Wild Sex Tales(Erotica)

“Good,” I said, “Let me know when they go further.”

“He’s kissing her breasts,” Jennifer said.

I leaned forward. Took a coral pink nipple into my mouth and lightly suckled. I switched back and forth between my sister’s boobs. Tickled at each stiff nipple with my tongue. She arched her back slightly and kicked out her legs. A little pre-sex stretch.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

“He’s moving his mouth lower,” Jennifer said.

I kissed down her tummy to her twat. I opened my sister’s legs as far as I could and buried my tongue in her center. Any awkwardness, any feelings of ‘wrong,’ had been shoved away. I lapped slowly at my sister’s snatch, gradually working my tongue towards her clit.

I wish I could say that I performed incredible cunnilingus on Jennifer. That I had her screaming in ecstasy with every lick. In truth, my ex had never been big on oral (giving or receiving) and it wasn’t something I’d ever gotten good at.

I hope I was at least serviceable. Jennifer moaned and shifted. I could tell I wasn’t exactly blowing my sister’s mind. I pressed my tongue flat on her clit and rubbed back and forth. I curled my tongue and slipped it inside.

She tasted good. Musky and not too strong. Mostly, I just liked being this intimate with her. Jennifer’s legs around my head. Her pussy in my mouth. Her most private place, now completely exposed.

“He’s kissing back up her stomach,” Jennifer said, maybe a bit sooner than I’d hoped she’d want to. “He’s reaching down, grabbing his cock.

I smiled to myself. This was my big surprise. I reached down for my dick. Quickly covered it in lube. Then brought it up where Jennifer couldn’t see it.

“He’s centering it over her pussy,” Jennifer said, “Pressing the head against her… OH!”

I’d placed the head at her opening. My sister’s eyes went wide, afraid. For a moment, she thought I’d actually done it. Then she looked down and saw the truth: I was holding a dildo in my hands.

She laughed. “That’s very clever,” she said, beaming.

I’d picked it up on the way home from work a few days before. Finding a sex toy shop in NYC is about as easy as getting good pizza. There’s a place in every neighborhood. Or at least it feels that way sometimes.

I know it’s silly, but I’d looked for one that I thought was at least reminiscent of my own protuberance. Pink with good-sized balls at the end. Neither ridiculously tiny nor straight up ridiculous. After, I’d purchased the rubber penis, I brought it home and washed it thoroughly. Finally, I hid it under the bed, waiting for this exact moment.

“Let’s try this again,” Jennifer said. My big reveal had, ironically, messed with the mood a little. She repeated the last few lines. I kissed my way up her stomach again. I put more lube on the dildo, just in case. This time, my sister knew to expect my rubber replacement.

I kissed the head at her opening, then slowly slid forward into her opening. Jennifer’s breath quickened. She gasped.

“Wait,” she said. She put her hand on my chest, pushing me back.

I looked back at her, worried and surprised.

“Is everything OK?” I asked.

“It’s fine,” Jennifer said, “I just…” She seemed to be making a decision. “I’m not in the mood for it right now.”

“Oh,” I said, “OK.” I tried to hide my disappointment. The fact that my sister was setting a boundary was a good thing. “Did I mess up?”

“Oh God no. That was such a good idea, Matt. With the toy. I mean, in the moment I really thought you were about to. You know?”

“I thought you’d like it,” I said.

“You put a lot of thought into it,” Jennifer said, “That’s what means so much to me.”

“But not for tonight,” I said, “Do you want me to do other things?”

“No, it’s OK,” Jennifer said, “Just come here. Hold me for a moment.”

I tossed the dildo to the side and scooched next to my sister. Wrapped my arm around her arms and pulled her close. Her naked body pressed against mine. Jennifer let her head rest on my shoulder. She let out a big, satisfied sigh.

“This is nice,” she said as I stroked her hair. I kissed the top of her head.

“Very,” I said. I hated to keep comparing, but with my ex we almost never lay down together like this. It was always too hot or awkward. Our arms feeling extra, like they were locked in the wrong spot.

With Jennifer, it was like we fit together. She just slid into her spot. I could have stayed that way for hours. Even in the epic heat, her body felt comfortable next to mine. Like it was meant to be there. She played her fingers through my chest hair. We didn’t say a word. Our heartbeats slowly matched.

“Hey Matt?” Jennifer looked up at me. Our faces were so close. We leaned forward.

Our lips touched.

It was like electricity. Like sharing souls. We kissed and, for a moment, we combined into one ecstatic, incredible being.

Then Jennifer jumped out of the bed.

“OhshitI’msorry,” she said. One long frantic word. My sister didn’t even bother with her clothing, just fled from my room, slamming the door behind her.

I got out of bed and went after her.

“Jennifer?”

She was in the living room. Her suitcase was open, and she was stuffing it full while throwing on clothes.

“I have to go,” she said.

“It’s OK,” I said.

“No, it’s not,” Jennifer said. She pulled her shirt over her head. Shimmied her pants up her legs.

“Let’s talk about this,” I said, “Please.”

“Let’s not,” she said.

“Where will you go?” I asked.

“I have a friend from work. I’ll text her on the way. I’m sure she’ll let me crash.”

“Jen, I…”

The door was already shut.

My sister was gone.

*

Jennifer came back two days later, looking bedraggled and wan. I’d been texting her like crazy, but she only responded twice. Once to tell me she was alive, another to say she was coming back to the apartment.

But, as soon as I saw her, I knew it was never going to be the same. Jennifer unpacked her things like she was unloading a coffin.

“I’m glad you’re home,” I told her, standing off to the side. I feared if I came any closer, she’d scamper.

“I’m heading out for work in a minute,” she replied. It was a Saturday. But as soon as her things were unpacked, Jennifer fled the apartment.