We were in Tampa for our grandfather’s funeral. It had been a long day at the memorial and now our parents were gone somewhere. We had a two-bedroom suite at the hotel, one bedroom for me and dad, the other for mom and Tara, my sister. I was tired so I went to lie down on my bed for a nap. Tara was sitting in a chair looking out on Tampa Bay when I laid down, with mom and dad gone she didn’t want to sit in her room alone so she was hanging with me.

I was in that zone, half awake, half asleep when I felt the bed jostle. I was barely aware that Tara gotten onto the bed with me then rested her head on my chest, threw an arm over me, and started to cry softly. Gradually I came up from my drowsiness to realize that my sister was lying with me, holding me tight as she cried out her sorrow. We had just lost a favorite grandparent and she was feeling mortal. She sniffled and wiped her nose on my shirt then buried her face deeper into my neck. Her arms clutched me tight as she mourned our loss. The close connection with my sibling was reassuring, comforting, and I sensed she felt that too. I drifted deeper into my nap as Tara grew quiet beside me.

I don’t know how long I was out but when I started coming out of my slumber, I was momentarily disorientated, I felt the form of a girl lying against me, a hand resting on the crotch of my pants. When I twisted my head and saw the top of Tara’s blonde hair, I remembered who, what and why. I needed to pee but just as I was about to nudge her to get off the bed, her fingers twitched and slid along the contour of my cock. All of a sudden, I didn’t care that my bladder was bloated, I stopped moving, it didn’t matter to my dick who had touched it, it liked the caress.

Tara shifted a leg and slid her knee over my thigh and moved her hand again, this time with more force. I looked down her body and saw that the black skirt had slid up and most of her leg was uncovered. I couldn’t see her face but I could tell she was still sleeping. I studied her leg from the ankle to where the thigh disappeared under the hem; it was long, shapely and smoothly tanned. Her hand jerked again which caused a tremor to rumble through my prick directly to my nuts. I started to grow under her touch.

My sister is 21 and I knew she wasn’t virgin but I was a little surprised that she was starting to get familiar with me as she slept; she’d shared beds with men and I was feeling the benefit of those experiences. Tara shifted, breathed warm air on my neck, and gripped the bulge of my rapidly growing erection. She started stroking it strongly while her body began undulating against my side. She was getting hot and I was reacting to her. I felt self-conscious as hell with my sister’s hand between my legs but the more she massaged and the warmer she got, the less our kinship bothered me. She was after all a very well-developed girl and was quickly turning me on. I twisted my head to look at her face and was a little surprised to see that she appeared to be still asleep. Every other girl I’d ever screwed was wide awake and willing by this stage of the game. Not Tara, she seemed oblivious that she was clutching me, her own brother. I stretched my arm over her back, cupped a butt cheek and pressed her closer to me, she bumped her groin on my leg which encouraged me to pull her skirt up and start playing with her ass. I curved my hand over her butt so that my fingers were playing between her legs. The junction of her thighs was hot to my touch and she shuddered when I slid my fingers over the damp panties, pressing on the lips of her slit.

Tara pulled her hand off me and got off the bed. She reached under her skirt, pulled her underwear off then got to her knees on the bed beside me. She went to my pants and began to open the fly. In moments she had freed my cock which had grown to XXX-Rated. I lifted my butt to let her pull my pants down to my knees then she threw a leg over my lap, centered her body and eased down until the end of my cock was lodged in her opening. I pushed up into Tara while she began to thrust her hips. I couldn’t see what we were doing because her skirt covered me but I could feel it. She was hot, wet and needy. My sister started fucking me, rolling her ass, riding my hard-on like she was on a horse. I was really starting to get into the fresh piece rocking on me when she threw back her head, gasped deeply for air then howled softly in orgasmic release. She shuddered and shook her head which caused her long blond hair to fly in all directions then stopped moving, her head hung low, eyes closed, chin resting on her chest. My sister sat immobile on me for a few seconds then got off and walked away, leaving me flat on my back, pants around my knees, a stiff prick and an aching bladder; my balls pulsed with the pressure of dammed up semen. She didn’t look back; she never said a word; in seconds the only evidence that Tara had been there were her black satin panties lying on the floor next to the bed. I had enough sense to shove her lingerie’ under the bed before dad came back.

The next morning, we all met for breakfast in the hotel dining room. I was sucking down coffee when my sister and mother came in. Tara looked at me as if she were trying to work out a puzzle, as if something mystified her. She didn’t say anything; she just looked at me oddly. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking so I said nothing except “good morning.” The breakfast chatter was about the trip home, we were flying back that day so we packed, checked out and left for the three-hour flight. My sister and I had seats together; our parents sat four rows behind us. It wasn’t until the plane was several minutes off the ground that I got enough courage to ask Tara about the day before.

“Hey, what happened yesterday, why did you do that?”

She lifted her eyes from the iPad she was playing with, “Do what?”

“You know — That.”

Question marks grew in her wary eyes, “What!?”

“Damn it Tara, you left me with a big fucking hard-on, at least you could have let me cum before you left.” I was leaning toward her, whispering so she was the only one that could hear me.

My sister jerked back from me and stared, mouth open, eyes wide, “What are you saying? What do you think we did?”

“I don’t think we did; I know we did. Don’t even try to deny we had sex!”

“No. No! Oh no we didn’t!” she almost shouted. I put my finger over my lips to shush her. Her denial was genuine, I could see that what I had said shocked and upset her.

I sat back and studied my sister’s face, her eyes were wide with fear, her body tense, “You mean to tell me that you don’t remember doing something last night?”

“Something?” she asked bleakly.

“Yes Tara, you and me, we had a little fun on my bed then you left. I can’t tell you how surprised I was because you never said a word. You pulled my pants down, climbed on, got off, then left. What the hell was all that, and why are you sitting there like you don’t remember.”

She didn’t say anything except, “Let me out.” I moved from my seat and she scrambled out of hers and fled in desperation to one of the skinny airplane toilets.

Our mom saw Tara get up and go to the toilet and after about fifteen minutes she got concerned and went to the tiny cubicle and knocked on the door, “Tara? Tara honey, are you okay?”

I didn’t hear the answer but our parent went back to her seat looking troubled. A few moments later my sister opened the door and walked sheepishly back to her seat. As I stood to let her in, she shot me a vicious glance and muttered angrily, “Don’t you ever tell anybody what happened yesterday!” She gave mom a weak hand wave then sat down frostily and jammed her pods into her ears. Sitting beside my sister, I could feel the anger and tension radiating from her and it was pissing me off. I was beginning to feel like I had raped her or something and she hated me for it. Well, I didn’t. Sure, I didn’t deflect her advances, I laid there and took it like a man, I even wished for more, but I didn’t start the ball rolling. It was her, plain and simple; she got horny and fucked me. After sitting silent for about a half hour I couldn’t take the cold shoulder any more. I faced Tara, pulled the bud out of her ear, “Why are you being such a bitch? I didn’t do anything with you that you didn’t want and you got what you were after, my nuts still ache” I complained.

My sister cringed and flinched as if I had slapped her, she shifted her eyes to me, “I don’t remember doing anything with anybody. I remember falling asleep beside you then this morning I was in my own bed. The only thing I know is that I couldn’t find my underwear.”

“What the fuck Tara, did somebody slip you a date drug or something? You’re telling me you really don’t remember what we did, in my room, on my bed? Your panties are under that bed right now unless the maid found them.”

My sister burned red around the neck and shook her head in resignation, “I wasn’t dirty or messy this morning. Why? Did you pull out?”

“No, damn it, you took what you wanted then ran off as soon as you got it, I didn’t have a chance to get mine.” Tara sat back in her seat and closed her eyes, but not before I saw them water up. She started to sniffle, holding back tears as she slowly shook her head in denial. I could see that she wasn’t angry at me, but I was still a little miffed at her behavior, and truly puzzled why she said she didn’t remember. She wasn’t drunk, she didn’t act drugged and she wasn’t repulsed by fucking her brother, at least not when she was doing it. I grabbed a book and tried to read.

Nothing more was said until almost two weeks later. Tara still lived with our parents but I had my own bachelor pad across town. It was small, poorly furnished, the floor tilted, the faucets leaked and I had to struggle every month to pay the rent, but I lived alone and liked it that way. I was getting ready for a date when the doorbell rang. I peeped through the spy hole and saw Tara bouncing nervously in front of the door. We hadn’t seen each other since we got off the plane so it was a surprise to see her there, especially on a Friday night.

I opened the door and let her in, she dropped her coat over the arm of my sofa then looked up at me, “I have somnambulism.”

“What? You have what?

“Somnambulism. I’m a sleepwalker. I’ve been doing it for years. Mom and dad know about it but we never told you.”

“What is that? A sleepwalker, are you like some kind of zombie or something? Are you okay, I mean is this gonna kill you?”

I got a weak smile from my sister, “No I won’t die from it but I might die from embarrassment some day because of it. What I did in Tampa is probably the most awful thing I’ve done.”

At least she wasn’t in denial, but I still didn’t understand, “You mean to tell me you have some kind of disease that makes you forget you do things?”

Tara stood face to face with me, “It’s not a disease, at least the doctors tell us that; what happens to sleepwalkers is that they do things in their sleep and don’t remember what they did. Some people clean house, some drive cars, some just sit in front of a TV for a while. Usually I just fuss with my hair but I never remember doing it.” She walked to my front room, “For years I couldn’t figure out why I would wake up in the mornings and my hair would be in curlers or done up with ribbons and stuff. I finally told mom about it and she took me to a doctor. He pointed me towards a psychologist and she figured out I’m a sleepwalker. I don’t doubt I that I had sex with you in Tampa, I just don’t remember it, and I would have never known if my panties weren’t missing and you hadn’t said anything.”

“Jesus Tara, that’s fucked. How come you never told me?”

“I asked mom and dad not to say anything, I’m kind of embarrassed about it all,” her cheeks started to glow, “now especially after what I did with you.”

I took her hand in mine and looked directly into her deep blue eyes, “You don’t have to be embarrassed; I’m not going to say anything to anybody, not about us or your disease.”

“It’s not a fucking disease!” she snapped, “It’s a brain twitch or something, I’m normal! I think normal, I act normal, I look normal. I’m not perverted or diseased!”

I had to calm her down, “Okay, sit over there at my laptop and Google up this condition and let me read about it, I’ll skip my date with Kerry.”

Tara looked up at me, “You would stand up a girl for me?”

“She’s not very interesting anyway; I’ll probably have more fun reading about your twisted head.”

Tara could hear the tease in my voice and smiled, “You’re an asshole for sure.”

“And you are perverted, you fucked your own brother.”

As she turned away, she fired her own taunt, “Yeah, but it wasn’t memorable, so much for you.” I called Kerry and begged off the date with some lame excuse.

Tara sat at my desk and looked up several medical articles about somnambulism. After about an hour and two bottles of beer I had a better understanding of what might be happening in my sister’s head. She closed down the search engine and sat with me on the sofa, sipping her second beer. I’d gotten some general information about sleepwalkers, but I still didn’t know about my sister’s particular habits. “Tell me what you do when you sleep walk. I mean you say you don’t remember but you see the things you’ve done. What’s it like?”

“It happens maybe once or twice a month. I’ll wake up in the mornings and my hair will be in a ponytail or I’ll have pins and clasps in it. Every time I do, I try hard to remember doing it but I don’t. I see the clutter at my vanity and know I sat there and messed with my hair.”

“What about other stuff? Ever find out you’ve done anything else?”

“You mean besides balling my own brother? No, and I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I had sex while sleepwalking. I’ve been screwed in my sleep before, but you have to expect that when you spend the night with some guy.”

“What triggers the episodes?”

“I don’t know, I always try hard to remember what I was doing or if I was stressed or anything before I went to bed, but I never found a pattern. Maybe it has something to do with sun spots or something.”

“Can I help; is there anything I can do to help you find out how or why this happens?”

Tara looked at me with tender eyes, “You want to help me; you really care that much?”

“Of course, I care that much, you’re my sister, and if I can help you find out what triggers these little night time activities, maybe you can get over them.”

“What could you do that the fucking head doctors haven’t tried already?” She sounded angry, frustrated.

“For starters you say you’ve been keeping track of when this happens?”

“Uh huh, I started keeping notes a long time ago, when I did something and what I did.”

“Ever try to analyze the days or dates to find anything common or a pattern of occurrences? Does this happen when you are near or on your period?”

“No, I have separate cycles, my menstrual and my head, they don’t match up.”

“Let me help put it all together, bring your notes over and maybe we can figure out more about your tic.”

I sat back and thought about my sister while I watched her tip her glass to her lips. My cock twitched with the memory of her body and I wondered if she looked as good naked as she felt that night. Tara is 5’7, pretty and built like a Bunny. Her bright yellow hair falls over her shoulders in long Farrah Faucett tresses, old fashioned but sexy. Her eyes were those of a deep ocean; clear, blue, fathomless and brimming with life. Long lashes accent her eyes over a straight narrow nose that points toward full, naturally red Cupid’s Bow lips, she didn’t need lip gloss but the shade of red she wore just then looked volatile. She was wearing a blouse cut in a deep V, giving me a pleasant view of the treasures spilling from her bra.

When she got up to leave, she put her arms around my waist, laid her head on my shoulder. She was leaning against me lightly; I could feel the tips of her bra pressuring my chest. “Thank you for listening to me and trying to understand this” she said quietly.

I lifted her chin to look down at her, “I meant what I said, I’d like to help you understand this, whatever ‘this’ is.” She smiled a genuine happy smile and kissed me, her soft lips barely grazing mine.

“Let me think about it” then she left.

Two days later she brought me the journal she had been keeping. I promised her I would try to pin down a pattern or something that would trigger her sleepwalks. She told me that some of the things she wrote were very private, but I could read them because it might help her. I asked her what private things I would see. “You know,” she answered shyly, “things like masturbating and men stuff.”

“Are you telling me you started having sex before the sleepwalking started?”

“No, not sex, that was a long time after, but the masturbation started before.” She was crimson as she spit out her confession. I had to stifle my reaction to the stricken look on her face.

I worked out a grid of dates for when Tara wrote about her night walking. I listed what she did, what she had done the day before the incident, she even put down what she ate so I used that too. I didn’t have a start date for all this because she didn’t start a diary until sometime after it all began. I made a note to ask her when she thought she did her first sleepwalk. Maybe something traumatic happened to set off the spells.

I worked on my analysis for more than a week and when I thought I had enough information I called Tara to come look at it. She came over on Saturday afternoon and we settled down with my spreadsheet and notes. Before we hit the books, I offered her a shot of tequila with a beer chaser. We took the shot then went to my notes.

We sat on the sofa side by side and looked at the computer screen, my sister started, “Did you get all that figured out already?”

“Yeah, look here.” I brought up my presentation which showed a row of dates and several columns of information such as what she ate, what she did before, during and after her night adventures. The last entry was ‘Fucked my brother? How far has this gone?’

I had turned all that information into charts and graphs set up as event, dates, and before and post activities. As she watched I merged the dates chart over the activities and events charts and a pattern emerged. Tara looked at the converging information then started to turn red, “Are you sure this is right? You didn’t fuck with it just to screw with me?”

I shook my head, “That’s right out of your book; I set this up line for line from what you wrote. What do you see?” I asked her.

She studied my monitor for a few moments then revealed, “Most of my sleepwalking happens on important dates, at least important to us,” she pointed to the laptop screen, “there’s our birthdays, mom and dad’s birthdays and anniversary, Christmas, 4th of July, Thanksgiving, all the biggies are here. Look here,” she pointed, “aren’t these grandma and grandpa’s birthdays too? All four of them?” she asked in awe.

“That’s the 16 days in the year when we all get together and celebrate something, that’s about right for your once or twice a month habit.”

Tara got excited, animated as she pointed out the pattern, “Every year, it’s the same! I do this stuff right after we have a family thing! Look at it, Todd, there’s a goddamn pattern!” She threw her arms around me and hugged me tight, laughing in relief that she had finally seen at least part of the problem. “There is a motherfucking pattern!” she shouted with glee toward the ceiling. She lowered her head to face me, kissed me quickly, delightedly on the lips, “I want another shot of tequila” she demanded; wonderment sparkled in her deep blue eyes.

We went to the kitchen and opened another beer then bolted two shots of Blue Agave. My sister was agitated with joy that we had seen at least a pattern to her somnambulism. “Let’s go back, I want to see if we can figure out what causes me to do this now. You think we can?”

“Everything you put in your book is there, you might find something.”

“Everything?” she looked a little sheepish.

I put on my best Bogart impression, “Yeah, sweetheart, even the sexy stuff.”

It didn’t take long to decipher the series of events that coincided with her sleepwalks. There was a sexual component. Her translated notes showed that Tara had most of her night walking episodes after some sort of sexual adventure. A few times after she had sex with a guy but even more when she took care of herself; by that I mean masturbation. Some of her sleepwalking didn’t have a sexual trigger but the majority did, maybe 75 percent.

“So, what we are looking at,” she observed, “goes something like this: We have a get together for a family celebration, then after that I have sex or get myself off then I fix my hair in the middle of the night.”

“Something like that.”

Tara’s focused on a distant spot over my shoulder and asked almost to herself, “I do sex stuff more than 16 times a year, why only after those days?”

“I don’t know but you’ve been consistent.”

She stood up and went to my window and looked across the street at a small city park, “It’s almost dark, let’s take a walk, I need to think.”

We walked; she crooked her arm in mine as we ambled through the park. It was quiet, serene almost, the longer we stayed there the less tense my sister grew, I could feel the tightness fading with the weakening sun. She talked part of the time, mostly to herself, a one-sided conversation as she tried to analyze the information I had put together. As her mind wrestled with the problems and facts I was working on my own. I kept thinking about what she did to trigger her events. She had some form of sex before she did her hair at midnight. But only after a family event. What the hell did it all mean? What was the common factor? What was the definitive trigger?

I stopped my sister beside a tree and turned to her, “What do you fantasize when you do yourself, what do you think about when you have sex?”

“Jesus Todd, don’t you think that’s a little too personal? I’m not going to tell you that.” She was turning red.

“Alright, you don’t have to say, but think about it; maybe whatever is running around your head when your hormones are in charge might have something to do with all this. Remember, this is a glitch in your head so what you think may cause this.”

Tara was beet red in the face when she left me standing.

We didn’t get any more done that night. Tara didn’t want to share her fantasies with me so she went home. I looked at the computer a little longer but it was stuck in my mind, something she thought about while turned on set up her night walks. She called me three days later, “Can I come over?”

“Sure, you want to work on your problem again?”

She answered quietly, “I think I know what sets me off, but it’s so private I would never tell anybody, I wouldn’t even put it in my journal and you know I didn’t hold back any secrets there.”

“So, do you want to tell me or you want to find a work around?”

My sister paused, “I don’t know what I want yet, but I need to face you when I say it, that’s why I’m coming over, to see how you react.”

I was mystified, why was she being so dramatic? After everything I read in her diary, I couldn’t imagine what deep dark secret she needed to share. “Okay, Kerry dumped me a couple of days ago, I’m not going anywhere.”

She came in an hour later and hung a light sweater on a hook by the door. It was a hot day and she was dressed for the weather. My sister was wearing a pair of white ass hugging summer shorts that went only a couple of inches down her thighs from the crotch. A brief tank top covered her bra-less tits but stopped short of her bellybutton so her midriff was bare except for a crystal navel pin and a tattoo of a Rose. The white shirt was decorated with the Olympic Rings; the end rings circled the nipples of her tits, blue on the right, red to the left. Double strap sandals adorned her feet, her thick yellow hair was done in a casual ponytail.

The first words out of her mouth were, “Sorry about your girlfriend ditching you, she shouldn’t have done that.”

“Doesn’t matter, we tried to like each other but it wouldn’t have been a long-term thing. Besides, the way you look right now I’d much rather be here, you look volcanic, what’s the occasion?”

“This is what I was wearing when I called you, no occasion, just a visit with my- eam y –.”

“Your what, you mumbled?”

She avoided my eyes, “Never mind, do you have any beer?”

She sat on the arm of my sofa facing me, legs splayed to either side of her roost. I tried not to stare at her crotch but my eyes were magnetized to the form of her body under the tight fabric. The way she sat there, so nonchalantly, it was as if she were inviting me to ogle her.

I managed to fluster, “So what did you want to tell me? Have you figured out what’s going on in your head yet?”

Tara flushed from cheeks to neck, “I think so, but I don’t know what I should do. I mean I know what my mind does, what I think, but I don’t know if I can tell anybody, even you. It scares me to think this could ruin my life or screw up us up so much you wouldn’t want me around anymore, but keeping this bottled up will make my head bust. I don’t want to go flippy but I don’t want anybody else to flip out either. I think I need help, maybe I should tell my shrink.”

“So, what the fuck do you think is wrong with you? Something physical or is something playing with your head?”

She fidgeted, looked at me carefully, “Not something; somebody is playing with my head. It’s hormonal, you know, my hormones take over, I have sexy thoughts and I can’t make them go away. I can have sex or play with myself but the thoughts never go away. They fade out for a while but then the cycle starts again whenever we have one of those family gatherings. I’ve thought about this a lot, I studied your charts and I know what is going on, I just don’t know what to do about it. I’m all fucked up in the head and I don’t know how to unfuck it all.”

“So what gets you going Tara? If you know, you should be able to stop it or deal with it.”

My sister stood up facing me, her breasts rose sharply as she took a deep breath then fell slowly as she sighed, “It’s you. You set me off.” She spun and fled to the kitchen for another beer.

I followed her. Me!? I triggered her sleepwalking? How? What did she mean? Those questions crashed into my mind as I watched her bend over to get a beer from the fridge. The fabric of her shorts stretched even tighter as she bent, giving me a fine show of her butt and legs. She straightened up and handed me a bottle then brushed aside to sit at the breakfast table. “What do you mean I set you off? That sounds pretty sexual. You mean that my being around you at the family gatherings makes you sleepwalk?”

She looked up at me, “Sit down Todd and listen. Please don’t say anything until I stop talking. If you interrupt me, I’ll walk out. Tell me you won’t say a word unless I ask you a question.”

“What’s with all the fucking mystery?”

“Goddammit, don’t be a prick, just listen!”

I sat back, surprised at the anger in her voice, “Okay! Okay, I’ll sit here like a dummy. What’s up Sis?”

My sister leaned forward on the hard kitchen chair and propped her elbows on the table. She motioned me to sit opposite her. “It all started while I was in the grip of puberty. I was changing, my body hurt, my mind was all screwed up. Normal teen girl stuff; my friends and I were all suffering the same crap. Most of my friends were panting after you but you’re three years older than us so you hardly noticed we existed. You didn’t pay attention to me but I watched you. I watched you go through girlfriends like a spoiled rich asshole spending money and I wondered why they would throw themselves at you like that. It never occurred to me that you were a hot looking sports star and that attracts a lot of girls. I mean I liked it that you lettered in three sports, but since you were my brother, I wasn’t going ga-ga over you like all my friends.

“Then one day I saw you in the back yard screwing some girl. Mom and dad weren’t home and you had her on a blanket in the shade of that big tree back there. It was a warm day; you were both naked and you were fucking her like crazy. I didn’t know who she was but she looked like she was having a lot of fun. I sat in my window and watched you for almost an hour, you screwed her two times and necked and played with her a lot between.” Tara burned red, looked out my kitchen window. Seconds later she continued, “When you were done and she left, I played with myself, it was the first time I ever had an orgasm.” She dropped her eyes and added softly, “That was also the first time I fixed my hair when I was sleeping.

“After that I never looked at you the way I did when I was growing up. I mean you were always kind of like a hero but you became a sexy hero. I started noticing the way different clothes fit you; I had favorites. I always liked those white Dockers on you; they made your crotch bulge and fit tight on your ass. I still like it when you wear button shirts and don’t button the top two. Anyway, it was after that day that I started waking up sometimes with my hair all different. It drove me nuts for over a year because it happened several times. I never knew what was going on, I thought some of my friends were sneaking over and fucking with me while I was sleeping. I even accused Madeline of doing that and she told me I was daft. Then you graduated and moved out to go to college and I stopped fixing my hair at night. For almost a year nothing happened then all of a sudden it started up again. I put up with it for a while but finally told mom what was going on. That’s when she took me to the doctors. I could never put any of it together until you showed me those charts then it all made sense. I know what drives my sleepwalking.”

“But -” I started, Tara shot me an ugly glance and shook her head, I stopped mid-thought.

She lowered her head and said quietly, “Now it gets hard to tell, please don’t think I’m some kind of creepy or really perverted.” She looked into my eyes, hers were pleading for understanding, I nodded my permission to continue. “You’re the reason I do what I do. I know that now and I know what starts it; not why, but what. I never got over thinking you are sexy and whenever we have our family gatherings, I’m around you for hours sometimes and I like the closeness. After you go home, I go to bed and I make myself cum while thinking about you.” She was burning red; I could only sit there stunned at what she was saying. When I’m with someone, you know, a guy, and we are doing it, sometimes I think about you more than him and I get off harder. It’s after those days when I do the sleepwalking stuff. She looked me straight in the eyes, “You turn me on, and because of that I’m all fucked up in the head. I never put it all together until just a couple of days ago. All those years I didn’t know, isn’t that some kind of justice for being such a shameless bitch?” She shifted back on the chair, “Now you can talk.”

I stared at my little sister. She sat across from me, long blonde ponytail resting over left shoulder, covering her breast, bottomless blue eyes evaluating my reaction. She was stunning to look at while waiting for me to say something. For years I secretly lusted for her but I knew there was no chance of ever consummating our sibling relationship with sex, but there she was proclaiming to have a deep private desire for me. As I watched her wait expectantly, my cock grew long and solid in my pants. “What should we do, how can I help you get me out of your head?” was the only thing I could think of to say.

“I don’t know Todd, I’m open to suggestions” she sat up straight, and took another sip of her beer. I got off my chair and held out a hand to her. Tara looked at the evidence of my lust then looked back into my eyes, hers were full of permission, she took my hand. I pulled her off the chair and started toward my bedroom towing her with me, Tara didn’t balk or hesitate, she went willingly. In the bedroom Tara’s hands went to my pants where busy fingers started on my fly. I snapped opened her shorts then pushed them down her legs so she stepped out of shorts and panties while I kicked my pants free.

Moments after we got to my room my sister and I were naked below the waist. My cock was straining to keep from bursting from the pressure of my racing blood; she was shaking like a leaf on a breezy day. Tara backed up to the bed and fell backwards across it, legs wide, arms up, inviting me into them, inviting me into her. I stepped to the side of the bed, put the head of my erection against the lips of her body then slipped easily into the hot wet tunnel. I leaned over my sister, put my hands on the bed beside her head then fucked her. She watched my face intently while our bodies slapped against each other, my cock was plunging deep into her while our stomachs rubbed and chafed. Tara smiled with lips and eyes then rolled her head to the side and grabbed my ass, urging me to bang her harder. Her tits shook and quivered each time my balls slammed against her. She lifted her feet off the floor and crossed her ankles over my waist. The fire in my balls grew in intensity as I pummeled my sister. She was getting wilder, less controlled, gasping and humping the longer we fucked.

She turned her head to look at me again, “Years, Todd, I been thinking about this for years!” Her eyes went wide open, her mouth formed an ‘O’ and she began to chant into my ear, “uuuuhh-uuuuhh-uuuuhh! Oh my god, faster Todd! NOW!” Tara arched her back and clung tight to my body as hers started shaking. Her temperature skyrocketed as the orgasm beat her senses to pulp. My balls were pumping for joy as they fired shot after shot into my sister’s body. She fell back onto the bed motionless, breathing deeply, eyes closed, the hint of a smile on her closed lips. My cock twitched one final spurt of juice into her then I let it slip out. I stood beside the bed and looked at the body lying in front of me and felt another surge of hormones slam into my nuts. It wasn’t going to be very long before I fucked her again. Tara held up an arm and I took her hand and pulled her up to a sitting position. She looked at the half hard prick hanging from my groin then put her fingers around it. “I knew I wanted to take you to bed ever since I saw you screwing Jessica in the back yard. I didn’t know that wanting this would make me a sleepwalker.” She tugged on my prick lightly and smiled up at me.

“Jessica? You said you didn’t know who that was.”

“I lied. Every time I saw her after that I hated her, I would never forget the name of a girl I hated.”

“Do you still hate her?”

She stood up in front of me still holding my cock, “She’s history Todd, yours and now mine, but I don’t want to be part of your history, is what we did going to change us? I don’t want to drive you away because I’m a perverted incestuous slut or something.”

She looked so worried that I had to tease her, “You are a perverted incestuous slut, and because you are, I’ll have to become a perverted incestuous slut fucker. I told you last week I would help you any way I could, think we can work that out?”

Tara threw her arms around my neck, pressed her magnificent body hotly against me and put her mouth over mine, the kiss was thrilling and sensual. She felt my erection hardening against her again as she leaned her head back and looked up into my eyes, “Yeah, I think we can work it out.” Tara stepped back, pulled her shirt off, helped me shed mine then we fell to the bed together.

She pushed me to my back then rolled up and over me, she was lying full length on my body, her nipples were denting my chest when she put her mouth over mine. She raised her hips so I could hold my erection in place while she slipped down on it. When the lips of her sex were kissing my groin, she pushed up then began to ride the saddle with a growing heat and passion. We were both dripping natural lubrication so my cock slid in and out with no resistance. She was steaming hot, her cunt swollen with desire. I penetrated her as far as I could and felt her full weight settle on me. She stopped moving with her head on my shoulder, her breath felt like a desert wind, Tara shuddered a deep breath then started to gyrate her hips, moving her pussy on my cock. She began slow and I reacted to her by thrusting against her. In moments her movements became more urgent, more frenzied as she absorbed the feeling of having sex with someone she had been dreaming about for more than five years.

I didn’t feel it coming; all of a sudden, she slammed her eyes shut and began to vibrate. All rhythm was gone; she thrashed against me as the orgasm rampaged through her, I couldn’t control the tempest impaled on my cock. Gradually her cramps subsided and she relaxed down on me and lay still. I was still rock hard inside her so I stroked her a few more times to see how she would react. She reached with her hands and pulled my face to her and kissed me again. She rolled off me, holding me close to keep my hard-on in her and when we were done moving around, I was over her, still lodged deeply between her legs. With no more than a few moments pause I began screwing my sister again. As Tara got more used to me, she got more and more ravenous, her level of need and desire climbing swiftly to another sensational orgasmic peak. She was on her back with her legs entwined in mine when the orgasm broke free from her womb and began to ricochet through her. She arched her back, jammed her hips against me and covered her mouth with a hand as she yelped sharply with the contractions of her body. My cock began to seize, spurting jets of cum and lust into the hot tender depths of my younger sister.

Tara and I stayed on the bed and talked about what we were feeling, about what we thought of each other, about repressed feelings and desires. It took an hour of recuperation before I made a proposition she didn’t refuse. After the third time I fucked her that day we were lying side by side, cooling off. I tilted my head to her, “This incest crap could get to be a habit real fast.”

Her smile was genuine, “I formed the habit years ago but never thought you would want to.”

“Well now you know.”

Tara smiled with huge sparkling eyes, “Yeah, now I know.” Having said that she closed her eyes and drifted away. My sister didn’t get up to fix her hair that night, but she did get fucked again, while she slept.

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