Now am I Your Girlfriend? (her brothers’s perspective)

Now am I Your Girlfriend? (her brothers’s perspective)

There she was, leaning over me, her sweet, tender nipple grazing my lips. My cock was deep in her ass, and I’d just bathed her rectum with my cum, but still she ground her cunt on my pubic bone until she arched her back, again, and came convulsively. In a few moments, catching her breath, she asked me the same question she’d often ask; “Now am I your girlfriend?”

This time, my answer was different. I was so overwhelmed by the reality of the two of us, together as lovers for over a year, yet still so young. I said, “No, my beautiful little sister. You’re not my girlfriend. You’re my wife, now and forever.”

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How did this come to be? I was fourteen years-old. She was twelve, and literally, my little sister…and I was aching for her hand in marriage. She lay down on me, her lips brushing mine, one little tear on her cheek. “Yes,” she said.

I’m not sure how it all started. We’d always been close, as kids go. She was so pretty, even as a young girl of nine when she’d first asked me that question. I was eleven, walking home from school with her, and for reasons completely unknown to me, I took her hand in mine. I think she was a little startled, but she blushed sweetly, and just barely lifted her eyes to me. “Am I your girlfriend now?” she asked. It was so cute, and she was so pretty, I couldn’t help myself in answering, “Maybe…maybe someday.”

For a few days afterwards, I was a little rattled. Every time I looked at her, she would gently smile, and I found myself more drawn into her beautiful eyes. I would think about her in my room while tossing around trying to get to sleep. Girlfriend? She’s only nine, what does she know about girlfriends and boyfriends? All I knew was I couldn’t get her or her question out of my head.

I did take to regularly holding her hand while walking either to or from school. She’d always sweetly blush, and even giggle a bit when I took her hand in mine. Then, one day, when we got home and I’d closed the door behind us, I was looking at her and bent down to kiss her cheek. It was the first time I’d kissed anyone.

It was the most intense experience I’d ever had. Here my lips were brushing against her face, feeling the textures of her slightly olive skin, taking in the scent of her. That kiss on her cheek lasted a long time.

She asked, “Now am I your girlfriend?”

“Maybe…maybe someday,” I responded.

Not another day went by without me kissing her face. I was mesmerized by the feel of her skin on my lips, her scent, and her wide eyes when I drew back. I remember just lightly grazing her mouth while kissing her, until one day my lips met hers and stayed there. Oh, god, it must have lasted at least a whole minute, and I was hooked. I couldn’t put my finger on what was actually happening, but I knew I wanted to do this with her whenever we could find some private time.

With a sweet smile, she again, “Now am I your girlfriend?”

Trying to hold myself together, I responded, “Maybe…maybe someday.”

What did I even mean by that? Was I trying to figure out my own feelings? Guys weren’t supposed to kiss their sisters, and they certainly weren’t supposed to like it. Girlfriends were, you know, girls — not your sister.

All I know was that sleep was even harder to come by that night. The vision of her beautiful face haunted me. Her large, deep eyes haunted me. Her sweet, soft lips haunted me.

Sleep, or no, we continued the after school routine, until one day I actually put my arms around her as I kissed her. A moment later her arms were around me. Our kisses were long, but gentle, loving, even, if I couldn’t even understand the term.

Again the question, again the answer, “Maybe…maybe someday.”

Even with that answer every time, she just kind of smiled, and if I paid enough attention I would have seen the slightly mischievous smile she’d give me whenever I said, “maybe…”

Of course, by the time I was twelve, I’d picked up enough “talk” from the other boys at school about girls. It seemed so crude. I couldn’t possibly think in terms of “cock” or “cunt” when it came to my sister. She was too beautiful, and we were…we were different. It never occurred to me to attempt anything that would either frighten her or destroy the sweetness of what we had. However…

One day, while my arms were around her, and we were gently sharing our kisses, my hands dropped onto her beautiful round behind. I was being driven by what, I’m not sure…but I started gently squeezing her cheeks through her little girl shorts. She broke a kiss and giggled, then looked up at me. I was staring pretty hard, trying to gauge if I’d upset her. I saw her blush, just a little, and in the next moment our lips were locked again…perhaps more insistently.

Soon afterwards, after our walk home, we were together and I was just holding her. She was wearing a loose blouse and my hands found their way underneath. Oh, my God, I was touching her skin under her shirt. Her scent was rising, and she seemed to melt into me. My hands, once again found their way to her lovely ass and gently squeezed. I kissed her on the top of her head, breathing in her scent, and taking it all in.

Soon enough, our afternoon reveries led to her room. I wanted so badly to touch her bare skin again, so I very slowly started undoing the buttons on her blouse. She just watched with wide eyes, but didn’t try to stop me. When her blouse came off fully, I had to catch my breath. I had, by now, learned enough to know that I was in the territory of sex. But it wasn’t like what the boys at school talked about. My heart felt like it was bursting, but there wasn’t any real urgency…just her beautiful face looking up at me sweetly. It seemed we both knew we were in new territory, but as we held each other’s hands and kissed, it felt perfectly…perfect.

I stroked her stomach, kissed her stomach, her shoulders, her neck, her lips…and yes, bent my head to give her sweet tiny nipple a lingering kiss. My hand went lower, just teasing her waist and the snap that closed her shorts. She was guiding me, no words spoken, to where she wanted to be touched, gently moving herself to where she wanted my hand. I was in awe at the moment.

Of course, over time, both of our shirts came off…and my hand found its way below her waist…and under her panties. I laid my hand gently over her “cunt” as the boys at school called it, gazing in her eyes, and again hoping I hadn’t scared her. But she just smiled and asked again, “Now am I your girlfriend?”

“Maybe…maybe someday,” I said. And she just smiled again.

My hand meanwhile had begun teasing along her cuntlips, and after a few moments she started pushing her cunt into my hand. Our kisses became more insistent, until I slipped my tongue out over her lips. She opened her eyes for a brief moment before opening her mouth just enough to let my tongue slip in. I think we both pretty much passed out then, because I woke to find myself raising my head and seeing her with her eyes closed, gently snoring. That is, I’m sure, the moment I fell completely, helplessly, and totally in love with my sister.

Things progressed further over that summer. Mom was at work, and we’d have entire days together. We’d shed our clothes entirely and lie together just taking each other in. Kissing and touching. One very fateful day I found myself kissing her right where her cunt started its gentle rise below the sweet swell of her lower tummy. She was stroking my hair, and I was so nervous. But her scent, and the fine, tiny hairs on her cunt felt so sweet, I knew I just had to taste her.

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