The next morning, I woke with a start. Had I really been sexting with my sister Tanya, or was it a fever dream? With trepidation, I opened my phone and clicked on Kik. I clicked on the photo message and her nude body filled my screen. And in the background, that damn picture of Tahoe, a dead giveaway.
Moving my fingers across the screen, I zoomed in, trying to see more of the subject’s face. Unfortunately, Tanya had a big iPhone which obscured nearly her whole head. Although I couldn’t see her face, I knew it was her.
As I lay in bed, I faced a decision point, do I: (1) ghost Tanya, although I desperately want to keep going, (2) tell Tanya and risk her embarrassment, or (3) do I keep going and see where this takes us? Clearly, my cock was voting in favor of option three.
With shaking fingers, I typed out a message: “A modest reaction to last night’s photo…” After pushing send, I lifted the sheets and gripped my cock, the veins pulsing as I stroked it a few times. I took a closeup of the smooth and swollen head, a bead of clear precum resting on top. Within seconds, that image appeared on Tanya’s phone.
I didn’t know it, but Tanya was walking out of yoga glass when she received it. She opened her phone, staring at the throbbing cock filling her screen. She wanted to feel it in her throat, she wanted to taste that precum on her tongue. She had never wanted anything so badly in all her life, her husband simply wasn’t satisfying her anymore. As she stared at the photo, she felt the familiar excitement of arousal in her belly, and walked quickly to her car. Tanya tossed her duffel bag in the back and sat down in the driver’s seat. Reclining her chair, she reached a hand down her white yoga pants. Staring at the photo, she began rubbing her pussy, imagining that cock entering her for the first time and filling her with cum. Suddenly, she spasmed as orgasm overcame her, harder than she’d cum in years. As she came, one of her legs tensed up and pressed the break pedal to the floor. To passersby, it would have looked like someone turned on the car’s emergency lights.
As the orgasm subsided, Tanya looked down and noticed the crotch of her yoga pants was absolutely soaked with pussy juice. With a smirk, she pulled the fabric tight, creating a deep camel toe, the wetness obvious. She quickly took a photo, trying to catch every detail. With a push of the button, she responded to me.
As I made my cup of coffee, I opened my phone to the sight of Tanya’s gorgeous pussy. I gripped the table, knowing that the emotion of this experience would only increase with each text or photo.
I had roughly two and a half days to get a better understanding of what Tanya wanted, and to get her in the right place to make her own decision about whether to proceed. The one thing I knew is that I didn’t want my sister walking into my hotel room in a gorgeous dress and her black fabric mask, only to suffer the irreparable embarrassment and shock of discovering that she’d set up a fuck session with her own brother.
I had to ease her into it, and she had to make the decision herself. I had a few ideas. Today, I was wearing a vintage watch than our father had left me. It was nothing too unique, the same silver watch with a black face worn by thousands of other businessmen, except for one thing. On the top bracelet link, next to the watch face, my father had his initials inscribed “T.D.” Over the years, the metal engraving had been scratched and faded, and it was somewhat hard to read. Nonetheless, this was step one.
Sitting at my desk, I took a yellow legal pad and a thick-tip blue pen and wrote the words: “I can’t wait to hear you beg for my cum.” I then took a picture of my message, along with the pen in my hand and the watch on my wrist. I pushed send, taking a deep breath.
A few seconds later, I saw that Tanya had read my message. I sat staring at my phone, not knowing whether she noticed or whether she’d even respond.
A few minutes later, I received her response: “don’t worry, the words are already on my lips.”
Throughout the day, we kept chatting, teasing one another with dirty messages about Friday’s planned activities and our anticipation.
As I sat down for dinner, I decided to raise a more serious subject: “can I ask, what’s your motivation for meeting up with a new man?”
“You’ve seen nearly every inch of my body so far, so you can ask anything. I love my husband very much, but for the last year or so, we’ve had a lot of difficulty in the bedroom. About two years ago, we tried very hard to get pregnant, but didn’t have much luck. About six months ago, he finally got tested and the doctors determined he is infertile. His cock works fine, but you can tell the emotional drive and confidence just aren’t there.”
Although Tanya and I were close, this news to me. Here I was, her brother for three decades and she was more candid with a stranger she met off the internet. What had I done wrong, so that she felt she could not share that with me?
Taking my time, I responded: “I’m sorry to hear that, I know it can be extremely hard. I’m glad that he’s enabled you to receive that passion and satisfaction elsewhere.”
“Me too, he’s been very supportive about this. Every day, I tell him a tiny bit more about you. I’ve been calling you ‘Mr. Wonderful.’”
I responded “I like my title, I’ll have to work hard to earn it.” [Send]
Before Tanya responded, I asked another probing question: “do you still want to have children?”
A few minutes passed and then suddenly: “I do, although I’m indecisive about adoption versus artificial insemination. I know I’d love the child either way, but my maternal instincts, whatever they are, make me crave the experience of carrying the child inside me.”
As I read the words, I pictured Tanya’s swollen belly and breasts as her hypothetical pregnancy developed. Pushing that thought from mind, I turned back to an easier subject.
“You said I’ve seen nearly every inch of you, show me what I haven’t seen.”
A few hours later, my phone chimed and once I’d opened the picture, my jaw nearly dropped to the floor. On the screen was my sister, on all fours facing away from the camera, her ass up in the air and her tan lines covering her thick cheeks. The photo was taken on her bedroom floor, directly in front of her marital bed. I zoomed in and examined her tight little asshole, right above her pussy lips. It was slightly darker and wrinkled, but it looked perfect. My mouth watered as I thought about burying my face between those cheeks.
Suddenly, a realization washed over me. This photo was taken from up high, about four feet off the ground. Tanya didn’t have any bookshelves, or furniture to rest her phone on.
Her husband Brandon has taken the photo. The thought nearly made my cock burst. Somehow, I’d stumbled into a situation where my brother-in-law was taking nudes of my sister for me. I don’t know if I won the lottery or I’m going to hell.
The next day, things progressed according to plan. I inserted a few more clues into my photos, my leather wallet in the background, the sunset view from a nearby neighborhood park, and even one showing a lamp in my living room. With each photo, there would be a long pause and then she’d respond enthusiastically and we’d pick right back up.
Finally, Friday morning came and I knew it was time to make sure Tanya knew who I was. Bear in mind, she didn’t know that I was aware of her identity. To accomplish this, I took another photo of a depraved handwritten message on a legal pad:
“After Friday, you’ll be leaking me for days. I’m going to fill your womb with my cum.”
This time, I left a business card with my name strategically positioned behind it. The text was unmistakable: “Harry Donellson.”
This time, the gap between my message and her response was pretty long. I was worried this revelation had broken the camel’s back. But as before, after a while, she started typing a response to me.
We planned on meeting six hours later, and our chats died off as we both prepared. I took a hot shower and shaved, and as I picked out a black suit and white shirt, my phone rang. It’s Tanya.
“Hello?” I asked tentatively.
“Hi Harry, how you doing?” Tanya asked casually.
“Not too much, making dinner and relaxing. What are you guys up to?” I said lying.
“Nothing, probably staying in and finding a movie to watch. Brandon made dinner, so we’re going to sit down soon. What are you doing Sunday? Want to come watch the Giant’s game at our house?”
From the tone of her voice, it was like Tanya didn’t know I was Mr. Wonderful. This was the same type of check-in and family planning that we’d done for years. So, I played along.
“That sounds great, just text me if you want me to get anything.” I said.
“Sounds good, see you Sunday. Love you.” Tanya responded.
“I love you too, see you then.”
I hung up the phone, confused about whether she was speaking in code, was trying to trick me, or was subtlety trying to cancel our date tonight. Nonetheless, I put on my suit, got ready and drove to the hotel.
After checking in, I asked the Front Desk to provide a key to my guest and I messaged Tanya my room number.
Then, the waiting began. I went into the room, called down for a bottle of champagne and then took a seat. My cock was so hard, and yet, I had no idea how the night would play out.
Would I get slapped, would I ruin our family, or would I explore something so exciting, I could barely breathe?
Twenty minutes past our planned meetup, I looked down at my father’s watch. As I watched the second hand, I heard a key in the door. As I turned my head, I suddenly saw a beautiful athletic leg slide through the slit of a cocktail dress as this vixen strolled in the room.
As I stared in disbelief at my masked sister, her tall heels and short dress showing off her curves, the champagne glass slid from my fingers and tumbled across the carpet.
What had I started?
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/m9xgdu/a_familiar_connection_part_two_revised_bs_incest