This the second part. The first part is here: [https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/hsbwhe/the_apple_of_eden_oc/](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/hsbwhe/the_apple_of_eden_oc/)
After we “completed” our biological duties, we decided to take a shower together, since the barriers were pretty much lifted. We were both silent as we cleaned our bodies from our bodily fluids, while my sister was trying to look at any other direction except the one I was in. However, I couldn’t take my gaze away from her. The water drops were dripping on her tanned skin, falling down from her breasts to her tummy and then to the ground. I could watch the movement of the drops for hours. She had soap on some parts of her body, which she was trying to remove with the help of a sponge she was always using while she was taking a shower – I remember even when we were young she used to clean her body with sponges-. But her look was always facing the wall, or the rest of the room, she completely avoided looking at me. She didn’t in fact acknowledge my existence. I touched her shoulder, since I felt the silence was way too weird, but she didn’t react. She didn’t even reply when I told her that I loved her. Nothing complete silence. Then after a few minutes of awkward silence, she exited the shower, wore her bathrobe and left the bathroom, all without speaking a single word to me.
I felt immediately sick. I realized what I had done. I almost manipulated my sister, it doesn’t matter how it happened, the fact is I had enabled that sick behavior. I was the oldest brother, I should have restricted myself. I should have been a real man, not an impulsive sociopath without restrictions. My stomach hurt, I was alone, the mess we caused, the mess I caused, was not even properly cleaned, and most importantly my little sister was sexualized, was harassed by her own brother, the same brother who was supposed to take care of her, and protect her. How was I better than a rapist? How was I better than those douchebags who dated my sister in the past? They didn’t defile her, as I did. They were in fact better than me. At least they weren’t degenerate like me. They didn’t fool around with their sisters. Fuck it, I was sick. I felt the need to just take a bunch of Xanax and end my life, right then and there. I was a parasite, a sexual deviant. I loved my sister, but I couldn’t live like that. With those thoughts in my mind. I probably wouldn’t even be able to sleep again. I remember her childish smile, her laughs, I remember playing with our toys, I remember creating empires, and traveling through the different eras with her. And I destroyed everything in a matter of minutes. Now I was sure of it, her smile would never shine again, she will never like me again, she will never call me brother. I will always be the sexual deviant. She may even tell this shit we did, to our parents. That thought made me sick. I would probably lose my inheritance, and would be kicked out of the house. And what if she goes to the police? In Greece, incest is illegal. I will go in jail, and I will get kicked out of the Medical School. Only for some minutes of bliss. I wasted my future, I destroyed my sister, and I made my family shameful.
I was walking around the living room, pondering, crying inside. I felt seriously ill. Everything seemed like a distasteful nightmare. I wanted to hurt myself, in a violent way, but I didn’t. My parents came, wearing their protective masks, saw me walking around in distress, they asked me what was wrong, but I lied, saying nothing. My mother, entered my sister’s room after a few minutes, making my heart sink. My sister was for more than 2 hours inside her room, and when my mother came in, I was sure she was going to blurt everything. But she didn’t, my mother left her room mere seconds after she entered it.
“What do you want for dinner?” she told me causally.
“Your sister wants pasta, is it ok?” she continued.
“Yeah, no problem” I replied, while the picture of my naked sister filled with my cum flashed in front of my eyes.
I entered my room, and sat on my desk chair. In front of me, on my grandfather’s old wooden desk, medical textbooks and notes were laying around sloppily. So I grabbed the closest textbook I could find –Molecular Biology-, flipping through the pages. I didn’t read a single word, though. My head was about to explode, I was sure I had fever. I tried to take some Xanax, but I remembered I had taken all the pills the past few days. I couldn’t sleep in general, I was too anxious about my classed. I was failing hard, but I have never said a word of it to my parents. To them, I was always the model student. My sister on the other hand was always the one who always tried to punch above her height, the stupid, and the extroverted who didn’t study, like I did. The “bad” kid. I was the “good” kid. How contrived!
After a few minutes- or hours I don’t care- I heard a knock on the door. It was my sister who came in to tell me, that the dinner was ready.
“OK” I replied stiffly without facing her.
She approached me, something which I didn’t want to – I wanted to be left alone-, and she sit in a chair next to mine. She looked at my messy notes, and asked me about the meaning of a medical term.
“I am not sure” I replied, without thinking.
“You know something? I always wanted to study Medicine, like you wanted” she told me melancholically.
“I always looked up to you. You were always organized. You always had great grades” she continued. Why was she telling me that, I pondered.
She stood up. She padded me on my back.
“Don’t feel so bad” she told me, and I replied “you know what? What we did was incredibly immoral”.
She looked at me with a deadpan expression. “It’s not like you forced me” she told me, and afterwards she went to the kitchen. I begrudgingly followed her.
We ate silently, we didn’t look at each other. Our parents were fighting outside, but I didn’t care to learn the purpose of it.
The days passed, my relationship with my sister was minimal at this point. We talked for a few seconds, we didn’t see each other. Everyone was sheltered in their rooms. The only thing we did together is hear the news about the pandemic. It was awful.
Pictures of my naked sister continued to appear in front of me, and haunted me even in the few hours I managed to sleep. Despite, the immorality of my actions, I still lusted after my sister. I still wanted her. When I was hearing her entering the bathroom, and taking a shower I was imagining grabbing her breasts and licking them, taking her ass and kissing it, pulling her in top of the toilette and fucking her brains out. Degenerate thoughts from a decadent era. I desired her. I wanted her inside me. But I knew those actions were despicable, and should not be left unpunished.
I grabbed another textbook from my desk, this time Female Reproductive Organs. I saw sketches of the labia, the clitoris, and the vulva in its entirety, pictures of all that stuff, and I couldn’t take my mind off my sister’s own parts. I compared the mental image of my sister’s vulva, and the ones depicted in the book, and always my sister’s was the best, the most elegant, the most beautiful. I could examine her body for hours, from her beautiful brown eyes to her dexterous manicured toes. She was the reincarnation of Aphrodite, she was the goddess of Lust. She was the forbidden fruit I tasted once, and now I want its taste again.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/hsxknz/the_apple_of_eden_part_2_oc
Part 3?