Taboo Ben

So she sent some pics of her tits to a few anons, who cares? You'll be the one groping them that night.

So she sent a video of her rubbing her needy clit to a stranger on the Internet. So what? It's you who's going to be tasting that clit when she's lust drunk and greedily climbing into your bed.

So she's using the safety of anonymity of the web to indulge her kinkiest fantasies, big deal. She'll learn what she likes and bring it to you to share.

They took it in stride, playfully teasing me but not freaking out about it. Mom and dad both made cringy comments about how the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but overall it was just light, harmless teasing. I'm fortunate, I know they could have really gotten upset about the whole snafu.

Of course, once I had realized what I'd done, I immediately deleted the picture from the chat. Hours later, I got a private message from my sister. She had been working and didn't see the picture, only the fallout. She made some jokes about the whole thing as well, teasing me a bit and getting her jabs in, as a sister should I suppose, but despite her best efforts to appear playful, her attitude seemed annoyed.

It took ages for me to get the truth out of her. I know her well enough to know when she's lying, and she was definitely lying when she said nothing was wrong. Finally, we got together and got to drinking and I managed to get her to open up about what's been upsetting her.

"Everyone got to see your dick pic but me!" she finally erupted.

Got to?

Here's this for as long as it's useful:

Suddenly our daughter barges in. I'm quick to throw the cover over my exposed body and still half-hard cock, but I'm laying on some of the blanket and I'm not as covered as I'd like.

"Sara!" I whisper harshly, not wanting to disturb her mother's shower.

"Why don't you kiss me like you kiss mom?" my daughter asks, unprompted. She doesn't acknowledge or seem to care that I'm naked and barely covered by my comforter. She crosses her arms over her chest and appears genuinely upset.

"What...?" I start, trying to wrap my head around the sudden hostility. I was just swimming in that foggy-headed bliss of a good fuck, and now my daughter has shoved herself into my room and is talking nonsense.

"Do you love me?" She asks, taking a different direction.

"Yes! Yes of course I do, but now's not the time..."

She interrupts me again, "Then you should be kissing me like you kiss mom. You love Mom. I watched you kiss her different from how you kiss me."

"... You watched us??" I'm shocked and completely off kilter. What the fuck is happening right now?

Then Sara unfolds her arms and opens up her bathrobe. I was so focused on my own exposure and impropriety, I didn't even register what she was wearing. Her robe falls open and I'm staring at the bare naked body of my little princess. I'm too shocked to react, and she capitalizes on my surprise by jumping onto me and kissing me deeply.

It's a clumsy kiss, no experience behind her attempt, but her tongue is in my mouth before I can react. My daughter watched me fuck her mother and now she's trying to reenact it with me. My cock is sticky with my wife's and my own cum, and now it's pinned beneath the weight of my naked daughter's exposed thighs.

I should shove her off. I should scream at her. I should throw her out of my room and get dressed and make her understand how horrible and disgusting and wrong this all is.

But her weight on top of me is intoxicating. The strawberry flavor of her toothpaste is filling my mouth. The desperate, awkward thrusts of her tongue awaken something deep within me. Instead of shoving her away, I find I'm kissing her back. My large hands slide up to her waist and take hold of her, sliding her robe up and exposing more of her tender flesh to the cool night air. Her skin is so smooth and soft. I'm lost in the sudden insanity of the moment.

And then I hear the squeak of the shower handle as my wife turns off the water.

Our obsession lately has been Castlevania. We watched every episode together, deep diving into our favorite parts; the bloody action, the heavy themes, the warmth and hope and love. We both fell in love with the main characters, Trevor and Sypha. Naturally, we had to make ourselves some cosplays.

We took ages to assemble them. We found different fabrics, we dyed and sewed and layered and tapered, we helped each other to carefully craft our best works yet. When they were ready, we hit the road.

We went into the con nervous but excited. It's always a bit vulnerable to show off your creation, especially one you have to wear. You end up being judged as much as the costume, but right away the feedback was incredible. Tons of people complimented us, and several stopped us to take pictures, asking us to pose as the characters.

I think people assumed we were a couple rather than siblings. The characters we were portraying are lovers, after all. It didn't bother me, it's not real, they're just anime characters so we didn't bother correcting anyone. Let them assume we're in love like Trevor and Sypha, I think it adds to other people's enjoyment.

And enjoy they did. Pictures, compliments, gifted trinkets, people were gushing about how great our costumes were. It was intoxicating, all the positive attention had us feeling confident and proud.

There was a cosplay contest and multiple people urged us to join. How could we say no? We were riding the high of their encouragement and fanfare as we signed ourselves up. We thought about introducing ourselves as siblings, but we thought people would enjoy it more if they could let their imaginations color their assumptions.

We were announced and took to the stage to cheers. We posed, kicking and flinging our arms like we were battling flying demons. Our costumes flowed and fluttered with the movement, adding a dramatic flair to our presentation. The crowd ate it up, cheering us on like we were the actual characters.

Someone in the crowd shouted at us to kiss. Everyone enjoys a good love story, and everyone at the con specifically enjoyed the love story of Sypha and Trevor. The shout turned into a chant that caught like wildfire, spreading across the auditorium until a chorus of voices insisted on a convincing display of our character's affection.

They didn't know we were siblings. That's why they demanded the display. We could have said something, could have waved our arms and shouted sheepishly that we're brother and sister, and the crowd would have backed off. But that wouldn't have satisfied. We spent the last few hours mingling with fellow nerds and fans, and had received so much love and acceptance and joy that it felt wrong to back off now.

We were swept up by their cheers. Overwhelmed by their love. I hardly formed a second thought before grabbing my sister and pulling her close for a passionate kiss. I shouldn't have kissed her like that, and she should have pulled away. But she didn't. She grabbed my face and pulled me tighter to her. In that moment, we weren't brother and sister, weren't Ben and Sam, we were Trevor and Sypha, vampire hunters and star crossed lovers.

The crowd erupted in response, and I felt my sister smile against my lips. But the kiss continued. The volume of the crowd didn't change, yet they faded into the background. They were the reason I moved to kiss my Sypha, but once I had, Sam was my reason for staying. My lips stayed on hers, on my sisters, and I realized how badly I've wanted this. Years of camaraderie, of being best friends, of sharing the most important aspects of our lives, of being truly seen and accepted and loved for who I am, it all culminated into this moment. This outpouring of love and emotion. This lovers kiss shared by siblings. Our lips parted and I tasted her tongue. I felt the heat of her breath against my lips, the press of her body against mine. I held her head in my hands, I pulled her against me, wanting to never be parted. Wanting to be so close we become one.

Then the announcer awkwardly cleared his throat and broke the spell. Sam and I glanced around, blinking as if emerging from darkness into blinding light and trying to refocus our eyes. The crowd were smiling mischievously at us, but no longer cheering. When had they stopped applauding us? How long was that kiss?

I looked at Sam and smiled sheepishly, then we awkwardly hurried off stage. We were both so embarrassed and confused, we didn't even stay to see if we'd won the costume contest. Numbly, we walked past booths and stands and displays until we exited the con altogether and got to the car. In a dreadful quiet, I drove us to the hotel we were staying at for the convention, and soon we were in our room. No audience. No crowd. No cheering. No eyes. Just us.

We stood there in wretched silence. The air felt thick and heavy. The costume I wore suddenly seemed so silly and embarrassing. Slowly, I made myself look up from the floor into my sisters eyes. "Sam. I... Uh... I'm sorry. I took it too far. I got swept up in everything..."

"That was... A lot." Sam agreed. That stung. I don't know what I expected, but hearing her all but agree that our kiss was a terrible mistake felt like a stake to the heart.

"Sorry" I said again, lamely. I've fucked everything up. Sam is my sister, my best friend, my everything. I love her, of course, but today I realized I love her in ways I shouldn't. In ways that I can't. I'm a monster for abusing her trust like this. I'm no better than the beasts Trevor lays low. I deserve no better fate.

Feeling more anguish than a mortal man should be capable of experiencing, I start to unclasp the coat of my costume. I'll take this stupid thing off and go to bed. And tomorrow I'll apologize some more.

"Wait" Sam stops me, taking a few steps closer to close the gap between us. "I think I understand. You saw me as Sypha. You wanted to kiss Sypha. And that's okay! She's strong and smart and beautiful. I get that."

I look into my sisters eyes, utterly confused.

"Don't take off your cosplay" Sam continues. "Stay Trevor. And I can stay Sypha. Just for tonight? Please?"

She's asking me to stay Trevor. She's asking to keep playing the role of my lover. I look into the familiar eyes of my sister and see a longing plea. I've seen lesser versions of that expression. She made similar eyes at me when she asked me to come to prom with her after she broke up with her boyfriend. She made similar eyes at me when she asked me to move in with her to save money. Here, though, it feels deeper. More meaningful. Almost desperate in her need.

"Sam..." I start, but she pushes forward and kisses me. "You can call me Sypha" she says, sounding on the verge of tears, hands on my face and anxiety coloring her expression. "I can be your Sypha. I don't mind. You can kiss Sypha!"

I grab her shoulders and hold her back at arms length. She looks like she's about to cry and I feel my heart shatter.

"I don't want to kiss Sypha." Her face falls and a tear rolls down her cheek. "I want Sam" I say, wiping the tear away.

Her face shoots up, eyes full of tears and hope and overwhelming love. Love that matches my own.

"Me?" She manages.

"I love you, Sam. I always have. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to realize..."

But I can't finish the thought before my sisters lips are on my own again. Our bodies press together, intertwining like roots of two trees that grew entangled and inseparable. All the shared laughs and tears, all the movie night cuddles, all the acceptance and longing and love culminating in this perfect moment.

We collapse onto her bed, raking our cosplays free and exploring each other's bodies with the intensity of lifelong lovers finally getting the chance to love each other.

This is wrong, it's outright reprehensible, and yet nothing has ever felt more right in my life. My sisters lips fit against mine like they were moulded just for me. The sighs and small moans she looses as my hands explore her body echo through my ears like a symphony. Her soft skin, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, it's all so exactly perfect I feel afire with lust and love.

I moan her name when she wraps her fingers around my cock, shuddering in bliss as her hand slides up and down my shaft. She moans back, in kind, when my fingers find her clit and gently massage, making her breath hitch and her body tense with desire. I stare into her eyes, the same eyes I've looked into across the dinner table countless times, as I slide into her.

There's no awkwardness. No fumbling of new lovers exploring each other. Wordlessly, impossibly, we are perfectly in sync. We know exactly how to move and where to touch. As if our coupling had been preordained. As if fate had manifested us into perfect lovers.