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 Title : Elenora, My Love

   Author : MeatBot

   Keywords : Brother/Sister Incest, mf

   Date : 20150107

   Mail : meatbot777 at gmail dot com

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   Synopsis : A young boy becomes sexually enamored of his older sister.

   Disclaimer : Copyright by the author.  Permission is granted to archive,
repost, or publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals,
anthologies of this type of material if unaltered and attributed to the
author.  This is a work of fiction.  You must be 18 or over to read this
story.  In real life, incestuous relationships, particularly when an
under-aged person is involved with a parent or adult, often causes deep
psychological damage.  This story is provided for entertainment purposes
only.  The author does not condone any sexual activity with persons under
18 in real life.

   These are just words, people.  Just words.  If you have a problem with
words see a competent shrink or an English teacher.  This story might have
happened in an alternate universe.  No small furry animals were harmed in
the making of this story.



   --==+==-



   I was almost thirteen.  It was a dark, cold winter night.  I huddled up
under the covers in my little twin bed, and tried to stay warm.  There was
no heat in my end of the house, and ice formed on the inside of my windows,
at times.  It got that cold in my room at night.

   For some reason that night something happened that had never happened
before.  Whether it was from touching it or not I don't remember, but my
dick got hard.  Really hard.  It seemed to have no desire to go down.  I
puzzled over it, touching it, feeling pleasure from the touch.  Finally,
without any real education in the subject, I made a donut shape from a
second pillow I had, and stuck my dick inside the center.  A little
in-and-out motion, and ta-da...  I had my very first orgasm.  I was hooked
after that, and did it the next morning in the shower, with my hands and
soap.  That was a mistake, and a few days later when my dick healed up I
began a more cautious exploration of the wide world of masturbation.  I
became quite an expert on it.  This carried me well into my teens.

   I had two sisters in the house, a younger and an older.  My older sister
was almost two years older than me, and I had loved her since I was a
child. I had lusted after her, long before I knew what lust was.  She was
beautiful...  long golden hair, smooth soft skin, and features that would
make a sculptor cry.  She was beautiful.  She tolerated me well, for a
little brother, and I tried to stay out of her way and not piss her off or
anything.  I basically worshiped her from a distance.

   As my masturbation experiments became more and more involved, I looked
for material of both mental and physical stimulus.  The mental stuff was no
problem, I imagined girls at school, and teachers that I found attractive.
Even some of my mom's friends made cameo appearances in my fantasies.  But
the most special one, from the start, was my big sister.  I'd been lucky
enough to see her occasionally in various stages of undress, and those
memories burned into my mind, never to be forgotten.  We wrestled and
played, still, even, and the feel of her soft skin and softer girl parts
had starring roles in my masturbatory epics.

   One Saturday, I was home alone, and I took my dirty clothes to the
laundry hamper.  When I opened it, to my absolute shock, there lay a pair
of my older sister's used panties.  I wondered why I hadn't thought of this
before.  I knew they were hers because my little sister was way smaller,
and I knew my mom wore "granny panties" like old ladies wore.  I reverently
fished them out, and ran to my room, locking the door.  With trembling
hands I pressed them to my nose, drinking in the sweet nectar of her
fabulous cunt.  There were white streaks, even, where her pussy would have
been located.  I would lick those off later, but for now I just wanted to
smell her.  To my absolute delight, there was a tiny brown streak in the
ass end of them so I even knew right where her little asshole was.  I was
so much in love it hurt, and I masturbated fiercely, with them plastered to
my face.  It was the most intense, earthshaking jack-off of my life, and I
knew it was all because of her.  I thought about jacking off in them, but I
didn't want to ruin them.  The scent lasted for several days, but I had a
fresh pair long before then.  I would keep them long enough for the smells
to fade away, then return them to the laundry.  I had it made.  Life was
good.  I felt familiar with her, absolutely intimate with her....  I knew
what her pussy and asshole smelled like, after all...  it gave me a
closeness to her that I treasured.

   I tested my little sister's panties, but they were not nearly as juicy
or aromatic as my big sister's.  More than once I snuck out after everyone
had gone to bed, and snagged a pair less than an hour off her sweet ass. 
My high point was a pair with an honest-to-god wet spot, and I cursed the
thief of time that would dry it out.  Her smells were unreal to me, just
incredible.  I now know what pussy smells like, I told myself.  And I knew
intimately what hers smelled like.  Once I found a single silky black pubic
hair and kept it for years, stuck to a piece of transparent tape.  It was
one of my most treasured possessions.

   During this time I experimented masturbatorily with a cousin, and we
eventually snared a willing and wanton young lady (his little sister) for
our perverted desires and experiments, but that is another story.  The
story of my big sister and me is on a little longer time scale.

   I suppose she knew, or at least suspected that I lusted after her.  Once
that summer, when the three of us were swimming in the creek, and I let my
balls hang of my shorts, where she could not fail to see them.  She was
just wearing a wet white t-shirt, and her ample bosom was exposed almost as
well as if she was naked.  Her fat nipples gave me an erection that
wouldn't quit, and I wanted to let it hang out too, but I wasn't that
brave. I was convinced she was showing off for me.  Sadly, looking back,
she probably wasn't...  but she had to know I was interested in her body,
at least.  Of course I was, I was a teen-aged boy.  Anything made my dick
hard, anything remotely female...  she had to realize that.

   That next winter was memorable.  She started something, innocent at
first, that led to an inescapable conclusion.  I had gotten in trouble with
my dad over something, and I felt aggrieved.  She snuck into my bedroom, to
let me know that she agreed with me; that it wasn't really my fault.  I
appreciated that to no end, but what I really appreciated was her soft warm
body snuggling up underneath the blankets against me as we talked.  Her hot
breath tickled my ear, and her lips literally touched my ear, at times.  My
cock was harder than a steel bar, and I swear I could feel her soft breast
pressing into my upper arm.

   Two nights later, she came again, for reasons I cannot remember.  We
lay, casually touching, but I was on fire everywhere her body pressed
against mine.  My hand the farthest away from her slowly snuck into my
pajama bottoms, and I slowly jacked my cock as she breathed in my face. 
The sensuality of this cannot be adequately described with the English
language, or any spoken or written tongue.  She was barely gone thirty
seconds when I came with a frighteningly loud groan, and sprayed semen all
down the front of my pajamas.  She turned me on like nothing else in the
world could.

   Once or twice a week she snuck into my bed.  We talked, and sometimes
she just laid there.  She was going through an unhappy time, and I think
she just enjoyed the sympathetic company.  I made her laugh, and I like to
think I gave her as much pleasure as she gave me.  I was big for my age,
and I don't think she viewed me as a little kid, I think she saw me as more
like an equal, at this stage.  I'd like to think I was a little more mature
than the typical teenager, too.

   The second step happened one night as we sat in the parlor and our dad
read from the bible to us, a torturous nightly ritual.  I was sitting
facing her and she was facing ninety degrees away from me.  As I tried to
stay awake, I looked down at the side of her nightshirt.  To my amazement,
I saw that it was torn on the side, and the whole tip of her breast lay
open for my perusal.  I couldn't even breathe for a minute as I stared into
heaven.  She had a fat puffy pink nipple, a dark shade of pink.  Her breast
was full, but not to excess.  Her nipple pointed up because her arms were
resting on her upraised knees.  I was actually looking under her arm, and
even seeing her bare underarm turned me on.  But nothing like seeing her
bare breast.

   That moment stands as one of the high points of my entire life.  It was
intensely sexual, but not as sexual as what happened next.  She turned her
head a few degrees and met my eyes.  Well, she would have met my eyes, but
my eyes were glued to her marvelous tit.  I slowly raised them, knowing
full well I'd been made.  She just gave me a little smile, and turned her
head back.  I realized that she knew full well what I was doing, and she
knew her tit was exposed.  We sat there another five minutes and my eyes
never strayed from her fabulous body.  She never looked at me again.  And
that smile never left her lips.

   That night, she came to me.  She crawled in my bed, under the thick
comforter.  The room was icy, at times you could literally see your breath
in the air.  She snuggled up next to me, and I just melted.  Just the touch
of her arm against mine was enough to almost make me ejaculate.  I loved
her, by then, to an extreme that I cannot begin to describe.  She was my
whole life, every moment of the day almost I thought of her, every second I
was away I yearned for her.  As goofy as it sounds, I was desperately in
love with her.  I knew it was pointless and stupid, but I loved her more
than I could almost bear.

   I was also intensely aware that her nightgown was still torn, and her
breast was right there...  right there, just begging to be touched.  If
only, if only.  Somehow I withstood the temptation.

   She whispered silly things to me, and all I could feel was her breath in
my ear.  I almost cried, at times, I loved her so much.  I finally just put
my face down against the side of her face, and lay there.  She was finally
quiet, and we lay there, communing on some spiritual plane that I've never
reached since.  I could almost feel the tether of love that bound us as a
physical thing.  I slowly reached out, pursing my lips, and kissed her
gently on the side of her cheek.

   Nothing happened for a few moments.  Then, with a rustle of bedclothes
that sounded like a cannon shot in the silence of the night, she sat up,
turned, and crushed her face to mine.  We met, almost violently, and I
tasted her saliva and felt the sweetness of her lips against mine.  My
heart pounded, maybe ten beats, maybe less...  and then she was gone.  Back
through the darkness, back to her room.  I lay there, in shock, her spit
drying on my cheek and lip.  I was in love, hopelessly, helplessly
desperately in love.  The way it had affected me was wilder than my wildest
dream.

   She didn't come for a few nights after that.  I moped, afraid she was
embarrassed at what we'd done.  I wanted to hold her so bad I couldn't
stand it.  I masturbated morosely, holding a fresh pair of her panties to
my face, thinking of her and only her.  She was my life.

   Finally, she came.  Wraith-like, out of the icy darkness she appeared
and crawled into bed with me.  I waited, my heart pounding.  It just took a
moment.  She rolled, half over my body, and our lips smashed together
again. She breathed into my mouth, and I treasured that breath.  We kissed
in a union that still to this day resounds inside me.  We kissed
beautifully, sensually...  it was just incredible.  Finally, gasping for
breath, she pulled away from me.  I could still feel her hot breath on my
saliva-smeared lips.

   "I've..." she whispered, "I've never kissed a boy before." I have no
idea why she thought she had to tell me that.

   "I've never kissed a girl before," I whispered back, although I actually
had.  We both giggled.  I could barely see her, in the darkness.  I could
see two sparks where her eyes were, mostly.  Her face drifted closer and
closer.  The next kiss was much gentler and way longer.  I felt her mouth
open further and further and opened mine equally.  We stopped again, both
of us panting for breath.  Why it hadn't yet occurred to us to breathe
through our noses, I'm not sure.  The third kiss was the tie-breaker.  I
felt her tongue touch my lips.  Immediately my tongue was in her mouth.

   I had been acutely aware, this whole time, that her body just lay inches
from my diamond-tipped penis.  Her leg was inside my two legs, and her
thigh was literally an inch or two from my hard cock.  Her legs were spread
with mine inbetween, her crotch pressed against me, and I could feel the
heat from her pussy, burning into my flesh.  I knew she'd feel my dick, if
she moved slightly.  I wanted her to, but I was afraid she would, at the
same time.  I have no idea why I was afraid, but I was.  Mostly, at this
stage, I was afraid of anything that would send her fleeing back to her
room.

   We kissed, again and again.  I drank her sweetness like a man dying of
thirst in the desert.  I inhaled her, I tried to make her part of me.  My
mind probably wasn't capable of coherent thought at this stage...  I can't
remember.

   Suddenly, as before, she was gone.  No goodbyes, no see you laters, she
just disappeared.  My hand flew inbetween my mattress to my panty
collection, and I soon had another massive orgasm.  It occurred to me to
wonder if she masturbated...  and what she thought of when she did.

   I'm still not sure, after all these years, why she did these things with
me.  She was young and smart and beautiful, and she could have had her pick
of any of the young men she went to school with...  and one or two might
have even met with my parent's approval.  She was a late bloomer, I knew
for a fact she'd never had a boyfriend...  and she'd admitted to me that
she'd never kissed a boy.  Maybe it was just chance or opportunity.  We
were isolated on the farm, and purposefully kept away from other "normal"
kids, whom my parents felt would be a bad influence on us.  Maybe I was
just available.  I know she liked me, probably even loved me, though of
course not like I loved her...  no one could match that, I knew.

   This went on most of the winter.  For a while she came every night, and
I was as intensely happy as I could be.  More than once we almost got
caught, and once she literally hid beneath the blankets as my dad passed my
room, mumbling his goodnights to us kids.

   It wasn't until the warmer weather was upon us that I was able to
escalate things a bit.  We had a comfortable routine, she showed up, we
kissed for twenty or thirty minutes, and then she disappeared.  I hungered
for more, for more of her sweetness.  I was intimately familiar with her
mouth by now, and I wanted to know the rest of her as well.  I was such a
country hick that I had yet to hear of many of the stages of sex, but I
wanted to touch her as badly as I needed air to breathe.  I wanted to seize
her breasts, and squeeze them until she begged for mercy.  I wanted to rub
her between her legs, in her most secret of places.  I wanted to lick her
beautiful asshole.  I wanted to do it all.  At that stage, the thought of
pressing my mouth to her cunt would send me into an almost immediate
orgasm. It was out of this world how much just thinking of her turned me
on.

   When she entered my room, she would gently close the door almost all the
way, careful not to click the latch.  We were safe from prying eyes, though
we feared that her absence from her room might be noticed.  I trusted that
she shut her own door when she left her room.  My parents would knock, we
knew that.  We had a little safety.

   After it warmed up, I just slept under a sheet.  That seemed like some
protection, as the comforter had been also.  I started enacting a plan I'd
hatched.  She usually lay on top of me, halfway over my body.  I began to
place my hands on her waist, even the hand that she lay on.  I slowly, over
the course of several nights, came to be holding her.  She seemed not to
mind a bit, and once, she even moved my hands around on her body.  I rose
higher and higher, until I was even with her breasts, holding her under her
arms.

   Something to mention here.  We lived on a farm.  We worked, even though
we were kids.  We didn't take baths every night, usually just every other
night, if that.  Her smells were just incredible, to me.  Forget that
anti-antiperspirant shit.  She smelled like an honest, hard working... 
girl.  I could often smell her sweat, and her underarms, and it turned me
on like nothing else.  To this day the smell of girl sweat gives me a
boner, because of this.  She smelled like heaven to me, never bad, never
stinky...  just incredibly sexy.  Some of my strongest memories of this
time are olfactoral.  Call me weird.

   Anyway, that night.  The night was ordinary, like any other.  I can't
remember if she'd come to me the night before or not.  She came into my
room, appearing from the hall, and slid beneath the sheet next to me.  I
took her almost immediately, and held her to me.  Our lips touched.  As we
kissed, I pressed my hands into the sides of her soft breasts.  She seemed
to have no reservations at all.  I slowly caressed her, rubbing further and
further to the front of her body, and at last I felt the hardness of her
nipple beneath my hand.  I squeezed, not trying to be intrusive, not
wanting her to shoo my hand away.  Apparently it was not an issue.  She
never said or did anything to discourage me.  Twenty minutes later I was
squeezing and pinching her fat nipples, in heaven.  She stayed and stayed
that night, and I know she loved it as much as I did.  She sighed and
positively moaned a few times, even.  My dick had oozed so much pre-cum my
pajamas were soaked.  When she finally slid out of my bed and disappeared,
I just lay there, smiling, almost in shock.  I had felt her off, I had
literally felt off my big sister's tits.  My cock did not get much sleep
that night.

   That was the routine, that quickly.  For next month we did that, she let
me play with her breasts.  Once again, I escalated things by pulling up her
nightgown, and sliding my hands along her bare skin.  The feeling of her
bare breasts beneath my hands was electrifying, just incredible.  Her
smooth, cool skin...  her fat, puffy nipples...  once again, words fail.

   As we kissed, one night, I let my hands slide off her breasts and down,
down...  past her stomach and waist...  until I cupped her sweet ass in my
hands.  She didn't mind.  I squeezed and kneaded her fullness, falling in
love all over again.  Her ass was magnificent, a thing of staggering, true
beauty.  From here, the ball was rolling.  The exponential slope had begun.

   Less than a week later my finger was down the back of her panties and I
was rubbing her sweaty asshole.  Her puckered sweetness made me positively
insane with love and lust, and I almost thought I was going to go crazy.  I
could feel her pubic hair, around her asshole and on her perineum, and it
just blew my mind.  When she finally left, I raised my finger to my nose
and drank in her sweet scent...  god, it just killed me.  It just blew me
away.  I tasted it.  I didn't care if it was her asshole, I put that finger
in my mouth, after I'd sniffed it for a while.  I knew that the scent would
disappear, but I had to taste her.  I had to know.  And it blew me away.

   About this time I graduated to pulling my pajama bottoms down, and
letting my cock stand free.  I know she could see the sheet tenting up, in
the dim light.  More than once her leg and even arm bumped it, to my great
pleasure, but she didn't take the hint right away.

   Finally, I could stand it no longer.  One night I took her hand, and
guided it to my cock.  She pulled away, but within a minute I felt her
tentative touch on my dick.  The ball was rolling downhill fast, by now. 
Three or four nights later she jacked me off for the first time, sending a
fountain of semen spraying over the lower half of the bed, surprising us
both.  That was the first and last time that happened, the next night she
positively shocked the hell out of me by leaning down and taking the very
end of my cock in her mouth, when it because obvious I was fixing to cum.
She gulped and slurped my sperm, and turned me on beyond belief.  Where she
learned this was even an option I have no idea, Cosmo, who knows.  That she
had nerve or desire to do it is a surprise, even after all these years.  I
could have cum again, I'm sure, and again after that.  She plastered her
mouth against mine, and, for the first time, I tasted my own sperm in a
girl's mouth.  My dick even stayed hard afterwards, I was so turned on. 
And that's all the encouragement I needed, the next night, as soon as she
showed up, I wrestled her legs apart and nestled inbetween them.  The thing
I wanted most in the world was within my grasp.

   She raised her butt, so I could slide her panties down.  I leaned into
her.  Her pussy was beyond my wildest dreams.  It was sexy, off the scale.
I bent closer and closer to her, smelling her wonderful smell.  Her pussy
gleamed in the dim light, her pubic hair black and shining, her little lips
peeking out of the nest of hair.  When my tongue finally touched her, I
almost shot my wad.  My nose was full of her scent as my tongue licked her
clit, and she squirmed beneath me.  I hoped she was enjoying it as much as
I was.  On a scale of one to ten, I was in the eighteens, at least.  Never
in my life had I craved something so strongly, and finally gotten it. 
Never was I so happy.

   To my great pleasure, I licked her to an orgasm, the first time.  I
could feel every muscle in her body tense and tighten, and her breathing
became labored and ragged.  She sighed, and breathed deeply, and then
hiccuped a few times when it was over.  I just kept on licking.  I could
have gone until morning...  I wanted to.

   I'd like to think she came again but I couldn't tell.  She finally heard
a noise in the hall and leapt up and pulled her nightgown down.  She stood
at the door for a while and then silently slipped out.  I lay back, happier
than I'd ever been in my life.  Once again I felt like we'd turned a corner
in our relationship.  We had taken more steps along that road that we
followed.  Where it would lead I had no idea but I was loving the journey.

   I ate her pussy three more glorious nights that first time.  The high
point of my whole life is laying there, on my belly, lapping her sweet cunt
and asshole.  Her tastes are forever burned into my mind, although I wish I
could have a refresher, after all these years.  What a bastard of a thief
time is.

   One night, though, she didn't come.  I accepted that, maybe our parents
had spooked her, or something.  I missed her greatly, I missed her tastes,
and the softness of her thighs on my cheeks.  But I didn't panic.

   I did panic, the next night.  Was it over?  What was wrong?  Had I gone
too far?  The next day I stared at her at the dinner table, begging her
with my eyes, imploring her, to let me know what was wrong.  I could not
live without her, without my daily dose of her.  I just could not go on.

   The third night was the worst.  I got up, half a dozen times, to go get
her, to go see her and ask her why she'd stopped coming.  How could I live
without her?  How could I go that far with her and then just stop?  I was
angry, angry and hurt.  But I held some hope, some hope for the fourth
night.

   The afternoon of the next day I was down at the barn cleaning out a
grainary when I looked up.  There she stood, wearing a light jacket.  Her
long hair floated in the breeze, surrounding her like a golden aura.  She
wore no makeup, she needed none.  She looked fabulously beautiful to me, so
alive, so perfect.  I wanted her more that moment than I ever had.  I just
wanted to feel her, in my arms.  She just stood and stared at me.  I
stopped, and dropped my gloves.  I slowly made my way to her, a million
things to ask her on my mind.  Is this it?  I thought.  Is this when she
tells me it's over?

   "Hi, Rusty..." she finally said, and I think she was puzzled at my
intense expression.

   "Ellie..." I said, feeling tears in my voice.  I could only whisper
after that.  "What's wrong...  where have you been..."

   She laughed.  Only then did she seem to realize how much her absence had
affected me.  "Rusty...  you doofus...  do you not know anything about
girls?"

   "What do you mean," I asked, getting a bit defensive.

   "I'm having my period, you dork," she was talking so loud I was sure
that if anybody was close they could hear.  I shushed her.  She grinned
again.

   "I knew if I came you'd wanna lick me, so I stayed away...  gimme
another night or two..."

   I slammed into her body, and gripped her tightly.  I did cry, some, in
relief.  It wasn't over, not yet.  I understood.  I still wanted her,
period or no period, but I understood.  I just stood there, and held her.

   "Please come," I said.  "I'll leave you alone.  But please come."

   "Rusty," she said, getting serious.  "Do you have any idea how much
trouble we'll be in if we ever get caught?"

   I did, but I tried to ignore things of that magnitude.  We made a few
plans, that day, and tried to think of some things we could do to lessen
the risk.  There wasn't much, sadly.  She was a little more careful than
me, what I was getting from her was worth any risk, to me.

   That night, to my joy, she came.  She brought some school books with
her, and placed them on my desk.  Her idea was, if either of my parents
knocked, she could pretend that she hadn't been able to sleep and I was
helping her with her homework.  We just had to remember to make sure the
door was locked, and be ready to get dressed in a hurry.



   --==+==-

   That was about the shape of things, for the rest of that summer.  I
tasted her sweetness every few nights.  I realize now, though, that she'd
already started weaning me off her.  As I seemed to get more and more, she
came less and less.  Our times together became more intense and involved,
but happened less often.  At the time, I thought I understood the
trade-off. I accepted it.

   We never fucked.  Sadly, we never fucked.  We talked about it, one
afternoon, down at the pond, we threw rocks in the water...  and talked
about fucking.  I didn't pressure her...  I'm sure she knew how badly I
wanted it, how badly I wanted to try.  She was, understandably, afraid of
getting pregnant...  and I think she had some old-fashioned ideas, in spite
of the things we'd done, of being a virgin on her wedding night.  This was
the 70's, and that still happened.  I accepted that, the things I were
getting from her were sweet enough that I could live without it, for now...
although, in my mind, I thought, someday...  someday, she will be mine.  I
had some crazy ideas about us growing up, and being together...  even going
to college and rooming together...  I didn't see how, after going this far,
we could fail to someday eventually go all the way.

   But, we never did.  I understand, now.  She knew better than I, at that
time, how it just had to be.  I still wonder, sometimes, if, in an
alternate universe, I spent the rest of my days with her wrapped in my
arms. There's always a way, I'd like to think.  I guess, in the end, I just
wasn't enough for her.  I was just her brother.  That sounds self-pitying
and pathetic, I know.

   Within a year, it was over.  I still held her at times but there was no
more kissing, no more nocturnal visitations, and certainly no more pussy
licking.  I survived, somehow.  She had a real boyfriend by then and I had
a girlfriend, although I didn't get as much from her.  Well, I did, we
fucked, on rare occasions, but the intimacy that I shared with Ellie, the
intimacy that I craved more than life, was absent.  I don't know about her,
about Ellie, but I know that I've never, in all my fifty five years,
touched the level of intense intimacy that I reached with her.  I hope she
has known it again, at least once in her life.  I have no idea.  She has
had two failed marriages, while I've had one...  but I'd still like to
think that we could have made it, as a couple...  I know I could have, I
know she was enough for me, and there, at the beginning...  the intensity I
felt from her...  I'd like to think that she felt it, too.

   In one of the few times I've ever talked about this to someone, I
explained it was as though our souls fucked.  Our bodies never did, but on
some fantastic level of existence, our souls fucked.  Or maybe they made
love, that sounds a bit more holy, more spiritual, which, in spite of my
base, earthly thoughts, is what this whole thing felt like to me.  I am not
a religious person.  I did not become one, in spite of the best efforts of
my parents.  The only religion in my life, the only thing that I've ever
worshiped, the only thing I've perceived as supernaturally holy, has been
her.  In spite of the things we did, she is as pure as driven snow to me.
She is an angel from some unknown heaven, come to earth.  And our souls
touched, for a moment.

   I still think that she was the one for me.  Maybe I was just not the one
for her.  Something got mixed up, some cosmic connection, and she just
happened to be my sister.  What an ugly, yet ultimately meaningless word
"incest" is, in the face of the love we shared.  What we had deserves a way
more beautiful name.

   I don't really know where to go from here with this.  The story is told.
I could fill a few more pages with regrets and speculations, but I won't
bore you any further.  Maybe I just read too much into a little episode of
a couple of kids playing around.

   I still see Ellie, ever chance I get.  I still feel a rush.  She has
aged well.  She is still beautiful.  Two or three times a year I get to
hold her in my arms and just stand there and squeeze.  We have never in all
these years talked about the things we did so long ago.  I understand.  I
will die with her name on my lips.  I was, for a brief moment, all those
years ago, happier than any human has a right to be.  But nothing lasts
forever.



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   Read this next :

  
http://www.kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?topic=25777.msg355710#msg3557
10



   --==+==-

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