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This story contains descriptions of close family members engaged in entirely inappropriate activities that some may find either disturbing or hot. If you find family members fantasizing about or taking liberties with each other or otherwise behaving in naughty ways, then you probably should stop reading right about… now.
All characters in this story are fictional and are eighteen years or older. Any resemblance to any real person, living, dead, or under the age of eighteen, is in your own dirty little mind. Sadly, most of the events portrayed in this story are not based on true events. I wish.
If you are still reading and are not offended by SILF or BILF and believe siblings behaving in very naughty ways is hot, I hope you enjoy this story. And if you have not read chapter 1, go back and start at the beginning, will ya? Jeez!
Where were we?
Right, my half-sister, Huong, had started sleepwalking again. She is half-Vietnamese, half our dad, born 2 1/2 years after me. Smarter, more outgoing, and significantly better looking than me, we bear no resemblance to each other. With my blond hair and blue eyes, I don’t look Asian at all, because I am not.
Despite our outward differences, we were always close. I did not consider her my half-sister; she was my sister. Period. And I loved her like a sister.
As I found out, that summer of her sophomore year in college, her sleepwalking was making me realize I loved her in other ways, too.
The next night, a soft sound awakened me. Close by, in the hall right outside my room. There was Huong dressed in her sleeping shirt, shapely bare legs sticking out, heading straight for the stairs.
Gentle as possible to avoid awakening her, I turned her by the shoulders to guide her to her room, but she kept pivoting toward mine. She’s a strong little thing and determined when she sets her mind to something. Awake or asleep.
Whatever the point of her somnambulism, sleepwalking back to her own bed was apparently not it.
Mind you, I had no problem sharing a bed with her again. If she dreams of snuggling up with me for another night, may her dreams come true. It just seemed to be taking advantage to guide her to it myself. Let her decide.
And she did. Honest, I tried, but her sleeping little mind was set on my bed, so I let her have her way. It is easy to convince yourself the purpose was to avoid startling her awake.
By this point, I was quite enamored with my sister’s breasts. I considered myself a big-boob kind of guy, but these tiny titties were growing on me. They weren’t all that tiny, either. And they were my sister’s, which made them even more special.
I played with each one before settling the hot dog in its bun and drifting off.
The alarm woke me at three.
Her breast was still in my hand, just as when I fell asleep. And I must have stayed hard all this time. Did this longevity happen on nights when my sister’s bum was not wedged against my stiffy?
“Is it your shift to keep me from walking into the street?”
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! She’s awake and I’m holding her tit! Worse still, she had to feel my wood. Oddly, she lay still, as if waking up with your brother groping your boob and pressing his cock against your bum cheeks is the most natural thing in the world.
Remain calm! As long as she is cool, act like nothing is happening.
“I guess so. Must be 3:00 already.”
The phone kept playing my wake-up tune. “Are you going to get that?”
“Oh, right.” I had to let go of her boob to shut the phone up. “It takes me a minute to–“
“Same with me. More, I guess, if you count when I’m wandering around the house in the dark. Doesn’t it bother you when I wander in here in the middle of the night?”
“Not really,” I answered, playing it down as much as possible. “Better than the street or a pool.”
“Listen, I’m sorry…”
“When the alarm went off, I had my hand on your breast.”
She rolled onto her back. “If I can’t control what I do while asleep, I can hardly fault you for what you do in your sleep.”
I could have let it go at that. I should have. Absolution, for at least the current grope! But I felt like a fraud and owed her honesty.
“I touched you when you came in here. Before I went back to sleep.”
“Really? Hmm. I wondered about that.”
“This is the third or fourth time I woke up here, and I wondered if you ever took liberties.”
“Huong, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She laughed. Laughed! “I suppose it’s the least I can do after bothering you so much.” She turned the rest of the way to face me, her face on the pillow inches from mine, breath warm on my face. “But don’t get any ideas–stick your hand down my panties while I am asleep and I’ll cut your fingers off with garden shears.”
“Aren’t you angry?”
“At what? I owe you my life, and all you’ve asked for is to touch my tittie. Seriously, if a girl climbs into a guy’s bed, her bahis siteleri boobs are fair play.”
She knew it wasn’t just her boobs, either. She felt my cock when she woke up. I love that girl! I have the coolest sister on earth. To top it off, she hugged me. Not some brief hug, but a real embrace. “Thanks for being honest with me. I wish other guys treated girls the way you treat me.”
Chivalry is not dead! Nor is groping, it seems.
“What happened with you and that asshole?” I avoided saying his name. PTSD and all.
“He turned out to be like every guy. All they want is the Asian experience. Soon as they get it, they get all squirrelly, scared that Mama won’t accept her little boy dating a Gook. That’s why I almost never let a guy get what he wants. This time, I let my guard down. Soon as he screwed the Asian girl, he began to lose interest.”
“That really sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Well, it won’t happen again. From now on, every guy I date will know right up front that I am celibate until marriage. ‘You want the Asian experience? Prove it, buster!'”
She was still hanging on to me, and me to her. And my cock showed no signs of abating, even with this piece of discouraging news. I guess it did not understand a guy cannot marry his sister, so it was SOL. Cocks are ever optimistic.
The tip of her nose was touching the tip of mine as we gazed into the eyes of the one person on earth we both trusted with our lives. “Have you ever had the Asian experience?”
“I haven’t had much experience.”
“That is so sad! You are the best guy. Okay, maybe a little hard to get to know. I can’t believe I just said hard.” When we stopped laughing, she put her nose back to mine and cradled my face in one hand as gently as I had been holding her breast when she woke up. “I’ve got to fix you up with one of my friends. One who is deserving and good. Don’t worry, she’ll be hot, too. I haven’t forgotten you’re a guy.”
Those full lips planted a big, wet kiss on my cheek. Okay, maybe not wet, but I felt the spot on my face long after she was back in her own bed. And it felt moist.
A few nights went by without incident. The medication must have kicked in. The doctor said it had a cumulative effect, and he seemed to be right. I missed cuddling with Huong. Not just because of playing with her boobs or the warm pressure on my nighttime wood. Or the nipples that tormented way too many of my waking thoughts.
I would enjoy cuddling with any woman as gorgeous as her. And I enjoyed cuddling with my sister. Although she joked off the groping, it must have shocked her back to normal, with a little help from modern chemistry.
I did not ask for these feelings about her. I did not want them. But I sure enjoyed them.
When my alarm woke me every morning at 3:00 and nothing ever happened, I seriously considered flushing her pills down the toilet.
Just when I had given up hope of ever touching my sister’s breasts again, one night I awakened to the now-familiar sensation of my bed shaking.
Moonlight streaming in lit up Huong kneeling in the middle of the bed. Her hair hung long over a pale tee-shirt that almost glowed in the dim light. I swear, she looked like Samara in The Ring, hair almost completely covering her face. She just knelt there, staring down at me, I guess, although hair and shadows made it impossible to see her face.
Then she reached down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head.
Few things in life are as sexy as a woman’s breasts with their arms stretched out over her head, and it took a couple of seconds for her to pull it free of her head before her hair cascaded down over her breasts, hiding them from me again. Perhaps the only thing sexier than breasts with arms held high is long hair hiding breasts. Even if those breasts are not your sister’s.
After dropping the nightshirt somewhere, she knelt there motionless.
Is she sleepwalking?
She must be, I decided. Different, a new and intriguing twist, this somnambulist exhibitionism, but Huong would not do this consciously–would she?
The only way to handle this was to lay her down and let her sleep it off. In the morning, I’d explain how her shirt ended up on the floor. I had never touched her bare breasts, but I didn’t need any more sleep that night.
I sat up and tried to maneuver her down, but it was like that night I tried to steer her back to her room. She wasn’t having it.
Instead, she kissed me. Not on the cheek this time, but flush on my lips. This one was wet, and her lips clasped onto my upper lip. Her tongue floated along my lip.
Was she sleepwalking or was I dreaming?
No matter how I tried to ease her down beside me, she held her ground, taking my cheeks in her hand and giving me a deep, sweet, amazing kiss. As her tongue slowly circled mine, my hands ran up and down the silken skin of her back. Under her hair, down to her panties.
I took one precious, hair-draped breast in my hand. Her response was to kiss more passionately. Eventually, I brushed aside her locks to feel the canlı bahis siteleri satin skin of that firm breast against my bare hand.
She pushed me back, and I lay there with my eyes transfixed on her one exposed breast, pale in the moonlight with a milk-chocolate center. About the size of a chocolate kiss, but a billion times more alluring. My head lifted, drawn toward that delightful milk chocolate treat, but a hand on my chest pushed me back down.
Then she gave me the greatest shock of my life by tugging down my boxers.
Yeah, I made it easy for her by lifting my butt. Who wouldn’t?
One tiny hand threw her hair back over her shoulder with a flourish, exposing the other perfect, pert breast. For the first time, I could see her face clearly, and her expression was like she was holding back a laugh.
By moonlight, she looks like an angel.
Like that night in the bathtub, my cock pointed up at her, full of hope. Huong glanced down at it and smiled–a far less angelic smile. Without a word, she dove straight for it. She covered my rock-hard dick with a flurry of sweet little kisses. I was freaking gasping with delight! Never in my wildest dreams had I dared imagine something like this!
Her lips took in my purple helmet.
“Huong, you don’t have to do this.”
She did it. Her lips slid down over me. Like her boobs, firm yet soft, in absolutely perfect balance. I felt air escaping from my lungs and assume I made some sort of noise as her tongue played along the side of my cock. Boobs forgotten, I focused on those luscious lips as my rod slid in and out between them in a steady, fairly quick rhythm.
I wish I could tell you I lay there enjoying it for a half hour, but I simply could not control it. Maybe I held out 30 seconds. I could have fought it, but she might wake up at any second. Or I might wake up. I owed her fair warning, though, so I touched her shoulder and said, “I’m going to come.”
She dove a little deeper this time and sped up until I blew a massive, ecstatic wad into her mouth. She drank me down like I was the most delicious Slurpie in history. And she did not stop until the straw was empty and there was nothing left to taste.
By this point, I was pretty much in shock. A really great shock. What comes next? What do you say to your sister after a surprise midnight blowjob? A fantastic surprise midnight blowjob, at that.
Then I saw her face again. That expression she had when she walked in on me in the tub. Holy fuck, she was sleepwalking!
She pulled her panties over her slender hips and before that shock set in, had straddled me and began knee-walking up until reaching my pillow. Her hands braced against the wall, and mine grabbed her breasts. Her crotch only inches above my face, and although I could smell the sweet, temping aroma, it was too dark to see. What I’d give for more light!
I lifted my head, reaching for her with my tongue until it reached warm, impossibly soft flesh.
That must have been what she was waiting for. She lowered herself toward my tongue, which I made sure was not hard to find. Her tender lips opened to me, sweet wet essence on my lips, and my tongue was inside her.
This was all so surreal, my sister’s behavior so out of character. It was wrong, and I tried to convince myself she must be awake, but one taste of my sister’s vaginal juices overwhelmed any moral compass.
She wants this; I convinced myself. She wants me.
Once, as a kid, I tripped at the top of the stairs and fell all the way to the bottom. That feeling as I began to tumble over, knowing there was nothing in my power to stop the inevitable–that is how it felt. The instant her lips touched the head of my prick destroyed my power to stop this.
Her clitoris was easy enough to find. Tiny, hidden, secret. Wonderful. She reacted, of course, by flexing her hips, driving in a motion I never conceived my baby sister could ever move. Truth be told, she probably never imagined me tonguing her pearl.
Or had she? If sleepwalking, it was a kind of dream. And what are dreams but repressed thoughts and fears and desires? If awake, how long had she been planning this? Better than a seduction, and impossible for me to object.
As if any human being could object to this.
I wanted to push my face far inside her, for my tongue to lick deeper than she has ever been touched. I longed to fulfill her deepest, darkest desires. I wanted to give my sister an orgasm, while wondering if an orgasm might awaken her.
She made not a sound, but expressed her pleasure in increasing, halting motions. I feared that climax because I never wanted this to end. I love how she felt. Her taste.
When she came, it was without a sound. Only tiny quakes. Wave upon wave. Thighs shaking, stomach undulating, hips pressing her hard against my face.
Then her hips lifted. I tried to follow, my needy tongue reaching as she moved out of its reach. She climbed off me.
Her failure to answer terrified me.
Without a word, she lay down beside me. I covered canlı bahis her with the sheet and held her close.
And I slept.
“What happened?” Still spooned in my arms, Huong was awake, her breast in my hand again, only this time skin on skin. Her voice shook with terror.
“You walked in, climbed into bed with me and took off your shirt.”
“Is that all?”
“No.” I patted her bare hip.
“Oh Jesus! I’m naked!”
Brace for impact! How would my sister react to being molested? Screaming? Punching? Gunshot?
“Huong, I swear to god, you did this yourself. I would never take your clothes off while you were asleep.”
It began to sink in. “Oh shit, you didn’t screw me…?”
“No! Of course not. Not while you were asleep!”
“How could you think I would make love with you when you are unconscious?”
“Then what did we do?”
“You gave me oral sex.”
“Yes I did.”
“Yes, you did. Every drop. I mean, you literally sucked it out of me…”
“No, stop. I get it.” She paused to ponder, perhaps trying to remember. “Well?”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Oh, hell yeah! You were fantastic. I mean, truly amazing.”
She sighed in relief. “Well, that’s good.”
“You seemed to enjoy it, too.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“That’s not all.”
“There is more?”
“A lot more. Why do you think your panties are over there?”
“What did you do?”
“It’s what you did. You took off your panties, not me. And then you climbed up and…”
“You sat on my face.”
“No, I did not!”
“You did. Enjoyed the hell out of that, too.”
“You don’t remember any of that?”
“Not a thing.” She sits up. “The last thing I remember is going to bed. My bed. When I woke up here, buck naked, I figured something like this must have happened. To be honest, I figured you’d, you know, taken advantage.”
“I wouldn’t do that to any girl. Well, maybe Anna Kendrick, because I doubt she’d do me when she was awake.” By this point, she was sitting up, topless and chatting with me. It took every ounce of my self-control to avoid staring at her pretty titties. “Do me a favor and put your nightshirt on, will you?”
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like my tits? Are they that sad?”
“I love your tits. They are… spectacular. That’s the problem.”
She noticed the tent I was pitching right away.
“Well, that’s nice. How devastating if my own brother didn’t like my tits.”
“They are beautiful.”
“I’m not just saying that because I am your brother.”
“I can see that.” Those dark eyes drifted down to my tent. “Listen, I want you to know I don’t normally, you know. Swallow. As in never.”
“Until tonight. And you were really into it.”
“Well, I probably figured it’s like my own. I mean, half the DNA is mine, right?”
“I’m pretty sure I would not enjoy slurping down my own cum.”
“Was I really into it?”
“Totally. Surprised the hell out of me.”
“The whole thing came out of the blue. Are you trying to torture me by showing your breasts like that?”
“They are beautiful breasts.”
She wiggled her shoulders a little, showing off. This was a new side to my sister, one hard to accept. Free and shameless.
“The problem is, I don’t remember any of it. Hard to accept I acted that way while asleep. If there is one thing a girl should remember, it is brother sex. I bet you never will forget what happened.”
“No chance I will ever forget last night.”
“Pleasant memories, I hope.”
“Top 3, and I can’t remember what the other 2 are.”
“Doesn’t seem fair for you to remember me in such a secret way while all I have is a blank slate.”
“Now that you mention it, it does sound unfair.”
“Particularly since I let you do something to me I have never let anyone else do.”
She put one finger over my lips to shut me the hell up before I said cum. “You’re the only one.”
For a minute, we sat there side by side, naked under my tent, her breasts uncovered. Mornings after can be terribly uncomfortable, depending on how stupid you acted. Imagine having no memory of blowing your brother!
“Okay, this is going to sound weird. Promise not to get mad at me.”
“This whole thing has been weird,” I said. “Right now, I cannot be mad at anything you say.”
“What if we create a memory for me, too?”
“Something like last night?”
Her hand reached for my thigh–not in a sensual way, the way women react when they say something wrong and catch themselves. “I didn’t mean to offend you!”
How could anyone be stupid enough to be offended by their sister suggesting they should have more sex? “A little shocked is all.”
I suppose half the men on earth desire to be inside their sisters. To see their naked bodies, to touch their tender flesh. Taste them. To feast upon the forbidden fruit and for her to spread her legs before him, inviting him to plant his forbidden seed inside her. Sharing the most joyous intimacy between those born with the most intimate bond, an intimacy deep as their own chromosomes.
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