Chapter 1 - Wendy's Wish Comes True free porn video

As I hung up the phone, I realized my head was spinning and my pulse was racing. Greg was flying to Seattle on to conduct a series of interviews for an article he was authoring next week, and he wanted to see me. In fact, not only was he going to visit me, he accepted my invitation to stay with me at my one bedroom apartment..

Greg indicated that he would just crash on my couch for the three nights he would be in town. Regardless of where he slept, I was excited about the possibility to reconnecting with him, and possibly resuming some form of a relationship.

I was also quite nervous about his visit, or perhaps scared was a better word.

You see, Greg and I had not spoken in over three years, and that was a brief, three minute phone call I made to wish him Merry Christmas. At the time, he was cordial, but cool towards me.

We had not actually seen each other in nearly seven years, and that was at our grandfather's funeral. During the funeral, we were constantly surrounded by a horde of relatives and family friends. In fact, we had not really been alone since before he left for college, over twenty years ago.

I was well aware that Greg has been avoiding me for over twenty years; and to be honest, his attitude towards me hurt me deeply. For twenty years, I have longed for the companionship that disappeared the day Greg departed for Northwestern University.

You see, Greg was my stepbrother. He was a year and a half older than me. I guess I have had a crush of sorts on my older brother since I can remember.

Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, Greg and I became more intimate than our society dictates siblings should.

Greg's was the first penis I ever saw, either erect or flaccid. It was also the first penis I ever touched, and the first one I saw ejaculate. Or should I say the first one I ever caused to ejaculate? Both statements are true. Greg was also the first boy to touch me below the waist, or to penetrate me with his fingers. He was the first boy with whom I climaxed.

I will reassure you up front, I do not feel these experiences with my step brother harmed me in any way. Today, I am a thirty seven year old divorcee, living in an upscale, one bedroom apartment that overlooks the waterfront in downtown Seattle. I am a successful lawyer at a local law firm. 

I am, by any objective standard, a very attractive woman. I am five foot, nine inches tall, long blonde hair, green eyes, and a slim athletic figure that turns heads. Many have told me that I bear a striking resemblance to Reese Witherspoon. I admit, I do see the resemblance.

Okay, my 34B cup breasts are a little on the small side. But my nipples are perpetually erect. I have to keep my suit jacket on in the office to keep from distracting my male co-workers and clients.

Since my divorce, seven years ago, I have rarely dated. I have focused on my career, with the goal of making partner by the time I am forty. It is a well known fact at my firm that if you do not make partner by the time you turn forty, it is highly unlikely that you will ever become a partner in the firm. The clock was ticking and I had little time for a social life.

However, I have often wondered if the emotional connection I still feel for Greg is partly responsible for the failure of my marriage, and my inability to have a serious long term commitment with other men. I suspect it might.

But I am rambling now. My career aspirations are really tangential to the main reason for me telling my story. This is really a tale of two siblings, who explored the edges of sexual discovery as teenagers, and how each of them reacted to the experiences very differently; and how after decades apart, we were presented with an opportunity to heal old wounds.

As I said, Greg and I have not been close in years. That has been his choosing, not mine. I actually understand why Greg chose to withdraw from me. But despite the fact that I understand Greg's need to distance himself, the loss of our closeness and intimacy has been emotionally painful for me.

The events which caused us to become intimate over twenty years ago were really my fault, not his. Although he was older than me, I was more the instigator than he was. I had recently celebrated my sixteenth birthday, and my figure was blossoming nicely, and I enjoyed teasing him and 'accidentally' exposing myself to him.

While I was timid and unsure of myself around the boys in my school, I felt confident flirting with and teasing my older stepbrother. Perhaps I was emboldened by the fact that, at least initially, I felt safe, knowing that Greg would never try to push our little game further than I wanted. I could tease him, and arouse him and all he would do is stare at me nervously and admiringly. I felt sexy, desirable and powerful. I liked the feeling.

Our parents' master bedroom was downstairs. Greg's and my bedrooms were upstairs and were connected by a 'Jack-and-Jill' bathroom which we shared. Our parents rarely, if ever, ventured up the staircase. If they wanted us, they would shout from the bottom of the stairs for us to come down to them. This meant that we enjoyed a great deal of privacy on our level of the house.

If I am being honest, this privacy emboldened me to be quite the little tease. I would regularly walk past my stepbrother in just my bra and panties, or wearing just a towel after showering. I would leave my bedroom door ajar while I dressed and undressed.

I liked to blow dry my hair, naked in front of the mirror of my vanity with the door open slightly. As a eighteen your old, virile young man, Greg could not seem to resist the temptation to venture by my open door whenever he heard the blow drier. I would catch him looking in at my naked form, studying the reflection of my erect nipples in the mirror.

Usually, I would ignore his gaze and just let him watch. I would pretend that I did not know he was spying on me. My vagina would grow moist, then wet as I sat there, naked, under his gaze. I loved the rush of power and control I felt, knowing that I could captivate and arouse my older stepbrother so easily.

Gradually, I became bolder. After allowing him to study my nakedness for several minutes, I would look up, catch his reflection in the mirror, and smile. I would turn off the hair dryer, stand up slowly and walk to the door, without covering myself.

Smiling, I would say coyly, "I better close this before you get the wrong idea."

I loved seeing the large bulge that was so evident in his pants as I closed the door and ended the show.

I never intended my game of 'show and don't tell' to become physical. I was merely basking in the joy of having the power over my older stepbrother to cause him to stare, open mouthed, admiringly at his little sister's budding breasts and naked buttocks and pubic region and watch his pants bulge so quickly. The power I experienced was simply intoxicating.

Frequently, after exposing myself to him, he would vanish to his room, close and lock his door, and masturbate. I could hear the springs of his bed, squeaking quietly and rhythmically, as he relieved himself. Knowing that I had aroused my older stepbrother to the point of causing him to jack off aroused me as well. I often would rub my little nubbins as I listened to Greg's bed creaking, imagining I could watch him stimulating himself.

I vividly remember the sequence of events that led Greg and I to eventually succumb to the temptations which were luring us so strongly.

It was late February, 1996. Greg was in the final semester of his senior year of high school. I was a year behind him as a junior. It was Saturday afternoon when Greg received his letter informing him that he had been accepted into the journalism program at his dream school at Northwestern University in Illinois.

Mom and Dad took Greg and me out to dinner to celebrate. We returned home a little before ten o'clock. Because of the special occasion, Dad allowed Greg and me to join them in the family room for some alcoholic refreshments. They reasoned that it was far better for Greg and me to get acquainted with the effects of alcohol at home, where we were not out, driving, or on a date, where our judgment would be impaired.

The irony of my father being convinced that his little girl would be perfectly safe from carnal temptations in her own home is still not lost on me. Dad allowed Greg and me to each have three 'Colorado bulldogs', as he called them. They consisted of cream, vodka, Kahlua, and coke. They tasted like a sweet milkshake.

Being almost eighteen, Greg had some experience drinking with his buddies; but at age sixteen, I had not had the opportunity or experience of drinking prior to this night. I did not get drunk, but following the third 'Colorado bulldog', I was feeling light headed, relaxed and uninhibited. I doubt the events that followed would have occurred were it not for Greg's and my lowered inhibitions due to the effects of the alcohol.

It was about eleven thirty when Greg and I ascended the stairs to retire for the night.

Rather than don my pajamas, I opted to sleep in a white t-shirt and my panties. This particular sleeping attire was much more conducive to teasing Greg than my pajamas were. I decided I wanted to visit Greg's room prior to climbing into my bed and trying to masturbate. 

I glanced at myself in the mirror. My erect nipples were very evident under the white cotton material. You could even see the darkness of my areolas. I giggled to myself as I decided I wanted to give Greg a nice erection before bed.

I knocked on Greg's bedroom door, but did not wait to be invited in before entering. The room was illuminated by a night light and the digital clock on his nightstand.

As I opened the door, I was shocked to see his fist furiously pumping his erection under the blanket. He released his cock instantly as his face turned a bright crimson. His hand came flying out from under his blanket as he sat up, trying to hide his erection.

"It's okay. You don't have to stop," I said playfully.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked with a combination of nervousness, shame and perhaps even a bit of excitement. Greg was clearly embarrassed that I knew he was masturbating; yet, there was something about my presence and awareness that excited him. He did not demand that I leave.

"I just wanted to say goodnight to you. I'm going to miss you when you go away to school. I'm sorry if I interrupted anything," I said as I sat on the foot of the bed. "I'd like it if you continued."

I could see the thick outline of his erection under the pale blue blanket. I did not hide that I was staring at his bulging penis. I wanted him to know I knew how hard and erect he was.

"Jesus, Wendy, I can't do that. You're my sister," he protested.

"I know. I just want to watch. I've never seen one erect before. I've certainly never seen a guy do this. I'm curious how you do it. Please?" I cajoled.

"I can't. It'd be too weird."

"I'll show you how I do it. Come on Greg. No one will ever know," I continued to plead.

"How do you do it?" Greg asked, nervously. Clearly, his curiosity was getting the better of him.

"Usually I lie on my tummy, with my hand between my legs, and rub my 'little nubbins' while I squeeze my thighs together. But I want to watch you while I do it, so if you'll let me watch, I'll sit here on your bed and try to do it. I don't know if I can get there this way though."

I could sense that Greg was considering my proposal.

Greg nodded but was still apprehensive. I watched with excitement as he slowly slid his hand back under the cover and grasped his erection in his fist. I could tell by the movement under the blanket that he was stroking his shaft up and down. I sat 'Indian style' in front of him and started gently rubbing tiny circles with my right index finger and middle finger, stimulating my clitoris through the gusset of my panties.

I could feel Greg's eyes as he stared at the now damp gusset of my panties. I glanced down to see the pale green material of my panties turning darker from the lubrication leaking out of me as it folded into the crease of my vulva. I had a definite 'camel toe' appearance that distinctly revealed the shape of my virginal vagina. 

"Greg, this is so hot. " I cooed as I reached up with my left hand and squeezed my nipples.

Once Greg got a rhythm, I reached up and slowly slid down the blanket exposing his erection. Greg had his shaft in his fist and slowly stroked up and down, rocking his hips to and fro as he did it. I sat on the bed watching this demonstration with amazement. I could feel myself grow wetter and wetter as I watched my stepbrother stroke his long rigid shaft up and down within arms reach of me.

"Oh my god, Greg, your cock is huge," I exclaimed with genuine amazement.

I was captivated by the beauty of the purple head straining upward against his downward strokes. I could not help but wonder how a penis that long and that thick could ever fit in any girl’s vagina without tearing her open, hurting her. I quickly concluded that it certainly could not fit inside me without doing a lot of damage. The thought trying to accommodate such a large erection inside me both scared and excited me.

This situation seemed surreal. The combination of the alcohol I had consumed, and the erotic vision of my very first erection had my head spinning. I slid up closer to my stepbrother and placed my hand on his thigh, inches from his hard, throbbing penis.

"Wendy?"

"Shhh! It's okay. I want to do this for you."

I slowly slid my hand over to his penis and replaced his hand. He released his cock as my tiny little fingers encircled the thick veiny shaft.

I held his penis motionless for a moment, studying it. His penis was slightly darker then the skin color of his chest and stomach. It had a darker pinkish-purple hue to it. I estimate that his erection was at least 7 inches long, perhaps longer, and about 1 1/2 or 2 inches thick.

The glans were distinct and almost seemed to be separate from the thickly veined pole on which it sat. The ridge that separated the glands from the base of his cock was intriguing to me.

The thick vein running down the under side was prominently exposed as his erection strained upward toward the ceiling. There were several slightly smaller veins that were visible as they twisted around the thick shaft, giving my stepbrother’s erection a very powerful and threatening appearance. I was very intrigued by my stepbrother’s rigid cock.

His prominent pectoral muscles, shoulders and arms, on top of his nicely tight abdomen framed the rigid penis nicely. Yes, my older stepbrother was a very attractive and sexy man.

His penis felt heavier than I was expecting. Its thickness surprised me. The skin was surprisingly smooth and soft. I did not have any idea how to stimulate Greg. I traced the palm of my hand over the head. Greg seemed to recoil from my touch on the glands and quickly grasped my hand to return it to the shaft.

It seems that the head of my stepbrother’s erection was simply too sensitive for that type of intense contact. I was embarrassed that I was not better at this. Truthfully, I was quite inept initially at stimulating his cock. It was obvious that I was not doing this correctly.

“Tell me what to do. Tell me how to do this for you,” I said, looking into his eyes helplessly.

Greg formed my fingers around his base and moved my hand up and down to show me how to ‘jack him off’. I had never thought of my hands and fingers being small, but wrapped around this thick, heavy shaft, that's exactly how my hand looked, small.

"Like this, Wendy. Just pump your fist up and down like this." 

I began stroking him similar to the way I had seen him pump his cock moments before.

I pumped my fist up and down on his hard cock as he rocked his hips, thrusting his pelvis upward, off the bed as I stroked downward. I quickly got the hang of my very first hand job. I was able to match my rhythm of my strokes to the movement of Greg’s hips.

I felt myself getting aroused by Greg’s growing excitement. I could feel my juices seeping out of me again as Greg’s movements quickened and his moans of pleasure became louder and more intense.

“Is this okay?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Fuck yeah,” was his response.

For a brief moment, I considered kissing his erection, or perhaps placing it in my mouth, but something stopped me. I was not yet ready for the next big step. I wonder even now if I would have agreed to do that if Greg had requested it? I honestly do not know. But I know I did want to please him.

It did not take long for Greg’s movements to become more intense, more frantic. He started to moan as his hips rocked forward to meet the trusts of my fist.

I could see the tiny slit of his urethra at the tip of his boner open slightly as I pulled the skin tight on each down stroke. I was getting quite an education tonight.

Suddenly, he thrust himself forward. His entire body seemed to grow rigid and a grunt emanated from his core. Without further warning, I felt his erection pulse in my fist, and a large rope of white semen erupted from the tiny opening at the tip of his penis. It shot several inches into the air and landed on his abdomen.

His ejaculation happened suddenly and seemed to just appear in the air above his penis. I did not really seeing the white mass leave his penis, it was just suddenly there.

I was awestruck.

With my left hand, I reached inside my panties and furiously rubbed my erect clitoris, triggering my own orgasm. I did not understand what was happening, or why I was reacting as profoundly as I was, but I was caught up in the total eroticism of seeing and touching my first erection; and giving my first hand job. God, I was so friggin’ turned on; I actually felt dizzy with lust.

“Oh, Greg, damn, oh… oh. God.” I moaned as the waves of pleasure quaked across me. My entire body shook and quivered as the waves of pleasure rocked though my vagina. I could feel myself spasm in wave after wave as my vagina seemed to open and close involuntarily forcing my lubrication to seem to squirt out of me, soaking the gusset of my panties. It was the most intense response I had ever experienced.

Greg did not seem to notice my climax; he was too wrapped up in his own orgasm at the moment. I think he attributed my loud moan to my surprise at his semen erupting from his erection; not because I had just cum too.

The appearance of his semen as it shot through the air surprised me, and aroused me. I suddenly was aware of the unique and distinct aroma of my stepbrother’s semen.

I must have momentarily slowed my pumping action as I tried to process all that was happening. Greg was not finished though.

“Don’t stop… don’t stop,” he begged, as a second, slightly smaller string of semen shot from his erection. This time his sperm shot up about an inch and then seemed to dribble down the head of his cock and drip down on my fist.

For the next twenty to thirty seconds, Greg's penis continued to pulse and throb as his orgasm ran its course, but there were no more large eruptions of semen. His supply appeared to be temporarily depleted.

Then he started to pull back, attempting to free his cock from my grasp. Not fully understanding what was happening or what my stepbrother wanted, I did not immediately release his cock from my grip.

“Okay. That’s it… too intense now… let go,” he commanded, pulling free from my fist.

I was surprised to learn that immediately following his orgasm, Greg’s penis became too sensitive and my continued stimulation was unpleasant.

I studied the sticky, milky white goop that hung in long strands from my fingers and back of my hand. As Greg watched, I reached over with my left hand and scooped a glob of the viscous mass from his stomach. It had an unusual texture to it. It was almost translucent, seeming to transform from a cloudy white color to a semi-clear gelatinous mixture before my eyes.

I brought my fingers to my nose and inhaled my stepbrother’s scent. “So this is what your sperm smells like. Very interesting. I think I like this smell.”

“I never really noticed the smell of my sperm,” Greg responded, somewhat embarrassed to be discussing this intimate topic with his younger stepsister.

I inhale the scent again, deeply drawing the erotic aroma into my nostrils. "Greg, this definitely has a unique and very erotic smell. I like your scent. I like it a lot."

He did not respond. I glanced at the gelatinous mess puddled across his belly and lower abdomen. I liked that I was responsible for the large volume of semen on Greg's stomach.

I stood up, and said simply, “I better clean up a bit. You made quite a mess. Don't move, I'll be back with a warm wash cloth to clean you up.”

I went to the sink between out bedrooms, and washed the sperm from my hand and wrist. I returned moments later with a warm, damp wash cloth and wiped the sperm from my older stepbrother's belly and took his semi-hard penis in my hand and wiped it clean.

Immediately, Greg's cock grew hard in my hand as I wiped it. Greg moaned appreciably as I stroked him up and down.

"You want to go again?" I asked.

"Uh huh, please."

I sat on the edge of the bed, and pumped his erection.

"It's okay if you want to touch me while I do this," I encouraged.

That night I masturbated Greg twice and he felt me up and touched my vagina on the outside of my panties. He was too timid to try to remove my panties or finger me. All that would come later.

After Greg's second orgasm, I returned to my room and masturbated again. That evening forever changed my life, as well as Greg's and my relationship.

For the next six months, until Greg left for college in August, 1996, Greg and I explored and pleasured each other. We touched, probed, masturbated and even licked and sucked each other in a taboo journey of sexual discovery; but we never actually had intercourse.

Greg never initiated any of our encounters. He never came to my room to play. Rather, I would expose myself to him, and come into his room at night. Greg routinely expressed concern about what we were doing. I would touch him or tell him he could touch me, and Greg would say, "Wendy, we shouldn't be doing this."

"Do you want me to stop?" I would ask coyly, as his penis would grow erect in my hand.

"I don't know... no, I guess not... fuck, I don't know."

"You can touch me too," I would add, tempting him.

I am certain that I would have allowed Greg to steal my virginity, if he had been so inclined. But he never attempted to mount me. But we experimented in virtually every other way. We became quite adept at pleasing each other. Greg quickly learned how to make me climax with his fingers and mouth. Greg always achieved an orgasm as well. My orgasm frequently triggered his.

But after achieving our respective orgasms our reactions were quite different. Greg would want to separate from me, whereas I wanted to cuddle and snuggle.

And despite the fact that he always agreed to our sexual interaction, Greg seemed to be overwhelmed with shame and guilt after achieving his orgasm.

On the other hand, I basked in the glow of our mutual sexual discovery. Even now, twenty years later, if it was not for the fact that these events cost me my relationship with my stepbrother, I would cherish these memories of discovery.

After Greg left for college, we never were intimate again. Even during Christmas holidays, Greg rebuked my overtures to rekindle our intimacies. I remember him telling me, "Wendy, this isn't right. We can't do this any more. I am sorry I ever did any of this to you. I hope you can forgive me."

My efforts to convince him that I wanted this as much as he did, and that he didn't do anything wrong to me were unsuccessful. He would lock his door to keep me from sneaking into his room at night and tempting him.

I felt humiliated, hurt, abandoned and rejected. I had given myself, heart and soul, to my stepbrother and rather than cherish my gift, he rejected and refused it. It was a pain I carried for twenty years.

But now Greg was going to come to visit and stay with me. Why the sudden and unexpected change in his attitude? Regardless of whether or not Greg wanted to resume our teenage intimacies, I was thrilled at the prospect at having any relationship with my stepbrother.

In the days leading up to Greg's arrival, my mind and thoughts were all over the place. I kept trying to convince myself that this was an innocent visit by my stepbrother, nothing more. Nonetheless, I found myself shopping for a new outfit, as well as flattering, but appropriate silk night gown and robe to wear around the apartment during Greg's visit.

The day of his arrival, I shaved my vulva and was extra meticulous with my make up. I cannot deny it, I wanted Greg to at least acknowledge to himself that I had aged well and was attractive.

I wore my long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and had on a form fitting pair of jeans and a tan t-shirt. I glanced at myself in the mirror and I liked the image I saw. I could not help notice my nipples were erect and evident under my bra.

It was a little after four o'clock on Sunday afternoon when I saw Greg exit through security at Sea-Tac airport. He wore a black sports coat, black sports shirt, and light gray dress slacks. It was obvious that he took care of himself. His broad shoulders tapered to a firm narrow waist. His dark hair was showing the first traces of gray around the temples.

Greg's face lit up upon seeing me, and a broad smile came across his face. I cannot explain how much it meant to me to know that he was genuinely glad to see me after all these years. Greg set down his bag, hugged me warmly, picked me up and spun me around.

"Wendy, you look wonderful. It's been too long."

"Yes, it has. And you look great yourself. How is Linda?" I asked about his wife of fourteen years. Greg's face dropped.

"Linda and I have separated. She has asked me for a divorce," Greg answered as his voice cracked.

"Oh, Greg, I am so sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"It's a long story. I'll tell you all about it over dinner. Can I take you out to eat?"

"Sure, what are you in the mood for?"

"I understand you have some good seafood here in Seattle?"

"That we do. Let's go back to my apartment, drop off your bags, and we can walk to Anthony's Pier 66. It's on the water and has some of the best seafood in Seattle. And you can tell me what happened between Linda and you," I suggested.

Greg and I made small talk for the twenty five minute drive north on I-5 towards downtown Seattle. It was a little after five thirty when we pulled into the basement garage of my apartment building. I unlocked the door to my eleventh floor apartment, and Greg walked in. Setting his bag and computer case behind the couch, he immediately walked to the large sliding glass doors that led to my balcony, which overlooked Puget Sound.

"Wendy, this is a spectacular view. This is simply gorgeous. I had no idea that you had such a fantastic view."

"Thank you. You should visit more often." I regretted the comment as soon as I said it. I feared my reference to the fact that Greg had been avoiding me for twenty years might make him feel awkward. It didn't.

"I plan to do just that."

We walked three blocks down a steep decline to the waterfront to Anthony's Pier 66. Since it was not yet seven o'clock on a Sunday evening, the restaurant was not crowded and we were seated by a window by the water.

I ordered salmon and a glass of merlot. Greg ordered the clam chowder, the halibut, and a draft beer.

"Well, tell me what happened between you and Linda. I thought you two were solid. Were you running around or something?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"No, quite the opposite. Linda became involved with a younger guy she works with. She's the one who wants out of the marriage," Greg replied, his eyes tearing up slightly as he spoke.

"Oh Greg, I am so sorry," I said as I took his hand in my in an innocent attempt to comfort him.

Over the next hour Greg told me how his wife and he had grown apart over the past few years. I felt a level of empathy for him that I had not previously experienced. I wanted to hug him, and hold him.

After dinner, we walked back to my apartment. I poured myself another glass of merlot, my third. Greg opened the bottle of Chivas Regal that I purchased for him and poured himself a double scotch rocks. We went out on the patio to watch the sun set over Puget Sound.

We sat on two padded lounge chairs, sipping our drinks, enjoying the breeze and sipping our drinks.

"You know, it's strange, Wendy, I find you so easy to talk to. I regret the fact I did not remain closer to you."

"I regret that too. I really do. I guess I understand why, but it hurt me to have you withdraw from me the way you did. I guess I have no one to blame but myself," I said. I could feel tears forming in my eyes as I spoke.

"No, it was not your fault. Not at all. On the contrary, I was ashamed of what I did to you. I couldn't face you. I just couldn't forgive myself," Greg confessed.

"Greg, I was the cause of what happened when we were kids, not you."

"No, I was your older brother. You were just a kid. I should have stopped it."

"Greg, I wanted it. I initiated it. Not you."

"Wendy, do you regret it now? I mean, looking back twenty years, do you regret what we did?"

"Honestly, that is a tough question. I regret that it caused us to drift apart. If I knew that it was going to cost me my relationship with you for the next twenty years, I never would have initiated our intimacies. But, if you didn't feel the way you seem to, I wouldn't regret it at all," I said honestly.

"Really? You don't wish you had discovered those things with someone more appropriate? Perhaps a boy you thought you were in love with and whom you thought was in love with you?"

"Greg, you can be such a dolt at times. I did experience those things with someone I loved and who I thought loved me, you."

I paused for a moment to consider my next works carefully. Perhaps it was my third glass of wine that gave me the courage to ask the next question, or perhaps it was simply I needed better answers to why Greg withdrew from me, but I continued, "Why do you regret what we did so much? I mean we just explored the edges, like a couple of teenagers are apt to do. We didn't even 'seal the deal'. And you didn't even initiate it?"

Greg looked out over the water, and took a long sip of his scotch before answering, "I always thought it might really hurt you, that you might regret what we were doing."

"Greg, I don't regret it... it didn't hurt me... what hurt me was losing our relationship, losing you from my life. That's what really hurt me," I interrupted.

"Wendy, let me finish," Greg admonished.

"Okay," I nodded.

"Wendy, there is more to the reason I felt like I needed to distance myself from you." He paused for an uncomfortable amount of time as I waited for him to continue. Finally he did. "I was afraid that sooner or later I would give in to my desires. I wanted to make love to you; using your phrase, I was afraid that sooner or later we'd 'seal the deal'...and I knew that would hurt you. I knew if we kept playing around the edges, as you say, sooner or later we would have intercourse."

I took his hand in mine and said, "Would that have been so horrible? I mean, assuming we had taken the proper precautions?"

"I felt that if I stole your virginity, it would do you irreparable harm."

"Greg, you need to understand that even if we had done that, I would not have regretted it. I wanted that too. I wanted you to be my first. You could not have stolen my virginity. I truly wanted to give it to you. I wanted you to have it. Even today, I wish you had been my first rather than that asshole, Martin Sullivan. Talk about a mistake that I regret."

Greg looked at me with disbelief, as though he could not understand what I was saying.

I continued, "Greg, I used to masturbate fantasizing about you being my first. In fact, on occasion, I still do. You need to let yourself 'off the hook' on this one. You did not hurt me by the intimacies we shared. You hurt me by abandoning me for the past twenty years."

Greg took another drink and seemed unsure of what to say, so I went on, "Greg, I loved you. And it hurt deeply to lose you from my life."

I started to cry.

Greg set his drink down on the table between our chairs and stood in front of me. He took my hand, and pulled me into a standing position and hugged me firmly. "I am so sorry that I that I ran and hid. I promise it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," I sobbed, my tears were soaking his shirt as he held me. The hug was not sexual, but it was loaded with affection and emotion.

He held me for thirty or forty seconds as I cried quietly in his arms. Suddenly, I was surprised when I felt his penis throb to life against my abdomen. I was not even certain that I had felt what I thought I had. But then I felt it again. I was not mistaken, as my stepbrother held me, and as I cried in his arms, he was growing aroused. His penis was pulsing and growing hard!

What the hell was I supposed to do now?

I felt his erection pulse a third time. Confused, I decided to ignore the fact that my stepbrother's cock started throbbing to attention the moment he held me in his arms. I was afraid if I acknowledged his erection, it would spook him and he would flee from my life once again. So I pretended I was unaware of the large cock throbbing against me.

After a moment, I broke off our embrace and, standing on my toes, I reached up, wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him an innocent peck on the cheek. "Greg, you're sweet. I'm sorry I am such a drama queen, crying and all."

"I think I am going to take the morning off tomorrow. I don't have any meetings until the afternoon," I advised. "What time do you have be at the office?"

"The first interview starts ten o'clock, so I don't have too early of a start. I have a series of interviews through Wednesday afternoon."

"Okay, let's have one more drink together on the balcony before turning in," I suggested.

The clock in the kitchen flashed 9:37 p.m.

I really did not need a fourth glass of wine. Two, sometime three, is my usual limit. But I did not want this evening to end. So I poured myself my last nightcap.

Greg followed me into the kitchen and poured another double scotch rocks. We returned to the balcony,

"Wendy, I have a bit of a confession," Greg said as we stepped back on the balcony.

"And what might that be?" I asked cautiously.

"You know what you said earlier, about what you used to think about when you masturbate?"

I felt my pulse quicken as I stammered, "You mean about me imagining you were my first?"

"Uh huh. I have the same fantasy. In fact, I still think about that sometimes. Or sometimes I remember that first night when you came in my room. Remember?"

"How can I forget. It is one of my most cherished memories," I answered truthfully.

"Do you remember the first time you had an orgasm with me?" Greg asked. He was clearly becoming more and more comfortable resurrecting these forbidden memories.

"I don't think you even know the first time I had an orgasm with you?" .

"I don't?" he answered nervously.

"Nope. You're thinking about the first time you penetrated me with your fingers, aren't you?" I teased.

"You faked that one? You didn't climax that time?" he replied with disappointment.

"No silly. I never faked cumming with you. But that wasn't the first time I climaxed with you. I climaxed that first night in your room when I masturbated you. I got so excited when I saw you ejaculate that I came with you. But you were too caught up with your own orgasm to notice."

"You did? Why didn't you tell me you climaxed?"

"I don't know. I guess I was embarrassed. Silly, huh?" I finished my wine and stood up. "Greg, I am very glad you are here. I've had too much to drink and need to get ready for bed. Promise me that you won't let years go by without us seeing each other?"

"I promise."

I went into my bedroom and put on my new night gown. It was flattering, but not obscene. The white silk material came down to my mid-thigh. It was fairly low cut so it showed a fair amount of cleavage. I elected to go without panties.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My nipples were plainly visible through the clingy silk material. You could see the darkness of my areolas through the white silk. I toyed with donning the matching robe, but decided that the night gown was not too inappropriate for me to wear in front of my step brother. It was sexy, but not obscene. Besides, even if he did not act on it, I wanted Greg thinking about his baby sister tonight.

I returned to the living room with a sheet, a blanket and two pillows. Greg's smile indicated he appreciated my sleeping attire. He was still nursing his drink on the couch and had not begun to undress. I showed Greg the half bath that was accessible from the living room.

"Greg, you can use my shower any time while you are here. Make yourself comfortable." I paused for a moment, took a deep breath and added, "If you are uncomfortable out here on the couch, or if you get lonely, I have a queen-sized bed. I won't be offended if you choose to join me at any time while you are here. I'm not pushing myself on you. I just want you to know you are welcome, if you want."

Greg nodded, but did not say anything. I assumed that sharing my bed was not something my stepbrother was up for, and I decided that was not going to tempt him further. I made that mistake twenty years ago, and it cost me my relationship with him.

Above all else, I was not about to jeopardize the progress he and I had made tonight restoring some semblance of a relationship. If Greg did not want our relationship to involve any physical intimacies, I could accept that.

I left him and went into my bedroom. I left the door slightly ajar. I climbed into bed. I thought about masturbating, but decided against it. The four glasses of wine allowed me to drift off to sleep rather quickly.

I had been asleep about an hour when I was awakened by Greg quietly climbing into my bed. It was dark and I could not see clearly, but his presence was unmistakable. I had been sleeping in the fetal position, and was hugging a pillow into my stomach when Greg climbed behind me and moved into spoon me.

Without moving, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It read 12:51. I pretended to remain asleep and remained silent, waiting to see what he was going to do. Was he here to merely hold me and cuddle? Or was he looking for something more? I was receptive to either alternative. I welcomed the closeness and contact, wherever it might lead.

We were both laying on our right sides. Greg wrapped his left arm around my shoulder. I felt myself stiffen, unsure about what was about to happen, and unsure of the potential consequences. Greg's hand rested on my shoulder for a moment before slowly tracing its way to my breast and erect nipple. I could feel my heart pounding furiously in my chest.

I pressed my butt backwards and Greg arched his hips. I could feel his erection pressing into my buttocks. Greg teased my left nipple for several seconds, evoking a quiet moan of approval from me. I reached back with my left hand and gently massaged his muscular thigh as he slowly humped against my ass.

With my hand massaging his thigh, my forearm was resting on his hip. I could feel that he still had on his boxer shorts. I resisted the urge to reach between us and grasp his penis. I would allow my stepbrother to advance this as slowly as he liked. Unlike when we were teenagers and I teased him and tempted him to do things he later came to regret, this time he would have to take the lead. If he wanted me tonight, he would have to take me.

Greg slid his hand inside the bra of my night gown, accessing my bare nipple. I reached up and lowered the strap of my gown, to allow him full access to my breast.

He began to fondle my nipple as I tried to stifle my moan.

Greg slowly started to move his hand away from my breast, sliding his hand down my flat, tight stomach. I grabbed his hand and held it, preventing him from reaching his target.

I felt dizzy, confused, unsure of what to do; or what I should do. "Greg, are you sure about this?"

"Do you want me to stop?" Greg asked.

"No. I never have had any doubts about what I wanted; not since I was sixteen. I have wanted this for so long. I just don't want to lose you from my life again because of this. Are you sure about this? " I said with a quiver in my voice. I do not know why, but I started to cry silently.

"I think so. If you are sure this will not harm you, I want to share this with you," he replied.

"Okay, but remember, you promised not to disappear from my life again because of this," I said as a slowly released his hand.

"I promise you that I will never abandon you again."

I released his hand and Greg found the hem of my gown and slowly slid his hand underneath to explore the area between my thighs. My stepbrother quickly discovered that I was not wearing any panties and that my vagina was shaved, wet and unprotected.

He found the wet opening of my vulva and from there, his fingers move up slightly where he discovered my stiff and erect clitoris. I could not help but moan as he gently rubbed my clit. I parted my legs slightly to allow him better access. His penis pulsed harder into my backside. 

It had been months - many months - since I had been with a man, or been touched like this. I was responding like a woman who had been starved sexually. 

I wanted - no, actually, I needed - his touch. His fingers moved from my clitoris to my vaginal opening, and he inserted two fingers inside of me. From this angle, reaching around in front of me from behind me, he was only able to enter me a couple of inches but he was stimulating the opening of my vagina.

My vagina was opening, dilating wider and wider. His fingers and my vulva were making a distinct sloshing sound, making my lubrication leak out of me. 

I was clutching my pillow while rocking my hips and moaning. Greg removed his fingers briefly and rolled me on my back. He then climbed between my legs and opened my vulva again with his fingers. He had a completely unobstructed view of my vaginal opening. From this position and this angle, his fingers were able to penetrate me much more deeply. 

Greg soon had two fingers inside me. His fingers were curled forward, rubbing the front wall of my vagina, touching my g-spot, driving me closer and closer to my orgasm. I was hugging the pillow to my chest, moaning loudly as I humped against his probing fingers buried deep inside me. I knew I was going to cum, and I needed my release.

After several minutes of taking me to the brink, Greg suddenly withdrew his fingers from my pussy, and stood up. I had been on the verge of a massive climax, just moments away from cumming violently with Greg's fingers inside me. I cried out in frustrated desperation as he removed his fingers.

I wanted to cum; I needed to cum. I wanted him to finish the job he had started. I cried out in frustration, "Oh fuck, don't stop. Please, touch me... I am so close... please finish me off..." my voice shaking in frustrated excitement.

I lay there panting, my breasts heaving; frustrated by being so close, but denied my release by my stepbrother. Despite the fact that Greg was no longer touching me, I continued rockingTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.