When my sister and I grew up
He returned to his childhood village while already attending university. His cousin was someone he had known his entire conscious life, and this cast a certain tone over their relationship. She was two years older than him.
In a way, she was the leader of the girls' group; she liked to flirt with guys, would sit on their laps, and tried in every way to draw attention to herself. By the time he returned, she was twenty. She had had brief flings with local boys, but they didn't particularly interest her.
When he announced he wanted to visit, she eagerly awaited him. She missed him terribly and towards the end even
counted the days. Once, she dreamed that he touched her between her legs, and it felt very pleasant. She woke up in the early morning and began to enact this fantasy, imagining him doing it, and started touching herself. She rubbed her clitoris and came, very intensely, soaking the sheet and blanket. Afterwards, she felt ashamed and preferred not to think about it.He was an ordinary guy, though with poor health, while she was the local beauty with a straight face, arched eyebrows, and pale blonde hair. She would never have looked his way if he weren't her brother, her beloved little brother. To her, he was a piece of another world, the big city. He intrigued her; she felt jealous of the other girls he told her about without a hint of shame.
That same evening, she showed him a spot by the river where there were no people. They didn't have any swimwear with them. He undressed and, covering himself with his hands, entered the water. She followed him, slipping into the water behind his back. They had missed each other terribly and chatted nonstop. They swam a little, and he massaged her shoulders. She glanced down several times and could make out the vague outline of his genitals. He got out onto the bank and pulled on his underwear. She got out; he stood for a moment, waiting for her to get dressed, and turned around. She stood naked before him, not covering herself at all. His gaze slid over her, and he turned away, feeling a strong surge of excitement.
"What are you..." he said, "get dressed."
"You can look," she said. He turned and looked at her. His excitement grew. She stood straight, in a relaxed pose; she had a beautiful body, tanned and wet from swimming. She came right up to him, took his hands in hers, and kissed him on the cheek.
"Calm down," she said and made him sit on the sand. "Touch." He stroked her left breast and teased her nipple with his fingers; it puckered and became hard.
"We shouldn't be doing this!" he blurted out.
"Why not?"
He was silent. He calmed down a bit, and they walked back, chatting just as casually as before. When they got home, she went into her room and closed the door. According to the rules established in childhood, he couldn't enter her room without permission.
She sank onto the bed, then slid onto the floor and frantically masturbated, feeling the blood rush to her face. She opened her eyes and saw him standing over her. She flinched and froze for a second, then continued masturbating while looking at him.
"Close the door," she whispered. "Turn the lock. Like that... Come here."
He came right up to her, stood over her, took off his shorts and underwear, and masturbated. She pulled off her shorts and underwear. They both masturbated, looking at each other. She pulled him towards her by his T-shirt, and he climbed on top of her. She took his penis in her hand and with difficulty guided it into her vagina. She cried out, her face contorted, and she began to cry softly. He pulled out sharply, and she gasped in pain.
"What's wrong?" he said. "Sorry..."
"It's okay, just very sharp. Keep going... please."
She stroked her clitoris to get wet.
"Try again," he entered her. "Gently... it hurts! You're doing it too sharply... Don't... You need to learn to do it better. I'll teach you..."
He sat down next to her. She took off her top. Her breasts spread slightly to the sides under their own weight. Then she sat up.
"Touch here," she smiled, "move your finger. Like that. Yes..."
They masturbated each other, sitting on the floor, on the carpet. With his free hand, he stroked her left breast with its large, hard, and puckered nipple. After a couple of minutes, he came, splattering the carpet and her legs. She quickly wiped up the semen with her underwear. Then she removed his hand from her and began to masturbate herself, looking at him and stroking his head. He saw her come, a small stream splashing past her palm onto the carpet.
After that, they hurriedly got dressed and took turns washing up. They both felt ashamed, especially her, and didn't speak. By evening, her anxiety reached its peak; she locked herself in her room, lay on the bed, and cried, burying her face in the blanket. Then she fell asleep, and when she woke up, she no longer felt shame and decided that if she loved him, there was nothing wrong with it.
"Let's go," she said.
"Where?"
"You'll find out later, come on!"
They went out onto the porch.
"It's cold here," he said. He was only in his underwear.
"Here, put this on," she took a cloak from the hanger.
She took his hand and led him to the neighboring plot, to an abandoned house. It was dark inside, only the unsteady light of a streetlamp fell through the window. It smelled musty. She took the cloak off him and spread it on the floor. He sat down, and she undressed in front of him and began kissing him, feeling his penis pressing against her through his shorts. He was breathing heavily. Now he was warm. She laid him on his back.
She took off his pants, jerked his penis for a few seconds to warm it in her palm, and clumsily guided it into herself, missing once. She moved on him, rising and lowering her stomach and soft breasts onto his chest, stroking his shoulders through his T-shirt. He came inside her after a minute. It became very hot inside her. Without removing his now-soft penis, she lay on top of him.
"Hey, you're heavy."
She slid off to the side and began to masturbate.
"Should I have pulled out?" he asked.
"No," she answered, "I took a pill."
The next day, she gave her brother a blowjob. It happened unexpectedly. They were walking with her friends along the railway.
Asking the girls to wait, he went down the embankment and walked into the bushes. When he finished peeing, his sister suddenly appeared before him. She squatted down and took his penis in both hands. The penis quickly rose; she took it in her mouth and began to suck. She was doing it for the first time. The penis smelled unpleasant. Her brother gasped and put his hand on her head. She held the penis with one hand and with clumsy but quick movements sucked it in with her whole mouth and released it. She felt the bitter, acrid taste of residual urine, but it didn't bother her. The taste soon disappeared and was replaced by another, salty and slightly unpleasant, and her mouth filled with saliva mixed with his pre-cum, and she swallowed. He came in her mouth, pulled up his pants, and left the bushes. She swished his semen around in her mouth, tasting it, and swallowed again.
They had sex every day. Most often, it happened somewhere in a grove or at night in the shed. Once, they did it during the day in a deserted field, lying on the grass. They completely stopped being ashamed of each other and now felt something more than just affection.