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Archive name: sisterly.txt (M/f-teen, forced-inc, rom)
Authors name: Ms. Which (mswhich@hotmail.com)
Story title : Sisterly Love

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Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
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Sisterly Love (M/f-teen, forced-inc, rom)
by Ms. Which (mswhich@hotmail.com)


It all started when Jonathan had his skiing accident.  
He was hurt badly; so badly that for a time we thought 
he would die.  He broke bones in all his major limbs, 
including his hands and feet.  He even broke his 
collarbone.  They had to put him in a full body cast, 
wire his jaw shut, and feed him through first IV tubes 
and, later, a straw.

After we brought him home, he had visitors for the 
first week or so, but after that it died down to an 
occasional trickle.  His friends simply lost interest, 
because Jonathan couldn't even talk to them.  It's 
pretty boring, sitting there talking to a giant cast.  
All poor Jonathan could do was grunt occasionally.

I took over the responsibility of caring for him, 
feeding him, sponging him off, that sort of thing.  Mom 
said that I didn't have to, that the nurse who came 
every day could do it, but I was happy to help out.  It 
was summertime, I was bored, and I felt really bad for 
my big brother.  He had always been athletic, and now 
he was stuck in a room, not even able to move, much 
less go hiking or camping or any of the other things he 
loved to do.  I'm sure it was awful for him.  And 
horribly boring, too.

I really didn't mind taking care of him, but it was a 
little embarrassing sometimes, sponging him off. Just a 
little, though.  Honestly, I was glad for the lesson in 
boys' anatomy.  I'd always been a little curious about 
what things looked like down there.  Besides, he was my 
brother, it's not like anything would happen.  At 
least, I didn't think so then.

Mostly, I'd just sit in his room and talk to him for 
hours about various stuff. I told him about movies I'd 
seen, concerts I'd gone too, what his friends were up 
to.  I read books to him.  He seemed to like it well 
enough.  I'm sure it beat lying there staring at the 
wall, listening to KROK on the radio.  Sometimes he'd 
grunt to agree with something I said or answer a yes or 
no question I'd asked, but mostly he just laid there 
and listened to me.  I guess he was a captive audience, 
but like I said, he didn't seem to mind much.

Things went on that way for a week or two.  I'd just 
started to settle into the routine, when it 
unexpectedly changed.

I was sponging Jonathan off.  I was used to it by now, 
and I didn't get embarrassed anymore.  I just undid the 
covering around his mid-section, got the sponge all wet 
and soapy, and cleaned him off, from his belly to his 
upper thighs (the area the cast didn't cover, in other 
words).  Usually it took about ten minutes.

This one day, though, it was different than usual.  I 
sponged all around his belly and back, just like usual, 
and then I dipped the sponge in the water again, and 
lifted his dick up out of the way so I could sponge 
under it too, then suddenly it stiffened in my hand. I 
don't mean that it got hard as a rock, but I felt it 
twitch and jerk and get a little bit stiff. I looked up 
at Jonathan's face, but I couldn't tell if he was 
looking at me or what.  I thought his eyes were closed.

I just held his dick in my hand for the longest time, 
staring at it like it was some kind of strange animal.  
It kept twitching, and getting stiffer, the longer I 
touched it.

My friend Jenny told me once that boys our age like to 
touch themselves, a lot.  Even more than girls do.  And 
I knew that Jonathan had some magazines stashed 
underneath his mattress.  So when I was standing there, 
holding his growing dick in my soapy hand, I realized 
that with him being in a cast like that, he couldn't 
touch himself anymore. And hadn't been able to do so 
for more than a month.

I don't know why I did what I did next.  Partly I was 
curious what would happen, but partly I just had this 
urge to do it.  I felt so bad for my brother, and he 
was so hurt, and I kept thinking about what Jenny had 
said, about how guys needed to touch themselves every 
so often.

So I soaped up a little more and started to rub his 
dick.  I didn't really know what I was doing, but every 
time I did something that felt good, his dick would 
twitch and get stiffer.

After awhile, it was way longer than my hand.  It was 
long and thick and sort of rhythmically throbbing, and 
Jonathan was starting to make sounds, sort of strangled 
grunting sounds, but I ignored him.  I figured he 
either liked it or wanted me to stop, and either way it 
didn't matter.  If I'd been hurting him, his dick 
wouldn't have been so big.

I got up on the bed and knelt across his body, sort of 
straddling him, to get better leverage.  I just kept 
stroking him, up and down, up and down, because he 
seemed to really like that.  After about five minutes, 
he shot his come all over the place.  I was surprised, 
because I hadn't known what to expect.  I liked it, 
though.  It made it easy for me to know when to stop.

I cleaned him up (and me up too, he shot a little onto 
my belly) and pretended like nothing had happened.  The 
next day I just brought his food and fed him and read 
stories to him just like always.

But it wasn't just like always.  I'd been thinking 
about Jonathan and how hard his dick had been, and how 
much I'd liked what we had done.  I'd been thinking 
about it a lot.  So when it was time for his sponge 
bath, I spent a little extra time cleaning around his 
dick, and sure enough it started to get hard again.

See, I knew I liked sex, even at the age of 14.  I 
hadn't actually HAD any yet, but I'd thought about it a 
lot.  My problem wasn't finding someone to have sex 
with me-that's not really a problem when you're young, 
cute, and 14.  The problem was that there was nobody I 
really wanted to have sex with.  None of the boys that 
I went to school with were attractive to me at all.  I 
had nothing in common with them and no feelings for 
them.  For the most part, they thought of girls as 
another cool accessory to have in their cars as they 
drove around.

I'd more or less resigned myself to waiting for 
college, when Jonathan changed those plans for me.  I 
stood there, holding his stiff dick in my hand, for the 
longest time.  I just thought about how much I loved my 
brother, how much I loved taking care of him, and how 
much he loved me.  He was my big brother.  He'd always 
helped me when I had problems; he'd always been there 
at my side when I needed him.  I knew I could trust 
him.  And I wanted to help him get better, help him to 
feel good...

I knew what I wanted to do.

When I put my mouth on his dick for the first time, he 
made this sound that was almost a strangled scream.  I 
didn't pay any attention.  I was too preoccupied with 
trying to figure out how to get his entire dick into my 
mouth.  It just wouldn't fit at first, and then I 
figured out that you had to open up REALLY wide and let 
a little bit go down in your throat.

I gagged a lot at first, but pretty soon I got over it.  
Once I figured out how not to choke, I really started 
to like giving Jonathan blowjobs.  He liked it too, or 
at least he stopped making those horrible sounds. I 
usually did it once during his sponge bath time and 
again at night, when I sneaked into his room.

I started thinking of what I was doing as "helping 
Jonathan out," and I started to like helping out my 
brother more and more, everyday. I liked taking his 
cock in my mouth while it was still limp and feeling it 
get hard against my tongue.  I liked when Jonathan 
moaned as he spurted into my mouth.  I liked the taste 
of his come.  I wanted to help him more and more often, 
and before long I was making him come two or three 
times a day.

It was about then that they unwired his jaw.

The first time I came into his room after he could talk 
again, I shut and locked his bedroom door.  I figured 
he'd have some things to say to me.  And I was right.

His voice sounded really shaky and hoarse.  I don't 
know if it was from not talking for weeks or from 
having a hard time with what I'd been doing.  He said, 
"Amy, you know I love you because you're my sister, but 
it's wrong... what we're doing... you have to stop.  
Please."

I tried to muster up a "you must be crazy" look, but 
really I just wanted to cry.  I didn't want to stop, I 
loved helping out my brother this way.  I was crushed 
that he didn't feel the same.

"Jonathan," I said, trying my best, "do you know how 
long you'll have to go without touching yourself if I 
don't do it for you?"

He looked pale.  "Amy... it's not right.  You're my 
sister."

I knew that my eyes were welling up with tears, and I 
willed them to stop.  It wasn't working.  "Jonathan, I 
know you like it, I wouldn't be able to make you come 
so much if you didn't like it."

His face turned red.  He didn't give up, though.  Not 
yet.

"Amy, it's wrong.  It's just wrong.  We shouldn't."

I shrugged bravely.  Tears were starting to trickle 
down my cheeks.

"You know I love you, and I know you love me, and 
there's no reason for you not to let me help you, 
Jonathan."

I know I shouldn't have done it, but I had to show him 
what he'd be giving up. I walked over to his bed and 
uncovered his body. I took his dick into my hands and 
started to stroke it, just like I'd done that first 
day, so many weeks ago.

"Amy, stop.  Stop it.  Don't... Amy, please, don't.  
Oh, God, Amy...

Amy...please...Amy, sweet Amy, oh God..."

I didn't stop.  After the first few moments, he didn't 
even ask me to.  He just groaned like that and called 
my name until he came, and then he started crying.  I 
stroked his hair and kissed his forehead and told him 
it was OK.

"Don't you love me, Jonathan?  I love you.  I like 
making you happy this way.  If you really really really 
want me to stop, I will.  But you don't want me to 
stop, do you?  Who could help you out this way except 
for me?"

I looked at him pleadingly.

Jonathan gave me a wan smile.  "Amy, that's the same 
look you give me when you want me to buy you a 
milkshake on the way home from school."

He closed his eyes and sighed.  I knew he was thinking 
about the way my hands and mouth felt on his dick.  I 
knew he was thinking about how long he still had to be 
in the cast.

After a very long pause, he opened his eyes and looked 
at me.

"Amy, I love you.  And I shouldn't let you do this, 
because I love you so much.  But..." he trailed off.

I looked back hopefully.  "But...?" I repeated.

He spoke in a soft voice, and he sounded quiet and 
resigned.  "But it feels so good.  I don't want you to 
stop.  Please don't stop, Amy."

I carefully climbed back into the bed with him, 
snuggled up alongside, and whispered into his ear, "I 
promise I won't, Jonathan.  I promise."

That night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, I 
crept back into his room.  I closed the door and locked 
it again, as quietly as I could.  I didn't know if 
Jonathan was awake, until he surprised me by speaking.

"I didn't know if you'd come tonight, Amy."

"Are you glad I did?"

He answered simply, "Yes."

I crawled into bed with him, as I sometimes did when I 
made my nightly visits.  But this time was different.  
This time, instead of wrapping my hand around his dick 
or taking it into my mouth, I straddled his body, on my 
knees. I didn't have anything on under my nightie, I 
was determined.

I could feel his dick brush against my legs and I knew 
that he was already hard.  It was so dark in his room 
that I couldn't see his face, but I knew he had to be 
startled.  I felt his body tense up.

He spoke in a quiet voice.  "Amy, what are you doing?"

I didn't want to have another long discussion.  I just 
wanted to show my brother how much I loved him.  I 
answered him shortly, "You know what I'm doing."

His cock twitched.  I knew then that he wanted it as 
much as I did.  His mind, or maybe his conscience, 
fought against it, but he desired it.  His body didn't 
lie to me.

I moved lower, kneeling over him, until the head of his 
cock was poised at the entrance to my vagina.  He let 
out a sharp breath.

"No, Amy, no, this is too far.  You can't."

"Jonathan, I love you, and there's no other man in the 
world I'd rather do this with.  I want it to be you.  
Please.  Please, Jonathan."

I reached between my legs to guide him with my hand, 
and he groaned but didn't protest again.  I had a hard 
time guiding his dick inside me.  It kept slipping out 
or pushing against my pelvic bone.  But eventually I 
got it into the right position, and when the first 
little bit of it was inside me, I pushed down and felt 
it thrust all the way up inside.

Jonathan gasped, loudly, and I did too.  I'd felt 
something tear, which hurt, but then I didn't notice 
that pain because I felt too good, way too good.  I 
couldn't even move for a little bit, because I had to 
get used to the feeling of having Jonathan pushed way 
up inside me like that.

I wish I could describe how good it felt, making love 
to my brother, who I loved more than anyone in the 
world.  I wish I could really describe the feeling when 
his dick first pressed into me.  I'm not that good with 
words, but it was ... it was unbelievable.  It was 
indescribable.

Out of this haze of pleasure I was lost in, I noticed 
that Jonathan was trying to thrust up into me with his 
hips, and I knew he'd hurt himself if he kept doing 
that, so I started moving instead.  I couldn't move 
much without losing my balance, but I guess it was 
enough, because Jonathan settled back and let me take 
over.

At first I tried to move slowly so that I wouldn't hurt 
him, but I couldn't help myself before long, and I just 
started bouncing up and down on his cock without even 
thinking of his casts.  The next day I'd have pulled 
muscles in both my thighs, but all I could feel at that 
moment was intense, blissful pleasure.

My whole body started to tingle, and I knew what was 
going to happen from the few times I'd touched myself.  
Without ceasing my rapid up-and-down rhythm, I hissed 
to Jonathan, "I'm about to come and after I come I 
can't keep this up so if you want to come, big brother, 
you better do it now."

He groaned and I felt him start to thrust up into me 
again.  Before, I'd been scared he'd hurt himself, but 
now I didn't care.  It felt so good, so overwhelmingly 
good.  I heard him start to moan something and after a 
moment I realized it was my name.

"Amy, Amy, oh God, beautiful Amy, sweet Amy, my Amy, 
precious, beautiful Amy, Amy, oh Amy..."

Over and over again.  After a few moments, I stopped 
hearing him, because my orgasm was sweeping over me, a 
fiery burst of pleasure that caused me to arch my back 
and rock my hips violently forward.  At the same time, 
Jonathan arched upward into me with a long, loud moan.

Afterward, I collapsed forward onto him and we both lay 
there, dripping with sweat, regaining our breath, for a 
long time.

--

Two weeks later, Jonathan's casts were removed.  I was 
terrified that now that he wasn't captive to my 
ministrations, he wouldn't to even talk to me, much 
less make love to me.  I sat in my room while the 
physical therapist talked to him and my parents, 
scared, nearly crying from anxiety.  Jonathan was now 
more than my brother, he was my lover, and I did love 
him, fiercely, passionately.  I didn't know what to do, 
so I sat and waited.

After the physical therapist had gone, and I'd become 
convinced that Jonathan would never speak to me again-
it had only been a few hours, but those hours stretched 
to weeks and months in my 14-year-old mind- there was a 
tap at the door.

It was him.  He came in, on crutches because his 
muscles were so weak, and submitted to the violent hug 
I gave him.  Pressed tightly against him, I whispered 
into his ear, "I thought you wouldn't want me anymore.  
I thought you wouldn't even want to look at me."

He whispered back, "Amy, sweet Amy, how could you think 
that?  You're beautiful and I love you.  I would never 
do that to you."

It was the promise of a headstrong teenager, made to a 
girl hardly old enough to be considered a woman.  But 
he kept it.  We grew up, and found other lovers.   We 
found others to satisfy our wants and needs, others to 
love.  I eventually married; he hasn't yet, but hasn't 
wanted for steady girlfriends through the years.  But 
he kept his promise to me.  Whenever I need help, my 
brother is there.  When I need a shoulder to cry on, 
he's there.  He is there for me, constantly and without 
fail.

And every so often, when I need him the most, we find a 
quiet room of the house when no one else is home, and 
he shows me again how much he loves me.

Comments are always appreciated, negative or positive: 
send remarks to mswhich@hotmail.com

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 6