MY STEPSISISTER’S WEDDING EVE
My stepsister and I were raised in a very strict, very traditional family. Neither of us were ever allowed to date; indeed, we were always chaperoned at any event where members of the opposite sex were present. I was eleven when our parents married, and she was a year older than I. Though we had not known each other before, we soon became each other’s best friends! Though there was some friendly competition, we always had each other’s backs and were inseparable.
So imagine our surprise when our parents announced that they had selected a husband for my stepsister! She had only met her future husband once, and the time flew past in a whirlwind as her wedding approached. Soon it was to be the next day; our house was full of guests and preparations for the occasion and I barely saw her as hairdressers, seamstresses and florists took her every moment.
After dinner that night, as she left, she whispered to me, “Can you come to my room tonight?” I nodded yes, wanting to have a final conversation with my beloved stepsister before she became another man’s wife.
I tapped on her door quietly, wondering if she were still awake. In an instant Cecelia’s door was open. “Were you seen?” she whispered. Her eyes were wide and bright. She wore a diaphanous sleeping gown, ethereal in the faint light of her night lamp.
”No, no one.”
Her hair was down. The promise of her body beckoned, barely hidden beneath her thin shift. Her breasts, the swell of her belly, the hint of darkness between her thighs - she pulled me to her. Soft curves pressed against me, thrilling. We held each other close, body to body, both of us trembling, staring into each other’s eyes, each of us uncertain and yet both of us determined. I felt such a lust for her!
This girl whom I had grown up beside, whom I had seen blossom into a woman, who had been my stepsister and my best friend - I felt such an unholy desire for! Her body pressed tighter to mine. I wanted to kiss her, to devour her- a temptation we had never before yielded to. I did not know what I wanted to do with her, I wanted all of her. I wanted to steal her from her husband to be, I wanted to force her close to me, I wanted to drag her body up against mine. I wanted to rip her shift from her body.
But I hesitated. The enormity of being alone with her. Alone in the silence of her bedroom. Alone and without anyone to rein us back made me hesitate. It would be wrong.n
”We—“ I broke off. “We should not…”
She searched my face, anxious. “You don’t want me?”
I touched my finger to her lips. “Don’t say that.”
I pulled her closer to me, savoring the press of her body close to mine, the ache in my loins, the feel of her hips under my hands. My hands of their own accord slipping around to grip her ass and pull her close… I wanted her so very badly. But it could not be.
”We can’t,” I said. And yet my hands still lingered upon her. “You are my stepsister. I am your stepbrother. I have a duty to you.” I forced myself to lift my hands from her hips to her waist, but was reluctant to release her. Still I held her, I drew her to me, drew her head to my chest. Her unbound hair was like silk beneath my hand.
Cecelia let out a small sigh. She clutched me and then I felt her laugh, a small laugh of defeat, a surrender to our predicament. She drew away, then further still, out of reach, leaving me with an emptiness. She went and sat upon her bed, sighed again. Gave me a wry smile. “Come,” she said, patted the bed. “Sit with me.”
I hesitated. She laughed with sad exasperation. “Am I so frightening to you? I know that it - that WE- can’t do this. Just sit with me. Sit with your stepsister for one last time.” She patted the bed again. I went and sat beside her, aware now not of our closeness but the distance between us. Cecelia reached over and clasped my hand. Intertwined her fingers with mine.
“He is a decent man,” I reassured her. I think you will be happy as his wife.” She gave a little laugh and looked away. Her gown rustled about her body; a fine silk so sheer I could see the dark points of her nipples under the fabric, pressing against it. I looked away, fighting my desire. For a while we sat in silence, holding hands, our fingers entwined. Soon the house would come awake, summoning her marriage day.
“I must go.”
”Not yet. I must show you something. Close your eyes and turn away.”
I did, and heard clothes rustling, the sound of silk and satin. “I’m ready now. You may look.”
I turned, and my heart tightened. Cecelia glimmered with pearls and diamonds in a gown of elegant white. The skirts fell in layers, accenting her hips and tiny waist, the bodice emphasizing the swell of her breasts. Around her throat was a white silk lace, adorned with pearls and diamonds. “Do you like it?”;she whispered.
I swallowed, unable to speak. Nodded. “You are…. so beautiful!”
She took a step toward me. “ Do you really want me to go to him?” She had pulled back her hair. The plunge of the gown showed the hollow of her throat, the cleft of her breasts. It hugged her waist. Accented the flare of her hips. She looked like a queen. She took a step closer.
”Do you really want me to lie with him? To go to his bed?” Another step closer.
”He will be a good husband…”
She touched her finger to my lips. “It’s not him who I want.”
”Stepsister —“
”Stepbrother ,” she whispered. Her lips were close, upturned, questing. Inviting. The power of her gown was like a drug on me, it fired my senses even more than her sleeping shift had. The softness of fabric, the sight of her, as a woman, prepared for another man. I had tried to resist my urges, but now I was more aware of her than ever, of the silence of only our breathing in her bedroom.
She reached up to stroke my cheek. I closed my eyes, to avoid her gaze, but I could not help but lean into her touch, could not help but place my hand around her waist, to draw her closer, to feel her quickening breath. To know her beneath the beadwork and gems and jewelry, to know her, to feel her breath. Cecelia. Her lips found mine.
How to describe this first kiss of love? That trembling terror and joy of another who desires you? One kiss became two, two became many. Became frenzied, frantic with desire. Kissing lips and cheeks and eyebrows and throats. We sought to devour each other. She was whispering to my ear and our embrace was no longer that of stepsister and stepbrother.
“Please,” she whispered in my ear. “ Don’t make me go to him… not without knowing you…”
I could feel my heart pounding. Could hear the blood in my ears. My hands were trembling, shaking as if I had been shocked, but it was desire, a desire so wild it threatened to overwhelm me. I could not hold her enough. I could not draw her closer enough.
Cecelia’s eyes were wide and yearning, her breath hot and fast, and it was if suddenly a dam had burst. We fell upon each other, full of hunger, full of bestial needs. I fumbled with her dress, pulling at it, yanking at the embroidered hoops, her helping me, both of us panting and desperate. Our mouths found each other’s again. Kissing. Her lips soft. Her breath sweet. Her tongue flicking to taste mine, something so intimate, the touch of tongues, the first time a part of my body was inside hers. Tasting, kissing, biting, suckling. I could not get enough of her. I was kissing her lips, her neck, kissing down her throat…
Her bodice opened. She clutched me to her, pushing my head lower, pressing my lips to her revealed breasts. Those perfect mounds, crowned with dark tips, that I had often imagined underneath her garments but never until now seen in their perfection. So soft yet firm and warm to my touch, trembling with her desire and anticipation. I found her hardened nipples, surrounded by goosebumps, sucked at them, heard her gasp. She pulled me tight to her breasts, urging me to suck and tease, to lick and bite, to consume her… and then she was dragging me up to meet her eyes once more and there was only mirrored desire and urgency.
Our hands tore at each other’s clothes. I found her laces, fumbling with them, pulling at them, drawing them out, dragging her dress open even as she was fumbling with my belt and tugging down my zipper, stripping my pants from me in her eagerness. Then our clothes were on the floor and we were naked, gasping, our skins alive and touching. Her hand gripped my penis and I was hard, shaking with pleasure as her fingers caressed it, sending shock waves of sensations through my groin. She knelt before me. She looked up once, wicked eyed, and then she was upon me, licking, sucking, swallowing me, cock and soul, fondling my swollen balls. I was transported to heaven!
Just feeling her hand upon my shaft, her mouth soft and wet and hot around me, her tongue lashing my length. She was mewling, needy, almost desperate upon me as she suckled, moaning with her lust, and then she was up again, her lips slick with her spit and my own essence, and we were kissing again!
We fell together onto her bed. I pushed apart her thighs and dove between them, hungry, starved, desperate to taste her as she had tasted me, to know her, to find her essence. I was as an animal, as a beast, for we were not man and woman anymore, but beasts rutting to our demonic creatures, lusting for pleasures.
I licked, I tasted, I plunged my tongue deep into her. I loved her scent, the slick feel of her cunt on my tongue. I feasted upon her wetness. Her fingers tangled in my hair, urging me on, and then she pulled my mouth hard against her sex, moaning. The folds of her vulva opened like a flower, her petals moist and fragrant, and I was like a bee, desperate for her nectar. I found her woman’s nub, that hard clitoris of her pleasure, and caressed it with my tongue. Kissed it, licked it. Suckled it. Worshipped it as she moaned and pulled me tight to her. Her thighs closed around me. There was only her. There was only this moment. I slipped my finger into her, first one gently probing, then she whispered, “ More - god, MORE!” Pressed into her wet slickness, felt the ridges of her vagina pulsing, throbbing. Her thighs opened. She arched—- “OH!” she cried.
Her hips rose to take more, greedy and gasping, taking my fingers, riding against them as her belly spasmed, and then I was atop her and she was guiding my erection between her thighs. Both of us panting, both of us desperate. My cock was harder than iron, it felt like a weapon, a sword seeking to bury itself in her sheath. The feel of her flesh, so hot and moist and slick around my cock was dizzying, as if I were drunk. We were drunk with each other, and the feelings and sensations and pleasure that were spreading from our loins. Her eyes were upon me, wide and needy, as she pulled me inside her, guiding me to the secret tunnel nestled between her folds. Her hands clasped my ass as I slid into her, inch by inch. I felt myself engulfed in her woman’s opening. “ Ah. Yes. Oh, yes.” she murmured, pulling me deeper.
I felt a resistance. Her maidenhead - her hymen, I knew. I hesitated, because I had heard stories that a woman’s first time was different from a man’s like mine, I did not want to cause her pain…
With a groan she pulled me into her, suddenly gasped, and then there was suddenly no resistance, and I was deep inside her and we were both staring at each other, wide-eyed with wonder. We were joined, completely joined. One organism with two heads and four legs. I stopped breathing, looking at her. She was so beautiful in that moment!
” Slowly,” she whispered. “Slowly…”
It was all I could do to restrain myself.,already I felt the power of my semen building within my balls, but I did not want this feeling, this moment to ever end. I fought not to loose my seed. I held myself still, our bodies slick with sweat and close. She drew me down to her to kiss me, and I nibbled her lips and then her erect nipples. I fought to hold still within her cunt, and then her hands strayed down my flanks, cupped my ass and she pulled me closer, deeper.
“I’m about to…”
”Shh. Slowly.”My crisis passed. We clutched together, moving in rhythm, our bodies twined and urgent, doing the dance of love. Now it was too late to stop; we had done the deed, we were one, joined at the groin, we were love and lust, we were separate yet one, we were doing the unthinkable on the eve of her wedding; she would wear virginal white but have her stepbrother’s seed within her. We became a creature of pleasure, a single greedy desperate beast seeking our rutting pleasure. I began thrusting harder, deeper, faster. I lost control of myself, I was too full of the need to eject my essence. I felt her fingers at our joining, playing with her clitoral nub, driving herself to greater pleasure as I drove into her. My wave was cresting.
” Cecilia, Cecelia, I can’t stop…”
”Yes! Now. NOW!”
I felt her sheath clench around me. It was too much for me to hold back my flood. I thrust into her with a desperate grunt and cried out as she pulled me even deeper. My body shook and jerked with my release as my sperm-filled semen exploded from my bursting testicles and ejaculated deep into her womb. My pleasure came in waves with each spurt, Her vagina, the essence of her womanhood, milked me with her own contractions and she arched with her own orgasm, her face flushed bright red as her heart raced.
Our pleasure went on and on, slowly ebbing as our breathing slowed and our hearts calmed. Our bodies were stuck together with our sweat, and we remained joined at our sex. My erection finally subsided, and as I reluctantly withdrew I gazed in wonder at the milky pink flood that oozed from her vagina, soaking her bed with her blood and my semen.
“Cecelia I—l”
”Hush.” She kissed me gently. “I love you.”
”I think I have always loved you.”
”Such a boy, still.” But she was still smiling when she said it. She touched her pussy carefully, gently probing with her fingers.
”Are you…?” I couldn’t help being concerned. “Did I hurt you? Was it painful?”
”Not so much. It was worth it.” She showed me her fingers, covered in my cum. “And look - you are a real bull!”
My penis was covered in her secretions, my cum and pink spots of her virginity. “Could I have— could you get pregnant…?” I wondered.
Cecelia, my beloved stepsister shyly smiled. “I hope so…”
So imagine our surprise when our parents announced that they had selected a husband for my stepsister! She had only met her future husband once, and the time flew past in a whirlwind as her wedding approached. Soon it was to be the next day; our house was full of guests and preparations for the occasion and I barely saw her as hairdressers, seamstresses and florists took her every moment.
After dinner that night, as she left, she whispered to me, “Can you come to my room tonight?” I nodded yes, wanting to have a final conversation with my beloved stepsister before she became another man’s wife.
I tapped on her door quietly, wondering if she were still awake. In an instant Cecelia’s door was open. “Were you seen?” she whispered. Her eyes were wide and bright. She wore a diaphanous sleeping gown, ethereal in the faint light of her night lamp.
”No, no one.”
Her hair was down. The promise of her body beckoned, barely hidden beneath her thin shift. Her breasts, the swell of her belly, the hint of darkness between her thighs - she pulled me to her. Soft curves pressed against me, thrilling. We held each other close, body to body, both of us trembling, staring into each other’s eyes, each of us uncertain and yet both of us determined. I felt such a lust for her!
This girl whom I had grown up beside, whom I had seen blossom into a woman, who had been my stepsister and my best friend - I felt such an unholy desire for! Her body pressed tighter to mine. I wanted to kiss her, to devour her- a temptation we had never before yielded to. I did not know what I wanted to do with her, I wanted all of her. I wanted to steal her from her husband to be, I wanted to force her close to me, I wanted to drag her body up against mine. I wanted to rip her shift from her body.
But I hesitated. The enormity of being alone with her. Alone in the silence of her bedroom. Alone and without anyone to rein us back made me hesitate. It would be wrong.n
”We—“ I broke off. “We should not…”
She searched my face, anxious. “You don’t want me?”
I touched my finger to her lips. “Don’t say that.”
I pulled her closer to me, savoring the press of her body close to mine, the ache in my loins, the feel of her hips under my hands. My hands of their own accord slipping around to grip her ass and pull her close… I wanted her so very badly. But it could not be.
”We can’t,” I said. And yet my hands still lingered upon her. “You are my stepsister. I am your stepbrother. I have a duty to you.” I forced myself to lift my hands from her hips to her waist, but was reluctant to release her. Still I held her, I drew her to me, drew her head to my chest. Her unbound hair was like silk beneath my hand.
Cecelia let out a small sigh. She clutched me and then I felt her laugh, a small laugh of defeat, a surrender to our predicament. She drew away, then further still, out of reach, leaving me with an emptiness. She went and sat upon her bed, sighed again. Gave me a wry smile. “Come,” she said, patted the bed. “Sit with me.”
I hesitated. She laughed with sad exasperation. “Am I so frightening to you? I know that it - that WE- can’t do this. Just sit with me. Sit with your stepsister for one last time.” She patted the bed again. I went and sat beside her, aware now not of our closeness but the distance between us. Cecelia reached over and clasped my hand. Intertwined her fingers with mine.
“He is a decent man,” I reassured her. I think you will be happy as his wife.” She gave a little laugh and looked away. Her gown rustled about her body; a fine silk so sheer I could see the dark points of her nipples under the fabric, pressing against it. I looked away, fighting my desire. For a while we sat in silence, holding hands, our fingers entwined. Soon the house would come awake, summoning her marriage day.
“I must go.”
”Not yet. I must show you something. Close your eyes and turn away.”
I did, and heard clothes rustling, the sound of silk and satin. “I’m ready now. You may look.”
I turned, and my heart tightened. Cecelia glimmered with pearls and diamonds in a gown of elegant white. The skirts fell in layers, accenting her hips and tiny waist, the bodice emphasizing the swell of her breasts. Around her throat was a white silk lace, adorned with pearls and diamonds. “Do you like it?”;she whispered.
I swallowed, unable to speak. Nodded. “You are…. so beautiful!”
She took a step toward me. “ Do you really want me to go to him?” She had pulled back her hair. The plunge of the gown showed the hollow of her throat, the cleft of her breasts. It hugged her waist. Accented the flare of her hips. She looked like a queen. She took a step closer.
”Do you really want me to lie with him? To go to his bed?” Another step closer.
”He will be a good husband…”
She touched her finger to my lips. “It’s not him who I want.”
”Stepsister —“
”Stepbrother ,” she whispered. Her lips were close, upturned, questing. Inviting. The power of her gown was like a drug on me, it fired my senses even more than her sleeping shift had. The softness of fabric, the sight of her, as a woman, prepared for another man. I had tried to resist my urges, but now I was more aware of her than ever, of the silence of only our breathing in her bedroom.
She reached up to stroke my cheek. I closed my eyes, to avoid her gaze, but I could not help but lean into her touch, could not help but place my hand around her waist, to draw her closer, to feel her quickening breath. To know her beneath the beadwork and gems and jewelry, to know her, to feel her breath. Cecelia. Her lips found mine.
How to describe this first kiss of love? That trembling terror and joy of another who desires you? One kiss became two, two became many. Became frenzied, frantic with desire. Kissing lips and cheeks and eyebrows and throats. We sought to devour each other. She was whispering to my ear and our embrace was no longer that of stepsister and stepbrother.
“Please,” she whispered in my ear. “ Don’t make me go to him… not without knowing you…”
I could feel my heart pounding. Could hear the blood in my ears. My hands were trembling, shaking as if I had been shocked, but it was desire, a desire so wild it threatened to overwhelm me. I could not hold her enough. I could not draw her closer enough.
Cecelia’s eyes were wide and yearning, her breath hot and fast, and it was if suddenly a dam had burst. We fell upon each other, full of hunger, full of bestial needs. I fumbled with her dress, pulling at it, yanking at the embroidered hoops, her helping me, both of us panting and desperate. Our mouths found each other’s again. Kissing. Her lips soft. Her breath sweet. Her tongue flicking to taste mine, something so intimate, the touch of tongues, the first time a part of my body was inside hers. Tasting, kissing, biting, suckling. I could not get enough of her. I was kissing her lips, her neck, kissing down her throat…
Her bodice opened. She clutched me to her, pushing my head lower, pressing my lips to her revealed breasts. Those perfect mounds, crowned with dark tips, that I had often imagined underneath her garments but never until now seen in their perfection. So soft yet firm and warm to my touch, trembling with her desire and anticipation. I found her hardened nipples, surrounded by goosebumps, sucked at them, heard her gasp. She pulled me tight to her breasts, urging me to suck and tease, to lick and bite, to consume her… and then she was dragging me up to meet her eyes once more and there was only mirrored desire and urgency.
Our hands tore at each other’s clothes. I found her laces, fumbling with them, pulling at them, drawing them out, dragging her dress open even as she was fumbling with my belt and tugging down my zipper, stripping my pants from me in her eagerness. Then our clothes were on the floor and we were naked, gasping, our skins alive and touching. Her hand gripped my penis and I was hard, shaking with pleasure as her fingers caressed it, sending shock waves of sensations through my groin. She knelt before me. She looked up once, wicked eyed, and then she was upon me, licking, sucking, swallowing me, cock and soul, fondling my swollen balls. I was transported to heaven!
Just feeling her hand upon my shaft, her mouth soft and wet and hot around me, her tongue lashing my length. She was mewling, needy, almost desperate upon me as she suckled, moaning with her lust, and then she was up again, her lips slick with her spit and my own essence, and we were kissing again!
We fell together onto her bed. I pushed apart her thighs and dove between them, hungry, starved, desperate to taste her as she had tasted me, to know her, to find her essence. I was as an animal, as a beast, for we were not man and woman anymore, but beasts rutting to our demonic creatures, lusting for pleasures.
I licked, I tasted, I plunged my tongue deep into her. I loved her scent, the slick feel of her cunt on my tongue. I feasted upon her wetness. Her fingers tangled in my hair, urging me on, and then she pulled my mouth hard against her sex, moaning. The folds of her vulva opened like a flower, her petals moist and fragrant, and I was like a bee, desperate for her nectar. I found her woman’s nub, that hard clitoris of her pleasure, and caressed it with my tongue. Kissed it, licked it. Suckled it. Worshipped it as she moaned and pulled me tight to her. Her thighs closed around me. There was only her. There was only this moment. I slipped my finger into her, first one gently probing, then she whispered, “ More - god, MORE!” Pressed into her wet slickness, felt the ridges of her vagina pulsing, throbbing. Her thighs opened. She arched—- “OH!” she cried.
Her hips rose to take more, greedy and gasping, taking my fingers, riding against them as her belly spasmed, and then I was atop her and she was guiding my erection between her thighs. Both of us panting, both of us desperate. My cock was harder than iron, it felt like a weapon, a sword seeking to bury itself in her sheath. The feel of her flesh, so hot and moist and slick around my cock was dizzying, as if I were drunk. We were drunk with each other, and the feelings and sensations and pleasure that were spreading from our loins. Her eyes were upon me, wide and needy, as she pulled me inside her, guiding me to the secret tunnel nestled between her folds. Her hands clasped my ass as I slid into her, inch by inch. I felt myself engulfed in her woman’s opening. “ Ah. Yes. Oh, yes.” she murmured, pulling me deeper.
I felt a resistance. Her maidenhead - her hymen, I knew. I hesitated, because I had heard stories that a woman’s first time was different from a man’s like mine, I did not want to cause her pain…
With a groan she pulled me into her, suddenly gasped, and then there was suddenly no resistance, and I was deep inside her and we were both staring at each other, wide-eyed with wonder. We were joined, completely joined. One organism with two heads and four legs. I stopped breathing, looking at her. She was so beautiful in that moment!
” Slowly,” she whispered. “Slowly…”
It was all I could do to restrain myself.,already I felt the power of my semen building within my balls, but I did not want this feeling, this moment to ever end. I fought not to loose my seed. I held myself still, our bodies slick with sweat and close. She drew me down to her to kiss me, and I nibbled her lips and then her erect nipples. I fought to hold still within her cunt, and then her hands strayed down my flanks, cupped my ass and she pulled me closer, deeper.
“I’m about to…”
”Shh. Slowly.”My crisis passed. We clutched together, moving in rhythm, our bodies twined and urgent, doing the dance of love. Now it was too late to stop; we had done the deed, we were one, joined at the groin, we were love and lust, we were separate yet one, we were doing the unthinkable on the eve of her wedding; she would wear virginal white but have her stepbrother’s seed within her. We became a creature of pleasure, a single greedy desperate beast seeking our rutting pleasure. I began thrusting harder, deeper, faster. I lost control of myself, I was too full of the need to eject my essence. I felt her fingers at our joining, playing with her clitoral nub, driving herself to greater pleasure as I drove into her. My wave was cresting.
” Cecilia, Cecelia, I can’t stop…”
”Yes! Now. NOW!”
I felt her sheath clench around me. It was too much for me to hold back my flood. I thrust into her with a desperate grunt and cried out as she pulled me even deeper. My body shook and jerked with my release as my sperm-filled semen exploded from my bursting testicles and ejaculated deep into her womb. My pleasure came in waves with each spurt, Her vagina, the essence of her womanhood, milked me with her own contractions and she arched with her own orgasm, her face flushed bright red as her heart raced.
Our pleasure went on and on, slowly ebbing as our breathing slowed and our hearts calmed. Our bodies were stuck together with our sweat, and we remained joined at our sex. My erection finally subsided, and as I reluctantly withdrew I gazed in wonder at the milky pink flood that oozed from her vagina, soaking her bed with her blood and my semen.
“Cecelia I—l”
”Hush.” She kissed me gently. “I love you.”
”I think I have always loved you.”
”Such a boy, still.” But she was still smiling when she said it. She touched her pussy carefully, gently probing with her fingers.
”Are you…?” I couldn’t help being concerned. “Did I hurt you? Was it painful?”
”Not so much. It was worth it.” She showed me her fingers, covered in my cum. “And look - you are a real bull!”
My penis was covered in her secretions, my cum and pink spots of her virginity. “Could I have— could you get pregnant…?” I wondered.
Cecelia, my beloved stepsister shyly smiled. “I hope so…”
1 month ago