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My Family
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Straight Female / 47
In Love With My Brother
I've fallen in love with my own brother. More still, I've been dating him, living with him and fucking him for over a year.
We know it's wrong, but we just can't help ourselves. It just happened. Ever since we were young, we felt our connection was slightly different than normal brother and sister. A special, caring kind of bond. We never acted on it, except for a drunken kiss we shared during a night we had the house to ourselves when we were teenagers. I never forgot it.
It wouldn't come up again until about a year ago. We were both very lonely and facing difficulties. I was finalizing my divorce from an abusive husband, and he was also separating from his partner, with whom he had a now-adult daughter. Financially, I was against the ropes, so he let me move in with him until I could recover.
Long story short, we started to spend a lot more time together, more than we ever spent during adulthood (we drifted apart when he left for college –he's 50 now–). Those feelings started to blossom again and, after one night with one too many glasses of wine, I made the move. I kissed me and he didn't even flinch, he just went with it. No guilt at all (at least not at first): just one of the most fantastic nights of sex I've ever had, the fulfillment of decades of repressed desire finally released).
We grappled with the conflicting feelings of what we'd done for a brief period of time, before coming to the conclusion that if we felt attracted, it felt good, we were sincere and not hurting anybody, there was no harm in carrying on. And so we did. I slowly stopped being his sister to become his girlfriend, his lover, his whore. I'm practically his wife now. We're deeply, honestlyin love, and while we can't say it out in the open for obvious reasons, we want to continue with our relationship for as long as possible.
We know it's wrong, but we just can't help ourselves. It just happened. Ever since we were young, we felt our connection was slightly different than normal brother and sister. A special, caring kind of bond. We never acted on it, except for a drunken kiss we shared during a night we had the house to ourselves when we were teenagers. I never forgot it.
It wouldn't come up again until about a year ago. We were both very lonely and facing difficulties. I was finalizing my divorce from an abusive husband, and he was also separating from his partner, with whom he had a now-adult daughter. Financially, I was against the ropes, so he let me move in with him until I could recover.
Long story short, we started to spend a lot more time together, more than we ever spent during adulthood (we drifted apart when he left for college –he's 50 now–). Those feelings started to blossom again and, after one night with one too many glasses of wine, I made the move. I kissed me and he didn't even flinch, he just went with it. No guilt at all (at least not at first): just one of the most fantastic nights of sex I've ever had, the fulfillment of decades of repressed desire finally released).
We grappled with the conflicting feelings of what we'd done for a brief period of time, before coming to the conclusion that if we felt attracted, it felt good, we were sincere and not hurting anybody, there was no harm in carrying on. And so we did. I slowly stopped being his sister to become his girlfriend, his lover, his whore. I'm practically his wife now. We're deeply, honestlyin love, and while we can't say it out in the open for obvious reasons, we want to continue with our relationship for as long as possible.
- That's Juicy! 67
- Remove It! 2
