Monday, June 22, 2015

For you

I saw a suggestion for this on twitter. Sometimes I forget I'm an erotica author as well as a horror author and need to stretch my wings and push my talent. I hope you think I pushed myself farther when you read the following.
A letter to my sister:  

Remembering it is a sin, but what difference does it make now? I’m going to hell for what we did and nothing I do now is going to change that. I don’t care, Karen. I don’t care how wrong or taboo our time together was. I don’t care what our parents say. I don’t care what the world thinks about it. I want you. I love you. I want to wrap my naked body up in yours and feel the heat from our passion pulling the sweat from my skin. I want to feel the need growing with my cock as I lick every inch of you. I want to feel the pressure of your cock in the back of my throat and taste the saline of your pre-come like creamy velvet on my tongue.

Do you remember how it started? Do you remember the nervousness that danced in our stomach? We both knew it was wrong, but the look in our eyes, the ravenous need that sprung up inside of us blotted out right and wrong. It deleted every thought about religion and family and societal norms. I saw you for the person you really were, the person you had been hiding for so fucking long, and instantly nothing else mattered. It was right, Karen. Everything we did was right and I want to do it again.

Being raised Catholic repressed us. Its cliché now to even acknowledge such things but the truth is the truth and I’ve promised myself I’m not going to lie. Not about this. You were forced to live a lie, one that I made you perpetuate because I was afraid. I didn’t want to admit you were actually someone else. I told you just ignore the voice inside your head. I told you to pray. I told you to just go along with things because it was what god wanted. I said the things you told me, the secrets you confided in me, the confessions you wept into your pillow were all sins. I thought the devil was at work within you. Now I know different.

They wouldn’t understand. They’d think we’re sick and twisted and maybe in some ways we are. Whatever may inflict us, whatever this disease of the soul may be actually be, I don’t care. I want you. I want your cock in me. I want my cock in you. I want to lick your tight ass, to stick my tongue inside you and fell the warmth radiate. I want to hear you moan as I push inside you. I want to whimper in that ecstasy as the pressure of your swollen dick enters me. I want it all, and I want it now and forever. Religion be damned. Our family be damned.

Oh Karen, I can’t ever forget what we did. I can’t ignore the passion that lights my heart on fire every single time I think of you and that perfect body. I never wanted to put a penis in my mouth until I saw yours.  I never understood the pain you felt at hiding your true self until that night, and now I have something to hide as well. Now I understand, if only a small portion, the hell you lived through. I should have supported you. I should have loved you unconditionally like a good brother. I should have defended you and fought beside you. Would it change things if I told you I want to do those thing now? Will you come back to me and make love to me now that I understand?

When you first came out and told our parents that you were a woman trapped in a man’s body I laughed. I thought you were crazy. I didn’t understand. What you were telling me was against god. It was a sin, an unforgivable transgression that could only be wrought upon one of the faithful by Satan himself. He had tempted you, and you had been weak. I know now that I was the weak one. After you got into the screaming match with Mom and Dad I followed you upstairs. I promised our parents I would try and talk some sense into you. I sat on the edge of your bed and chided you, prayed for you, did everything but listen to you. I felt hurt, but not an empathetic kind of hurt. I felt hurt for me and our parents that we should have to suffer your insanity. I worried about the other members of the church would say, what our neighbors and friends would say.

I got angry and said things…things I wish I could take back. I left you. I walked out of your life and hated you.

The I saw you.

That day… I’ll never forget that day. You came home after a year. You had disappeared out of our lives while you lived as the person you were born to be. I became my sister. In so many ways my brother died the day you left, and good riddance. He was a fraud, a liar. You are and always have been my sister. You were born the day you left and even though I didn’t know it at the time that was the happiest day of my life.

Back to that day. You came home to get the last few things that meant anything to you. I wasn’t one of them. I sat on the edge of your bed once again, looking at you through new eyes. I’d never have thought you could be so beautiful but there you were, sunlight shimmering in off your dark hair and lighting the incredible blue of your eyes. You smiled through full lips and looked so incredibly happy that the callouses surrounding my heart fell away. I loved you once more, but not as a sibling.

I noticed your breasts immediately. How could I not? You had had them on display in that skimpy shirt, the tight V hugging the pale mounds and showing me that perfect flesh. Your thin waist curved perfectly to feminine hips, the bulge of your cock pressing against the tight jeans. It was like getting struck by lightning, the sudden and complete lust that overtook me. I’m grateful for that lust because it gave me the strength to get off your bed, cross the room, and grab you.

The look of shock in your eyes was both alluring and sad. When I kissed you, when my tongue entered your hot mouth there was a moment of resistance, and then you melted in my arms and wrapped me in a tight embrace. I grew hard, my cock pressing to yours and throbbing with electric need. I felt you grow hard and my hand sought out the firm length, digging between your smooth skin and the rough jeans. You wore no panties and I easily found the hardness, stroking it, feeling that incredible rigid heat sheathed in loose skin.

I didn’t know what I was doing when I dropped to my knees but quickly learned. Your moans and sighs were instruction enough. Oh my beautiful sister how I loved sucking your cock.

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