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From: RankAmatr@aol.com
Subject: REPOST: Have you ever committed incest? #15


The Thoroughly Disreputable Incest Digest
=========================================
Issue 15

Though incest is among society's strongest taboos, statistics
show a lot of us have done it -- or are doing it.  Whether as 
part of mutual exploration, seduction, or even abuse, incest
creates enduring memories with emotional and erotic impact.
This digest is one way of discussing and illuminating this 
subject.  Plus, the stories are fun to share!

If you have an incest experience you would like to share, please
send it to:  RankAmateur@WriteMe.com.  Anonymity guaranteed.

Many of you enjoyed part 1 of Jeannie's story last issue.
Here is her follow-up.  Jeannie, you are one *hot* writer!  >kiss<

[personal to Jeannie: please write.]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

From: "Jeannie"

(mf, teen, cons, incest, true)

Well, I'm back from Thanksgiving at home and I kept my promise to
myself -- I told my younger brother Rich (not Ricky anymore) I
would like to make love to him again if he also wanted to. When I
got back to school I found a couple of notes asking me to post
how it all worked out, so here is a journal. It's long --
everything's so fresh in my memory that lots of words came out. I
hope no one minds.

Here's a little intro. Approaching Rich after more than two years
turned out to be very scary. It took time to find the right
chance and I almost chickened out completely. My fear was rather
extreme.

For the record, I'm glad I did finally approach him and I'm glad
I resisted my fears, which had me convinced it was all a huge
mistake and I'd  better rethink. What if he freaks and tells
someone? What right do I have to put that kind of pressure on
Rich? What if the whole idea turns his stomach because he's
become gay? What if I caused it by getting so oral with him
before? Yada yada yada. But it turned out Rich wanted me as much
as I did him and my fear just evaporated. No doubt we'll run into
complicatio ns eventually, but nothing's free. We'll just have to
be careful.

In case you missed my last note, I'm a 19-year-old college
student who had a series of sexual encounters with my younger
brother two and a half years ago. He was barely 15 and was stuck
at home in a hospital bed after a bicycle accident. I was 17. One
night I accidentally caught him with an erection and he got
miserably embarrassed. Being all tied up in casts, ropes and
pulleys, he couldn't do anything about it, so I relieved him
myself, by hand. He needed the release and I wanted him to know I
loved him even if his male body made unreasonable demands; he
didn't have to curl up and die just because I had seen his erect
penis. It was a very rash, spur-of-the-moment thing, but I found
I liked it and one thing quickly led to another. Until they took
the rigid casts off his arms I used my hands or my mouth on him
almost every night to give him sexual release. Once the casts
came off and he could take care of his own needs, we stopped.

That's kind of a summary of my earlier note. While writing it I
decided to ask Rich this Thanksgiving holiday if he wanted to
make love. So I did, and he did, and we did, and I'm glad.

So here's "What I Did for Thanksgiving Vacation," may it never
fall into the delicate hands of Mrs. R., my fourth grade teacher.
Then again Rich and I are widely considered to be "good kids," so
I guess you can never tell...

- "J."

********************

Once I had made up my mind to actually approach Rich, I got so
sunk into the idea I was useless at school, spending all my
mental time in bed with him, going around dreamy, moonstruck,
fantasizing about Rich loving me back instead of just being
passive like he had to be the first time. I guess writing about
our incest made me obsessive or something. Whatever, I needed to
deal with it and find closure one way or another. I arranged to
do some make-up work in my only two classes that aren't
near-automatic A's and headed home the Thursday night before
official T'giving break began.

My kid brother was very much on my mind when I got home, but it
was after 2 a.m. so I just snuck up to my old room (now a generic
spare room) and fell asleep. The next morning when I saw Rich at
breakfast I immediately chickened out. He may be my kid brother,
but at 17 Rich stands a good 6 or 7 inches taller than I do (I'm
5'6 in my shoes) and he's gained quite a bit of muscle around his
shoulders. He still has the long, slim build of a runner and
swimmer (I'm on the thin side too), but he's not physically a kid
anymore. It didn't feel like I had the advantage of being his
older sibling. And he didn't have his arms in casts either.

How about that? In wussing out, I discovered one of the things I
liked about our previous encounters was that he was helpless and
younger than me. With Rich immobilized I could let myself go
completely. Now I was afraid I couldn't do that anymore. Not to
mention, this time there would be absolutely nothing accidental
about it. And frankly, Rich attracted me so strongly I didn't
feel secure about his being my brother instead of a "love
interest," if you see what I mean. Add to that a strong fear of
rejection, betrayal or discovery, and I was ready to bolt.
Scary.

There it stood the first day of my visit and much of the next,
with me afraid to say anything and wondering if even thinking
about it meant I was sick in the head. As always, Rich had a
smile ready whenever I glanced over or smiled at him, a complete
gentleman. I don't think he had any idea of what I'd come home
ready -- or maybe unready -- to do, or the insane levels my
hormones were reaching as I watched him move around like some
young athlete. 

On Saturday afternoon, Mom and my younger sister Jody, who turned
13 the week before, went to a double-feature movie. I begged off
on grounds of holiday homework. Rich said he didn't feel like
getting stuck at the mall with his mom and sister for hours after
the movie. Jodie stuck out her tongue, Mom and Jody left, and we
he had the house to ourselves for at least the next 4 or 5 hours,
counting mall time. I knew if I put off talking to Rich I
probably never would find the courage. Maybe I was just scared 
of how I would feel if I let this chance slide by, but whatever
the reason, I decided I'd better do something while I had some
backbone.

Rich was in the living room watching TV, so I went in and sat by
him on the couch -- a decent distance away, of course, not
physically touching or anything crass like that. He smiled over
at me, and I bit my lip and just looked at him.

"What," he said, frowning a little. He cocks his head when he's
puzzled, which I think is really cute even if it's supposed to be
a girl's posture. Like playing with your hair. God he's cute.
This is wrong. I can't do this. I have to do this. Yada yada.
Take the plunge. "Rich -- remember when you were laid up in bed?"
My heart was racing -- I'm not kidding about the fear.

He let out a long breath. "Jeannie, how could I forget? It was
the only good thing that happened." (The quote is approximate,
but close.) I remember he paused a moment, looking at me. "I
always wondered if you had regrets for... what we did." 

"No. No regrets ever. Not for myself," I told him. "But I was
afraid it might have hurt you. You know. Emotionally or
something."

"Are you kidding? It just made me love you more." He leaned
toward me with an intent look. "Jeannie, I completely love you.
All my heart. Nobody had better ever hurt you. I mean that."
(That is an accurate quote. It's tucked away in my memory, in the
place where I keep my treasures.)

He was watching me with that open, direct gaze of his and started
to reach toward me, but pulled his hand back like he couldn't
make up his mind. Maybe I flinched when he moved his hand, I
don't know; certainly I felt jumpy. I didn't say anything,
couldn't even think, much less talk. I just watched him and bit
my lower lip some more. Rich tells me I usually do that when I'm
feeling uncertain or scared. Finally he asked, "Do you want to
talk about it?" 

"Yes, I think I need to," I told him, and couldn't help looking
down at my lap. I suppose my face was red. "It'd sure help if you
would hug me. Just hold me for a second. I need you to hold me." 

My voice kept getting smaller and I guess it was obvious I was
scared. It sure wasn't the cheerful, fearless "Wanna try it
again, bubba?" kind of approach that I'd fantasized pulling off.
Bless him, Rich just stood up in front of me without another word
and held out his hands. I grabbed them and he pulled me to my
feet, then put his arms around me and held me against his body. I
put my own arms around him and hugged back. Actually, it felt
more like hanging on for dear life. Then, after a deep breath and
a couple of still moments, it started to feel like I might melt
into him. I guess if someone had seen us we would have looked
pretty glued together. I remember my cheek was pressed against
his chest and I could hear his heart beating -- it was going
fast, like mine. His chest and stomach felt hard and solid
against my front and I could feel him stirring against my lower
stomach, where I was pressed against him. Where his legs began.
Okay, his crotch. I was pressed against his crotch and he was
stirring ther e, and my own "down there" parts did some stirring
of their own, so to speak. But I was still scared; I mean, this
was far gone beyond the norm.

Rich kissed the top of my head and said in a low voice, "Jeannie,
tell me. Just say it. Whatever it is."

He was making my knees weak. Weird experience -- it was like they
wanted to buckle, and I was just hanging on tight.

I looked up to his face. "Rich, can you forgive me? I don't want
to stop," I told him. "I want to make love to you again. I want
you to make love to me. You don't have to. It's wrong I guess. I
don't want you to get hurt. Or Mom. But I don't want to leave
things where they are. I keep thinking about it. About you. I
need to know." I was babbling and didn't know how to stop. 

Rich solved my problem by leaning his head down to kiss me on the
mouth, His lips were slightly open so I opened my own, and his
tongue brushed lightly against my lips, then probed into my mouth
where I met it with my own very willing tongue. He held me in a
long, deep kiss and as we kissed I felt his hands stroking my
back, up and down. I pressed every inch of myself against him,
tried to wriggle even closer. He felt lovely and solid -- and
safe.

When we broke the kiss he held me for a moment, then said, "Let's
go to my room," and led me up the stairs, holding my hand. At
that moment I would have followed him anywhere, done anything.

When we got to his room he paused to lock the door (we all got
door locks as kids, out of respect for privacy), then turned and
took my hands. I guess we were about a foot apart, and I couldn't
stop looking into his eyes. I was sinking in them.

"Jeannie, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. Oops.
Wrong question. I didn't know what I wanted at that moment. I
wasn't in charge anymore. I didn't want to decide anything. Damn.

"Don't you?" I asked. I could barely hear my own voice. Inwardly,
I was cursing my recklessness and my cowardice at the same
moment.

"More than anything," he said, and drew me toward him. It was a
wonderful moment but I don't know how to describe the emotions
that swirled around inside me. Relief, gladness... nothing sounds
right. I don't know how to say it. Like something had whooshed
out that I didn't even know I had inside. (Sounds like gas.)
Anyhow, when Rich leaned in to kiss me I expected him to put his
arms around me but instead he let go of my hands and I felt him
start to unbutton my shirt. I was wearing an old chambray work
shi rt and realized I was not wearing a bra -- my boobs aren't
big enough to really need the support so I often choose comfort.
Now I was self-conscious. Like he might think I'd planned it all
out. Jeannie the slut, bring on the track team. Damn. Stop that.
Shut up. Let it happen. All this noise kept going through my
head, but Rich just kept kissing me and unbuttoning my shirt.

When we came up for air he glanced down at what he was doing and
I could tell when he realized I had no bra because he took a
quick little breath of his own, then looked back up at my face
with his eyes kind of wide. I smiled at him, or tried to, and
realized I was biting my lip again. I felt very awkward. He
leaned forward to kiss me again gently, then ran one finger down
my front, tracing a light path on my skin down between my boobs
and on down my stomach to the last two buttons still holding my
shirt cl osed, and quickly undid them. We hadn't said a word and
I don't know why I remember that sequence so well. Maybe because
Rich didn't say anything? It felt like he accepted me the way I
am and didn't pass judgment. It made me feel safe. I shut my eyes
and finally was able to totally sink into the moment.

Have I mentioned how much I love this brother of mine?

When my shirt fell open Rich raised his hands to my breasts and
started stroking them, gently tugging and manipulating my nipples
the way I had shown him just once before, the one time I had
gotten completely naked for him when I was taking care of his
needs, while he was laid up. My nipples popped out so hard I
think they tried to jump right off my boobs. Not to mention that
direct connection between my nips and my crotch. Phew! I don't
even remember where my hands were at that point -- maybe just
hanging down at my sides. Rich had all my attention elsewhere and
was compounding my interest with another deep, lingering kiss.

Then he leaned forward to whisper, "I want to undress you. I want
to do you the way you used to do me. I love you, Jeannie."

I didn't need to hear the "magic words," but they are always nice
when you know the other person means them. All I could do was
whisper back, "Oh yesss..." or something like that. Or maybe I
just nodded; I'm not sure. It didn't matter. I wasn't in charge.

Rich bent down and picked me up like I didn't weigh anything,
with one arm under my knees and the other supporting my back,
right against my skin below where my shirt hung down from my
shoulders. He was in a tee shirt and I can still feel his arm
against me when I think about it. His left hand curved up against
my side to hold me secure from falling and his fingers just
touched the side of my breast. It felt like a promise. A psych
professor of mine said when you vividly remember a touch or a
movement, it m eans the memory goes bone-deep because those are
the hardest senses to fool or to make hallucinate. Rich's arm
supporting my back, pressed against my naked skin, his hand
curved up against my side, the cool air against my breasts and
nipples -- these memories are so vivid I can close my eyes and be
there again.

After picking me up Rich walked over to the bed with me; I
dropped my shirt to the floor and he put me gently down. When I
scooted over to make room, instead of lying down with me as I
expected he sat next to me on the bed, looked at me a moment, and
bent down to fasten his mouth to my boob. He cupped it with both
hands while he sucked and licked my nipple, then moved one hand
over to caress the other one too. He was making me a little
dizzy.

After a few moments he rested his cheek against my chest right
below my breasts and looked up at me. "I dreamed about this, you
know," he said. "I never stopped dreaming about you." I keep that
with my treasures too.

Then he went back to my breasts, paying attention first to one
and then the other, and I discovered how wonderful it feels to
lie passively on a bed and just soak up the sensations given by a
lover. None of the three boys I had bedded at college ever did
this for me! But there was nothing inept or impatient about Rich.
As he kissed and nibbled at me he stroked his right hand down
onto my stomach, moving his hand in circular motions. The tops of
his fingers went just under the top of my Levis at the bottom o f
the circles and I hoped he would go further soon. But I let him
take the lead and just closed my eyes and stroked his head and
occasionally went "Mmmmm" or said his name at a sweet moment.
Mmmmm. Still vivid.

Then his mouth left my breast and I felt him moving down on the
bed, so I opened my eyes to see. He was down there fumbling
around with the top button on my Levis. I reached down to help
him, but he tilted his hand up to block me.

"No fair," he told me. "It's my turn. You lie back. Let me try to
give you the same magic you gave me." 

He moved my hands onto my stomach and went back to fumbling at my
top button so I moved my hands up by my head, palms up,
surrendering to him, and watched him work. It struck me that Rich
was still completely dressed -- he even had his sneakers on. Not
too romantic! But I figured he was in charge and if he wanted to
-- excuse me -- fuck with his shoes on, so be it. But it would be
hard to do that with his pants on. I was curious about what he
intended. 

Once he had my Levis unfastened, he hooked his hands over them at
my hips and tugged downward. I raised my hips to help him, as he
had done for me more than once, and he slid my pants down below
my knees. Then he moved farther down and took off my shoes -- I
was glad I was just wearing slip-ons -- and pulled my pants the
rest of the way off. So there I was, lying nude on the bed except
for my panties, and I'm sure they were getting very soaked in the
crotch. (Just as mine are now, from telling this! While writing
my previous note I had to stop twice to masturbate, and now the
urge is building again. Maybe that makes me an exhibitionist, or
am I a voyeur on my own life? I don't know.)

Anyway, getting on with it...

While I lay there almost naked, Rich moved back up to my middle
and sat by my hips, and just looked down at me. I still had my
hands on the pillow by my head and was open to whatever he
wanted. I guess what he wanted was to sit and just look at me for
awhile. He moved his eyes from my head down to my feet and back
up to my face, stopping here and there in between to gaze at
various parts of me. It felt like a very intimate caress. I
couldn't believe how stirred up I was getting.

"Rich," I finally said, "aren't you going to undress?"

"Shhh," he said, and leaned over to kiss me again briefly, then
bent to suck at my nipple again -- yow! The connection to my
crotch was getting electric. I might have moaned that time.

He broke off long enough to take off his shoes and socks, which
for some absurd reason made me feel grateful, I'm not sure why.
Of course once his shoes were off he stopped undressing and went
back to kissing and sucking at my breasts. I didn't really mind;
in fact I loved him doing that. He lingered, paying attention
back and forth, and I'd not have complained if he'd kept it up
for hours.

"God, you're beautiful, Jeannie," he finally said, pressing his
cheek against my upper stomach. When I opened my eyes to look
down I realized I had lowered one of my hands to stroke his head
as he suckled at me. I had to smile, he looked so sweet. Since I
was on my back my boobs only swelled up a little bit, but my
nipples stood straight up! The whole area around my nips kind of
glistened from the moisture of his kissing and licking. His gaze
was roaming from my breasts to my face and back again, and he
had his eyes half closed. He looked insanely sexy.

"How can you be so beautiful?" he asked, and started kissing his
way down my chest and stomach. I said before, I'm not beautiful,
just fairly fat-free. Not everyone is even attracted to that kind
of body. Rich always makes me feel beautiful, though. I guess
beauty must really be in the eye of the beholder, dumb as that
sounds.

While he kissed his way down my front, he kept stroking my
breasts, keeping my nipples erect, until he got to my lower
stomach and the top of my panties. I was ready to have him tear
them right off me, but instead he skipped down to my legs and,
when I moved my knees apart a little, he started licking and
kissing toward the insides of my thighs by my crotch. This
prompted me to move my legs apart still farther and then I felt
his tongue insinuate itself under the loose elastic around my
leg, not much, but enough that his tongue was actually on my
crotch, inside my panties! You bet that earned a moan or two.
Then he pulled aside my soaked panties and started kissing and
licking my actual sexual parts and I couldn't help it, I hunched
up at his face, even though he hadn't gotten anywhere near my
clitoris. I simply felt ready to explode.

Maybe because my hips were off the bed, he finally tugged down at
my panties. I kept my hips up to help him and he moved down to
the bottom of the bed again to pull my panties the rest of the
way off. I know I was soaked, because when I lowered my butt and
lifted my knees and feet to help him finish getting me naked, the
air felt cool against the moisture at my crotch. 

Once my panties were off, Rich moved my feet apart with his hands
and got back onto the bed, kneeling between my legs just as I
had once done with him. When he said he wanted to "do" me the
way I had "done" him, he wasn't kidding. I was like my old Gumby
toy: he could bend me any way he wanted. He slowly moved
upwards, pushing my legs farther apart with his hands, stroking
lightly upwards on my inner thighs, moving his eyes the whole
time up and down my body, from between my legs to my face and
back down to my thighs, with stops between. It was absolutely a
caress; it gave me goosebumps. I remember feeling a drop of
fluid roll from somewhere in my crotch down my butt about then.
It tickled a bit. I guess I was gushing sexual fluids. Rich has
that effect on me.

When my legs were far enough apart to suit him, he leaned down
and kissed and licked me all over the outside of my sex while he
moved his hands up to my breasts and resumed playing with my
nipples. I lay there passively but my breathing was getting
ragged.

Still, incredibly, I hadn't climaxed. His tongue on my sex felt
good but didn't especially heighten my senses, though of course I
enjoyed the sensations. But then he moved his hands back down to
spread my labia and probed his strong tongue directly inside,
into my vagina. I could hear myself going "Unnnnhhh..." -- not
very original, I know -- as I hunched my center up at him again.
God it was intense, his tongue moving around at the entrance to
me like that. Then, slowly, still holding my labia apart, he 
moved his tongue up my sexual slit to wriggle against my clitoris,
and I went off like a stick of dynamite. BOOM boom boom BOOM...

"Oh god, Rich!" I remember crying out, among other things, as the
wave crested, subsided, rose and crested again. Still he didn't
stop but kept stroking the flat of his tongue lightly up and down
and around on my clitoris and the areas around it. He just didn't
stop, and neither it seems could I. When I started to lower my
hips at what I thought was the end, he put a finger up inside me
("Unnnnnnhhh...") and up went my hips again as he licked and
sucked and fluttered his tongue around my clitoris. To my sur
prise, I quickly built up toward yet another orgasm! Soon I was
so hunched up toward his face that I suppose not too much of me
touched the bed, and ("Unngggg...!") here came another explosion.
While it happened Rich was pushing his finger in and out of me,
licking and fluttering his tongue at my sexual center, and I
swear he turned my world upside down. Phew. And I hadn't even
touched him intimately yet. Touched him? I hadn't caught my
breath. He still had his clothes on, for god's sake!

At that point Rich took his hands away from my sex -- okay, my
cunt -- I don't like that word -- anyway he stroked his hands up
my stomach to my breasts. He was looking up my body at me, his
mouth and chin and cheeks shining in the light where he'd gotten
my fluids all over himself. At some point I remembered to breathe
again.

"God, Rich," I said, "no one ever did that to me. I didn't know
it could feel like that." It was true. I'd never been so
completely out of control with anyone. I felt like whimpering.
"God you look sexy," I added. It was an afterthought.

"I'm glad," he said, and moved back up to lie next to me. He
reached down to cup his hand over my crotch where I still tingled
from what he had done. I leaned over to kiss his darling wet
mouth and got my first taste of my own juices. They didn't taste
like much, but knowing they were there made the kiss feel
special. I kept my legs slightly apart so he could squeeze and
stroke and explore me down there with his hand. It felt good, and
I was quickly wet again. When we broke the kiss he bent to suck
at my nipple again. I stroked his head. Except for his shoes, he
was still dressed.

"Rich," I asked him, "please get undressed and hold me. I want to
hold you. Please."

"Anything," he said, and smiled, and got up to undress. He took
his time, which made it very sexy. As he unpeeled his clothes I
realized his body was just as beautiful as I remembered, but
more mature. He had a hint of hair trailing up his lower belly
now, not just on his pubes, and his chest and shoulders were
broader and more muscular, though he still has a swimmer's body,
more lean than bulky. He doesn't have much body hair, which
suits my personal tastes. His butt is a 10, as they say -- small
and round and muscular, just right for his slim hips. It must be
from running track events. It can't be normal or other guys
would look that good too, and mostly they don't. He had his
profile to me, so when he unbent from taking off his underwear I
could see his erect penis standing straight out from his body.
It had grown since our earlier encounters.

I said in my first note that I didn't care if he grew larger down
there, and I didn't; but it was still nice to see that he had
gotten somewhat thicker and longer than I remembered. I guess
it's a bit under seven inches long, thicker in proportion to the
new length, but still on the slim side like the rest of him.
It's about the same length as other guys I've had intimate
contact with (not that many -- three, actually, in two years of
college, plus my high school boyfriend Tom). Not a flagpole or a
"horse," as you people say here, but beautifully right for him.
I guess every guy is built differently in the cock department.
In my own rather limited experience, I think Rich's is utterly
the best. Believe me, at that moment I couldn't take my eyes off
him. It.

He must have noticed me staring when he turned to face me,
because he put his hand around it -- his fingers overlapped, I
remember -- and smiled when I looked back up his body to his
face. I guess I had roaming eyes, like his when he first
undressed me.

"Is it what you remember?" he asked.

"Somewhat larger, actually," I told him. (Hmmm -- I assumed he
meant his penis -- I wonder if he meant his whole body? Well, it
was the right answer either way.) "Still gorgeous. You are
absolutely mind-bending." He smiled wider and I smiled back.
"Rich, come lie down with me. I want to hold you." 

He did, and I rolled onto my side to put my arms around him. He
rolled to meet me and I pressed my cheek against his chest, and
his erection jabbed at my thighs. When I felt that, I reached
down between us to hold him in my hand, squeezing gently like a
veteran groper. My first impression was right -- his erect penis
is somewhat thicker than when he was barely 15. Not enough to
make me nervous, but it does have a nice amount of extra, what
would you call it? Heft, I guess. A bonus. I loved how soft it
felt for being so hard, and the way it responded when I squeezed.

"Rich, can it be my turn now?" I asked him, and he smiled and
nodded so I let go of his cock and scooted up to where I could
plant another big, wet kiss on his mouth. He knew what I wanted
right away, and we went into another deep, lingering kiss. 

I don't know if other women love to kiss like that, deep and long
and with active tongue play, but I can't get enough of it,
provided it's with someone I feel right about and he doesn't try
to rape my mouth with his tongue. It might seem weird to want
subtlety when playing "tonsil hockey," but that's what I'm trying
to get at. Rich understood, and was thrilling to kiss.

While we kissed, Rich stroked his hand down the small of my back
to my butt, where he caressed and squeezed me. His other hand,
the one by the bed, was between us, caressing my breast. I was
gently fondling his very erect cock, stroking and squeezing. It
was a perfect moment, loving and intimate and sexual all at once,
and I don't think the outside world existed.

When Rich tightened his hand on my butt, his fingers spanned the
cheek and spread out on the side of my crotch and against my
inner thigh. It made my sexual parts move around against each
other, a terrific turn-on. Then he moved his fingers over and
down between my legs from the rear; I arched my back to give him
access, and he quickly found my vagina with his long, middle
finger. I could feel the other fingers moving on either side as
he probed and moved his finger on the inside of me. I heard
myself making noises, and couldn't arch my back enough.

While Rich caressed me like that from the rear we kept kissing,
and I started moving my hand up and down on his cock. He was
quickly very moist at the tip, which I remembered meant he needed
release soon. So I broke the kiss, whispered, "My turn," and
tasted my way down his long, flat, hard body. As I dropped lower
he tried to keep his finger inside me but soon had to give up,
and then I was face to face again (so to speak) with his erect
cock. 

He was as gorgeous close-up as I remembered from before,
perfectly proportioned, topped by a reddish head, with blue veins
on the shaft. There was moisture around its little opening slit
and more appeared as I stroked my hand up, but I didn't want him
to go off quite so soon. I stopped stroking and instead put my
hands on his thighs to move them farther apart. I then moved over
to kneel with both of my legs between his knees, as he had just
done to me. God it was a compelling sight, his hard cock standing
up in the air, leaning slightly toward his belly but moving in
time to his heartbeat, and the moisture at the end signifying his
readiness.

I lifted his balls and they felt heavy in my hand; I imagined
them full of semen, though I believe the testicles are not where
semen actually accumulates in a male. (I'll have to look that
up.) But it felt sexy to imagine it that way, and I leaned down
to kiss and then lick the underside of the sack while I stroked
and lightly scratched the area where I remembered he was
sensitive, right behind his balls between his legs, and on back
toward his anus.

He rewarded me with a soft groan, so I kept it up. By now Rich
was stroking my hair as I ministered to him. Finally I licked
around his balls, up the side of his sack to the base of his
cock, then slowly up the underside of the shaft to its head. The
taste of his semen, which I remember well and like to conjure up
in my mind when I masturbate, was strong there at the head. It
had a salty tang that I now associate with the first few drops
(his flavor gets more neutral later during ejaculation). 

I could feel his energies building and knew he would not last
much longer, so I carefully put my mouth around his cock without
actually closing it over him and breathed softly out around it as
I scratched lightly between his legs with my fingernails. I did
not want to just set him off accidentally; I wanted him to build
up to a finish he could never have just gone upstairs to do for
himself, something as memorable as what he had just given me.
Lewd? I certainly hoped so.

So I drew it out as much as I could without being cruel. (The
poor boy did need his release!) I scratched lightly, gradually
back between his legs as I breathed out around his cock with
each breath, and produced exactly the effect I'd hoped for. When
my fingernail actually brushed his anus he went "Oh god, Jee,"
in a strangled voice and hunched his hips up, sending his cock
right against the back of my throat. The contact started him
spurting strongly so I closed my mouth around him, using my
tongue to hold him gently against the roof of my mouth so he
could hunch himself up and down, spurting into my mouth and
throat as I swallowed his output. I don't know how much he
gushed, but it came out in a series of strong spurts that I felt
very clearly, plus a longish period of gradual subsiding. I held
him in my mouth the whole time, scratching lightly against his
sensitive areas and moving my tongue around gently on the
underside of his penis. His explosions felt absolutely glorious
to me; he kept saying my name. Toward the end I reached down to
touch myself between the legs and had a little orgasm of my own,
nothing much, just a small energy release. My mind was really on
Rich and what I was doing to him.

Here's something maybe other women can tell me. Do you find that
taking your man orally to climax and drinking down his fluids is
in some ways more intense than other sexual experiences? I do. It
has to do with being in control, and the lack of distractions
(like orgasms) going on in my own body, and the complete and
utter focus of my partner. Well, I haven't actually done or felt
like doing that with anyone else, but that's how it feels with
Rich. 

In any case, I absolutely did not want Rich ever to stop, but of
course he did finish, and his penis subsided. I held him there in
my mouth until he was completely still, though he did not shrink
all the way down. When I was sure he was finished I took him back
out of my mouth, all drained, and moved my body over to his side
so I could rest my head on his stomach and just gaze at his penis
as it rested there on my hand. With my mouth off it, his penis
finished shrinking and I sort of studied it in its flacc id
state. Memorized it. Male physiology is very strange and
interesting. I was in some kind of dreamy place where I just
wanted to look and look, and maybe go to sleep there and wake up
later and look some more. Not that his soft penis had the same
power as when it was all hard and eager, but it just looked...
nice. Comfortable. I couldn't help kissing the head, which made
it stir a little in my hand, so I moved back up Rich's body to
rest my cheek on his chest and listen to his heart. It sounded
strong and steady.

I guess I dozed because the next thing I remember, Rich was
whispering in my ear, "Jeannie - they're home! You've got to
sneak out of here!"

I bolted off the bed and put on my pants and shirt while Rich put
his own pants back on. 

"I'll go downstairs and tell them you're taking a nap," he
schemed. "You go into your room and come out later, when you feel
like it."

Then he stopped to look at me, got a funny, intense look on his
face, and stepped over to cup my face in his hand and kiss me. I
wondered if he could taste his juices on my tongue, the way I had
tasted myself on him before. I didn't ask. He whispered, "Thank
you, Jeannie. I love you. All my heart." I just put my arms
around him and squeezed as hard as I could, pressing my cheek
against his chest, loving him utterly. I didn't want to let go.

After a moment he disengaged and left the room quietly, then I
heard him clomping noisily downstairs, hollering, "How was the
movie?" all cheerful and seeming like nothing much of interest
had happened. It was all I could do not to laugh as I snuck down
the hall to my room. I lay down on my bed to rest a minute, but
before I knew it, I had my hand down my pants and was rubbing
myself off again, thinking about the encounter with Rich. I just
couldn't help it. I'm not usually that horny -- I'm really not!
But Rich does something intense to me that I can't and don't
want to resist.

So it turned into a terrific visit home. Rich and I got together
most nights and a couple times during the day for sex, though for
some reason we kept it exclusively oral. We didn't have "normal
sex" (as if any of this could be called normal!) until just
before I left for school again. I had no complaints. There are
lots of great variations on the oral theme and we experimented
with most of them. 

For example, the second night after our "reunion," once everyone
else was safely tucked away in bed, I snuck into Rich's room and
we wound up in our first "69." It was Rich's idea; he wanted to
give and get "magic" at the same time, as he puts it. But I'm
sure I would have thought of it myself before long. It makes
everything so mutual, if you see what I mean. It's very
appealing. 

Neither of us had tried this before. I remember lying on our
sides facing each other, exploring each other's sexual centers
with hands and lips and tongues. Up until our energies started
to build, it felt unhurried and sensual and fine; then it got
more hectic. Rich pushed my leg up to get better access so I
rested my knee on his shoulder. He licked and sucked and nibbled
and probed and stroked every part of me, and brought my
temperature up to about 150. At the same time I was fondling
him, licking him all over, nibbling at his sensitive areas,
stroking and tasting and feeling and engulfing every part of him
I could get access to, which was, well, pretty much everything.
It was wonderful.

When orgasm overtook me I just had to roll over on top, bucking
myself down against his face for all I was worth, with my knees
drawn up under me. As my senses raced, he put one finger into my
vagina and another into my butt ("Unnnngggggghh") while he
kissed and licked and fluttered his tongue against my clitoris
-- ye gods did I go off! It's a wonder no one woke up. (We did
try not to make too much noise, of course.) Rich started
spurting into my mouth while I was still bucking against him in
my own rodeo, and I was so distracted by my sensory overload
that I didn't even catch all of his Ricky-juice. Once we both
calmed down some, I cleaned him up by licking his cock and his
stomach and his crotch down by his balls, where the spilled
semen had gone. That seems kind of gross in the retelling, I
guess, but at the time it seemed a natural extension of what we
had been doing. Anyhow it got me all hot again, which aroused
him again, and off we went to another rodeo.

Another night when I brought him to climax orally, I played the
same anal trick on him that he had played on me -- just as he
went off, I stuck my finger in his butt. Boy did that get a
reaction! The next time I took it even further -- I put my finger
into his butt somewhat sooner in his build-up and probed inward
to the music of his groans until I felt his sphincter. Then I
pushed in deeper, past the sphincter into his true insides, and
Rich flipped. His groaning was very sensual and the energy
build-up was intense. Way back there inside him I felt a
swelling through his intestinal wall that had to be his prostate
gland, if my sex ed books told the truth, and I stroked my finger
against it as he spurted into my throat. I was jolted by the
strength of the smooth muscles he has in there, the ones that
pump out his semen. He was spurting with incredible power. I had
an orgasm of my own, rubbing against his leg as I drank him down.
Very intense. I have to say that probing deep inside him was
worth it, even though my finger smelled gross when I pulled it
back out. (No, kids, there was no cork popping sound and his anus
didn't slam shut.) I put his bathrobe on and snuck across the
hall to wash my hands so I could go back and feel comfortable
with him in bed. Gross or not, I could tell it drove him up the
wall, so I'll do it again one of these times, assuming we
continue our physical explorations. (I don't want to stop anytime
soon, but there's always a chance Rich might.)

Mostly we used Rich's room because mine was too close to Mom's.
The one time we used mine instead, Mom and Jody had gone out
shopping for feast-food stuff. I was in my room napping so I
didn't know Rich and I had the house to ourselves. (I was getting
very big on naps -- having sex every night after lights out, then
getting up early so no one will guess, does take a toll.) So
there I was snoozing on top of my bed, wearing loose sweats and
dreaming Rich was licking my stomach. I really liked the dream,
especially when he moved downward toward my sexual regions. When
I dreamed the velvet tongue was stroking my skin below the top of
my pajama bottoms I put my hand down by reflex, and bolted up
when it encountered someone's head! It was Rich, of course,
trying to pay me back for one time when I snuck under his covers
while he slept and took his soft penis into my mouth, just to
wake him up and feel him grow hard there against my tongue. Yow!
That episode has long been one of my favorite lascivious memories
when I masturbate. But it's hard to pull off that stunt with a
girl, especially since my sweats (not the p.j.'s of my dream) had
no front opening for access. And of course there was nothing in
there for him to fish out even if my pants did have an opening in
front. Females are tidier that way than males.

When I jolted upright Rich looked up with such a worried face
that I had to giggle. It seems he thought I was awake all along
because I had been murmuring his name while he licked his way
down my tummy. Well, why wouldn't I? I certainly had zilch
interest in anyone else at the moment. I told him he had gotten
me very turned on in my dream, which was true, and I lifted my
hips so he could pull my pants down and have his oral way with
me. It was a wonderful way to wake up! After I climaxed against
his tongue I pulled up my sweats and told him to get up and lean
back against the door. When he did, I went over and kissed him
(his face was glistening again, so I got another sample of my own
juices), then I dropped down on my knees, undid his fly, and
discovered I couldn't fish his hard cock out of his jeans without
being unkind and bending it. So I yanked his pants down and took
him into my mouth for the most lingering, most sensual oral sex I
knew how to give. When he finally spurted, I pumped my mouth up
and down on his cock, swallowing his output as fast as he
gushed, while I scratched lightly under and behind his balls. I
think his knees almost buckled. I love bending his reality that
way.

The only tiresome thing about my visit was the fear of discovery.
We had to hide everything from Mom and Jody, not easy when
you're busy falling in love. (It does seem that's what we were
doing.) We took some silly chances. On T'giving day we were
sitting together on the couch watching TV while Mom and Jody
messed around in the kitchen right behind us. Since we both had
loose sweats on, I reached inside Rich's pants to grope him, for
no very good reason. To bother him I guess, or maybe just
because I could. Anyway Rich reciprocated my mischief, and the
combination of risk and Rich's growing expertise with my body
brought me quickly to orgasm. My face must have been bright red
from holding in the noises that normally escape me when Rich
pulls my trigger. So I'm sitting there all red-faced, jerking my
hips and clamping my thighs on his hand when Rich joins in, just
pops right off in his pants against my hand. He got semen all
over his shorts and had to run up to his room to change before
anyone noticed the wetness or the smell. I couldn't help
laughing. That was stupid, because my own hand was wet now with
Rich's eruptions and I didn't dare run upstairs on his heels. I
mean, I was sitting there reeking as strongly of semen as he
would have been. I do like Rich's smell when he comes, it's part
of his taste, but it's hard to miss the odor if you know what it
is, and Mom would know for sure. Maybe Jody, too; at 13 she's
getting cute in a swimsuit and I bet the boys have noticed. Jody
did he ar me laughing and came out to ask what was so funny; I
told her it was the TV show. She looked at me weird so I
checked, and it seems what Rich and I weren't watching was a
news report on some gruesome fire someplace. Meanwhile I had my
arms crossed so I could hide my wet hand in my armpit, which
made my shirt wet, so just as Rich came back downstairs I was
rushing up to change. If Jody or Mom noticed our change of
clothes they said nothing, but it brought home to me how
important privacy is in an incestuous relationship -- and how
difficult to find.

The sex we were having was so good I didn't really wonder about
why we never seemed to screw in the normal manner. Finally, on
Friday, before I left for college again, I asked and Rich told me
he thought I might get pregnant and wasn't willing to risk it.
The only condom he had was a permanent resident of his wallet,
the way high school boys do; I think they like the ring shape it
makes in the leather or something. Anyway, he didn't trust it. I
told him I was on the pill now, so if he hadn't been doing any
risky behaviors I would love to have plain old ungarnished sex
with him.

I really did want to feel him thrusting into me, feel him build
to a climax and fill me with his semen. The thought gave me
shivers and I told him so. The next day we borrowed Mom's car
and took off for an overnight "visit to friends," went to a
motel down the freeway a few miles and spent Saturday evening
and most of Sunday morning in each other's arms. That's when we
added "real" love -- coitus -- fucking -- to our repertoire. To
my surprise, considering his inventiveness, it turned out to be
Rich's first time; as I said before, he's on the shy side. It
was glorious, utterly enthralling, and maybe I'll tell about it
in another note. Or maybe not. Right now it feels like it might
betray my darling brother in some way, so I won't. It's his
milestone, not mine, and I ought not to steal it. I will say
this -- I would give anything to take back the few unmemorable
experiences I had in bed with other guys at college so Rich's
first time could also have been my own. But at least I was able
to be there for Rich and I would not trade that, not for the
world.

During our side trip to the motel, once we got comfortable "going
all the way" with each other, we tried just about everything but
anal sex. That, and bringing someone else to the party. As for
anal sex, Rich never asked to put his cock into my butt and I
didn't suggest it. Don't get me wrong, I would be willing to try
it with him if he wanted. I will never turn down a sensual
request from Rich, any more than he has ever turned me down. But
I'm glad the subject didn't come up. Not that we ignored each
other' s anuses (anii?), with all those sensitive nerve endings.
Rich licked my anus sometimes ("Unnhhhhhhh...") when we were in a
69 position and I licked his too. Usually I did that as part of
nibbling and licking the sensitive areas under his testicles and
farther back. I discovered that going oral back there, including
licking his anus, is a good way to keep him on the edge without
actually triggering an orgasm. I can make him really build up
pressure behind the dam when I want to draw things out, hee h ee.
But I will only do his anus when he smells sweet and clean there,
like right after a shower.

Well, I did try it once during a "let's wash each other" bath at
the motel. It took some serious squirming around and didn't work
very well. I'd fooled around with him until he got all excited
and ready to pop but I didn't want to contend with his semen
floating around in the bath water, so I had this bright idea to
keep him at the edge orally for awhile (what power!), then make
him buck after we dried off. Things don't always work as
planned. Rich says he now keeps a picture in his mental photo
album of my face rising up from under his crotch with a bubble
bath beard while he struggles to keep his butt out of the water
without flipping upside down and drowning. Now there's an image
to make the lunch milk come out of your nose.

For his part, Rich likes to put a finger into my butt when we're
screwing; he says it's exciting to feel his cock through my
tissues as he thrusts in and out of me. I'll admit the practice
has a kind of "double your fun" feel that turns me on a lot --
especially when I have my legs hooked over his waist or just
doubled up with my knees next to his sides. In that last
position, whether I'm on top or underneath him, I always feel
like I'm so stuffed with Rich that any more would make me pop.
When I'm underneath I can feel his balls slap and move around
against my butt when he plunges down into me. At such a moment if
I'm close to exploding and he reaches down to stick in his finger
("Unnhhh...'), it's off I go to the rodeo. I'm glad he's careful
to be gentle when he does that, though. It keeps it erotic, not
painful.

As for bringing in third parties or starting orgies with others,
I'm just not interested and hope he isn't either. I only want to
be with Rich. Once we got past our initial fears, we were --
well, I was -- able to accept our incestuous sex as something we
both want to do with and for each other. I love Rich very much,
more than I can find words to express. I know absolutely that
Rich loves me back. I feel no shame around him. He can do
whatever he wants with me sexually, and I will do whatever he
asks. I on ly wish we didn't need to be so secretive, that we
could share what we have someplace other than anonymously on the
Internet.

I think Rich and I have discovered something joyful that we can
take with us into the future. I am very glad. I do believe we'll
probably both end up with spouses and children, and probably
we'll get less physical over the years. I hope we never
completely stop. The experience has simply been too beautiful.

My only reservations have to do with a remark someone made in one
of the incest digests -- there's a big difference between loving
and falling in love. I've loved Rich my whole life. He's been a
terrific kid brother and we never fought much. But right now I am
absolutely, deeply, and joyfully in love with him, sunk happily
into some sort of forbidden delirium that those who have been
there would no doubt recognize. I have a strong sense that Rich
is in love with me too, though we haven't discussed it in tho se
explicit terms. I suspect Rich is being careful not to lay claims
on me, just as I am trying to do with him. We can't afford to
"own" each other.

If there weren't other important family members to consider I
could see us moving somewhere far away to magically become
"married" as far as outsiders were concerned. Someone in this
newsgroup mentioned doing that with his mother! Rich and I look
dissimilar enough (different complexions, for one thing) that we
could probably pull it off. But we do have other important
family. Also, I want to have kids of my own eventually, and I
can't safely do that with Rich. 

Some people, especially those who launched into incest as
children or early adolescents, seem to take it in stride as
merely one more aspect of childhood exploration. But I'm way past
that now with Rich. Most of all, I want to love Rich with all my
heart, and if we let this get too intense or if we get much more
obvious, I'm afraid things will become complicated. Someone
immediately outside our little circle of two could get hurt. That
fear kind of smudges the clarity of everything else I've been
feeling.

For now I guess I will just take it as it comes. I will enjoy
Rich when I see him, love him as hard as I can, hope he loves me
back for a long, long time, and let the future take care of
itself.

Now I'm going to turn off the computer, go to bed, take care of
some personal needs while thinking about Rich, and go to sleep.
I'm glad I could share all this somewhere while it is still so
wonderful and new, even if it has to be anonymously.

Jeannie.in.love

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I want to hear from you if you have had sexual contact with a
family member, and what impact that had on your lives.  The
story doesn't have to be very long, or detailed, or even
sexy.  Just let me know:

        ...with whom (brother, mother, cousin, uncle)
        ...at what age
        ...who initated the activity, and
        ...how you feel about it now
 
Your confidentiality will not be compromised.  Your story will
only be used to continue these postings.  If you would like
to share your story, please send mail to RankAmateur@WriteMe.com.

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