Sharing Dirty Stories With Sister

Further, a lot of the city is built for winter, and most of the older buildings don't have air conditioning. Mine certainly didn't. Some people put in a window A/C, but my apartment had only the one window, in my bedroom, and there wasn't any space for it. The machine would have to rest on my bed. The result? My tiny place turned into a toaster oven. And my sister and I were like two wilted slices of bread.

We didn't make any agreements about it, but we slowly started wearing less clothes around the apartment. Jennifer would get home and go down to a tank top and shorts. I changed into boxers and a t-shirt as soon as work was over. We sat on the couch together, ate together -- we didn't have a choice -- and we both showed a lot more skin.

About a week into the heat wave, ten days after I'd shared my secret, Jennifer broke the silence. We were bingeing some Netflix show and a sexy scene came on. We watched without a word, but I could feel the tension ratcheting up. When the episode ended, I stood up and announced I was going to bed.

"Are you going to go read?' Jennifer asked, seasoning that last word with a saucy smile.

"Are you?" I asked, challenging.

Jennifer blushed. "I looked at a few things," she said, going from teasing to innocent so fast it nearly tipped me over. "Honestly, there's so much. It's hard for me to know what to look at. I felt kind of overwhelmed."

I could understand that. I'd been reading that site for so long it was easy for me to find what I wanted. But, as a newcomer, faced with literally millions of options, I could see feeling out of my depth.

"Well, there's a few ways you can find the popular ones," I said, "Look at stories that have been read a lot or that have high ratings. That kind of thing."

"Could you maybe, um, recommend some?" Jennifer asked. She bit her lower lip, and it was so sexy, it nearly sent me to the moon. But her request was, clearly, out of the question.

"That's a little too private," I said, "Also, I doubt what turns me on would work for you. You know?"

Jennifer gave me a pout. "I know. I wouldn't be, like, judging or anything. I just think it would help me. I mean, I'm not even sure I know what 'good' is."

"If it gets you off, that's good," I said, smiling.

Jennifer shook her head at me. My sister and I were both in little more than our underwear, talking about porn. I was stuck between slightly weirded out and totally turned on. Thus, once again, I found myself trapped.

"I'll find you some stuff," I said, resigned, "You'll have to take it from there, though."

Jennifer clapped and cheered like a little girl. God, she really was a little girl. Barely even in her twenties. Another reason for my raging libido to back off. Like I needed another excuse.

"Thank you so much, Matt. It means a lot to me."

"Just remember," I said, "Reading something doesn't mean doing something. You know?"

Jennifer quirked an eyebrow at me, confused.

"OK, like, if I read something in a story and it turns me on, you know that doesn't mean I want to actually do it. Right?"

"What exactly are you sharing with me?" Jennifer asked, she sat back like she was appalled, but I knew she was still playing around.

"Come on," I said, "You know what I mean."

"If the story is about orangutan sex, that doesn't mean you want to do it with an orangutan," Jennifer said.

"For example," I said, rolling my eyes.

Jennifer's face got serious. She put her hands on mine. "I get what you're sharing with me is private. Secret. You're basically telling me what turns you on. It means a lot to me that you trust me with this. It won't change how I feel about you in any way. I promise, I won't judge."

Mollified, I went back to my room and picked out two of the most vanilla stories I could find. There was other stuff I liked a lot more, but these were solid, and they were safe. I copied the links and texted them to Jennifer.

"Thanks!" she sent back.

Two hours later, I was still wide awake when I got another text.

Jennifer: Those were good. Could you send more?

Something about the fact that it was a text made the request feel less invasive. I guess not looking my sister in the eye took a lot of the pressure off. I wrote back, like this was a casual conversation.

Matt: Anything in particular?

Jennifer: Shrug emoji.

I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As much as I trusted my sister, I wasn't ready for that level of risk.

After I collected everything, about ten stories in all, I wrote one last text.

Matthew: Standard disclaimers apply.

Jennifer: Understood. Thx!

Despite looking at all those stories, I wasn't in the mood to read them. Instead, I crafted a bunch of work emails, then turned out the light. As my head hit the pillow, I swore I heard something that sounded like a long, low feminine groan.

The next morning, Jennifer was chipper as a cartoon chipmunk. She made me breakfast, pancakes, humming to herself the whole time.

"I guess my texts worked last night?" I asked. I couldn't help it. I knew I should be discrete, but I had to know.

"Like a charm," Jennifer said. She gave me a goofy grin, then kissed me on the cheek.

I had a long day and came home exhausted. We'd ordered dinner at the office, so I went straight to bed, stripping down to my boxers. It was too hot for pajamas. Honestly, it was too hot for boxers, but I knew from past experience I needed to be decent, just in case.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, Jennifer knocked on my door. She sat down on the end of the bed, eyeing me nervously. I gave her a moment to settle before I asked her what was bothering her.

"The stories you sent last night," she said, "They were really good. Like, really really good. If you get my meaning."

I did, but I didn't think it was appropriate to ask my little sister for more details.

"I was kind of hoping you could send me some more. I'm not, like a freak, am I? A sex fiend or whatever?"

"No, of course not," I said, "You found something you enjoy, that's all."

"Thanks," Jennifer said, "I know I'm asking for a lot."

"It would help if you told me what was, um, working for you," I said. I waited for my sister to stop the whole conversation, or at least pause. Instead, she rolled right into it.

"The ones about the couples were cute, but I couldn't get into them. I thought I'd be into the Gay one, but it didn't do it for me. The bondage thing was a turnoff, though I liked the idea of being forced, maybe? Just not the pain part. The threesome one was OK. Watching the couple having sex in the forest was hot. The cheating one was good too. I guess I kind of like it when the people are doing something wrong, you know? Where it's not just sex. It's like, animal. Out of control."

"I think I can find you more of those," I said. Jennifer watched, though she couldn't see my screen, as I went through and picked a few more stories. Based on what she'd told me, her tastes weren't that dissimilar from mine. That made it easier, picking stories that I already knew I liked. Also, because she'd mentioned it, I risked sending her a non-con.

"Thanks!" Jennifer said after I texted her the last title.

"Standard discl..."

"Standard disclaimer applies," Jennifer said, "Yes, I know. Have a good night!"

Again, despite looking at porn stories for the past half hour, I didn't feel like using one. Maybe it was because the only face I could picture, the only body I could imagine, belonged to my sister.

The next morning, again, I was greeted by a bouncy Jennifer. She'd made me eggs and bacon for breakfast, and this time she sat at the table to join me.

"Last night's were really good," she said.

"You read all of them?" I asked.

Jennifer blushed but she nodded her head. "Multiples," she said, "You could say I read 'multiple' stories last night."

"You're going to read me out of house and home," I said.

"Can I ask you something?" Jennifer asked, "That one you sent me, where the wife goes back to college and can't control herself. That was hot. But I'm kind of surprised you liked it?"

"Standard disclaimers," I said, simply.

"No, I know," Jennifer said, "I just figured that would be kind of a trigger for you. After everything with Beth and all."

"Yes, sometimes those stories bother me," I said, "But I don't know. A lot of times, I don't see myself as the husband, but the guy she's cheating with. I guess it's cathartic in some way. And, I don't know, sometimes I like the stories that make me uncomfortable. Like, that almost makes it hotter."

"I get that," Jennifer said, "Like you said, just because you enjoy it in a story doesn't mean you want it in real life."

"Exactly."

That day at work was way better and I got home at a decent time. I brought home Indian food and we ate over the table, both of us staring at our phones. After we were done eating, we stayed in that position. Hypnotized by our screens as the sun slunk below the horizon.

Then I heard Jennifer make a low moan. I looked and saw her hand had drifted down between her legs. She wasn't touching anything, but it was hanging there, like she was getting ready.

"Are you reading a story right now?" I asked.

"Maybe," Jennifer said. She winked at me over her phone screen.

"One I sent you?" I asked.

"I found this one on my own," she said, "It's pretty hot."

My phone buzzed and I saw that she'd sent me a link. I clicked it and the story she'd been reading was now on my own screen. I'd read this one before -- honestly, there were times where I felt like I'd seen every erotic story in existence -- but it had been a while, so I reread it.

Without verbal agreement, my sister and I both moved to the living room. Both of us still staring at the story. We leaned against the sides of the couch, our legs touching. Despite the fact that the sun had gone down, it was super-hot, and both of us were in our standard outfits. Jennifer was wearing a thin, baby blue tank top and green mesh shorts. I was in navy boxers and a white undershirt.

"Did you get there?" Jennifer asked. She was still dandling her free hand lazily between her legs.

"I think you would have noticed," I said, waggling my eyebrows. Of course, she couldn't miss my erection. In my tiny boxers, it stood up as large and looming as the Empire State Building.

"Did you finish the story, yet, I mean," Jennifer asked.

"Oh," I said, "Yes."

"You want to pick the next one?"

"Sure," I said. I scrolled around for something similar and sent it to her.

"Oooh, I can tell this one will be good," she said, "I like it when they get knocked up. Or there's the risk of it."

"Like you said, it's more fun when there's a little danger," I said.

"Exactly," Jennifer said. I wasn't expecting my sister to have an impregnation fetish. Immediately, I started thinking of all my favorites that I could share with her.

When she was done reading my selection, Jennifer passed me one back. It was another preg risk story, but this one also had non-consent.

"Standard disclaimers apply," she said.

We spent the next couple hours that way, sending each other stories. The urge to touch myself was uncontrollable, but I managed to hold off. I wondered if Jennifer was experiencing the same thing. Was that a wet spot I saw in her shorts or just a shadow? Did she know her nipples were pointing through her tank? Did she notice my erection? Did I want her to notice it?

I put my phone down. I needed to stop, or things would really go over the edge.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," I said.

"OK," Jennifer said, simply.

I stripped down as soon as my door was shut. All I could see was my beautiful sister while I stroked myself. I didn't care. I pictured her face, twisting in pleasure. Her pert, full breasts pressed against my chest. Her ass bouncing up and down on my dick. I came gobs. I came buckets. I soaked myself so bad, I thought about getting up to shower.

And all I could think about, as my breathing slowed, was that maybe my sister had gotten off at the same exact time.

The guilt showed up the next morning. I told myself that I didn't really want Jennifer. She was my sister. And fifteen years younger than me, besides. It was the close quarters, the revealing clothes, and the, um, content.

My discomfort didn't stop me from sharing more stories with my sister, though, and she sent just as many back. I'd only include links, but Jennifer would add little descriptions to her suggestions:

"She takes it in the ass in this one."

"Strip poker. Kinda hot."

"Threesome. Pregnant. LOVE."

"Strip Scrabble?!"

"Do you think the gf will cheat? Is it wrong that I want her to cheat?"

Most evenings, we ended up on the couch together, trading our favorite porn stories like they were Pokemon cards. We talked about them too. Our dirty, sibling-only, book club.

When I did feel the need rub one out, though, I always went back to my room. A couple times, Jennifer straight up asked me to leave so she could do the same. We were sharing these intimate, sexual moments. But we, ourselves, were staying quite chaste.

*

"So, there's one I found that I really like," Jennifer said, "But I'm not sure if I should share it with you."

It was after work and the two of us were hanging out in the living room. It was too hot to sit together, so Jennifer lazed on the couch while I reclined in one of the folding chairs by the table. We were in our usual outfits, something very much like underwear but not quite.

"We talked about this," I said, "Fantasies aren't reality. Standard disclaimer and all that."

"No, I know," Jennifer said, "I just don't want you to think I'm into it. I mean, I'm into it. I just. Look, the story's fucking hot and I want to share it with you, OK?"

"Go for it," I said.

My phone beeped a minute later. I looked down. I don't know why I was so surprised. It was an incest story. A brother-sister incest story. The siblings get abandoned by their dates and end up having sex. The sister, of course, gets pregnant at the end.

"Hot, right?" Jennifer said when I finally looked up from my phone.

"Yes, um, not bad," I said. My sister gave me a knowing look. "OK, fine, it was amazing."

"I know! Oh my God, the sex scenes were so hot. It's like, what they're doing is so wrong. I mean, so so wrong and yet..."

"I get it," I said, "Like we've said. When what they're doing is forbidden, it makes the story even better."

"Right," Jennifer said. She was already engrossed in another story. My phone buzzed a moment later. Another brother/sister tale. For a moment, I paused. Was this really appropriate? Had we crossed the line? Five minutes later, I was too busy reading the story to care.

*

So now we were sharing sibling incest stories. We tried some others in the category, too. But the mom/son, dad/daughter ones creeped both of us out. We did OK with cousins. But for us, clearly, brother/sister incest was best. In story form, anyway. Especially the ones where the sister got pregnant at the end. We shared other stories, but more and more I was seeing a steady diet of sibcest.

Better (worse), I'd become accustomed to all of it. Like slipping into the pool step-by-step, by the time I was underwater I was used to the temperature. I don't think either of us realized the danger we were putting ourselves in.

In my rare moments of clarity, usually about five seconds after I'd finished jerking myself off, I did worry that we were going too far. Our casual conversations about sex. The way we both, even from a distance, were getting each other off. She's my sister. Half my age.

I'd tell myself that, this time, I would stop the whole thing. Then, a moment later -- as the post-orgasm rationality faded -- I would conveniently forget my promise.

*

"I think all these stories are starting to mess with my mind," Jennifer said.

It was late, but the summer sun was hanging around the horizon and we'd decided to go on a post-dinner stroll around the block. The sidewalks were a weird mixture of businesspeople heading home after a long day and young people heading out for an extended evening.

"In what way?" I asked.

"Yesterday I was out running errands and I saw a couple of teenagers making out against the side of the Gristedes," Jennifer said, "They looked kind of alike? Same hair, same nose. I thought, 'they're brother and sister.' Like, I know that's not true. But then I thought, well, maybe?"

"I know what you mean," I said, "I was talking to a coworker a couple of days ago and she was telling me about a party she'd gone to with her husband."

"Swingers party?"

"I mean, I know it wasn't," I said, "But some part of me thought that it maybe could be?"

"Do you think there are people doing those things?" Jennifer asked. We stopped at the corner, waiting for the traffic to clear the way so we could cross the street.

"I mean, there are billions of people on Earth," I said, "I have to think that somewhere, someone is doing something like what we're reading about."

"Do you think someone we know is doing those things?" Jennifer asked.

"Going to swingers parties? Hitting up gloryholes? Engaging in wild orgies in the backseat of the car?"

"Having brother-sister sex," Jennifer added as she started to cross the street.

"Right," I said dodging a cab and then jogging to catch up, "Can't forget that. It all seems so unlikely, doesn't it?

"That we know someone who's secretly doing that? Or that we don't know anyone?"

"Both," I said.

Jennifer looked at me oddly, like she was trying to interrogate my expression for some added information.

"Let's head home," I said.

My sister nodded seriously.

*

"What are you reading?" Jennifer asked.

Two days later, we were back on the couch. Legs resting against each other. Covered in sweat and not much else.

"That one you sent me last night," I said, "with the siblings in the shed."

"Oooo, where'd you get?" Jennifer leaned forward. Her long brown hair hung loose, tickling my bare legs.

"I'm on page three, I think?"

"Well, you're clearly enjoying it," Jennifer said. She looked pointedly down to where my boxers were pointing.

"Sorry," I said, then adjusted myself. I tucked my hard-on so it was trapped by the leg of my underwear.

Jennifer looked again and giggled. Solving one problem had created another: my purple cockhead was now poking out into the open, pressed against my thigh.

"You must really like this one," Jennifer said.

I grunted and shifted again. But my dick wasn't going anywhere. There was no hiding the fact that I was horny as hell. I rolled off the couch and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Jennifer asked.

I rolled my eyes at my sister.

"Don't leave," Jennifer said, "Please. I'm enjoying your company. And I don't care about 'that.' It happens all the time and it never bothers me. I like seeing him, honestly. It means I chose a good story for you."

I shook my head and sat back down on the couch. My dick stuck up proudly, like it knew it had been complimented. I tried to ignore it.

"Trust me, I'm plenty worked up too," Jennifer said, "You just can't see it as well." She moved her legs slightly and, for a moment, I thought she was about to show me exactly how aroused she was. Fortunately, though she was only stretching her legs.