Stopping at the door, she turned and with a thoughtful look, just said, “Maybe.” Then she was gone. And that was the last I saw of my twin sister, Jenny, for eight long weeks, until the first week in July, just fifteen days before our seventeenth birthday.
Each day since she had left had seemed like a lifetime of utter misery. Even now, nine years later, it feels as if it was only yesterday that I sat there in my room waiting in nervous anticipation for her return. It’s said that a watched clock travels more slowly; it was certainly so that Sunday morning.
I’d awoken early from a restless sleep, caused by the excitement of Jenny’s pending return and by a slight pain I was suffering in my arms, following the removal of plaster casts three weeks earlier. I’d got dressed in readiness, but as I watched the slow progress of the clock, I felt myself drifting in and out of sleep, until floating through my dreams came the sound of Jenny’s ethereal giggles, somewhere below. She was home.
Of course, I didn’t want to seem too eager; I didn’t want her to know that I’d spent every waking minute of the last few weeks thinking about her, but I could hardly contain my excitement as I rushed to my bedroom door. And yet, as I clutched at the door handle, I froze. What am I doing? Will Jenny want to see me? What does she think of me? Does she hate me? Question after question filled my mind, with no obvious answers to be found. This is crazy, I thought. This girl is my sixteen year old, twin sister.
Taking deep breaths and calming myself the best I could, I sauntered downstairs to see her sat on the sofa chatting with our parents. “Hi Jen,” I said, with fake nonchalance.
No words came back, just a beaming smile, as she leapt to her feet and ran towards me with outstretched arms, which she flung around my neck, before kissing me on both cheeks. “Hello shorty,” she screamed.
Just in that short space of time since I’d last seen her, she’d grown by a couple of inches, and as I clasped her tight to my body, I felt her budding, warm breasts and slender body push against me. She’d lost weight, too. Pulling back a little, she blew her straw-blonde hair away from her face, and flashed me those beautiful, blue eyes. And her scent, it was wonderful, just like fresh strawberries on a summer’s day.
“Have you missed me, then?” she said with a sly giggle, and a wink.
“No, of course not,” I snapped, coyly. Although, I think the fact that my arms were still wrapped around her, and holding her tight around the waist, gave it away that I had.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my mother raise an eyebrow. “Come on you two. What’s all this soppy stuff,” she said.
“Yeah, get off me,” I shouted, pushing Jenny back, fearful that we might be suspected.
If time had travelled slowly waiting for Jenny’s return, it was as nothing compared with the interminable wait for the sun to go down. Not once, throughout the day, had I had chance to be alone with her, so as I climbed into bed I listened intently for soft footfalls outside my door. I waited, all night I waited, but nothing came; no sound, no turning of the door handle, no Jenny.
It was not until the next day that I first had the opportunity to talk with her alone. She was already up and having breakfast, when I approached.
“Morning shorty,” she said, eyes sparkling.
“What’s going on, Jen?” I snapped back. “Why didn’t you come to my room last night.”
“What? Why would I have?” she replied, quizzically.
“Well, errr, I thought we’d do, you know, what we did last time you were here.”
She looked almost mystified, as if she had absolutely no idea of what I was talking about, but then I noticed a flushed look about her, a look of embarrassment, as her eyes fell downward into the bowl of cereal she’d been eating.
“Oh, that,” she whispered in a lost voice. “Listen, we should never have done that. It went too far. I was only helping you masturbate because you couldn’t do it for your self, not with your hands all smashed up like that. It was just me helping you, okay. That’s all it was.”
“No Jenny, it was more than that. I loved it, and you did too.” I replied in a shocked, unbelieving voice. “Anyway, I thought you had problems with having an orgasm, so couldn’t I help you with that?”
“Yes, that’s a problem, but it’s not the same thing,” she snapped back.
With that, she got to her feet, pushed by me, and ran upstairs. Of course, I ran after her, but was stopped in my tracks by her bedroom door slamming in my face. From behind it, I could hear her sobs. “Go away, leave me alone,” she cried.
“What the hell is going on with you two,” came a voice over my shoulder. It was my father. “You don’t usually fight like this. I’m disappointed in the both of you.”
Much to my annoyance, he had decided to take the next three weeks as a vacation from work. He wanted to spend ‘quality’ time with us. Unfortunately, this meant that my opportunities to be alone with Jenny were few and far between.
Each passing day brought more and more frustration. Whenever I tried to speak with her or catch her alone, she ignored me and walked away. Not being able to sleep properly, I’d started to look gaunt and dishevelled, and I was even beginning to fear for my sanity. But then, just as I was thinking I could take no more, a chance presented itself.
It was the Friday after Jenny’s homecoming. Our parents had booked tickets for us to see Mission Impossible II, and all four of us were in the car, heading for the cinema. About half way through the forty minute journey, I looked across at Jenny, there in the back seat, to my left. Her silhouette was framed in a dim light that grew as my eyes adjusted. Again, and again, I marvelled at her beauty. One of the most enchanting things about Jenny is that she’s never understood just how beautiful she is.
As I looked at her more intently, I noticed how the hem of her pale green, summer dress had ridden up slightly, exposing about half the length of her athletic thighs. She was dozing, resting her head against the side window of the car. This was my chance, the opportunity I’d waited for.
Reaching across with my left hand, I lightly ran my fingers up and down the smooth skin of her inner right thigh, stopping each time just an inch or so from her panties. Lost in the moment, I didn’t even register that she had awoken from her light sleep and was now looking at me. Then, suddenly, I was all too aware of her glare. With a fearful rage in her eyes, she shook her head from side to side at me, and silently mouthed the words, “No, we can’t. Please. Please don’t.”
By then, her legs had closed around my hand, halting my upward advances, but there was still enough room to make little, circular movements on her inner thigh, just a few inches above her knee. This was clearly a sensitive spot for her, because as I watched, I saw her swallow hard and bite her lower lip, her face contorted with forbidden pleasure. Trying her best to contain her muffled gasps, she began to squirm under my touch, and slowly, very slowly, to part her legs.
Continuing the circular movement of my fingers, I slid my hand further up my sister’s soft, warm thigh, until finally I felt the wet material of her cotton panties under my touch. Her eyes and mouth widened, as I brushed my fingers over the contours of her gushing slit, and then circled her clitoris through her knickers. Already drenched in Jenny’s hot juices, my fingers rubbed harder, and harder, until I slid them down the left side of her bulging pussy lips to locate the edge of the panty material. But no matter how I tried, I could not hook my finger underneath to pull them to one side.
“You two are quiet back there. Is everything alright?” came my mother’s voice from the front seat, as she started to turn around to look at us.
“Yeah, fine,” Jenny and I shouted in unison, while I quickly pulled my hand out from under her dress.
Even now, watching Mission Impossible II gives me a raging erection.
Stupidly, perhaps, I thought the incident in the car would make Jenny realise that there was no stopping our destiny, but instead it just seemed to make her colder towards me. On the Monday following the incident, she asked our parents if she could sleep over at her best friend, Molly’s house for a few nights, and they agreed. Again, my plans were thwarted.
Not until the next Friday did Jenny return, but as she walked through the front door that evening she seemed in a far better mood than when I’d last seen her; I’d go as far as to say that she was pleased to see me.
“What you been doing then, shorty pants?” she said with a grin.
“Not much,” I replied. “And stop calling me that.”
“I’m only teasing,” she continued. “Don’t get all upset. Hey, guess what, Molly told me that she thinks you’re cute and she wants me to set you up on a date with her. How about that?”
“No way, I’m not dating her,” I snapped back. “Let’s change the subject. I want to talk about what happened in the car last week.”
Jenny’s eyes immediately dropped to the ground. “I want to forget it. Please don’t go on. You shouldn’t have touched me like that.”
“But why? I just want to make you happy, Jen. Did you cum when I touched you?” I urged in a low voice, desperate to know.
“Okay, if I tell you, then you must stop talking about it. No, I didn’t cum, but I was very close, and if you hadn’t have stopped when you did, then I don’t know what would have happened.”
“Then let me help you, Jen,” I pleaded, looking at her intensely.
“No, don’t look at me.”
Tears were welling up in her eyes, along with a sadness that broke my heart, as she silently bowed her head, turned from me, and left the room.
It was another long, sleepless night, hoping and waiting for Jenny to appear at my bedroom door, but still she did not come. Looking back now, I see that night as a turning point in my life; it was the point at which I decided that I would be in control of my own destiny. From that moment onwards, life would no longer just be something that happened to me; it would, instead, be in my grasp.
Saturday dragged by, but I busied myself, and made sure I kept out of Jenny’s way. I think my cool attitude came as a surprise to her, because more than once she tried to engage me in conversation, without success; if she was going to play hot and cold with me, then I was going to do the same with her.
It was late in the evening when she confronted me coming out of the bathroom. “Why are you being funny with me?” she asked, softly. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. I never, ever wanted to do that. I love you.”
“Yeah, whatever Jennifer,” I sneered, pushing her to one side and heading to my room.
I’d hoped she would follow me, but it was not to be; there was no quiet tapping on the door. I’m not ashamed to say that, at that very point, I sat on my bed, placed my head in my hands and began to cry. It seemed as if I’d never feel the warmth of her touch again.
No, no, I thought, this is not how it’s going to end; I’m going to take control of this.
For the next couple of hours myriad thoughts raced through my mind, until at just after 2pm I finally made the decision that I was going to go to Jenny’s room.
Out on the landing, as I crept forward, I could see a thin slip of light shinning from under her door. Stepping closer, being careful not to let the floorboards creak, I listened for any noise coming from within. There was nothing. My heart was pounding so hard that I thought it would explode from my chest, as I reached for the door handle to her room and gently turned it. I’d done it; I was now past the point of no return. Pushing the door open, I could see Jenny asleep on her bed, the covers tossed to one side. Her light blue, cotton T-shirt had ridden up around her waist, revealing a tiny pair of panties; a red pair that I’d masturbated over many times. An open book lay across her breasts, with her left hand covering it. Her right hand dangled lazily between her thighs.
By that point my penis was already straining to be released, so I popped it from my pyjamas, as I stood looking down at the vision of beauty that was my sister. A second of hesitation was soon overtaken by my desire, as I started to masturbate. Faster and faster, I pulled at myself, while flicking my eyes back and forth over her limp body, savouring every bit of it.
“Jenny, Jenny,” I called, trying to contain myself.
Her eyes opened just as I began to ejaculate, sending peals of semen flying over her legs and panties, and up over the book she was clutching. Expecting a caustic rebuke, I braced myself, but she said nothing. Instead, she just reached up with her left hand and took hold of my flagging penis. She smiled at me: a loving, caring, smile.
What came next was just incredible. With her right hand, still dripping with my cum, she reached inside the waistband of her panties and slid it down. As she did so, she flung her legs open wide, so that I had a clear view of her finger movements behind the soaking material. Although I could see nothing but outlines, I imagined the sight of my sister’s fingers, covered in my sticky cum, thrusting deep inside her. It was an image that brought me back to an erect state almost immediately. Similar to what she’d done only a few weeks before, she was soon wanking me in time with her own masturbatory movements. Then, looking up at me with those big blue eyes, and fluttering her long eyelashes, she sat up and lent forward. At that moment it dawned on me; my sister was going to wank me off into her mouth. It was almost impossible to hold back, as I watched her pouty, pink lips part and her tongue stretch out to lick the tip of my penis, while she continued a rhythmic pumping of my shaft. Letting her lips slip back and forth over my bulging sex-head, she kept up the hand movement until I could hold out no longer. Looking down, I watched as my semen poured onto her waiting tongue, before she took my cock fully into her hot, aqueous mouth.
Falling back onto her bed, my cum trickling down the side of her face, I watched as she increased the speed of her fingers, while clutching hold of her duvet, pulling it up to her mouth and biting on it hard. Her eyes rolled back in her head, almost as if she was having a convulsive fit, while her bottom jerked up and down on the bed in time with her finger movements. Wave after wave of orgasmic rapture broke over her tender body, as she arched her back and squealed with the ecstasy of release.
Reaching forward, I pulled at the waistband of her panties, but Jenny grabbed my hand and pulled it away. “No, no more. This has to stop,” she said in an exhausted voice, trying to catch her breath. “Get out, please, get out of my room…”
Hurt by her rejection, I turned and did as she asked. And I suppose, that at that moment, I truly believed that we’d never take things any further.
It was Sunday, the day before our seventeenth birthday. By the time I awoke the sun was already high in the sky. Looking out of my bedroom window, I could see Jenny sat under the apple tree that stood at the centre of my parents’ lawn; she was reading the book she had with her the night before. Dressing quickly, I ran downstairs and out into the garden.
“Morning, Jen. You okay?” I asked in a happy, but concerned voice.
“Yeah,” she replied, not peering up from her book. “But you must promise never to come into my room again like that. I love you, but you’re my brother, and this must stop now.”
“But I want you, Jen. I want you more than anything,” I replied. “I love you, Jen.”
In her eyes, I could…
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