I could see the creation of man in those eyes, and felt a stirring in my soul as old as man. Her aura, her countenance, was completely neutral, but those eyes -------.
My father married her mother when she was fifteen, I was older.
I don’t know when it started, but I know for sure what I first noticed. It was her eyes. How they would look at me, linger on mine for longer than a glance. The first time, she looped an arm over the back of the sofa she was sitting on, then half-turned to look at me, I was at a desk behind her. I looked up directly into her eyes. She held my gaze for several long seconds, she didn’t blink, she didn’t smile, she didn’t glance away. I couldn’t read her, but the depth of her eyes pulled me in, I felt like I was going to drown in them. I could see the creation of man in those eyes and felt a stirring in my soul as old as man. Her aura, her countenance, was completely neutral, but those eyes -------. My smartphone beeped, breaking the hold she held.
From that day on it seemed she appeared near me often, watching, not passing time with polite conversation nor intrusive purpose, but just observing with those non-committal eyes. I would see her standing with her back on the door jamb, hands crossed behind her, one leg pulled up, a foot resting on the frame, her loose skirt draped over the upraised knee, she would be watching me as I appraised her pose, her legs, the way the skirt hung, hiding her thighs, but revealing her sexuality.
And she was sexual. She was close to fully evolved as an alluring young woman by the time she was fifteen. To all others, my father, her mother, her teachers, and acquaintances, she was a vibrant adolescent, happy to gossip about boys, swoon over pop stars, and flock with her friends. But for me, she became increasingly more alluring, more intimate. In those days I don’t know if she was being intentional or not, but over time she became dominant in my thoughts, my dreams, my fantasies. And always were her eyes, drawing me into intimacy. I’m not sure she knew how she affected me, but I was ever more drawn to her, to the passion hinted at in her deep, alluring, eyes.
She was on the sofa, her back on the armrest, one leg pulled up, bent at the knee while she daubed polish on her nails. The skirt had slid down, there was barely any cover at the top of her leg. Her fifteen-year-old thigh was smooth, firm, shapely. As I watched her, she lifted her eyes and locked them on me, graced me with a hint of a smile then returned her attention to her toes, making no effort to pull the skirt to a more modest location. Done with the one foot, she straightened the leg then brought the other foot up, the skirt shifted, revealing a glimpse of white lace panties. I could not deny the tremor in my loins as I stared. She again glanced up at me for several moments then began to paint her unpolished toes. She knew I was watching her closely; she knew she was exposed to her panties, but she did not change her position.
My cock was expanding, she had to know what she was doing to me. It was not the first time my stepsister stirred me, but for the first time, stirred me so deeply. I had thought of her intimately before, but that day, not only my mind, but my body reacted to her. Just as she finished the second toe, we heard her mother call out. She snapped her head around, listened, then quickly pulled her skirt to her knees. When my stepmother entered the room, her daughter was still painting her toes, but her legs were modestly covered. That was the moment I realized the girl knew full well what she was doing, that she had been seducing me for years. My stepmom was talking to me, her back to the girl when she finished with the toe polish. She capped her vial, tugged the skirt to cover her legs as she rose, then my stepsister shot a glance of irritation at her mother’s back before walking away on her heels, keeping her toes high as she moved. I got the distinct impression the girl was displeased by her mother’s intrusion.
From that moment on, I couldn’t be in the same room as the girl without gaining weight between my legs. My cock would tremble and puff moderately while my balls hoped. However, no matter what I thought and felt, I would not be the instigator of any intimate moments, if she wanted to further the flirtatious sessions, it would be she, not me to begin. But since that day on the sofa, she hadn’t made any more covert sensual gestures, her demeanor was completely innocent; I was big brother, she was the little sister.
I suffered years of increasingly sensuous fantasies and hand-held orgasms because of my stepsister while she refined her flirting skills. Her eyes were her best outlet for what she was feeling, thinking. Her eyes were the root cause of my attraction to her, but I did not physically act on her provocations. One day late in the girl’s seventeenth year, her mother stopped me as I was leaving the house, “She needs some tampons, she’s in school right now and I don’t have the time, can you get some and take them to her?”
The school administrator sent for my stepsister then she and I stepped away for privacy, I handed her the box of tampons, she colored slightly, “Mom told you I needed these?”
“Yeah, sorry if you’re embarrassed.”
The girl looked at me solemnly for a few thrilling moments then said quietly, “There is nothing you could do that would embarrass me,” she turned and left. I saw it in her eyes before she turned away; her large, deep, entrapping eyes. It was time to make a pass at the girl, and I knew she wouldn’t reject me.
Days later I got a call from my stepmother, “She is sick and needs a ride from school, can you get her, I’m with a client.”
She got into the car, “Thanks, I told them I don’t feel well.”
“You’re sick, what’s the matter, how do you feel?”
“I told them I didn’t feel well, but that might have been a little dishonest. I didn’t want to stay in school anymore today. Mom is busy so she called you.”
“And here I am, lucky for you I could come to get you.”
My stepsister turned to look at me, smiled with those eyes, and replied, “And here you are, but it wasn’t luck.” Her statement struck like a hammer blow to my nuts, she lied to the school and her mother to get me to pick her up early. In the house her eyes conveyed her thoughts, a message flashed between us, ‘we are alone’. As she turned to go to her bedroom, I played on the excuse of her being ill, “Are you okay, can I get you anything?”
“I need to take a nap; can you tuck me in?” she asked without candor as she began to unbutton her blouse. I stood flummoxed, I wanted to act, to seduce my stepsister but there was still a residue of legality holding my urges in check. She stepped through the open bedroom door then turned to face me, those eyes, which had caressed mine for years, held me prisoner as she backed into the room. No more words were needed, our communication was nonverbal, we both sensed it, neither of us denied it, the sensual attraction was too strong to ignore any longer. The final objections were overcome, it was time, our mutual attraction became a need for mutual engagement, mutual pleasure. I was certain I wouldn’t have to attack or coerce her. I stepped toward her, her lips curved as a soft smile, an acknowledgment of what we intended. She stood apart from me while our eyes exposed our need, our lust. She didn’t shy from pulling off her skirt and blouse, then sit tentatively on the bed.
I sat next to her wearing just my boxers, they were tented high over my groin. She moved back, giving me room to join her fully. I stretched out next to her, facing her while my cock searched for her pussy which was hiding behind a shield of panties. Her eyes were fixed on mine, it was of no matter who we were, what we were doing, what our relationship was. She wasn’t concerned; she wasn’t concerned I was her stepbrother, her eyes had one focus, held one goal. She raised her hips off the bed so I could pull her panties down. When she was free of all clothing, I lifted her top leg and pulled her close, my erection projected through my boxers, the head of it dented her pubis, pubic hair tickled the end of it. She laid her thigh on my hip then rolled her hips, sliding her pussy on my cock. I pulled back enough the head split her body then I probed softly for her. I felt when the head of my erection slip into my stepsister, she gasped, quivered, then rolled her back, forcing me into her. She stopped pushing onto me only when her groin mashed against mine. Her eyes fluttered shut then she began to flex her back, we began our first sexual experience.
Her body didn’t resist me, I slipped into her with little resistance, my erection was soon sheathed full length in the depths of her. She lay on her back and watched as I performed the ritual. It was 2:17 in the afternoon on a Thursday the first time I fucked the girl. She reached around me and laced her fingers together, locked around my neck. Her eyes drifted from mine to between us, she was watching my erection as I took my pleasure from between her legs. My emotions, my feelings for the girl had stewed in the cauldron of my balls for years, they were the compelling source of desire and need for the fresh young woman. I slowed to a single stroke every couple of seconds; we watched my erection slip in, then slide out, I was slick with our juices, her cunt was full, soft, puffy, and warm. Deep; so fucking deep and warm. She lifted her eyes to mine then said without voice, “Kiss me.”
I bowed my back to drive my cock as far as I could then put my lips on hers. We made out like experienced lovers but I never moved my erection, I stayed still with my pubis rubbing hers. She began to pant and moan softly, then rolled her hips, she needed me to fuck her. Not only was I physically involved with her, but I was also basking in her willingness for sex, her acceptance of our mutual desire, the powerful surge of lust we were enjoying. She began to fuck me with as much need as I was her. Her pussy warmed, softened, then became increasingly wet as she tossed and moaned beneath me. Her hands moved from my neck to my shoulders where she creased my skin with her nails.
My balls cinched tight against the base of my cock which was bloated with semen, I was ready to cum, I had to relieve some pressure, take my time. I looked down on the girl then pulled away and rolled to my back next to her. She turned her head and questioned, “Are you done?” My answer was to reach for her then pull her over to lie on me, her legs were spread across my thighs, my erection was caressing the junction of her thighs. She arched her back then reached between us to capture me. She guided my cock to where she wanted it then pressed firmly down. When I was deep up her cunt again, she bent her head to put her lips on mine. Her lips were on fire and as they covered my mouth, a long breath wafted from her nostrils as she tickled my lips with the tip of her tongue. I wrapped her ass in my hands, pulled her tight on me then rolled my hips, I began screwing my stepsister once more; she began to gasp, ‘uh’, ‘uh’, ‘uh’, as I fucked her.
She pushed up to sit on my lap, her back was flexing, rocking, as her pussy slid on my cock. She smiled down at me, those beautiful, sexy eyes, ablaze with delight and passion. She paused to suck a deep breath then began to vibrate. Her lids slammed closed then she fell to lie on me full length. Her pussy heated with a sexual fever as her body shook. Her jaws were locked tight as she groaned out her climax. My balls began to jump and rejoice, I pulled from the erotic snare between her legs then coated the vibrant young woman’s stomach with my discharge.
Neither of us tried to excuse or justify what we had done. The time had come to consummate our unspoken attraction, we both knew it, we both felt it, we accepted it, we acknowledged it, we acted with no trepidation. The seventeen-year-old girl had felt the full impact of a woman in heat and had no reservations about letting her stepbrother fuck her. I was relieved I didn’t hurt her the first time and wondered briefly why not. But I didn’t wonder long, her sexual history was of no more interest to me. Just then, her sexual future generated much of my interest.
She went to clean herself, I had to pee. After the bothersome toiletries were done, I settled with her on the bed, we hadn’t bothered to don clothing. She did not try to avoid my eyes; she wore nothing to hide her charms. My stepsister and I began a conversation, an exploration of words that would convey what we were feeling, but avoided excuses or reproach for what we had just done. She lay at my side, her head resting on my shoulder, her hand on my stomach. As her fingers traced random paths on my skin, my cock began to reform. She watched my muscle revive, when I was ready, she pulled on my shoulder, urging me into place between her legs. I penetrated the girl, then with extreme pleasure, I fucked her. I didn’t hold back, I twisted, turned, bent, buckled, and stapled the young woman as she learned about positions. Forty minutes later she was panting, groaning out rushes of shivers and intense seizures as we finished a long afternoon of coupling.
Nothing changed overtly, that night, she, our parents, and I enjoyed dinner together as usual. We sat together for two hours of TV then she bade her mother goodnight and went to bed. She didn’t say anything to me, but when her mother was turned away, she pursed her lips in a silent kiss, smiled intimately, then left the room. I reacted to her as only I could, my cock flexed in my pants, my heart picked up a few beats per minute.
Twenty-eight months later we were lying clutched together in my bed, she was cuddled close, “You bastard, you knocked me up.”
I didn’t take the news the way she expected, not how I expected, my only response was, “Really?”
She looked slightly surprised by my low-key reaction, “Yeah, really. You have to be with me when I tell our parents.”
“I thought you were being careful.”
“I was, you weren’t; birth control is a two-person effort.”
“You want to marry me?”
She rolled to her side, put her large, beautiful eyes on me and said softly, but with emotion, “I’ve wanted to marry you since mom married dad.”
“You were twelve, too young.”
She smiled, “Maybe, but you could have been screwing me even then, but,” she said with a laugh, “you were too fucking moral.” I grabbed her then demonstrated my complete loss of morality.
The first time I had sex with my stepsister was six years ago. Since then, our stepparents have become our in-laws (we didn’t mention the step-sibling connection when we applied for our marriage license).