaven clean, her cleft smooth and pink, the lips of her vulva neatly arranged either side. My eyes fastened on it, imagining in an instant how tight it would be and how the clasp of her thighs would feel as they drew me into her centre. She shifted under my gaze and the movement caused her labia to open a touch, the flesh inside her clean and pink and moist. I let out a little sigh.

“OK, buster,” she said. “Now pick your tongue up off the floor and give me back my panties.”

I pulled them from my pocket, my eyes still fixed on her pussy, and I flicked them to the far side of the room. They fell in a little pile of liquid silk against the closed door.

I looked up at her face. The anger had gone and her expression was inscrutable, but there was a gleam of amusement in her eyes together with other emotions… power, perhaps, and mischief, and also excitement. For a moment longer she stood in front of me, her eyes on mine: and then, quite deliberately, she turned her back on me and bent over to pick them up.