Morphology

There was nothing sexual about it, either explicit nor implied. My sister and I just exchanged a hug. I felt her hands on my back, and my hands felt her bra through the back of her t-shirt. Boobs to boobs, tummies to tummies, thighs to thighs. A 100% non-sexual affectionate hug. 

And then, suddenly, it wasn’t. 

What had changed? Not the intensity of the hug, nor the pressure from our hands and arms. No pressing against one another. No trying to press mound to mound. Physically, not a mote of difference to two seconds earlier and yet….. 

Breathing, then?  Nope…no change there either. Still the same, neither deeper, nor accelerating. Heart rate then? Again, no. Alison and I are physically very fit and with that comes a slower resting heart rate. And there it was….thumping steadily along, slow as ever. 

So what, if you’ll for give the expression, the fuck? What made this change absolute and undeniable? I have only one answer. Desire. Simultaneous desire. We both, to use a crude term, ‘wanted it’. 

It’s been suggested that human beings, especially in very close proximity share some element of telepathy. Oh, it’s not so refined as to hear one another’s thoughts, but base feeling? They’re a different story. I felt myself wetting up and I knew, absolutely knew without doubt that so was Alison. 

And then the light brush of our lips together. We have always kissed goodbye like this. A brief touch of lips to lips. But this was repeated….repeated and the touch become longer and mutated into an open mouthed kiss. Our tongues gently joined the party and we were soon kissing like lovers. Lovers who also happened to be sisters. 

Now, here’s a ‘girl thing’. Girls don’t always need to ‘go all the way.’ We don’t even ‘need’ to orgasm…not in the same way guys do, anyway. Alison and I are capable of kissing in this way and then just….stopping. But not this time. Hands moved, and boobs were cupped. Nipples were pinched and that same hand travelled down and into one another’s panties. 

From the outside, we must have looked like two experimental teenagers fondling one another. There was an innocence to it, but an innocence born of total ease with one another….and total love too. Fingers found wetness and clits. Fingers found holes. Cupping one another’s sex, we maintained our deeply passionate kissing while we fingered and masturbated one another, revelling in the slipperiness of it, and the deeply intimate vaginal caresses as our internal muscles squeezed and relaxed. 

Sometimes, we talk while we do this, and sometimes, that talk can be extremely loving or extremely dirty. It doesn’t matter. This time, Alison whispered “Your my sister.” It was like an electric shock. Sister. Family. Incest. I whispered back “We shouldn’t…..we should stop.” Alison’s vagina gripped my fingers. “No…please no!” Even her whisper sounded young…innocent….like we had started a game that had suddenly turned serious. “Let’s be lesbian sisters.” 

As soon as she said this, my entire being felt like I was 13 all over again. 13. I’d just realised how strongly attracted to girls I was, and I’d just started to find and smell panties in the locker room. My nightly masturbation was filled with images of boobs and pubes, and imagined fingerings. Alison lay her head on my shoulder and whispered “Make me cum, sis.” I knew, knew without a single doubt, that I’d cum with her. My fingers stiffened inside her and the heel of my hand pressed against her clit. Alison bent her knees…..ever so slightly…barely perceptibly, if the truth be told. There was an innocence about the move, like the first time a girl opens her legs. I felt that exquisite moment of ‘openness’ as her vagina seemed to open around my fingers, hold there for a second, then a wild convulsing as her cervix danced across my fingertips. Her fingers in me got the same treatment. I felt her squirt into my palm, and she felt me reciprocate. We both had girl cum running down our legs, for we both squirt heavily when we fool around with one another. 

Just as an innocent hug had morphed into something sexual, so now it morphed back. We held each other, our fingers still deep inside one another for…oh, I don’t know how long….it could have been minutes or hours, and it really doesn’t matter, we slipped out of each others’ sex and resumed that innocent hug from which we started. 

Back home, my right hand smelled of my sister and I knew that hers would smell of me. I knew, as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow, that neither of us would wash our hands. 

In bed later that night, Emily drew my right hand around her and brought it to her face. She inhaled. “Mmm….someone’s been fingering her sister.” One by one, she kissed my fingers clean before lapping at my palm.  And I knew, again with absolute certainty, that The Lovely Chris would be doing the exact same thing with Alison’s right hand. Neither from Emily, nor The Lovely Chris, would there be the slightest more of jealousy….only love for one another.