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I lost my job due to the pandemic and the many, many business closures across the country. I had some savings, but not enough to last. Once my unemployment ran out, I needed to save on cash as much as possible, so I looked into giving up my one-bedroom apartment. At thirty-eight, I was still young enough that I felt I had good prospects for finding employment. Alas, that proved not to be the case.
Jobless, and potentially homeless, I reached out to friends and family. My forty-one year old sister, who lived one state over, gave me an open offer: I could stay with her as long as I needed until I found a new job and was back on my feet. I gratefully accepted, and took up the bedroom vacated by my niece who had gotten married the year before.
My sister, Tabitha, was all too happy to have me around. Divorced, she had only had her daughter, Laney, to keep her company. Once Laney got married, Tabitha was all alone.
When I arrived, she met me at the door and gave me a tight hug. “I’m so happy you’re here!” she said.
I was embarrassed by the reason why, and accepted her warmth and hospitality with humility and gratitude. “I really appreciate this, sis,” I said as I dragged my duffle across the threshold. “I mean it.”
Tab showed me to what would be “my room”. It was sort of small, and still had that “girl’s room” kind of vibe to it-white walls and pink-and-white striped wallpaper. But it was private, and I could have my time alone, and I was thankful.
“Oh, you can decorate it if you wish,” my sister said as she saw my eyes scan my new accommodations. “Laney won’t mind. And I need to accept that she’s grown and moved on with her life.” Tabitha sounded a bit sad, but I was tired from my trip and simply nodded.
“Thanks,” I mumbled again. “This is-fine. Great! This is great.”
My sister gave me a look and smiled appreciatively. “Well, the bathroom is down the hall. Just a shower and toilet. I have the only bath,” she went on as she showed me around the house.
“And that’s about it,” Tabitha finished and turned around to face me. We had ended in the kitchen after she showed me the laundry room, right off the garage. “Towels and linens are in the hall, right outside Laney’s-I mean, your-room.”
I stood there numb as the reality of all I had lost sank in. “Thank you, Tab,” I said. “I hope it won’t be for long.”
My sister pooh-poohed me. “Don’t worry,” she said. “As long as you want. I just hope I don’t scare you away!”
I smiled tiredly down at her. “You won’t.”
She glanced up at me and then grew shy. “Well, I am off to watch a little television. You’re welcome to join me! I do have my usual programs I like to watch, but if there’s anything you want to watch instead…?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure it will be fine. I’m beat, to be honest, and might just want to grab a quick shower and a nap.”
Tabitha nodded. “Very well,” she said. “I’ll make you something when you get up.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said.
“Oh, I’d be doing it anyway,” she replied. “Is there anything you like? Anything in particular? Do you eat meat, still?”
I nodded. “Yep. Meat, carbs-all the things that aren’t good for me,” I laughed.
Tabitha chuckled. “Me, too.” She paused. “Do you still like lasagna?”
I smiled. “You remember!”
Tabitha laughed. “Of course! You made Mom make it for you for almost every birthday. That, and pie for dessert instead of cake!”
I chuckled. “Cherry pie,” I said. “I remember. God, so many years ago. I haven’t had that in ages!”
“I’ll see if I can find some cherry pie,” Tabitha told me.
“Really-don’t go to any trouble. I don’t want to add to your expenses.”
“Don’t be silly,” my sister said and got up and wrote “pie” on her grocery list. “Just write down anything you need and I’ll get it when I go to the store. I only make a trip once a week…”.
I nodded. “I did the same. This COVID thing changed-well, a LOT of things. No more frequent trips to the store; no movies; no…”
“Job?” Tabitha said. She gazed at me sympathetically. “Really, Brian-I don’t mind you being here. We’ll get through this together. And I really am happy to have you here! A big, strong man around the house-well, it has been a while, I can tell you. I-I’ll feel safer knowing you are around.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
We had “a moment”-shared gratitude for each other’s presence-and then it got awkward and we shifted, each going our separate ways, me to shower and her to the den.
It felt good to take a hot shower after my nine-hour drive. And with nothing else to do, I unpacked and then took a nap. I woke to the smell of garlic and meat and wandered out to the kitchen. Tabitha was making spaghetti with a meat sauce, and it smelled fantastic.
“Mmmm! Smells good, sis!” I told her as I wafted aromas over my face from the stove.
Tab smiled. “I just hope it tastes good.”
“I’m sure it will be great,” I said.
Standing there, I looked her over, noting the fullness of her breasts beneath her T-shirt, and experienced a stirring of arousal bahis firmaları in my body. I felt a rush of embarrassment and quickly diverted my attention, but was surprised when I felt my sister’s arms around me, giving me a warm hug.
“Oh, I am so happy you are here!” she said again, and hugged me tight.
I awkwardly extricated myself, doing that weird backward thrust of the waist to keep my semi-rigid, stirring pocket snake from being felt by accident. “I’m happy, too,” I said.
My sister looked me up and down and motioned for me to sit. “Well, I hope you’re hungry. You look like you’ve lost weight.”
I shrugged. “It’s possible. I haven’t been trying, mind you, but I did scale back on my meals to save a little money.”
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that, now,” Tabitha said and brought me a heaping plate of spaghetti. She poured a ton of sauce on it and set it in front of me. “Wine?” she asked, holding a bottle of red.
“Uh-sure,” I replied. Carbs and wine-I’d be sleeping deeply in not too short an order with that combination.
The meal was fantastic. I only ate one plateful, which was more like a serving-and-a-half, and we shared the entire bottle between us. My sister picked up the dishes, though I started to help. She motioned for me to sit down, pushing me down into my seat when I tried to stand.
“No, no,” she insisted. “Not tonight, anyway. You’re tired from your trip, and I like doing this.” She smiled and reached past me to grab my plate. Her breasts brushed my shoulder as she did so, and I felt a renewed surge of reflexive arousal. Thankfully, I was seated, so my temporary bulge was hidden.
“That was great, sis,” I said warmly. “Thank you.”
Tabitha smiled and rinsed the dishes. I stared at her figure unconsciously as she stood at the sink, taking in her muscular legs and well-rounded ass that were revealed by her pale blue shorts. My sister could lose a few pounds, but she was still a very attractive woman.
MILF? I asked myself as I quietly appraised her body. My cock stirred more firmly in response. I suppose that’s a ‘yes’?
I didn’t pursue the thought any further. I was stuffed and feeling logy, and a little buzzed, to be honest, from all the wine.
“TV?” Tab asked and held her hand out to me and guided me into the den. She gestured at the sofa, and I plopped onto it. She turned on the set and curled up on what I assumed to be “her end”-it had that tell-tale depression in the cushions that suggested constant use.
We watched TV together, not really making conversation, which suited me fine. I was tired, and not terribly social by nature anyway. I did feel a little depressed about not being free to watch my usual programs, leaning more toward sci-fi and action/intrigue. But I was the guest, and I didn’t want to disrupt my sister’s routine. I knew what losing my routine was like.
This was how things went for the next several days. I woke to breakfast made by my sister, or grabbed some cereal, and we ate together. I would go to my room and scroll about looking for work, and then-after maybe an hour or two of that, which left me feeling a bit depressed-I’d have a mid-morning snack and watch a little TV with her. Then it was back to check on any possible responses (there weren’t any) and I browsed for apartments and so on, getting to know the area and what my expenses were likely going to be. It all took a slow toll on me emotionally, to be honest.
And then I’d console myself by browsing for porn on my computer. At home, I’d have tons available to me, and the ability to watch it on my big TV and jerk off to it. Here, I was restricted to my small laptop and jerking off in my room.
Ah well… No big deal, I suppose.
The afternoons were much the same-about an hour of “job hunting,” followed by lunch, and then I’d write. Porn. “Erotica.” I found that I had a rich sexual imagination, and that there were readers out there who enjoyed my fantasies and stories, and so I found some small satisfaction in (hopefully) giving others pleasure in their lives by sharing mine.
I had a few published online, with more in the works, and indulged in working on them-refining them or adding to them, or altering them, and so on-during the afternoon. That became my “work”-writing almost every day, being disciplined about it.
I was startled out of a story by a knock on my bedroom door. I had to close my fly as I often fondled myself while I wrote, my stories often making me rather aroused and horny, and frequently I’d masturbate once I finished a session-to reward myself as well as to relieve myself.
“What’s up?” I asked blearily as I cracked open the door to see my sister standing there.
“Just wanted to see if there was anything you wanted from the store?” Tabitha asked. She spied my laptop on the desk and glanced at me. “How is the job search going?”
I frowned a bit. “Not good,” I admitted. “But I keep looking.”
She reached out and put her hand on my arm. “Don’t stress over it,” she said. “You can stay as long as you want. I am in no rush to kaçak iddaa get rid of you.”
I smiled a bit at the reminder and nodded. “I can’t think of anything I need,” I said.
“Maybe some hand lotion?” my sister asked, her eyes glimmering with amusement.
I turned and looked back at the desk. I had a small bottle of lotion on the floor next to my chair where I’d set it down in preparation for my masturbating. I turned red.
“Brian!” my sister laughed and pat my chest. “It’s okay! I don’t mind. I’d be surprised if you weren’t from time to time,” she said. “I mean, you don’t have a girlfriend, and haven’t gone on any dates, so…”.
I frowned. “Dates? How can I date anyone when I don’t have a job and I’m living with my sister!” My tone was much more upset than I intended, and Tabitha flinched a bit.
“Bri,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry, Tab. I – I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
My sister stepped past me and looked down at the laptop screen. “You’re doing some writing?” she asked.
Oh shit! ‘Don’t read, don’t read, don’t read’ I repeated in my head, hoping she wouldn’t take a look.
Naturally, my sister leaned forward and scanned the page. She stood and looked at me. “Porn?” she asked.
I blushed. “Erotica,” I replied. “At least, I hope it is. I’d like to think it is a step above ‘porn’.”
My sister grinned playfully and turned back to my laptop. “I can always look it over, if you’d like…”.
I was stunned by that. “You-you would?”
“Sure,” Tabitha said as she turned back to me. “I mean, I like a good trashy romance novel. I don’t see how this would be any different.”
I gazed at her uncertainly. “I guess…”.
Tabitha smiled and crossed over to me. “It would be fun,” she said. “Like having my own personal novelist.”
I smiled back at her. “I suppose I could…” I replied. “But, uh-some of this is just sex, you know? I mean, no romance, just-fucking…”.
Tab quirked a grin. “I know,” she told me. “I saw that with your current-scene?”
I felt myself turn red once more, and she chuckled. “Oh, Brian-don’t be such a prude! I like sex! I masturbate, too, so don’t think you’re the only one who gets horny. And I like a little porn from time to time, so don’t feel weird or embarrassed about sharing your writing with me.”
I looked down at her and felt my shame fade away. “Really? I mean-well, sure-yeah, alright. I’ll show you some of my stuff, if you’re interested, and you can-maybe-give me feedback? What you liked and what didn’t work and so on? It might make my stuff better.”
Tabitha smiled. “Who knows?’ she said as she walked past me. “Maybe this is how you’ll make your living? Anais Nin did.”
“Anais Nin? A female writer from the thirties and forties? She wrote erotica, along with Henry Miller and Gore Vidal. She became known for her erotic writings.”
“I doubt I’d make much at it, but-well, who knows? That’s not why I write it, but-…” I shrugged.
Tabitha touched my arm supportively and disappeared down the hall. “You never know, Bri,” she said. “Maybe I’ll be your patron and pay you to write!” She laughed and left me to my work.
Tabitha being okay with the subject of sex made me more relaxed about it and I felt less like I was hiding in my room and more like I had a space where I was free to create. I felt a twinge of optimism for the first time in a long while!
Once I finished writing, I was hard and horny-my usual state when I finished a session. And after my sister’s visit, and her admissions about sex and porn and masturbating, I felt a strange elation as I jerked off this time. I found myself thinking about Tab’s body, and it made me really aroused. The fantasy of seeing her large, bare breasts and shooting my cum all over them brought me to an intense climax in short order.
“Whoa, Brian!” I told myself as I cleaned up my mess. “That was quite a load!” I was calmer and a bit drowsy now that I had made myself cum, and went and flushed my tissues and wandered into the den where my sister was watching her soaps.
“Hey,” I murmured as I sank onto the sofa.
“Hey,” Tabitha replied, and stretched out, putting her feet on my thigh as she lay on her side, pillow under her head. “Good session?” she asked nonchalantly.
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “You could say that.”
My sister looked at me, curious. “I can’t wait to read it,” she said after an empty pause. She shifted to lay on her back, putting both her feet on my lap. I absently started massaging them.
“Mmmm-Brian…” Tabitha purred and stretched like a cat. “That feels very nice…”.
I paid more attention to her feet. “Yeah? Well, no problem,” I replied. “Any time.”
My sister grinned pleasantly. “Live-in novelist AND masseuse? I think you’re going to earn your keep very nicely here!” she laughed.
I smiled and continued working on her feet. She had very nice feet, actually, as well as her strong, athletic legs. She wasn’t tall, but-man-was she built! I started to get another kaçak bahis erection as I massaged her.
Tab closed her eyes, making little sounds of enjoyment. I stared at her body, wishing I could see more…
“If you’d like a more thorough massage…?” I offered, raising an eyebrow.
My sister opened her eyes dreamily. “Maybe later,” she muttered and cooed as I pressed really deeply into her soles. “I think I’ll be ready for a nap soon if you keep this up!”
I debated continuing or stopping, having offered an opening to a more complete viewing (and enjoyment) of my sister’s treasures. I felt a little disappointed she declined, but opted to continue.
Tabitha fell asleep, and I snuck away to my room where I sat down and started a fresh story.
I was startled out of my reverie by a knock on my door some time later. I had become so engrossed with my writing, I lost all track of time.
Tabitha poked her head in and smiled shyly when she saw me at my laptop. I had one hand on the keyboard and the other in my lap, hidden by my body from her vantage, but it was pretty clear what I was doing.
“Oops! Sorry!” Tab said, a little flustered. “I didn’t realize…”. She started to close the door as she backed out.
“No, it’s okay, sis,” I said as I looked over my shoulder. Tab had changed into her usual T-shirt and shorts. The way her shirt hung on her accented how huge her breasts were-like two cantaloupe melons hidden by a swath of cotton fabric. My lust surged at the sight.
“If you’re-busy,” she said, “I can always hold it for you…”.
“No, I’ll be there,” I answered. “I’m almost done here anyway. I can only write for a block of time before I need to take a break. Things get-fuzzy-and I find I do better if I leave it for a while.”
My sister nodded. She looked poised to say something, but then withdrew, backing out and closing the door behind her.
That was strange, I thought, and resumed stroking myself off as I reread my latest story.
“Can’t let Tab read this one!” I mused as I put my laptop to sleep and gathered up my latest mess of tissues. “She’d recognize whom I am writing about in this one too easily!”
I cleaned up and went to dine with my sister.
Later that night as I went down the hall to pee, I heard a sound from my sister’s room and went to investigate. Her door was mostly closed-but “mostly closed” is still “partly open” (to misquote a favorite movie), and I looked in. Tabitha was laying on her bed face up, one hand under her night shirt and the other pressing into her groin.
Holy shit! Tab’s masturbating! I was enthralled and stood watching her. I drew out my hard cock and spit into my hand and started stroking myself. Holy shit, sis-you’re incredible!
By the light from outside coming in through her window, I could see her fairly clearly as she writhed and moaned, rubbing her pussy and clasping her tits. My sister chewed her lower lip, making exquisite faces of ecstasy as she brought herself to climax. To my surprise and delight, though, she didn’t stop, but whimpered and resumed, pushing both hands into her groin and rubbing herself furiously.
Holy shit, Tab! What’s gotten into you?
I watched until she made herself climax twice more before settling down into a more relaxed slumber.
I snuck away, awed by what I had seen.
Holy moly… I have to include that in my story! I thought as I quietly hurried to the bathroom and drained my bladder. I went to my room and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying Tabitha’s masturbation over and over in my head.
God! She’s amazing! If only we weren’t brother and sister…
I still held to that social taboo, even if I wrote about sibling sex in my Literotica stories. Fantasizing is one thing, but doing it for real? That was something I didn’t dare follow consciously. I let myself imagine it, sure-but to seriously consider it? That was too frightening.
Life continued in this fashion for a few weeks. Me looking for work, and writing and masturbating. I worked on a few different stories, and shared the “safer ones” with Tabitha. My sister was a fair critic-praising me for what she liked, and criticizing what she didn’t.
“I really loved the sex scene here,” she said, and was a little breathless and flushed as she had just reread it. “I found myself swept up by his lust, and found myself appreciating a male’s perspective on what he enjoys about sex-what he wanted to do, and loved doing to his partner.
“But,” she said with an apologetic look, “with this one, I felt it was too rushed. Too contrived-like you glossed over the WHY he wanted to fuck his teacher, and some of HOW he managed to seduce her, playing on her signs of arousal and interest, and went right to the sex.” She handed my laptop back to me and gazed at me with an odd expression. “The sex was hot, don’t get me wrong!” she chuckled and fanned herself. “But I want more of the why, more of the characters, so it feels a little more-real?”
I frowned and nodded. “Yeah, I get that,” I muttered. Naturally I was disappointed, though Tab was trying her best to let me know that overall she liked it. That she really liked it. But I have a tendency to focus on what isn’t working so that I can fix it and make it “right”.
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