A Christmas Gift From My Sister

“If anything, I think it’s getting worse.”

Becky, my sister, was peering out the window of the cabin at snow that I had no doubt was falling in big, pillowy flakes, just as it had been for the past few hours. 

“They’ll make it,” I said. “Mum will make dad drive through actual hell to get here. You know what she’s like. A little bit of snow isn’t going to stop her perfect Christmas from happening.”

Becky turned away from the window and walked back over to the couch across from the comfortable wingback armchair I was sitting in, glass of red in her hand.

“I hope so,” she said, dropping down into the seat. “But honestly, Jack, I’m not so sure. You can’t even see the road anymore. It’s completely white outside.”

She tucked her legs under herself, and I caught the briefest flash of bright red between her legs as she settled before smoothing and arranging the skirt of her dress. The log fire coupled with central heating meant that the interior of the cabin was almost too warm. When we arrived a few hours earlier, before the heavy snow started, I was dressed in a heavy jumper, jeans and boots, while Becky had worn a woollen dress under a thick winter coat, her legs covered by cosy looking tights cum leggings. Once the fire had been going for an hour it was so stuffy inside that I had swapped the sweater for a shirt and Becky had gone to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with bare legs. I silently thanked the owners of the cabin for overdoing it on the heating; if they hadn’t, I doubt I would have found out the colour of my sister’s panties.

For the following few hours we had drank, laughed and shared memories. Becky was great company, the cabin was very comfortable, and the weather outside made it feel like we were cut off from the rest of the world, which to some extent we were.

I took a long sip of my whisky, savouring the heat it brought to my throat and chest, and forcing my thoughts away from where they were headed. “The weather report said worse case scenario it snows until midnight, then it’ll ease off. They’re used to it up here. The roads will be cleared in no time. Maybe, maybe, mum and dad need to overnight in a hotel, but they’ll definitely be here tomorrow at the latest.”

It had, of course, been mum’s idea to rent a cabin in the mountains. She described it as the four of us having one last family Christmas together. Next year Becky was moving to Singapore for work, and Carol and I were expecting our first child sometime in the spring. My parents were proud of Becky and delighted for me, but my mum had gotten a little bit sad that it would never be just the four of us anymore. Don’t get me wrong, she was delirious at the news of her first grandchild, and I knew future Christmases would be just as special, but I suppose her kids moving fully into ‘adult life’ was a significant marker in her own life. Something was coming to an end, and she wanted this Christmas to be a lasting memory of her family as it never would be again. She pretended to be disappointed when I told her Carol wasn’t going to make it (her dad wasn’t too well but she had insisted that I go), but I knew deep down she was delighted.

“God,” Becky said, tilting her head back and dragging the word out. “You’re always so sensible!”

“Can’t help it,” I replied. “That’s my role. I’m the sensible one, you’re the rebel.”

She laughed. “I’m an accountant, Jack. Hardly the occupation of rebels!”

“I know, but back when we were teenagers you were definitely the rebel of the family. Who got caught sneaking home drunk? You. Who took dad’s car for a joyride and got stopped by the police? You. Who had condoms in their top drawer? Absolutely not me!”

Becky looked into her wine glass and I watched as her eyes drifted to memories of her past. The light in the cabin suited her; a warm, yellowy orange glow from the open fire and muted lamps casting soft highlights across her features. I had to admit, my sister looked great. But then she always had, and no doubt always would. She was a couple of years away from the big thirty, but had the kind of natural beauty that age never really diminished. 

“The condoms might have looked like I was doing more than I was,” she said, snapping me back into the room. “Didn’t need them until college.”

“Oh come on, Becky! You’re forgetting that I’m your brother. You don’t need to pretend!”

“What do you mean?” she asked, genuinely curious and a little bit confused.

I took another drink from my glass, giving myself time to choose the correct words before continuing. I was on my fourth glass of whisky, and my head was just approaching the edge of a fuzzy inner comfort as the alcohol took effect.

“I was on the football team, right?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“And being on the football team meant I saw my fair share of locker rooms, and… heard my fair share of locker room chat.”

“Okay,” Becky said. “But I don’t see what that’s got to do with me?”

I took another quick sip. Becky was looking at me expectantly.

“Well, more than once that chat… was… sort of…”

“Oh for fuck sake, Jack!” Becky said. “Spit it out!”

“It was about you.” I said finally. “I had to sit while guys swapped stories about what they’d done with you.”

Her eyebrows lifted so high I thought they might disappear into her hair. A little blush of colour popped to the surface of her cheeks.

“Bullshit,” she said.

I shook my head. “Not bullshit. Trust me – I was there.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Whatever they said was bullshit, Jack.” She paused, before continuing. “At least, if any of them said they had sex with me then they were talking bullshit. I didn’t… do it until I was in college. Honest.”

There had been several times when one of the other players had told an enthralled audience of teenage boys, in detail, about how they and Becky had fucked. The fact I was her brother hadn’t seemed to matter to them. In fact, more than once they had suggested that if they were me, and had got to live in the same house as her, they would have fucked her by now, or at least spent all their time trying to see her tits or pussy. I had gotten into a fight more than once over that. It was easier to throw fists than it was to admit that trying to see my sister naked had been an obsession of mine during my teenage years.

“Okay,” I said .

She sat up, leaned forward, her glass gripped between both hands. The motion caused a subtle waft of her perfume to drift across the gap between us.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” she asked, her annoyance clear. 

“I do,” I said, even though I didn’t. How could I? The stories had been so detailed that it would have been impossible to have made them up.

“Liar.”

She got up, walked over the kitchen area of the cabin and refilled her glass, emptying her bottle of wine. The bottle of whisky I was working my way through was sitting on the table beside me. I unscrewed the lid and poured a generous measure, spilling a few drops in the process. My hand was shaking slightly. Whether that was because of alcohol, nerves or excitement I wasn’t sure.

“Okay then,” Becky said walking back over and retaking her seat. “Name names.”

“Becky, honestly, it’s okay. For a start it’s none of my business what you did with who, and like I said – I believe you that nothing happened.”

“Name names, Jack,” she repeated, more insistent this time. “I want to know which of those little pricks said they’d fucked me.”

A brief image of my sister naked, on all fours while one of my teammates fucked her flashed into my mind. I ignored it as best as I could.

“Tommy Banks,” I said.

“Nope. I did make out with him a couple of times, but the furthest he got was feeling my tits over my clothes.”

“Christ sake, Becky,” I spluttered. “You don’t need to tell me the details!” I hoped she couldn’t see the swelling in my trousers at the thought of her being touched up.

“No,” she said firmly. “If those little fuckers made up stories about me then I want to set the record straight. Next.”

“Okay then. Adam Geller said you and him did it after school in an empty classroom.”

“Adam Geller is a lying shit with a tiny dick,” Becky laughed. “And I know that because I gave him a grand total of two handjobs, neither of which happened in school.”

“Did he touch you?”

The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I needed to calm down. I was making it far too obvious that I was more interested than any normal brother would have been. Becky noticed it too, and gave me a strange little questioning look before she answered.

“Yeah,” she said. “He did. I let him put his hand inside my bra while I jerked him off. He played with my tits, squeezed my nipples, and came in less than a minute.”

I adjusted my position in my seat because my erection was pressing the tip of my dick hard into the fabric of my trousers, and it was getting uncomfortable. I thought I saw Becky glance down at my lap as I did it, but couldn’t be sure. Had my sister just stolen a look at my cock?

“Robbie Stratford,” I said, keen to keep the conversation going before she changed her mind about sharing the details of her teenage trysts.

“Robbie Stratford,” she repeated with obvious longing. “Now, with Robbie, I would have. He was my first love. I can’t believe he said we’d done it though. He swore he’d never tell anyone what we did, never mind making things up we didn’t do. Why are men such liars, Jack?”

“He told the team that you and him did it all the time, in lots of different places. Felt like every second day he had a new story.”

“He said no,” Becky said. “I wanted to, but he said no. You know his parents were hyper religious? I think they literally put the fear of God into him. Told me some things were okay, but we couldn’t have sex unless we were married.”

“Some things?” I asked hopefully.

Becky smiled and adjusted her position on the couch. Her legs looked so perfectly smooth that I couldn’t help but stare at them as she moved.

“Yeah, some things.”

“Like..?” I nudged.

“Like, everything other than actual sex. He was the first boy to finger me, first dick I sucked, first time I gave anyone a tit-wank.”

I don’t know if she was aware of doing it, but as she spoke her hand brushed something that wasn’t really there from her dress over her left breast then just stayed there, fingers gently and slowly stroking herself. I watched with an open mouth as her nipple stiffened to her touch, visible even through the material of her dress.

“Did you swallow?”

Again, I asked the question without thinking about it, but this time I was less ashamed at having done so.

“Yeah,” Becky said without hesitation. “I did. Every drop.”

The atmosphere in the room had changed. The heat and the isolation felt almost magical now. I could feel my heart beating hard in my chest, and my cock was solid. I made eye contact with Becky and she held it. If she hadn’t been my sister I’d have known that girl sitting across from me was definitely up for fucking.

“What about you?” She asked.

“Me?”

“Yeah. Tell me some of the things you got up to. I know you couldn’t actually have been as perfect as mum and dad always thought.”

The truth was, most of my sexual memories from my teenage years involved Becky. Not directly of course, but she was the girl I was thinking about when I had my first orgasm. Hers was the first pussy I had smelled, courtesy of the panties she left lying on the bathroom floor after showering. She was the first tits and ass I’d seen. I had tried my hardest to see her pussy too, but had never been lucky enough. I had seen the shape of it through her underwear whenever she sat a bit carelessly, but hadn’t managed to catch even a glimpse of it in the flesh.”

“Jack?” Becky asked. “You were miles away for a few seconds there. What lucky girl were you thinking about?”

“No one,” I lied. “You know I was never popular enough in school to get a girl to do stuff.”

“You were definitely horny enough,” she said with a tight little grin.

I looked at her, confused.

“Oh come on,” she said gently. “You don’t think I knew you were always trying to catch a look at me?”

I felt like I’d just been caught, and jumped to defend myself.

“What?! What are you talking about? Catch a look at you?”

She took a deep drink from her glass, titling her head back to drain the last of it. She had the sexiest neck I’d even seen. She swallowed her wine, took a breath then said, “You used to look up my skirt whenever you thought I wasn’t looking, you took my panties from the bathroom floor after I showered, you were always hanging about outside the bathroom just after I showered, you used to barge into my bedroom without knocking when you thought I was getting changed after school, you saw my tits on more than one occasion. I could hear you playing with yourself through the vent between our rooms. I heard you say my name more than once.”

The words poured out of her, as if she was afraid that pausing would break her nerve. I sat, stunned, until she had finished. My face was burning by the time she had.

“You knew all that?” I asked eventually. Her words were so accurate that there didn’t seem to be any point denying it. Besides, something told me that she didn’t want me to deny it; she wanted me to admit to it all.

“You weren’t exactly subtle,” she laughed. “I first noticed my panties going missing, then when I put the rest of my clothes in the laundry later, there they’d be, always tucked slightly under other clothes. I knew I hadn’t put them there. And… I know for a fact it wasn’t my cum that was sprayed on them.”

“Oh God!” I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “That’s so fucking embarrassing. Fuck, Becky, I’m so sorry!”

“Jack,” she said. “Look at me.”

I kept my head in my hands and shook my head. “I can’t! I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be able to look you in the eye again!”

“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “Come on – look at me.”

I slowly lifted my head, and was greeted by something I would never have expected.

My sister was still sitting across from me, but now her legs were opened wide enough that it couldn’t have been accidental. Between her thighs I could clearly see her red lace panties.

“I liked it.” she said, her voice shaking with nerves and excitement. “I liked knowing that I turned you on. I used to feel so guilty about that. I mean, you’re my little brother. I’m supposed to protect you and take care of you, but there I was flashing my panties and tits, and getting so fucking wet doing it. When I found my cum-stained panties in the laundry after you’d finished with them I used to take them back to my room and lie in bed touching myself while I smelled and tasted your cum. I thought I was the worst sister in the world for doing that.”

There wasn’t any other time in my life when I had felt as shocked as I did right then. My sister who I’d lusted after for years, rather than be disgusted by it, was actually telling me that not only had she liked it, she’d also encouraged it. I thought back to all those times I’d seen her tits, and it slowly dawned on me that it had definitely been far too regular to be accidental.

“I didn’t know,” was all I could manage.

“Of course you didn’t! That was the whole point. I told myself that it was fine as long as there was no physical contact between us, and as long as I could believably deny what I’d been doing. I convinced myself that panties and tits was okay, but there would never be any touching, and I’d never let you see my pussy. Having those invisible boundaries made the guilt over everything else just about bearable.”

We both fell silent for a few minutes, the only sound in the room a steady crackle from the fire. 

“I want to see it,” I said eventually.

Becky knew exactly what I was talking about.

I wanted to see the source of my teenage obsession.

I wanted to finally see my sister’s pussy.

“I know,” she said very quietly. “And I really want to show you it. Really want to.”

I drained the last of my whisky. “So… show me.” I said, squeezing my cock.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Becky replied, her voice playfully teasing, her eyes now fixed on the outline of my dick.

I could hear how heavy her breathing was, and I’m sure she could hear mine just as clearly. It felt as if my entire body was shaking. The atmosphere in the room was charged, but delicate. A wrong word, a clumsy move, and the entire thing could shatter before we had done what we wanted. I was sure if that happened we would never again find ourselves in this position.

I slowly got to my feet and began to unbuckle my belt. Becky watched and bit her lip.

“Wait,” she said suddenly. I thought she had changed her mind, was just about to start trying to convince her to keep going, needed to convince her to keep going, but she wasn’t stopping us. “I want this as much as you do, Jack. Believe me, I do. But, we need to be careful. We need rules. I need to be able to sit around the table with you in a couple of days and eat Christmas lunch with mum and dad. I can handle a certain level of guilt, but…”

“What?” I asked her.

“We both know where this could go, right?”

I nodded, imagining how good it would feel to slide my cock into her tight little pussy.

“Yeah, well it cant go there. You cant go there,” she emphasised. “No fucking, Jack. No fucking and no touching. We can look, but that’s all. Okay? I can’t deal with the bigness of anything more than that. Okay? Please?”

I thought about how it would feel to pull a cracker with my sister after finding out how she liked to be fucked. I’ll be honest and say that I didn’t share her concerns about feeling too guilty. I didn’t share them at all. I would have loved nothing more than to spend the entire time we had before our parents turned up fucking each other’s brains out. But, if she didn’t want touching then there wasn’t much I could do about it, so I nodded my agreement.

“Promise?” she asked.

“I swear. No touching.”

“Just showing and looking?”

“Just showing and looking.”

 She leaned forward, spreading her legs wide open, her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. Her pussy looked chubby and soft, wrapped in the lace of her underwear. “Okay then, little brother – show me what you’ve got.”

I pulled the leather belt through the buckle, tugged on it to release the catch. I moved slowly, not because I was trying to be sexy but rather because my hands didn’t fully feel like my own, and I had to concentrate on each movement. I unbuttoned the top button of my denims then yanked to release the remaining fasteners.

Becky’s shoulders were heaving up and down, and from my raised vantage point I could see down the front of her dress. Her bra matched her panties.

She saw me looking and undid a couple of catches, opening the front of her dress up wider and allowing me to see the full curve of her breasts. Fuck, she looked incredible.

I hooked my thumb into the waistband of my boxers and pulled the front of them down, releasing my cock. It sprang upwards and outwards, standing hard in front of me.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Becky breathed. “I didn’t realise how big you were.” She nodded at my trousers. “Pull them right down to your ankles.”

I happily obliged, and in a couple of seconds I was standing with my cock and balls clearly on show. I wrapped my hand around my shaft and gave myself a couple of long, slow strokes. I could feel that my tip was soaked in pre cum.

“Cup your balls,” she said. “Hold them out a bit so I can see them better.”

I did as I was told.

“Jerk it a bit for me.”

I did, enjoying the heat and hardness of myself in my hand.

“I want to see your pussy,” I said, slowing down my hand so that I didn’t cum too quickly.

Becky nodded and stood. We were maybe six feet away from each other. 

“Tell me what to do,” she said. “I’ll do exactly as you say.”

“Pull your dress up to your waist first.”

She took a grip of the material just above her knees, gathered a few inches of fabric, and began to lift her dress, first revealing her knees, then her thighs, and finally those perfect little red panties. 

“Turn around slowly.” My voice cracked as I spoke, my hand still slowly working up and down on my cock.

Becky turned slowly on the spot, showing off a pert little backside that looked good enough to eat. As she turned back to face me I couldn’t take my eyes from between her legs. I had waited so long to see what lay hidden there.

“Take them off. Show me.”

“Say it properly,” she said. “Tell me what you want to see.”

“Show me your pussy, Becky.”

She nodded at that, tucked the hem of her dress under her chin to hold it, hooked both thumbs into her panties, and slowly pulled them down. I watched as a trimmed mound came into view, then the top of her slit. The crotch of her panties stuck in her pussy for a second, before spring suddenly away, and my sister’s pussy was finally free. It was worth all those years of waiting.

I’d been with a few women, and I’d watched more than a bit of porn. I knew that pussies came in various shapes. Becky’s was my ideal version. Hairy but neat, with closed up lips that didn’t show anything other than a little indented line, curving away between her legs. I loved how secret and hidden everything was with a pussy like hers, but at the same time I wanted to see it all.

“Spread it wide for me,” I told her.

She tucked two fingers either side of herself, and gently pulled, stretching her pussy open and showing me her soft, shining inner folds. She was perfectly pink, and I could see that she was wet. I started rubbing my cock harder as I watched.

“I want to see your hole,” I said.

“I can’t do that standing,” Becky said. “I’ll need to sit down.”

I nodded, and she sat back on the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest and opening them wide. I could now clearly see her small, beautiful little hole. I licked my lips.

“You like?” she asked, now breathing so hard that I thought she was close to cumming without even touching her clit.

I nodded. “Can you spread your hole?” 

She instantly pushed two fingers inside herself, making a gorgeous squelching sound as she did it, then opened her fingers wide, stretching her pussy exactly as I’d asked.

“I want to see you cum,” she said, as she began to finger fuck herself roughly and quickly. “Please Jack. I want to see you cum. I’m so close.”

She licked the fingers of her other hand and began to rub her clit, grinding her hips against hand.

I sped up my hand until it was a blur, squeezing and stroking as I watched my big sister stroke her pussy. I could smell her in the room, and it instantly reminded me of all those times I spent smelling her panties and getting off while I did it.

“Did you cum thinking about me?” I asked.

“So many times,” she replied, one hand in a frenzy on her clit, the fingers of the other one slamming hard in and out of her hole. 

“I came thinking about you. I came smelling you. I came into your panties imagining I was cumming inside you. I spilled so much cum thinking about my big sister.”

“Fuck, Jack,” she panted. “I wanted it too. I wanted to sneak into your room and night and empty your balls. I wanted to suck you and fuck you and feel your cum spurting inside me.”

She was watching my hand as she stroked. She looked so fucking sexy, so fucking horny, that I knew I was going to cum.

“Do it,” she said, reading my mind. “Cum for me. I want to watch it happen. I’m going to too.”

She arched her back, pressed the hand on her clit so hard against herself that her knuckles went white, bit her lip and looked right into my eyes.

That was all I could take. I’d held back for as long as I could. With a deep growl my orgasm hit me hard. My legs almost buckled beneath, and I had to put an arm on the chair to stay on my feet. I said her name as the cum spurted out of me. I watched a thread of my stickiness arc through the air and land on her thigh, and that was what triggered my sister’s orgasm.

Her knees clamped together as she came, arching her back and turning onto her side, her face buried in the cushion of the couch, giving me a perfect view of her ass. She shuddered against her hand, her ass cheeks shaking, her entire body pulsing rhythmically, a strangled scream caught in her throat.

I fell backwards into my seat. All my strength had left my body along with my cum. I was struggling to catch my breath.

Becky was still a shivering mess on the couch.

We were both covered in sweat, and the smell of us mixed, hanging heavily in the air.

We stayed like that for a good few minutes, both of us trying and failing a few times to regain our composure. Eventually Becky rolled back into a sitting position, her hair wet with sweat and sticking to her face. I noticed that she now sat with her legs closed.

“Holy fucking shit,” she said. “That was intense.”

I nodded at her. “Haven’t cum like that in a long time,” I said, but it was a lie. I don’t think I’d ever came as hard as I just did.

Right then, my phone, sitting on the table beside me buzzed. A second later I heard a text alert come from Becky’s phone in the kitchen.

Mum and Dad! I’d completely forgotten about them! We both had.

For a few panicked seconds I thought the text on my phone was going to tell me they were a few minutes away, or worse still that they were pulling up outside and wanted help with their luggage. I assumed Becky had similar fears, as she sat fully up and picked her panties off the floor, quickly pulling them back on.

I grabbed the phone and pressed the button on the side to show me the text.

It was from our parents, but it wasn’t them telling us they were almost there.

As I read the message on the screen out loud the panic I felt was instantly replaced by a different emotion; I think it was hopeful excitement.

SORRY LOVES, BUT THE ROAD IS CLOSED. WE’LL NEED TO BUNK IN A HOTEL TONIGHT AND COMPLETE THE JOURNEY IN THE MORNING. YOU TWO WILL NEED TO TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER UNTIL WE GET THERE. HAVE FUN!   xxxx

My sister and I looked at each other…

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/re6kot/a_christmas_gift_from_my_sister