A Very Long Engagement

She showered. I considered joining her, but I knew that if I did that, we'd not see the outside that day. Still, while she was toweling off, I did take the opportunity to tease her, trailing my calloused hands up and down her sides and kissing at her neck. She begged me to continue, but I slapped her ass instead. "Good incentive for you today, don't you think? We get our errands done, get a good look at the campus, and come back here for a nice, early dinner." She stuck her tongue out at me, and I surprised her by kissing her and taking it into my mouth, sucking gently at it. I fled the bathroom to the sound of a snapping towel.

I had an ulterior motive for getting us out of the apartment, beyond providing cover for Sam with Mom and Dad, beyond getting groceries so that we could spend as much time in whatever shared depravity we chose. We needed to make sure that this new normal really could be at least outwardly normal. We might be going back home to fuck each others' brains out later, but we had to keep up the pretense of being just a brother and sister when we were out in public.

We did pretty good, I thought. I didn't tell Sam my concerns, but she'd been thinking about this as a possibility a lot longer than I had. We held hands some, hugged some, might have been just a touch closer than before; but none of it was beyond the pale. None of it was something a bystander would see as anything more than a close brother and sister spending time together. When we were talking that morning, I wanted it to work. Now I could see the ways that it could work.

Instead of cooking, I grabbed takeout from a little Chinese place near my apartment. We sat and talked together, trying to figure things out. She asked, "So... what... like, what are we now?"

"How do you mean?"

She laughed. "It's a pretty simple question, bro. We're-- " She laughed. "I think we both know what's going to happen when we're done eating. And when we're out in public, we're just brother and sister. But-- but what are we right now?"

I cocked my head to one side and asked, "What do you see happening after this week? Is this-- is this just a thing we're going to do, a wild time we're going to have, then this goes back up on the shelf?"

Sam looked at me like I'd grown another head. "No! Is-- is that what you want?"

My hand went over hers. "No, not at all. But..." I sighed. "Last night, when we were making love-- " She smiled a broad, dreamy smile. "You said that you wanted me to be your first. Did you mean-- just your first? Like, was that what you wanted? Or did you mean..."

She brought my hand to her lips. "First and only, Matty. I-- I don't know if that's-- I know that..." She sighed. "As much as I looked for a solution, the best I can be for you, even sort of legally, is 'fiancé.' We can't ever get married, really married. There's no nation on earth that would allow it. And I know-- I don't want to keep you from having that. If I had my druthers? I'd just pretend that last night was us consummating our marriage after a very long engagement. But as much as I'd like that, I don't-- I'm not going to expect you to commit to something like that. I know you haven't had much time to think of this as a real thing yet."

I nodded slowly. I loved her more than anyone else in the world, but... "I don't want to disappoint you, Sam. I... let's see how things go, okay?"

Her expression was a little sad, but she nodded. "Yeah, okay. In the meantime, I-- look, I'm going to be exclusive with you, at least until you decide you..." She looked down at the table. "If you decide that you want to have a relationship that actually can go somewhere with someone else. Long term, I mean. So 'girlfriend' is fine if you want. I don't expect you to-- if you don't want to be exclusive, I get it. It's just a silly little--"

"Hey." She looked up at me. "No, Sammy. It's not silly. I love you. I-- There's no way I'd hurt you like that." I furrowed my brows. "Do you think I'd-- I mean, I'd have to be a real asshole to do that to you."

"No! I wasn't trying to say that. It's just-- look, I know this is weird. And I don't want to..." She sighed. "Fuck, I don't know what I'm saying. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life; there's been a little part of me that's wanted that since I was a little girl. But I don't want you to feel like-- just because that's my flavor of crazy, you don't have to buy into it. I don't want you to resent me for-- for-- "

The pain in her voice broke my heart. She'd got what she wanted and was having to face the possibility of losing it, of me throwing her aside for someone else. "For loving me enough to carry a torch your whole life? For spending years trying to figure out how we'd work together? For... Okay, the way you seduced me was kind of fucked, but for taking that shot, and for making me feel..." I stroked her cheek. "For making me feel like the most important person in your world? For wanting me to be not just your first, but your only?

"Fuck, Sam, the only reason I'm even a little hesitant to jump into this thing with both feet is that I don't want you to feel like I'm holding you back. You're a smart, beautiful, wonderful woman, and you could--" I sighed. "I know you've built me up in your head as this fucking Superman, but I'm just a guy." Sam opened her mouth to speak, but I pressed on. "Yes, I know, smart, kind, cute, etc. Thank you. But there are other guys out there, guys that can... Sam, what if you want to have kids some day?"

That sly grin always meant trouble for me. "Wellll, about that. So, do you remember what I did end up getting you for Christmas? For the whole family?"

"Yeah, that genealogy genetics testi-- oh fuck, really?"

"Hah! Yeah. I mean, Dad is into genealogy, and mom's a biologist, so I thought they'd both enjoy it. But... Look, I'll just come out and say it: in terms of any kind of genetic issues, recessive traits, any of that stuff? There's no reason you and I couldn't safely have a kid together." She held a hand up. "I'm not saying we-- wait, are you turned on? You are!"

"And you're not?"

My kid sister bit her lip and let out a little moan. "Nnnf yeah, Matt. I am. I-- fuck, this is so good. I knew..." She trailed off, a guilty little look on her face.

"Yes?"

"I didn't-- I looked at the other stuff you liked, too, bro. On your laptop. And we, ah, we have a lot in common there. I--" She looked away from me, and her sudden bashfulness was strangely appealing. "Look, if you spend a bunch of time googling 'how can I fuck my brother,' you're going to come across all sorts of weird shit. And if you're the type of person that wants to google 'how can I fuck my brother,' well-- " A little mischievous glance at me. "Then you're probably the kind of person that's going to be interested in all sorts of weird shit."

"Do tell."

She leaned back in her chair and regarded me coolly, a challenge in her eyes. "Make me."

And we were off. I stood, knocking my chair over. Her eyes went wide with fear and lust; she'd rarely seen me angry. I wasn't now, not really, but the illusion was important. "Safeword."

"Wha- what?"

"Your. Safeword. So I know when to stop." I rounded the table and pulled her to her feet.

"I, ah, I-- "

My finger traced down her cheek. "So, silly little slut wants to play with fire, and she doesn't even know how to keep from getting burned?" My hand went gently to her throat. "Pick a word. Something you'll remember. One I can't mistake for something else."

"I, ah, um... rutabaga?" I tried very hard not to laugh.

"So if I squeeze your throat too tight, you say?"

I squeezed gently and she yelped, "Rutabaga!"

I crushed her to me, kissing her fiercely. She moaned into my mouth, her hands roaming my back. I pulled away. "If things get too intense-- "

"Rutabaga!" She started kissing me again, trying to devour me.

I wanted this so badly that I could feel it in my bones. But I loved her, so I stopped. Pulled away.

My not-exactly-but-still-sort-of-innocent kid sister was looking up at me with concern. "Matty?"

My hand stroked her cheek. "Not-- not yet. I want to-- a part of me really wants to-- "I shook my head. Best not to say the words, as they'd probably set both of us off again. "But... but not yet. I want to love you. Really love you. It might seem-- " She kissed me again, gentle and loving.

"No, Matty, I-- "Her head rested on my chest. "I love you. I'll-- as long as we can be together, I'm happy. And I-- " She looked up into my eyes. "I know you thought you did a pretty bad job of looking out for me last night-- " I chuckled ruefully. "-- but the fact that you... I can feel how hard you are. How much you want this. But you're still trying to make sure that I... that I have the loving part, have my fill of it before we go nuts?" A little kiss from her. "God, you are the best, bro." She bit her lip. "Let me show you how much I appreciate it?"

We spent the rest of the night making love. She was still a little sore from the night before, so it was a night where I showed her the fun that could be had with fingers and mouths. She was inexperienced; other than kissing, she told me I was her first everything. But she was enthusiastic. She struggled when first giving me a blowjob, trying to emulate the porn stars she'd seen, but I showed her it was okay to slow down and just have fun. And we did, not focusing on orgasms, but instead on pleasure. It was a tender, loving bonding experience.

The next morning, I woke her with my head between her legs, then made love to her, finishing inside of her after she'd come three times between my tongue and dick. We cleaned each other in the shower, her using her mouth and tongue to lick up the mix of seed and juices on my cock beforehand; Sammy still wasn't close to deepthroating me, but she was certainly game to try. When I came in her mouth, she rocked back on her heels, looked up at me, and opened wide to display my cum like a trophy before swallowing it with a flourish. It was one of the sexiest things I'd ever seen.

The week largely followed in that vein. We made love early on but fucked more often as the days went by; she seemed to prefer the latter but liked both. We did get out of the apartment more than either of us had expected. There were dates of a sort: dinner, bars, movies, and the like. Still acting as thought we were nothing more than a close brother and sister, but that simply heightened the excitement when we did get home. We had a secret, just the two of us, a hidden love that we couldn't expect anyone else to understand. It was us against the world, and we were going to win.

The morning of her last full day there dawned. It was melancholy for both of us. Only one more day before she went back home, and it would be months before we saw each other again. The drive was just too far to be done on anything like a regular basis. We were laying in bed kissing gently, trying to build a few more memories to tide us over until she moved to town for college.

Her golden hair shimmered in the morning sunlight, and I marveled at how things had changed in a week. How could I want anything besides this? There would be struggles, I knew. We might have to do drastic things to make it work. But she was worth it. We were worth it.

Sam was looking at me, too, and her expression became just a little self conscious. "What?"

"I'm just looking at my wife. Is that okay?"

"Wha- what?" Her eyes went wide.

"My wife. I know we can't actually, legally do anything about it, but I know where I want to be for the rest of my life. So why pretend this is anything other than what it is?"

Disbelief made her voice quaver. "You're-- this isn't-- you're not joking? You're serious?"

"I'm sorry, did you want to stay engaged for another few years?"

She playfully slapped my chest. "No, you asshole!" Her eyes teared up. "I-- fuck, Matty, why are you making me cry this early in the morning?"

I wiped the tears away. "So I can spend the rest of the day lavishing my wife with love, of course." I kissed her as she pressed herself to me. We didn't leave the bed until early afternoon. After a shower and quick lunch at a nearby cafe, we spent the some time walking around and talking: about how big our shared apartment should be, about our plans for her move-in, about her plans for college, about what we wanted from our future. Once home again, she sent me out to get takeout; no reason to waste time cooking tonight, when we knew that the food was really only for keeping our strength up.

When I returned, we sat and ate together in companionable silence. There was excited anticipation in the air; we didn't wolf our food down, but that was mostly because we were enjoying the ratcheting up of tension. She finished first, then took a drink of water and cleared her throat. "So, I don't think I told you what my original plan for this week was." I perked my ears up, and she smirked. "Just keep eating, I'll talk."

The newly innocent look on her face belied the seductive purr in her voice. "I had planned to work slowly on you at first. Put you to bed on the futon that first night with a little friendly kiss on the lips; nothing too sexy, just a peck. Wake you up the next morning by cooking in just a tight t-shirt and panties. Things like that; just pushing the boundaries back little by little. Maybe a day or two later, I'd desperately need to use the restroom while you were in the shower. Or convince you to give me a couple of beers and 'forget' to wear a shirt to bed."

I chuckled around a mouth of food. "Very subtle. I think I've seen that movie. Did you plan to get stuck in my washing machine next?"

She rolled her eyes. "This was... tonight was going to be the night when I'd go for broke if nothing else worked. If you seemed into it, but were being shy, that is. If you weren't, well then-- "A little laugh. "I think we're both glad we didn't have to find out what that would have meant. I can't imagine not having this with you." Her hand found mine and laced our fingers together.

"But what would you have done if I hadn't been receptive?"

With a frown, she grumped, "Probably what any other jilted fiancée would do: get pissed once I was home, maybe burn a couple of pictures, pine for you for a while, then move on. That's..." She sighed. "That's what I had planned to do anyways, if you'd managed to make things work with Traci or whoever."

"Glad that didn't happen, then. I didn't realize it before, but I think I'd have been-- maybe this makes me a hypocrite, given how hard I resisted all of this at first, but I think I might have been a little jealous for a while if you did move on, even if I didn't know how you felt." I chuckled. "Guess we'll never know, huh?"

"Damn right, big bro. I'm not like one of those dumb sluts you used to date." She licked her lips. "I'm a very, very smart slut, and I'm all yours."

I coughed, choking a little on my last bite. "So, what would you have done if we got together a little earlier?"

"Well, if it was a couple of days earlier, probably what we've been doing, just getting to know our way around each other's bodies."

I kissed her hand and asked, "And if we had slept together on the first night? If we had done something as foolish as that, as unlikely as that might be?"

"Oh! Well then, I thought I'd probably let my husband turn me into his little three hole slut for the first time." She blinked innocently at me. "I mean, unless you don't want to take that beautiful fucking cock and ravage my virgin asshole, big brother."

My mouth hung open and I stammered, "I-- I-- "

"Is that a no?" Her voice dripped with honeyed sarcasm. "Do you not want to hear me moan when you open me up for the first time with your fingers? Or plead as you make me come with that fat cock in my ass?"

Fuck. "I-- I just-- I don't want to hurt you. I actually haven't-- " I shook my head. "Porn aside, there's not as many girls into anal as you might think."

The corners of Sam's lips quirked up, her voice excited and hopeful. "Really? You mean-- I-- I'll be your first, too?"

I nodded and stood, pulling her to her feet. "Three hole slut, huh?"

"Only for you, bro. Only ever for you." Then, after a teasing little peck on the lips, she bolted from the room, pulling me behind.

I'd like to say that I spent a lot of time in foreplay with her, but she was so ready that her panties were soaked before they ever came off. She'd planned for this; it's why she'd sent me to get takeout. She'd showered and prepared herself for me, made herself as clean as she could inside and out. Like she said: lots of time researching on the internet.

But I wanted her to know I could still surprise her. Yeah, I had no more experience than her with anal, but I was still older and every bit as much a perv. So when she went on her knees, with her face pressed against the mattress and her hands holding her cheeks apart for me to prepare her, I decided to give her something unexpected.

"Matty, what are yooooh fuuuck!" Sam had been expecting my fingers, covered in room temperature lube. She hadn't been expecting my tongue, hadn't been expecting it to tease intently at her puckered little hole. She was clean and tasted of soap, but a little pressure opened her and yielded a faintly earthy flavor. "Fuck, fuck bro, fuck!" Her ass wiggled, and I grabbed her hips to provide stability and a more stationary target for my ministrations.

I pulled my mouth away for a moment. "Soon, Sammy, soon. But I'm going to taste this cute little ass of yours before I fucking wreck it." She moaned at my words, then louder as my tongue penetrated deep into her. She sobbed as I moved one hand from her hip to her sweet pussy, stroking her clit to bring pleasure on two fronts. The last week had made me intimately familiar to the early signs of her orgasms, the little tremors, the increasingly incoherent speech, and-- my favorite-- the begging. "Please, Matty! P-- ple-- oh god-- need -- please Matty! Pleeeee-!"

I was merciless, dragging her straight through one orgasm and into another, through the almost painful overstimulation, even as she begged me to release her from my grip. I only relented when great, gasping sobs of joy and submission were the only sounds coming from her mouth.

With gentle hands, I rolled her onto her back and lay next to her, caressing her face and body as she shuddered and twitched. A gentle kiss on her shoulder saw her turn her face to me, searching for my lips. She was still desperate with need, but it was a need for closeness, for emotional intimacy as opposed to the wildfire of lust. Still, her tongue slipped into my mouth, licking at me, tasting herself on. She gasped, "Fuck, Matty! Fuck, what-- what was that?"

I chuckled. "Didn't like it?"

Her beautiful breasts rose and fell a bit more slowly as she started to regain her breath. There were little tears on her face now. "How are-- What-- How can you be so good? So good at-- you love me exactly like I want, Matty." They fell freely now. "I love you so much, Matt. You-- you really promise? I'm your wife? Not-- not just some silly little kid's game, not you humoring your stupid, horny little sister until she grows out of her dumb fetish?"

"Oh, Sam." My hand stroked her cheek. "Of course. Of course I mean it. I promise. I love you, and-- look, maybe we can't ever stand up in a church or whatever, but yeah. I'll be your husband in every way that matters. Even-- " I moved my hand to her belly. "Even be the father of your children, if that's what we decide we want. We'll have to-- it's going to be hard to make that work, but I'll figure out how. I want to make you happy for the rest of your life."

We lay there for a little while; nothing else needed to be said. There were little kisses and happy smiles, but no words. Then she said, "You know what I really want? What would make me really happy right now?"