Wild Sex Tales(Erotica)

“Well, as long as we’re being honest, there is this other girl I sometimes think about,” I said, “She’s very pretty. Gorgeous, honestly. And her body is like, wow. She’s really hot.”

Lucy looked down at herself, dubiously. “Not too fat?” she asked.

“Oh my God, no,” I said immediately. “She’s practically fucking perfect.”

“Wow,” Lucy said. She breathed it out in a little sigh. Almost like one of the sounds she’d make when she was about to peak.

“Anyway, I know I shouldn’t but…”

“It’s OK,” Lucy said, “I get it.

“Like you said, it’s hard not to,” I said, “In the moment. You’re there, you know? Feeling you bump against me. Hearing your little noises. It’s kinda awesome, actually.”

“Kind of?” Lucy asked, but I could see she was teasing. “You sure you wouldn’t rather a certain skinny brunette?”

“I prefer blondes,” I said. A pause. “Are you OK with that? I know it’s wrong and all, but.”

“I’m fine with it,” Lucy said. She put her hand on mine. Just that little touch felt electric. “As long as you’re OK with me doing it, too.”

“Yeah,” I said, “Yes. I’m OK with that.”

Everything seemed settled. The next day went on as normal. Even that night, when we held our regular pressing session, it was like nothing had changed.

But when Lucy reached her apex, she gasped out. “Oh Dylan,” she said, “So good.”

Then dropped limp to the floor.

*

And so, we started talking.

Again, never outside our little meetups. We didn’t get flirty in the kitchen or tease each other in front of the TV. But when we’d press, it was like one long running conversation. Whether we were talking to ourselves or communicating with each other I can’t say for sure. But we became downright chatty as we made ourselves cum.

“Oh, that’s the spot. Right there,” Lucy said.

“Fuck that’s nice,” I said, “So good.”

“Gonna cum… So close,” Lucy said.

“Ah… cumming…” I said.

Nothing else changed.

There were times when I wished for more. I imagined Lucy taking her shirt off, her massive tits trembling as she took herself to paradise. I thought about grabbing her hand when I came. Or, for that matter, us giving up on the floor and grinding against each other.

These were passing thoughts, fast fantasies, that usually disappeared immediately post-press. Despite our daily actions, the things we said to each other, I kept Lucy filed safely away in my ‘sister’ folder. I was unable to imagine ever storing her under a different category.

Summer stretched languid around us. Dad, Mom, and our older sister Jan all got busy with work. Our younger sister Lindsay disappeared all day to be with her friends. Family dinners were few and far between. Lucy and I mostly hung out with each other.

The next step was probably inevitable.

“Fuck that feels so good,” Lucy said as she pressed down on her pillow. We were back in my older sister’s bedroom, doing what we did best — getting ourselves off while we got on with each other.

“You like that?”

“Oh yes,” Lucy said, “Oh Dylan you have no idea. How good this makes me feel.”

“I’d be damn better than a pillow,” I said.

“And I’m sure I’m much more than a floor,” Lucy said, “You want that? Feel my body — AH! — beneath you?”

“So soft and warm,” I said, “Your breasts. That ass.”

“So hard,” Lucy said, “Aching. Thrusting. OH! Oh Dylan. I’m getting close. You gonna let your big sister cum for you?”

“Please. I’m there, too. Let go. I want to see it. Feel it. Feel you cum.”

“Oh OH! Oh yes!” Lucy shook. Shuddered.

As if her orgasm sparked mine, the pleasure overwhelmed me. Hot spurts shooting down my leg.

“Oh, fuck that was good,” Lucy said.

She rolled over and kissed me on the top of the head.

It was shocking, that sudden contact. Like another wall had been broken through. I swear I could smell the dusty, chipped plaster as my sister busted through yet another barrier.

I rolled over to look at her. I’m sure she saw the shock in my face. Instead, my older sister shrugged.

“Just thanking you,” Lucy said.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“If you say so,” Lucy said, and she winked my way.

I started to get up. Flopped back. Like I said, that hardwood floor was incongruently comfy after an explosive orgasm. I imagined a pointy rock might feel the same at that point, honestly. That was the thing about cumming, everything around me felt soft and welcoming. My mind, however, became far sharper.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

Again, Lucy shrugged.

“No, seriously, what is this?”

“Fun,” Lucy said, as if it were obvious.

“So, we keep doing it,” I said.

“At least till we go back to school in the Fall,” Lucy said, “Why not? You have something better to do?”

I had to concede that I did not. The friends that I might want to talk to had all gone off to their lives. The people I very much did not want to see were right outside our front door. It was too easy to feel trapped by a bunch of circumstances that were out of my control.

Lucy seemed to be feeling the same thing. She sat down next to me, leaning back on her bed frame.

“Look, the past year has been so hard,” Lucy said, “Dad losing his job. Then losing the house. Having to come home from school and go back to County. This place. I know it’s where we live but it’s not home. Even the smells are so unfamiliar. I don’t like it here. I don’t like this. It sucks for you too, right?”

“It’s fucking miserable,” I said.

“Right,” Lucy said, “And this is just… Look, I’m not saying it’s my life or anything. It’s a distraction. But it’s kind of keeping me sane right now. So, I don’t want to stop. We’ll move on when it’s time. I know we will.”

“That makes sense,” I said, “Honestly, it’s helping me, too.”

“We’ll reach a certain point,” Lucy said, “It’ll be easy. One day we’ll stop doing it and it won’t even feel different. You’ll look back and realize ‘oh, it’s been so long since we did it.'”

“Just like that?”

“Don’t you think so?” Lucy said, “Besides it’s not like we’re doing anything serious here. We’re not even touching.”

I thought back to that kiss on the head my sister had given me. For a moment, I realized that we were both deceiving ourselves. But that’s the thing about a mirage. It’s all about how badly you want to see it.