My name is Nicole and my brother's name is Patrick. We've been together roughly 15 years as we are in our late 20s/early 30s. This is how it all began between us. If incest offends you, I suggest you look elsewhere.
My parents were both recovering alcoholics when I was born and fortunately never relapsed when I was growing up. I really had a simple childhood; I was quiet and people liked me because I didn't bother anyone. My world changed when my grandfather died in a bad accident - my father's father. My dad took it really hard and started to drink. My mother really came down on him for that and kept screaming at him to stop, to see someone, etc. I guess she was scared for him, but more scared for herself, as any objective person would say she was coming across like a raving loon.
After only a few weeks of arguing, my mother left. I've always been more close with my father than my mother, so it was easy to side with my dad. Besides, she left him.
Those first few nights without my mother in the house, I slept with my father. I cuddled with him and to this day, it has always been non-sexual, non-perverted - a line was never crossed. He always had pajamas on and always made me feel safe. If he touched me occasionally, it was to rub the back of my head. I loved my dad.
Unfortunately, after a couple of days I was afraid to go to sleep by myself. At seemingly the same time, my father started to encourage me sleeping in my room again. He was never mean - never laid a finger on me - but ultimately through his drinking at night, I got scared enough for his health that I couldn't sleep with him anymore.
One night I knocked on my Patrick's door. My life was about to change forever.
My brother opened up bare-chested, with a pair of shorts on. I told him I didn't want to sleep alone, and after I persisted, he let me sleep with him in his bed. He was appropriate. He put on a shirt and put a pillow and a few shirts in between us on the bed. I fell into a deep sleep that first night.
When I awoke the next morning, my brother was tapping me on the shoulder, telling me I should leave. I didn't want to; I was tired and also didn't want to be alone. He agreed to let me stay, but only if it was just this one time.
I agreed, but deep down couldn't imagine that thought.
The next evening, I came into his room - the door was open - and asked if I could please sleep in his bed again. He said no and he was really mean about it. I started to cry and he let me stay again. This happened for about eight days.
Finally, just when I was getting comfortable with the arrangement, I went to open my brother's door to get into his bed and his door was locked. I couldn't understand where he got a lock on the door, but I couldn't get in. I knocked, crying. I should say all of this time, my father was officially drinking all of the time, and while he was nice to us, he couldn't tell if we were coming or going. It was really just me and my brother.
Anyway, I started crying loud enough for him to hear me while I knocked on his door. He finally opened - barechested again with a pair of shorts - and let me in and sat me on the bed. It was then that we had 'the talk.'
He told me he couldn't continue this because I was a girl and it was bad enough that a girl was sleeping in his bed. I'm paraphrasing a little - I don't remember the exact words. Mostly though he was saying he was used to sleeping in the nude, certainly not with any clothes on, and that he couldn't continue with this arrangement any longer.
I told him were on opposite sides of the bed. If you don't want to wear a shirt, don't wear it. It won't bother me. I convinced him and for the next few days, he went to bed with just a pair of shorts while I was dressed as usual in my rose pajamas. Then one day the door was locked again.
He apologized but said it could not happen again. I asked him what was the matter and what was his problem. Again he brought up how difficult it was to have a girl in his bed, especially at night. He said his first reaction when he was sleeping was to reach over and "grab some tittie." He TOLD ME he couldn't do that and before something bad happens, he's cutting this relationship off. I'll always remember this conversation because it was in my power to end this before it started - and I didn't.
I replied with something like "if it happens, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you touched me. I trust you." He mumbled something, threw a pillow at me, and went to sleep bare-chested.
He was snoring about three minutes later. I fell asleep soon afterwards.
When I awoke, I felt a hand on my right tit. Patrick was cuddling with me from behind and his hand was just resting on me. I didn't mind, especially since he was sleeping, so I just remained motionless. I eventually went back to sleep.
When my eyes opened this time, I felt my tit being groped and my nipple being played with. I was still on my side with my back to him, so I altered my neck to see if he was still sleeping and his eyes were open. He just said shhhhhhh and told me to go back to sleep. To confess, his hand felt great on my tit. We eventually got up the next day and didn't talk about anything.
I went back to his room the following night and the same thing happened. It continued for weeks. I really didn't want to sleep alone, that was the bottom line for why I kept going back to Patrick. But to be candid, I liked being touched like that and most of the time tried to give him access to my tits by moving my arms forward so he could get around me. It was just petting, I really didn't mind.
Then one night, I awoke to him with his hand actually up my pajama top, playing with my nipples. I was so turned on I started to moan softly. It was then - in my brother's bed - that I had my first orgasm as the result of someone else.
As time went on, I became more bold. We had grown accustomed to sleeping with me on my side with my back to him, and him spooning me with his hands around my tits. Sometimes I would just grab his hands when I felt them by my sides and place them on me. Sometimes I would whisper to him to play with my nipples. It was so erotic to me.
Then my brother started taking it further. I woke up early to find my brother sucking on my bare tit. My tits aren't huge but it's a nice handful I guess. He was making me crazy so I ended up taking my top off. He played with my tits and ended up sucking for what seemed like hours. I was in ecstasy.
I wasn't sure if I was going to let him suck my tits the next night or even how to act. That lasted a few seconds as he told me before going to bed to take my top off. I did and tried to lie down with my back to him. It was the first open admission before we 'went to bed' that we would be fooling around.
That night I awoke with me on top of him. He rolled me on to him and I was straddling him. I had my bottom pajamas and he had shorts on, but we were both bare chested. He was sucking on my tits and told me to shake them in his face. It made me uncomfortable but I did. This was also the first time I could feel his dick resting against my pussy.
This routine lasted a few weeks but I never would just get on top of him. He would always have to make that first move, and he always did. I enjoyed it but wasn't bold enough to show him.
One night things went even farther. I remember being really tired and that I could barely move. I awoke with me on my back and him on top of me. My pajama bottoms were on as usual and he was playing with my tits with his hands. It was different than before because this time he was on top of me. It was also the first time I saw a dick in person as he had it out. I'm not good with measurements, but it sure looked big enough to me. He told me to suck it.
For the first time, I said no to him. He told me matter of factly that if I didn't suck his dick, I should go back to my room. Reluctantly, I said fine and left.
Ten minutes later of crying by myself, I knocked. The door was locked again. Whenever he was mad at me, he seemed to lock his door. He was beyond rude and slammed the door in my face.
I knocked again and said OK OK. He opened the door quickly and had this big grin. I got on the side of the bed where he led me and I asked him what do I do? He said I will take care of all the work, just remember three things. Again I'm paraphrasing a little because I don't remember his exact words, but he told me three things. (1) Breathe through my nose, never through my mouth. (2) Keep my eyes open. and (3) Never bite. I agreed to try it.
I remember being more bothered by the fact that I was sucking off my brother than just the idea of having a dick in my mouth. If it was someone I wasn't related to, I don't think I wouldn't have had the hesitancy.
He took his dick out again and stuck it in my face. He said, and I will never forget this ever, 'suck it bitch!'
I felt so degraded. But I started to suck on it. He was telling me 'up and down up and down.' He had his hands all tangled in my hair and he was pumping his dick in my mouth. I felt it was such a chore and I couldn't imagine myself ever coming back to his room after tonight. I remember thinking of the friends I could stay with.
I remember having my head forced down on his crotch and not being able to breathe. I remember having a little more than I could handle in my mouth and then him pushing - forcing - even more in my mouth.
I started to gag and I started to choke. He yelled at me and said to breathe through my nose instead of my mouth. I tried but I was crying. He told me to use my tongue and I was just trying to breathe. Finally he came in my mouth and told me to swallow it. I didn't mind - in fact, I remember being overjoyed because I was happy it was over.
He actually cuddled with me that night and told me he loved me. I felt so special and I remember doing a 180 about never sleeping in his room again after I heard that.
The next night came and we lied down together. He was playing with my nipples as usual when he told me to roll over. I did and I ended up on top of him. He was not wearing any shorts - he was butt naked.
He grabbed my pony tail and told me to suck it. I asked him so nicely if we could do something else. I just didn't want to do it again. He told me to get out then. I started to cry and reluctantly, I started to give him head again.
This time he was on his back and I was on my knees in the middle of the bed sucking his dick. He had me in a rhythm, just pushing my head up and down and forcing more than I could handle in my mouth. It was then that by pure accident, I started to use my hand as well as my mouth to suck him off. He came really quickly and calmed down. He then wanted to cuddle like the day before. I remember realizing that if I could get him to cuddle with me just by sucking his dick once a night, I would do it and do it gladly. It made me feel so protected.
And that is how it began, where I began pleasing him even when he didn't ask me too, because he became a different person after I sucked his dick. We used to mess around in all these places.
Patrick hadn't gotten his license yet, but he still got in the front seat, and while the car was in park, literally right in front of our house, I sucked his dick. He pretended he was driving with one hand and pushed my mouth on his dick with the other hand. I would suck him in the stairwell of our house and also when he awoke in the morning. He also became more bold and would openly 'grab some tittie' as he liked to call it when he saw me and talk really dirty to me.
Sometimes he was really rough. He would slap my tit when I was on my back and just start slamming his dick in my mouth and just pump into me. He would call me his personal cocksucker. To be honest, I loved every minute of it because he would say he loved me between pumps.
Maybe I'll write again and tell you how he ended up fucking every hole I had.
My parents were both recovering alcoholics when I was born and fortunately never relapsed when I was growing up. I really had a simple childhood; I was quiet and people liked me because I didn't bother anyone. My world changed when my grandfather died in a bad accident - my father's father. My dad took it really hard and started to drink. My mother really came down on him for that and kept screaming at him to stop, to see someone, etc. I guess she was scared for him, but more scared for herself, as any objective person would say she was coming across like a raving loon.
After only a few weeks of arguing, my mother left. I've always been more close with my father than my mother, so it was easy to side with my dad. Besides, she left him.
Those first few nights without my mother in the house, I slept with my father. I cuddled with him and to this day, it has always been non-sexual, non-perverted - a line was never crossed. He always had pajamas on and always made me feel safe. If he touched me occasionally, it was to rub the back of my head. I loved my dad.
Unfortunately, after a couple of days I was afraid to go to sleep by myself. At seemingly the same time, my father started to encourage me sleeping in my room again. He was never mean - never laid a finger on me - but ultimately through his drinking at night, I got scared enough for his health that I couldn't sleep with him anymore.
One night I knocked on my Patrick's door. My life was about to change forever.
My brother opened up bare-chested, with a pair of shorts on. I told him I didn't want to sleep alone, and after I persisted, he let me sleep with him in his bed. He was appropriate. He put on a shirt and put a pillow and a few shirts in between us on the bed. I fell into a deep sleep that first night.
When I awoke the next morning, my brother was tapping me on the shoulder, telling me I should leave. I didn't want to; I was tired and also didn't want to be alone. He agreed to let me stay, but only if it was just this one time.
I agreed, but deep down couldn't imagine that thought.
The next evening, I came into his room - the door was open - and asked if I could please sleep in his bed again. He said no and he was really mean about it. I started to cry and he let me stay again. This happened for about eight days.
Finally, just when I was getting comfortable with the arrangement, I went to open my brother's door to get into his bed and his door was locked. I couldn't understand where he got a lock on the door, but I couldn't get in. I knocked, crying. I should say all of this time, my father was officially drinking all of the time, and while he was nice to us, he couldn't tell if we were coming or going. It was really just me and my brother.
Anyway, I started crying loud enough for him to hear me while I knocked on his door. He finally opened - barechested again with a pair of shorts - and let me in and sat me on the bed. It was then that we had 'the talk.'
He told me he couldn't continue this because I was a girl and it was bad enough that a girl was sleeping in his bed. I'm paraphrasing a little - I don't remember the exact words. Mostly though he was saying he was used to sleeping in the nude, certainly not with any clothes on, and that he couldn't continue with this arrangement any longer.
I told him were on opposite sides of the bed. If you don't want to wear a shirt, don't wear it. It won't bother me. I convinced him and for the next few days, he went to bed with just a pair of shorts while I was dressed as usual in my rose pajamas. Then one day the door was locked again.
He apologized but said it could not happen again. I asked him what was the matter and what was his problem. Again he brought up how difficult it was to have a girl in his bed, especially at night. He said his first reaction when he was sleeping was to reach over and "grab some tittie." He TOLD ME he couldn't do that and before something bad happens, he's cutting this relationship off. I'll always remember this conversation because it was in my power to end this before it started - and I didn't.
I replied with something like "if it happens, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you touched me. I trust you." He mumbled something, threw a pillow at me, and went to sleep bare-chested.
He was snoring about three minutes later. I fell asleep soon afterwards.
When I awoke, I felt a hand on my right tit. Patrick was cuddling with me from behind and his hand was just resting on me. I didn't mind, especially since he was sleeping, so I just remained motionless. I eventually went back to sleep.
When my eyes opened this time, I felt my tit being groped and my nipple being played with. I was still on my side with my back to him, so I altered my neck to see if he was still sleeping and his eyes were open. He just said shhhhhhh and told me to go back to sleep. To confess, his hand felt great on my tit. We eventually got up the next day and didn't talk about anything.
I went back to his room the following night and the same thing happened. It continued for weeks. I really didn't want to sleep alone, that was the bottom line for why I kept going back to Patrick. But to be candid, I liked being touched like that and most of the time tried to give him access to my tits by moving my arms forward so he could get around me. It was just petting, I really didn't mind.
Then one night, I awoke to him with his hand actually up my pajama top, playing with my nipples. I was so turned on I started to moan softly. It was then - in my brother's bed - that I had my first orgasm as the result of someone else.
As time went on, I became more bold. We had grown accustomed to sleeping with me on my side with my back to him, and him spooning me with his hands around my tits. Sometimes I would just grab his hands when I felt them by my sides and place them on me. Sometimes I would whisper to him to play with my nipples. It was so erotic to me.
Then my brother started taking it further. I woke up early to find my brother sucking on my bare tit. My tits aren't huge but it's a nice handful I guess. He was making me crazy so I ended up taking my top off. He played with my tits and ended up sucking for what seemed like hours. I was in ecstasy.
I wasn't sure if I was going to let him suck my tits the next night or even how to act. That lasted a few seconds as he told me before going to bed to take my top off. I did and tried to lie down with my back to him. It was the first open admission before we 'went to bed' that we would be fooling around.
That night I awoke with me on top of him. He rolled me on to him and I was straddling him. I had my bottom pajamas and he had shorts on, but we were both bare chested. He was sucking on my tits and told me to shake them in his face. It made me uncomfortable but I did. This was also the first time I could feel his dick resting against my pussy.
This routine lasted a few weeks but I never would just get on top of him. He would always have to make that first move, and he always did. I enjoyed it but wasn't bold enough to show him.
One night things went even farther. I remember being really tired and that I could barely move. I awoke with me on my back and him on top of me. My pajama bottoms were on as usual and he was playing with my tits with his hands. It was different than before because this time he was on top of me. It was also the first time I saw a dick in person as he had it out. I'm not good with measurements, but it sure looked big enough to me. He told me to suck it.
For the first time, I said no to him. He told me matter of factly that if I didn't suck his dick, I should go back to my room. Reluctantly, I said fine and left.
Ten minutes later of crying by myself, I knocked. The door was locked again. Whenever he was mad at me, he seemed to lock his door. He was beyond rude and slammed the door in my face.
I knocked again and said OK OK. He opened the door quickly and had this big grin. I got on the side of the bed where he led me and I asked him what do I do? He said I will take care of all the work, just remember three things. Again I'm paraphrasing a little because I don't remember his exact words, but he told me three things. (1) Breathe through my nose, never through my mouth. (2) Keep my eyes open. and (3) Never bite. I agreed to try it.
I remember being more bothered by the fact that I was sucking off my brother than just the idea of having a dick in my mouth. If it was someone I wasn't related to, I don't think I wouldn't have had the hesitancy.
He took his dick out again and stuck it in my face. He said, and I will never forget this ever, 'suck it bitch!'
I felt so degraded. But I started to suck on it. He was telling me 'up and down up and down.' He had his hands all tangled in my hair and he was pumping his dick in my mouth. I felt it was such a chore and I couldn't imagine myself ever coming back to his room after tonight. I remember thinking of the friends I could stay with.
I remember having my head forced down on his crotch and not being able to breathe. I remember having a little more than I could handle in my mouth and then him pushing - forcing - even more in my mouth.
I started to gag and I started to choke. He yelled at me and said to breathe through my nose instead of my mouth. I tried but I was crying. He told me to use my tongue and I was just trying to breathe. Finally he came in my mouth and told me to swallow it. I didn't mind - in fact, I remember being overjoyed because I was happy it was over.
He actually cuddled with me that night and told me he loved me. I felt so special and I remember doing a 180 about never sleeping in his room again after I heard that.
The next night came and we lied down together. He was playing with my nipples as usual when he told me to roll over. I did and I ended up on top of him. He was not wearing any shorts - he was butt naked.
He grabbed my pony tail and told me to suck it. I asked him so nicely if we could do something else. I just didn't want to do it again. He told me to get out then. I started to cry and reluctantly, I started to give him head again.
This time he was on his back and I was on my knees in the middle of the bed sucking his dick. He had me in a rhythm, just pushing my head up and down and forcing more than I could handle in my mouth. It was then that by pure accident, I started to use my hand as well as my mouth to suck him off. He came really quickly and calmed down. He then wanted to cuddle like the day before. I remember realizing that if I could get him to cuddle with me just by sucking his dick once a night, I would do it and do it gladly. It made me feel so protected.
And that is how it began, where I began pleasing him even when he didn't ask me too, because he became a different person after I sucked his dick. We used to mess around in all these places.
Patrick hadn't gotten his license yet, but he still got in the front seat, and while the car was in park, literally right in front of our house, I sucked his dick. He pretended he was driving with one hand and pushed my mouth on his dick with the other hand. I would suck him in the stairwell of our house and also when he awoke in the morning. He also became more bold and would openly 'grab some tittie' as he liked to call it when he saw me and talk really dirty to me.
Sometimes he was really rough. He would slap my tit when I was on my back and just start slamming his dick in my mouth and just pump into me. He would call me his personal cocksucker. To be honest, I loved every minute of it because he would say he loved me between pumps.
Maybe I'll write again and tell you how he ended up fucking every hole I had.