Ok, thanks. To start with i imagine ill need the comments to help me fine tune my writing.

 

Hello. I live organic self-sufficiency in the South Pacific region, at the base of an isolated, low altitude mountain range, with an ocean bay at my front. I find it a beautiful place.

I love to write erotic, sexy, romance stories about, 'Beautiful, organic self-sufficiency, sexual-paradise'.
My stories often have Son Mother, Nephew Aunty, characters in them. In all my stories, all characters involved in sexual activities are 18 years-old or over.

My reason for joining this site is because I would like to share some of my stories on: SexStories dot com.

My stories usually have some tension in them, with some form of desiring that which isn't available, but my overall theme is beauty.

I like to include in my stories nature and the beauty of it. One of the things of nature that really gets my creative expression going, but even when I get something which I'm reasonably happy with, I still feel I haven't described it as I would really like to, is the blue sky.

While just saying, 'the blue sky' is quite nice. To me, it is so, so much more, and at times I get very drawn to try and give a beautiful, zesting description of the, 'blue sky'.

However, whenever I try to describe what I feel for the blue sky, I feel like, tongue-less trying to speak. But I do enjoy trying, and remained focused on it, always looking forward to what comes to me about describing the, 'blue sky'.

I live organic self-sufficiency, and only write about; 'Beautiful, organic self-sufficiency, sexual-paradise'.

Here is a recent, 'blue sky', description from one of my recent stories –

'Varn and His Mother's Wet Panties'
~ Sometimes... it needs more than words.

[It is the opening paragraph, (after, Author's note, and Foreword)]

'The midday sun tinkled gloriously from its overhead zenith in the cloudless and wondrous, etherical blue-sky. Each succinct ray, a ringing vibrato announcement of summer splendour.'

[Here are the following three paragraphs of the story]

'Surrounded by beautiful wild-flower-meadow, which itself was held in sweet seclusion by grandeurous mountains, the day at Varn's beautiful, organic-self-sufficiently paradise, shimmered in flourishing profundity, as he sat opposite his Mother by the gently cascading stream.

They sat upon chair-high, smooth and sun-warmed ancient stones, which were not far from the stream. The stream on its opposite side was bounded by verdant forest, their glossy leaves opaque mirrors to the sun's beaming rays.

The forest backed stream, a charming backdrop to the wild-flower-meadow that sweetly encircled them from every other direction. The stream graciously meandered in a soft mesmerising trilling, as it pondered its journey over small stones, smoothed by aeons of water passage.'

[Here are the two final paragraphs of the 6,100 word story]

'As Son and Mother looked lovingly into each others eyes, each savouring the deep penetration Varn had into his Mother, a vividly and beautifully coloured butterfly settled graciously on Varn's shoulder.

With the sun's golden rays merrily abounding in radiant splendour at their stream-side seat, the amazingly coloured butterfly seemed to look at them, as if to say, 'Yes, sometimes, it does take more than words'.

 

Continuing from my previous post where I said, I live organic self-sufficiency in the South Pacific region, and love to write erotic, sexy, romance stories about, 'Beautiful, organic self-sufficiency, sexual-paradise'.

My stories usually have some tension in them with some form of desiring that which isn't available, but my overall theme is beauty.

And in describing beauty in my stories, I find it an amazing literary adventure to try and succinctly with beautiful effortlessness, describe the creamy tits or bosoms of my sexually involved, female story characters.

I feel that I can describe their tits better than I do with the, blue sky', which I talked about in my above post.

Describing the, blue sky, is an intangible beauty, but the creamy tits of my story characters are potentially very tangible. I love what comes when I'm at a place in the story where I'm describing my female character's hot tits.

I love that I can make their tits so-o-o-o hot. Fuck! I love doing that! I love doing hot descriptions with all my sexy, erotic and kinky writing.

To me, making the sexy bits of the story, sexy HOT, is as important, if not more important than the story-line itself.

Sometimes, I kind of worry that I might have exhausted my creative possibilities about describing hot and sexy, but then I start on a new story and a whole new dimension or range of descriptions come, which I love to use and which amaze me from a literary perspective.

I live organic self-sufficiency, and only write about; 'Beautiful, organic self-sufficiency, sexual-paradise'.

And I think my every story would have a description of a female character's creamy tits.

So, here is one from a story that I have just started writing. I haven't decided definitively about its title, but for now it is:

'Varn, His Mother and Aunty, and the Golden Dildo'

'With the early morning sun beaming warmly into the kitchen, I sat at the small kitchen table having breakfast with Mother and Aunty Cindy, who wore their semi-translucent, soft, lace negligees.

It was lovely to opaquely see their tits and nipples through the soft lace, and the small kitchen table had us all sitting close together. It was very comely.

The sun's rays seemed to almost shine through their semi-translucent lace negligees and sensually highlight their creamy bosoms and pink pointed nipples as they smiled and happily chatted while eating their breakfast.

Mother and Aunty Cindy both had lovely jutting tits and with the sun's rays passing softly through their semi-translucent negligees, I could easily make out the delicate and soft creamy skin of their lovely boobs, and the soft pink of their tenderly pointed nipples.

[Here's the next two paragraphs]

'I thought about the stains on their worn panties and that they were probably turned on now. I thought about them being on the warm golden dildo and their smiles as they received the exact replica of my cock up their wet pussys.

I had the feeling that it would be like fucking their wet pussys through the golden dildo, and I liked that feeling – I liked it a lot!'

 

Continuing on from my two previous posts, where I said, I live organic self-sufficiency in the South Pacific region, and love to write erotic, sexy, romance stories about, 'Beautiful, organic self-sufficiency, sexual-paradise'.

My reason for joining is to be able to submit stories to SexStories dot com.

Well, I wanted to say a bit about my feeling on the time it takes to write a story and get it to a good state suitable for publishing.

The impetus for writing about this stems from receiving the hate votes on my stories. Of course it's easy to receive the like votes, but I find it hard to receive the hate votes.

One of the things that comes up for me with hate votes, is the amount of effort I have put into writing and editing a story to get it ready for publication, and then someone reads it in a short time and then takes a moment to hate it.

Of course the hope is to have the like votes way out number the hate votes.

I did a bit of an interesting calculation about the time it takes for me to write a story from draft copy, to (polished as I can get it), publishing copy, and I shall share this calculation below.

For me, the writing is effortless, and timeless. Sometimes, I'm feeling a bit of having to work at it for a short period at the start of a writing session. I can't write unless I've got the feel for it, though.

The only thing that usually stops me when I'm writing within my self-allotted time period, is if I get hungry, and I usually ignore that until my writing time is up.

The real effort is in the editing and proof reading. I make a huge commitment to only put out stories that I have done my best to make a quality, polished story.

So, back to the time calculation.

Once the story draft is completed, then I edit the whole story for spelling, correct word use, sentence and paragraph flow, story chronological accuracy and story flow.

It's quite common for me to have a 6,000 word story, which I would publish as, Part Story, with several chapters, or a stand alone story with several chapters.

I don't really know how long it takes me to write the draft, but I could estimate it to take me around 4 to 8 hours to write my 6,000 word story.

For the story editing, I do have a better idea of the time it takes. I can not edit it all in one go, so I do a bit most days as part of my allotted writing time.

If I do a bit of editing everyday, I can finish editing my 6,000 word story it in about 6- 8 days. It depends on how much rewriting, or additional writing I do with the story.

Again, it's an estimate, but it might be about an hour per day on the editing. Then I put the story through an online grammar checker, then do a final re-read of the story before submitting it for publication.

So: 4 to 8 hours to write my 6,000 word story.
7 – 8 hours to edit it
1 hour to grammar check it and final read it.

Total for me, for my 6,000 word story is approximately 15 hours.

Which equates to approximately 9 seconds per word. Of course, it's not literally like that, but still, it does give a perspective of the effort I have put in.

I love writing my, 'Beautiful, organic self-sufficiency, sexual-paradise', stories, and quite like the editing process, so I'm happy to do it.

Well, I needed six posts to be able to submit my stories to SexStories dot com, and this is my sixth, so hopefully I can now start submitting my stories on SexStories dot com.

 

Hello, I have submitted a story to the xnxx stories page, can anyone tell me how long it takes before it is made public?

 

hi, how do i post a story?

 

I'd like to add a post here to thank everyone who has read my stories. I now have 100 posted on sexstories and for the most part they have been well received. While I wish I could go back and do some editing on the earlier ones, I'm generally satisfied with what I've created.

Since there's no way to post for the readers over there, I'll thank those of you who use both parts of XNXX.

 

So I just posted the last chapter of my story. Any honest feedback would be more than welcome.
PLEASE READ THE STORY CODES FOR EACH CHAPTER.
https://www.sexstories.com/profile1786419/DeeplyPerverted

 

I noticed that line got me hung-up while reading it. I would change "chair-high" to simply "large". I don't think including a specific height is necessary to the story and the sentence seems to flow much easier. Good stuff otherwise.

 

Okay, here goes. I've reached the required "6 message posts" to qualify for posting stories to "Sex Stories." But before I do I'm posting the story in this message below. Any input is appreciated. I'm mostly looking for big mistakes that I may have missed. I hope you enjoy "Getting My Brother Back.
Getting My Brother Back
by Fenris420

Boy. Where do I start. Certainly not here, with my younger brother’s naked body draped over me; his incestuous cum seeping out of my pussy.

I guess we need to back up, what, four or five days… no, lets go back a little further and pick up some backstory first. Yeah, let’s start there. Everything will make more sense by the end.

My name is Sarah and I have a younger sibling, my brother, Kyle. Now, Kyle and I weren’t what you would call close-close, but we got along pretty well, for brother and sister. Growing up we never had any big blowout fights with each other and, as I got older, Kyle seemed to appreciate me more and maybe even idolized me a little before I left for college.

Kyle was always the happiest of our family. Mom and I got along better than most mothers and daughters. Our family drama never rose beyond little, annoying things. Kyle and I had the kind of mom who never got mad or angry with us when we did something wrong or got into trouble. She would just look hurt and disappointed, which was way worse than yelling at us. So we tended not to get into any trouble, or we were damn sure we wouldn’t be caught. We knew that if the police brought either of us home it would have broken her heart to pieces. So we made sure that never happened and she doted on us and loved us and let us go when it was time. All in all, a pretty decent environment to grow up in.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. Kyle. Like I said, he was always the ‘happy’ kid, nothing ever seemed to darken his mood for long. Honestly, it was always refreshing and nice to have him around. He wasn’t the most popular but you always wanted him at your party because he was so likeable. And by his senior year, he had grown to a hunky 6’1” and 185 lbs of sculpted muscle. Even I, his sister, had to admit to his premium fuckability.

When I headed off to my first year of college, out of state, Kyle put on a brave face but he couldn’t hide his tears as I waved goodbye. That was the last time I saw the Kyle that was, the Kyle I remember.

I say “was” because something had changed after I left for college. Kyle had changed. Only, I hadn’t really noticed he had been replaced until I moved back to my home city where Mom and Kyle lived. The six years I had been away flew by in the blink of an eye. I did my best with phone calls to Mom and Kyle during that time; first weekly then monthly and finally every other month. The calls tended to be the same… “No, no. Nothing new. Same here.” we would all tell each other.

Looking back on it, I should have noticed the change in Kyle through our phone calls. He sounded a little less happy each time we spoke. Oh, sure, he was enthusiastic to hear my voice but, I don’t know, there just seemed to be an underlying sadness in his tone, which only deepened as the years rolled by. I was just too self-absorbed to notice.

I had called Kyle to let him know I was back in town with a new job and I would be around for a while. I asked if I could crash at his place for a week, just until my new apartment was ready.

There was something in his voice, or rather, missing from his voice. It was Kyle’s voice, but it was devoid of any happiness, any joy, any life.

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” he said. “I gotta go. I’m at work. I’ll leave the key under the mat.” his voice monotone, flat.

“Okay. I love yo…” I started to say.

*click, beep-beep-beep* my phone let me know he had hung up on me.

Yeah. Something was definitely wrong. Not just ‘off’ but seriously wrong.

It was around 11am when I arrived and the key was under the mat, just as Kyle had promised. Kyle’s apartment was a 1 bedroom in a building with 6 apartments, three upstairs and three downstairs, Kyle’s place being on the ground floor. Three other similar buildings made up the complex.

The first thing I noticed about the place was how sparse it was… like, post-apocalyptic sparse. The living room contained a not-so-new sofa, a small coffee table with a magazine, a couple of pieces of junk mail and a single coaster on it, a 30” television on some thrift store drawerless desk, and that was it. There were no pictures on the walls, no plants, no rugs, no decorations of any kind. It looked like either someone was just moving in or were almost finished moving out. Mom had told me that Kyle had been living here for almost two years.

‘Jesus, Kyle. What is going on with you?’ I thought as I surveyed the scene. This place was as lifeless as Kyle seemed to be on my brief phone call with him.

The kitchen was separated from the living room by a short counter with one rickety bar chair. There were a couple of dirty dishes in the sink. Nearly all the cabinets were empty except for two that held a handful of mismatched plates and a half dozen different cups and glasses. One drawer had a mix of forks, spoons and differing knives. I don’t think he had more than four of each. There wasn’t anything on the counters, aside from some dish soap and a sponge near the sink. Not a single appliance, no microwave oven, no mixer, no crock pot, not even a coffee maker. I couldn’t even guess if he had any pots or pans. The refridgerator had three energy drinks and a pizza box with a couple of dried up, petrified slices still in it. The only other things in the fridge were a few packets of takeout ketchup, hot sauce and a jar of pickle juice with some pickle pieces from the 1900’s at the bottom.

The bathroom was clean-ish with one of each of the basics; toothbrush, razor, etc. Under the sink was a half package of toilet paper and a few cleaning supplies. There was a single bath towel on the toliet seat. If he had more towels, I had no idea where he was hiding them. In the glass doored shower there was a bottle of body wash, shampoo, and one of those cheap, neon pink, nylon mesh body scrubbers. There wasn’t a single thing to indicate a female presence, past or present, or that one was anticipated in the future.

The bedroom had to be the worst. A full-sized bed, a beat up nightstand with what looked like a child’s lamp on it, and a pile of dirty clothes in one corner, near the closet. The closet, pfft. Not even one quarter full and nothing but jeans and two long sleeve shirts hung there. The shelf above had what looked like a set of poorly folded bed sheets and, ah, there they are, three clean towels. On the ground were a small pile of t-shirts, underwear, socks, a pair of army style boots and some worn out sneakers.

Everything about Kyle’s ‘life’, all the evidence, would have been enough to convict him, in any court, of having given up on life. All I could think was, ‘What happened to you, Kyle?. Who or what has sucked the color out of your world?’

Kyle got home a little past 6pm. “Kyle! Brother, how’ve you been?” I happily greeted him as I went in for a hug.

“What’s up, sis?” Kyle sounded tired and looked exhausted; defeated. And then there was the hug. When Kyle was a kid, he would give me the biggest hugs, using his whole body and all his strength to hug me. Now, it seemed like he was actively trying to keep from touching me, using just one arm lightly wrapped around my shoulders and broke the hug almost immediately. When had he become so allergic to me?

Crossing the room, he tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. “Sorry about the place. Um… I’ve got to be at work in 20 minutes. You need anything?”

“No. I’m fine. Kyle, is everything alright? You seem…” I didn’t want to jump right into an interrogation. It was too soon for a confrontation, so I tried the subtle approach. “…tired.”

Just before he disappeared into his bedroom. “I’m fine. Just… long hours.”

I was shaken. I’ve never felt so unwelcome in a home and I never thought I would feel that way in my own brother’s apartment. I didn’t know when Kyle could make the time but we were going to have a serious conversation… soon.

Five minutes later, Kyle was off to his second job. With a curt ’See ya later. Don’t wait up.’ Kyle practically ran out of the apartment even as I moved to hug him goodbye… my brother just left me hanging?

It was past midnight when Kyle got home. I had dozed off but woke up as he entered the apartment. As I was rising from the sofa I tried to get a conversation going. “Kyle. How was work?”

“Work was work.” he said in a tired voice.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I hopefully asked.

“No. Go back to sleep. I’m going to bed. I gotta get up early. Goodnight.” Kyle said as he tossed his keys on the counter and headed to his bedroom just as I was standing.

I stood in the middle of the living room like a statue. I debated… should I knock on his door and try to steal a few minutes… maybe get him to open up a bit, but decided against it. It was obvious he had had a long day. It took me a while to fall back asleep as my mind ran possible reasons for Kyle’s uncharacteristic behavior.

PTSD? A phase? Chemical imbalance? I kept adding to the list of possible reasons for my brother’s personality change. The worst one being the idea that his brain had restructured itself in the years I was gone. I vaguely remember reading something about people becoming completely different people overnight, for no apparent reason. I probably read that in a tabloid somewhere, but it did make me think… ‘What if I “can’t” get my Kyle back?’ That last one kept me awake for a long time.

The sound of the front door closing woke me. I peered at the clock… it was a little past 4:30am. My sluggish mind was trying to do the math from what I could remember of his work schedule. I was just too tired so I let my head fall into the pillow and fell back asleep.

Kyle came home around 6:30pm and tossed his keys on the counter.

“Hey.” was all he said.

“Kyle. What’s wrong?” I got right to the point.

“Nothing. I’m just really… tired.”

After my sleepeless night I was cranky and tired of his cold shoulder. I’m not the most patient person at the best of times and the lack of sleep didn’t help. I impatiently called his bluff. “No. You’ve changed. I’m not buying this “I’m tired” crap. What happened to that sweet kid I grew up with?”

“I grew up.”

“No. You’ve changed. There’s a difference.”

Kyle sighed as if he was tired of everything, not just this conversation. “I don’t know what to tell you, sis. I’ve got three jobs. Doesn’t leave a lot of time for much else.” he said before adding sarcastically “MIght explain why I’m tired all the time.”

“You have three jobs?! What?… Why?”

“I like to stay busy.” was all he said. He seemed so dead tired that I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not.

“Really, Kyle? Nobody works three jobs because they want to ’stay busy’. What about fun? You could stay busy having a little fun. When was the last time you had any fun? Or relaxed? Or got laid?” I pressed.

Kyle let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t worry about it. You’re only here for a few more days, then you can get back to your life and get out of mine.” Kyle said as he headed to his bedroom.

“Kyle!” I shouted, following after him. I could not believe he just said that to me.

“Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m just really, really tired.” He sighed. “Look, I’ve got Saturday off, if you want to hangout but, right now, I need some sleep.” and then he closed his door.

I didn’t see or speak to Kyle for the next two days… he left before I woke up and came back home after I was asleep. On Saturday morning, I woke to find him cleaning his pile of dirty dishes; a plate, two coffee mugs and a fork. As soon as he put the last mug away he grabbed his keys off the counter. “I’ve got some stuff to do. I’ll be back soon.” He said. I had doubts about both things Kyle said but I didn’t say anything.

As noon turned to late afternoon, I must have texted him four ‘Where R U?’ messages before he responded, ‘Busy. C U @ club. 7pm.’

‘This is ridiculous.’ I thought to myself. One way or another I was going to get some answers. Not only was Kyle not the brother I remembered, at all, but it seemed he was trying to work himself to death. It was as if he was getting ready to check out of Hotel Life and his bags were in the lobby. That last thought terrified me and I quickly pushed it away.

If I thought I was concerned for Kyle when I first got here, I was now terrified for him. I was afraid that whatever was troubling him was slowly killing him. If I couldn’t figure out what was going on with him I’d have to convince Mom to do an intervention with me.

I walked into the club and immediately began scanning the crowd for Kyle. I found him sitting at the bar with a glass of beer in his hand, staring straight ahead. He seemed detached from every other living soul in the club, which was filled with young, horny, good-looking patrons looking for their next hook-up. The place was loud with conversation and thumping music.

“Hey, bro. Where were you all day? I thought we were gonna hang out.” I questioned him as I leaned on the bar.

The bartender came by. “What can I get you?” he asked. I ordered a dark draft beer.

As I took a sip I tapped Kyle on the shoulder. He looked at me and I simply said “Well?” and shook my head to say ‘I’m waiting.’

Kyle looked in my eyes for a couple of seconds before replying flatly “Sorry. I had a few things to do.”

“Like what?” I asked as a perky, over-sexed blonde who either had a damn good fake ID or was the youngest looking 21 year old I’d ever seen, came up to the other side of Kyle.

She put a hand on his shoulder. “Hi!” she said bouncing lightly, making her spherical tits jiggle. ‘God, was this kid even out of high school?’ I wondered.

“My name’s Emma. Me and my friends were wondering if you want to join us.” I followed her eyes as she looked to a near table where three other, just as beautiful, just as young, girls were watching their friend try to pick up Kyle. They all smiled and looked hungrily at Kyle.

Kyle gave her a weak smile and called the bartender over. As he slide a $100 bill at the bartender, Emma’s eyes lit up and her smile almost blinded half the bar. She really was cute, in an innocent sexual pixie kind of way. Kyle nodded to Emma and pointed to the table of gorgeous young women. “Whatever she and her friends want, put it on my tab.” The bartender took the $100 and nodded to Kyle and then Emma.

Emma looked like she had won the lottery and slide her hand seductively over Kyle’s shoulders. Her eyes were on fire for him and it looked like Kyle would have some company for the night. Lots of company if Emma’s girlfriends thirsty looks were any indication. Good for him, I thought. Maybe that will snap him out of whatever he was going through. God knows he could use a lively night of sex with four, highly fuckable, nymphomaniacs.

But before she could open her mouth to say anything Kyle turned to her and (I can’t believe he did this) said “There. You got what you wanted…” throwing his head in the direction of a group of about 5 or 6 loud, young studs “…now why don’t you go see if those cowboys over there will ride you.”

The perky blonde with nice tits and lickable ass first looked confused, then shocked, then, with a scowl on her face, she headed back to her table of friends, sticking her tongue out and giving Kyle two middle fingers behind his back as she left.

What were smiles and flirtatious looks one minute ago were now scowls and looks of disgust directed at Kyle.

With my mouth half open in disbelief at what I just witnessed, I pulled Kyle’s shoulder, making him face me. “What the fuck was that, Kyle?”

His dead eyes looked at me for a second before, in an annoying tone, blurting out. “What? Afraid there won’t be any fuck-boys left for you?”

“Crack!” I slapped Kyle in the face, hard. My hands immediately covered my open mouth. I didn’t mean to do that… it was automatic. Not that he didn’t deserve it but I have never struck my brother like that. Ever. I was hurt and angry, but mostly I was on the edge of freaking out over a brother I no longer recognized… and didn’t know how to help.

Kyle didn’t react to my slap at all, although the slapped side of his face was noticeably redder than the other. He just set his beer on the bar and headed in the direction of the rest rooms. “Kyle, wait…” I called to his back.

“Is he giving you trouble, miss?” the bartender asked, looking at me and then in Kyle’s direction. “You want me to call someone…?” he asked with concern on his face.

“What? No. He’s my brother. It’s okay. I was just leaving.” I shouted to him over the music and noise before walking out of the bar and heading home.

It was at this point that I should’ve probably called for professional help. That would’ve been the smart thing to do. Yeah. I didn’t do that. I still thought I could “fix” Kyle if I could just figure out what was going on inside his head.

It was almost midnight before I heard keys jingle and a key inserted into the lock. Kyle walked in, looking an angry kind of tired.

“You’re still up.” he mumbled.

I was standing, arms crossed, leaning on one hip, just staring at Kyle.

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother Kyle.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Kyle said dryly.

“I’m not laughing.” I fixed him with a stern gaze.

“Just stop, Sarah. I’m not playing your stupid game.” he said, annoyed and exhausted.

‘Why was he so pissed?’ I wondered. It didn’t make any sense. Come to think of it, why has he been avoiding me this whole time? He used to follow me everywhere. And why would any man, in his right mind, turn down an orgy with four, drop dead gorgeous, nubile, sex faries? That’s right, none.

“Kyle. You know all my faces. Does it look like I’m playing? Seriously, what the fuck is going on with you? That tight piece of ass at the bar wanted to fuck your brains out, bro. Probably her friends too, and you blew her off… insulted her. And you’ve ignored me since I got here! What the fuck?!”

I started to get that dizzy feeling, like I had just been transported to an alternate universe.

He startled me when he shouted.

“Fine! You wanna know?!” and he quickly marched off to his bedroom. There was some rattling before he stomped back into the living room carrying the nightstand drawer. Angrily staring at me as he did so, he reached in and stood a roll of paper towls upright on the coffee table, then, he pulled out a big bottle of lotion and slammed it next to the paper towels. Finally, he pulled out a small framed picture, probably the only bit of decoration in the entire place, and tossed it on the coffee table.

Kyle just stood there, huffing like he had just run 5 miles. He was still angry but I could also see worry and hurt in his expression. I slowly bent down and picked up the picture.

It was a selfie portrait of me from one of my social media posts. In it I was holding my phone high and looking up into the camera. It was a windy day so my hair was a cute, wind-blown mess and I was between smiling and laughing. It’s one of my best selfies.

I could just imagine Kyle, lying in his bed, his cock covered in lotion as he stared at my face and furiously jerked off to it. I felt my heart break into several pieces. ‘Oh, Kyle.’ I thought.

As I set the picture back down, Kyle yelled at me. “So there’s my big secret! Happy now?! Your virgin brother is a sick, twisted, pathetic, pervert who beats off to a picture of his own sister!”

Wait, did he just say ‘virgin’… at 22?! I felt I had just been stunned by a phaser on maximum setting. That can’t be right. How was that even possible? Kyle’s good looking… I mean, really good looking. He had to have been beating women off with a crowbar to keep from losing his virginity. And how did he resist urges that are usually irresistable for any normal man? Remember what I said about his fuckability? I guess the three jobs, the avoiding me, his behavior at the club, all made sense now. Sort of. It explained the ‘what’ but not the ‘why’.

The thing is, Kyle was always affectionate as a kid but it never came close to anything more than admiration. When had that admiration turned to incest fantasies. Oh, sure, I had used Kyle in a couple of my scenarios while masturbating but who hasn’t occasionaly added a little forbidden spice to their fantasies. It wasn’t an obsession, and definitely not a goal with me. When had it become one for Kyle?

He was yelling at me but all his frustration and hate was directed inwards. My brother hated himself for his uncontrollable love and lust for his sister… his lust… for me. “Come see the pathetic loser who wants to fuck his own sister! What a freak!” As frighteneing and confusing as it all was, I thanked god that Kyle was emotionally exhausted and vulnerable. I doubt we would have had this breakthrough revelation otherwise.

I took a step towards Kyle. As calmly as I could I said “You’re not a freak. I don’t think it’s sick or twisted or any of those other things you’re calling yourself.”

Not that I had to that often, but I always defended Kyle if he was getting bullied. But how do you protect your brother when he’s being bullied by himself? All I knew was he couldn’t keep living like this. He’d be dead before he was 30.

I knew what I had to… no… fuck that! I knew what I suddenly wanted to do… what I yearned to do… what I needed to do. I was going to do whatever it took to rid Kyle of his self-created demon.

“Why would you think you couldn’t ever have me?” Again, a step closer, and calmer.

Kyle looked at me like I was from another planet. “Why? Why?! Cause you’re my sister! God, didn’t they teach you anything at that college of yours?” he said incredulously.

“Yeah. They taught me to never say never.”

Kyle rolled his eyes in frustration.

Kyle can be so annoyingly stubborn sometimes. I guessed I’d just have to keep pushing him closer to that cliff edge. Warning: Incest ahead. Steep drop.

“Kyle, listen to me. You know what I want? I want my old brother back… that happy kid who used to follow me around and worshipped the ground I walked on. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll do anything to get that Kyle back.”

Another step closer. “Anything.” I emphasized.

I was only one step from him. It was up to him now. ‘Come on, Kyle. Make the right choice. The one I know we both want.’ I thought.

“God, Sarah. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” Kyle confessed. It looked like the pain of keeping himself from indulging his desires and unloading his passion on me was tearing him apart.

He looked at the ground, ashamed to finally admit what should have been obvious to me had I not been so wrapped up in my own life. I was feeling guilt for not noticing how I made him feel and for taking Kyle for granted. I angrily pushed the guilt aside. Now was not the time for that. My brother needed me, his big sister, to pull him back into the light.

“Then show me.” I insisted.

“Come on, Kyle. Stop thinking about it. Stop jerking off to a picture of me. I’m right here. I’m standing right in front of you. And I’m telling you, your big sister wants you to fuck her.”

Men sometimes think (no pun intended) that women don’t like sex as much as they do. Not true. Make no mistake… We. Fucking. Love. Cock. Just seeing a man’s pants bulge with an erection is enough to get us going. And we’ll do almost anything to get it, if we really want it. And I REALLY wanted Kyle’s cock, badly.

I folded my arms. “There. I’ve told you what I want. Show me what you want, brother.”

I don’t know how long we stood there, just facing each other… maybe 10 fast, pounding heartbeats.

I was thinking ‘Come on, Kyle. Make a move. I’m not going to do everything for you.’ He was so close, but he needed to take that final step himself. I couldn’t, wouldn’t force myself on him. Kyle needed to confront and let go of his unhealthy and, as I had just told him, unwarranted guilt of wanting to have sex with me… of commiting incest. He needed to surrender to his passion, throw away his fear and shame, and take me. It had come down to one simple fact… before he could have me, he had to free himself. Only then could he reach me.

Of course, this would be a hell of a lot easier if I had those mind tricks from the movies.

And then Kyle was picking me up with those hunky arms of his. I was giggling sinisterly as I wrapped my legs around his waist and used my arms to pull me into his face and kissed the living shit out of his lips. ‘Finally!’ I thought to myself. I could feel a low, rumbling moan coming from Kyle as we explored each others mouths. As we parted for air I wantonly whispered in his ear. “There ya go, baby. I’m all yours now.” and he pressed his mouth to mine again, moaning.

We blew past the incest line like a train surging off a broken bridge. We may be fucked, but we were going to get our money’s worth.

Clothes were flying everywhere and we barely stopped to look at each other’s naked bodies. ‘No time for gawkin’, let’s get to fawkin’.’ my mind sang.

When Kyle stood naked in front of me, I knelt in front of my new god and worshipped his cock. When I grabbed it, I felt my pussy pulse and then the familiar feel of my pussy lubricating itself for the pounding to come.

Looking up at Kyle I said “I can’t wait to wrap myself around this.” as I gave his cock a wiggle.

Then, talking to his cock “You hear that, bitch? I’m gonna smother you ’til you cum-fess.”

I lined my mouth up to his cock before I looked up to Kyle. His eyes were wide with expectation but rolled back in his head as my lips guided him into my mouth. I started swirling my hand up and down his shaft as I bobbed my head on his hard-on-the-inside, soft-on-the-outside cock.

“Ooouuuhhhrrr, god.” he growl-moaned. I hummed a satisfying moan of my own that vibrated through his cock and down to his soul. I was slowly picking up the pace and after a couple of minutes of that I thought, ‘Time to milk the snake.’

Right on cue, as if pleading for mercy Kyle cried “Oh, god, Sarah. Please stop. I’m gonna cum if you… don’t… stop.”

‘Whatever you say, bro.’ I thought to myself. So naturally, I increased the speed of my strokes and hummed even louder through his cock. I wanted to feel Kyle’s brother-sperm fill my mouth and waited for just the right moment. Aaaaand… any… second… NOW! I plunged my hand to the base of his cock and quickly brought it back towards my mouth as I sucked as hard as I could. Kyle lost it.

In a gutteral voice full of primal passion, “Uuh, god, yes!”, he released his warm, silky, slimy cum into my mouth. I felt his cock pulse through my hands as my throat swallowed each burst of Kyle’s seed milk and it was… well, it wasn’t half as bad as I expected. I’d never swallowed before and I kinda liked it. Okay, fine… I loved it. So sue me.

Kyle’s legs were shaking fiercely but he managed to stay on his feet as I sucked the last drops of creamy cum from him before licking his beautiful cock clean. Holy shit… I had just blown my brother! A bit of advise for those of you with brothers, just try it… once. See what happens.

His panting as he was trying to catch his breath was just sooo satisfying and gratifying and a huge relief for both of us. I also felt the power that comes from knowing I was breaking down any remaining barriers in Kyle’s mind; smashing down the locked door that held Kyle’s passion and lust for me.

As I was licking the corners of my mouth and swallowing the last bit of cum, Kyle pulled me up and into a deep, lust-filled kiss, his cum still coating the inside of my mouth. And, no, he didn’t recoil… he just moaned in my mouth as our tongues danced together. I think we did that for about a week until we finally broke our cum flavored kiss and Kyle looked at me and was actually smiling that smile I remember, the smile of that cute little kid who idolized me.

He said “Get on the bed. Lie down. There’s something I’ve been wanting to do to you since I learned about it.”

Kyle’s cock was half-soft but still had it’s girth so he wasn’t quite ready to fuck me yet, but it wouldn’t be long before he was locked, cocked, and ready to rock.

But, in the meantime, he did have something else in mind. Something, I bet, I was going to like… a lot.

He pulled out some kind of massage oil (where the fuck did that come from?) and warned me. “This might be a little cold at first.”

He was right, it was cold but my burning pussy just sighed as he smeared the oil over my already juicy cunt and inner thighs. I just moaned. ‘Yes, slick me up, bro. Do whatever you want, I’m yours.’ I thought. He made sure to throughly over-coat my pussy though, before he nearly killed me by orgasm.

With me watching him, begging him with my eyes, he slowly inserted two fingers into my pussy as far as he could. Then he pressed them to the top of my cunt and pulled them forward while curling them. He had the palm of his other hand pressed to my mound and the unseen path his hidden fingers were taking through my pussy. Like he was gently scratching an itch inside my wet pussy. He found the spot he was looking for when I yelped and shuddered. Yeah, bro… that’s my g-spot. Dig for treasure there.

He repeated the motion a couple of times to make sure he had the location down, my moans were like the beeps of a metal detector, letting him know he was red hot.

He started pressing his palm to my mound again, then, those two Vatican-ordained fingers started moving faster and faster, like an engine piston.

“Aaahhhh, goddamnit!… Fuck!… Oooooo, god, Kyle, don’t stop… Mmmmmm… oh, my god, don’t stop.” I whined.

He took his other hand and, starting just above my mound, pinched the flesh between his fingers as he ran them down past the top of my slit, massaging my clit from the outside. The sensation was unreal as his fingers massaged my well-oiled body and pussy.

He was finger-fucking me so fast and hard that my pussy sounded like a one-cylinder engine, puttering at the limits of it’s RPMs, but I didn’t give a fuck. If anything the sound made me hotter and wetter, as if that was possible. I went from zero to ‘oh my fucking god’ in under 60 seconds. I didn’t think it was possible to cum that fast from a standing start.

I screamed and thrust my hips high in the air as a beautiful arching stream of lady cum shot across the bed. My pussy convulsed and it shook my whole body.

I wouldn’t have cared if I were naked on the 50-yard line of a packed stadium. I wanted everyone to see what my brother was doing to me while I squirmed, squirted and screamed through my orgasmic ecstasy.

As I was spewing my lady cum, Kyle was strumming the fleshy hood over my clit and slap-tapping my pussy until my squirting was a trickle. I rolled to the side and thrust my hands over my pulsing pussy and closed my legs, trying to catch my breath. “Jesus fuck!” I moaned to myself.

Now, normally, I’d start to steadily come down from such a massive orgasm but I changed my mind on the way down and wanted to go back up ‘Make Me Cum’ mountain. I rolled over on my back again, throwing my hands next to my head in a ‘surrender’ pose. I opened my legs again and Kyle immediately stuck his fingers back inside me and began furiously attacking my g-spot again.

The result was immediate and more intense than the first time. I was out of my mind. I tried to beg Kyle to stop but he just kept at it. Now I know how robots feel when they short-circuit. I was convulsing and squirting all over the place and Kyle wouldn’t let up. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and all I could see were the colors of my orgasm.

Mercifully, he removed his hands and with a quick slap to my pussy, watched me turn into a puddle of oozing, quivering goo. Women, I don’t care what you have to do, you find a man that can do that to you and regardless of what he looks like, you put him on retainer or some shit, because, oh my god.

Even coming down from that Everest-sized orgasm was a climb. You know what I’m talking about… that heaving motion you make when your orgasm is punching you in the pussy? Yeah. It was like that.

Also, how is it possible to have two ‘9.0 on the Richter scale’ orgasms and still be this fucking horny? Can anyone explain that to me? My swollen labia, clenching pussy and inner thighs were slick with oil and my own juices and I still wanted more. I was holding my legs wide open waiting for something… anything. Then I looked over at Kyle.

He was just kneeling there with the perfect tool I needed. A rock hard, meaty, made-for-fucking tool.

I grabbed Kyle by the cock, moaning, then threatening him “Oooommm… I swear to fuckin’ god, Kyle, if you don’t fuck me right fuckin’ now I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.” Makes you wonder what was on my mind at that moment, huh?

Sure. I’ll admit it. I’m a whore between the sheets. With me it’s raw… primal… and pure passion. It’s wild and natural and I embrace it. I know it’s not exactly ‘PC’ or on the mission statement for women power, but I don’t care. My body… I’ll use it how I want.

Anywhere else, don’t fuck with me, but in the bedroom, between two consenting adults. Fuck, yeah. Abuse my slutty cunt. I deserve it. I want it. It’s what our bodies were made for. Darwin hasn’t driven the animal from us yet.

I made pleading moans while Kyle’s cock got closer and closer to my desperate pussy. And then he pressed his engorged gift inside me and I growled at the sensation. Kyle made a sound somewhere between a sob and a moan.

“Fuck, Sarah! Oooh, god… Ooohhh, that feels so right!”

“Ooooh, god, yes. Oh, god, don’t stop Kyle… keep going… keep going… all of it… gimme… oh, god, that feels so good.” I begged as Kyle slowly buried himself inside me and held himself there for a moment.

He slowly began pulling back and pressing forward at a wonderful, frustratingly slow rhythm. I pulled my knees up to my tits and spread them out, opening myself up as much as I could, just so I could get another fraction of an inch of Kyle inside me. Kyle slipped his arms under my knees and leaned into me.

Thankfully, Kyle didn’t wait long to quicken his pace to match my own demanding grunts. Faster and faster he went and I followed. The splashing smack as Kyle bottomed out every time was driving me wild, literally. I was so in tune with the sensations my body was experiencing that I could even feel his balls bouncing off my ass as my pussy gripped his cock at every thrust. In my head I was chanting ‘I was made for your cock, Kyle, I was made for your cock.’ Like I said, I don’t hold my body back from what it wants.

It was here that I said a silent little prayer. ‘If you’re listening, God, I’ll never ask for anything ever again, I promise… just let Kyle blast my insides with his cum. Just let my brother nut me into oblivian. Please, don’t leave me hanging, God.’

“In or out?” Kyle grunted as he steadily pounded my open pussy, building to his cum-spewing orgasm.

“Ooooh, god. Mmmmm… I dunno… but if you pull out… oh, god… I’m never speaking to you again.”

“Ooooh god… oh, god… come on… that’s it baby… I want to feel it… gimme your cum, Kyle… cum inside me.” I purred to my brother, encouraging his cock to fulfill it’s promise to give my pussy what it thirsted for. Kyle was fucking me furiously and, in turn, I was on the edge of cumming again. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and ferociously demanded “Cum in your sister’s cunt, Kyle!” That did it.

We were looking into each other’s eyes when he grunted “Sarah.” and sunk his cock to the hilt. Half a second later, my eyes got wide when I felt his cum blast the deepest part of my cunt. With my mouth wide open, I stopped breathing for a few seconds and then exhaled and took in a huge breath that quickly turned to hyperventilating. He just held his cock there, pulsing, sending a near continuous stream of his hot incestous sperm into me, filling me to overflowing. “Ohh, ohh, ohh.” I kept panting as my pussy clenched to the beat of Kyle’s flexing cock. Our eyes never blinked. We were so connected at that moment. Yeah, ha ha. I get it. What I mean is we both knew we were never going back to being a generic brand brother and sister. Ever. … God, I love incest.

We eventually came in for a landing and collapsed. And that’s a whole other thing, feeling Kyle’s 185 lbs. pinning me to the bed. I was trapped under this sweating, panting, heavy chunk of chisled muscle and I not only felt owned but loved. I know, me talking about love, especially after we had just mated like animals. Say what you will but that’s what started this whole fucking thing in the first place. My absolute love for my brother, Kyle. Sure, he can be an idiot, like any man… waiting that long to have his cherry plucked… but I wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world, which is saying something because there’s a lot of stuff I like in the world.

Kyle rolled off of me and I sat up on one elbow and pulled my pussy up to feel a nice little stream of cum oozing out of my cunt. There was cum and pussy juices everywhere. “Ooooh, nice job, Kyle. You throughly fucked me good, baby brother.” I said before I flopped back on the bed, slowly catching my breath from the pussy pounding Kyle just gave me. “God, that’s easily the best sex I’ve ever had.” I said to Kyle as he pressed his body to mine and gave me the warmest post-fucking kiss I’ve ever had.

We just stared into each other’s eyes for about a minute, maybe. I don’t know. Time works differently when you’ve had your brains fucked out. But what he and I both knew for certain… we were just getting started.

And then it dawned on me. “Holy shit, Kyle. You’re not a virgin anymore.”

“Thanks, genius. I got that.” he sighed into my tit.

I was stroking his hair and just got this wave of love crashing over me. I had gotten my old Kyle back and, in the process, so much more. I don’t know if I would have been ready or willing to fuck my brother when I was younger. Maybe this was the only way we could’ve gotten to here. I decided to leave my ‘thought puzzles’ for another time and just enjoy the moment and the feeling of utter satisfaction.

But I did feel I needed to apologize for all those years Kyle wasted waiting for his big sister to see him; acknowledge him again. “Aww, Kyle. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I wished you hadn’t waited… but I’m glad that you did.”

Talking into my tit, he happily mumbled. “Totally worth it.”

‘Agreed, baby brother. It totally was.’ I thought to myself.

Kyle moved behind me and little spooned me. “So, what now?” he asked.

I had already come up with a plan. A great plan. A simple plan. “You’re gonna live with me. I can’t have my boyfriend living like this.”

“Boyfriend. Really.” he said with a little skepticism. “Won’t people… talk?”

“Fuck ‘em. Let ‘em.” I said. “Look, no one’s gonna know we’re fucking unless we do it in front of them. A lot of people won’t even know we’re brother and sister. They can be as suss as they want… they can’t prove or do anything about it. Until proven guilty, isn’t that what they say? Besides, most probably won’t even care. As long as we don’t post it to social media, we can fuck each other’s brains out all we want. Everything else we can figure out along the way.”

Kyle hugged me with his big strong arms and whispered “How did you get to be so smart?”

“Same way you got to be so stubborn. God, Kyle. I didn’t think you were ever gonna fuck me.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Kyle sighed.

“Glad we were both wrong.” I said as I kissed him.

So, that’s how I got my brother back, through the magic of incest.

And this is where I began my story.

BTW, in case you’re wondering, I think Mom knew almost immediately, but she never said a word. It kind of makes me wonder if she saw this day coming long ago because she always smiled when she saw us together after that, even though we were acting less like siblings and more like lovers in front of her. Come to think of it, she was the one who suggested I crash at Kyle’s place after I told her I was planning on staying in a hotel. Ultimately, I think she was just relieved to have that happy little kid she knew back.

The End

 

My apologies. I'm still trying to get a handle on the structure of this site and I'm unfamiliar with forums in general. I'll be more careful and do better in the future. Thanks.

 

If I have a story I'd like to share, should I post it on the forums, on sexstories, or both? Not sure what's kosher!

 

Good to be here, I posted previously under somebastard69. Has been a few years since I posted, have some stories to post on the sexstories site but seems I need 6 forum comments first. I usually never post on the forum. Keep up the good work, all.

 

A snippet of the last story I've been working on - it was inspired by an advice column letter I saw recently!

Jackie shut the bedroom door behind her and dropped the laundry basket abruptly, her hands flying to her mouth in shock, a load of her husband's clean underwear tumbling to the floor around her feet.

She couldn't believe what she just saw as she was walking down the hall, yet she was sure she saw it clear as day - her teenage stepson Brett was in his bedroom totally jacking his dick to a family vacation photo of her in a bikini on the beach!

 

Photoreal Porn Art Slack group, seeking reviewers and story suggestions. It's a closed slack group with limited seats. The goal is a tight community focusing on Photo Real digitally produced graphic art and novels. We need people willing to give critical feedback on artwork and story goals to help make them better. Participants can also submit their own stories for consideration for photoreal renders and possibly a full graphic novel. I don't charge for any of this but also won't accept users posting spam or NFT material. It's pretty laid back, shoot the shit and let us know if the images get you off and if not how we can fix them. PM for slack invite. Thanks for reading.

 

Ugh. I've only recently started writing erotic stories so I'm still on the steeper part of the learning curve (I'm a graphic artist by trade). I'm currently working on a story that I personally like, a lot, but I'm hesitant to post it because I'm afraid it won't get super-positive ratings. Have any of you chased, or worried about positive ratings? I'll eventually post my story... just wondering how you deal with doubts (if you have any). On the upside, out of the few comments left on my stories, I have received far fewer troll comments than I expected. Thx.

 

New member post#3