Hardest Choice Ch. 01

The Johnson's weren't quite your typical American family, but there was nothing really out of the ordinary about them. Amy, the mother, had one twenty-seven year old daughter from her first marriage to a European man whose genes had dominated Laële, and he had given her an old Celtic or Gaelic name. From her second marriage, she had twins first, Tasha and Tara. Your average twenty year olds, there wasn't anything different about them setting them aside from any group of twenty year old girls other except that they were identical and did everything together. Then there was nineteen year old Brad, Amy's only son, her favorite if she ever admitted having one. Finally the baby, eighteen year old Stella, a real wild child.

Brad was a lone boy in a full household of women, because all but Laële still lived at home. It's all he was used to, since his father had died when he was four. His mom did very well but had never married a third time. Meanwhile, Brad was alright living with four women, visited by a fifth frequently. It made him more understanding of the female sex, and therefore more attractive to girls at school. Although he'd had a few chances, he was a virgin. The girls who'd offered it to him were sluts, and while he wasn't asking for a chaste supermodel to lose it to, he at least wanted someone who hadn't been with the entire football and basketball teams.

He himself was a swimmer. He had a pretty big dick, even flaccid, which garnered him some stares from the high school girls' team. He was getting his stuff together for an off season summer vacation practice when Laële showed up.

His decade older half sister looked great. She could've been used in movies as a Celtic princess, with long thick red hair and snappy sparkling green eyes. She had full, dark lips and the palest skin of the family. It wasn't a bad pale, very ivory looking, a porcelain complexion. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheek, and delicate, fine features, with gorgeous cheekbones. In a low cut tank top and short shorts, she could stop traffic. She was tall and slender, with long legs and a tiny waist, and smallish breasts, a 32B.

Brad couldn't help but gape a little on his way out the door.

"Hi, Brad," Laële said in her low, quiet voice which she never raised, even in anger or grief. "Where are you off to?"

"Swim practice. I'm walking, and I don't want to be late, so I've gotta leave now," he replied, beginning to leave in just a pair of sport shorts, boxers, and his bag slung over his shoulder.

"I'll take you," she offered. He accepted gratefully. Her car had a nice air conditioner and it was blistering outside. She ran inside gracefully, long legs beautiful in use, to say hello and tell their mom what was happening.

He was already in the car, starting up the a.c., when she got back.

"Where to?" she asked.

"The high school." They drove in silence with only the radio making noise. As he got out and thanked her, she asked what time practice would be over, if he wanted a ride home. He told her and she drove off.

At practice all the guys were asking about his gorgeous chick, but all he had to say was "She's my sister," and they stopped asking about Brad and started asking for a phone number. He laughed at them but privately agreed. That was a fine woman. He felt a little uncomfortable thinking such thoughts, but it wasn't like anything would happen. They were just thoughts, not anything really bad. So he thought about her all during practice. His mind's eye traveled up and down her body, and he wondered what she looked like naked.

Practice ended and he quickly deck changed back into his boxers and sport shorts. He ran out to her car and hopped in. God, her body was so much better in person than any good imagination. He tried to think of other things, but it was too late. He was hard and the sport shorts did nothing to hide it. But she was apparently focusing on the road. At least, he didn't think she noticed.

"Hey, Brad?" Laële said in her low quiet voice; he had never before realized how sexy and smoky it sounded, like a good jazz chanteuse. He was lost for a second, imagining moans of ecstasy emerging from those luscious lips. Then he snapped back to reality.

"Yeah?"

"You won't mind if I have a stop I need to make, will you?"

"Of course not," he replied.

"Thanks," she said, and began driving in a direction that puzzled him. She pulled into a remote, deserted part of the huge local park. Quizzically, he asked her what she needed to stop for here. For an answer, she turned the car off, unbuckled her seat belt, and turned to face him.

"Look at me, Brad," she said, her voice still quiet yet now also commanding. He couldn't help but do what she told him, although he wasn't sure at all what she was doing. With her brilliant sparkling eyes still locked onto his, her hands came up, and she slowly pulled her skimpy revealing tank top off, and he broke the eye contact to glance down quickly. Oh shit! She had nice firm boobs, held in by a strapless black bra. They were a little small, but pert and young looking. His gaze moved to her stomach, and oh, she was hot. He'd always known she was very slim and tall, enough so for modeling if she'd wanted to, but she was also incredibly toned.

He sucked in a sharp breath. My God, she was hot, but she was his half sister. He'd felt uncomfortable just thinking about her, how could he really do anything? Feeling a bit of a pervert, he averted his eyes and stared at the trees outside the passenger window. He sat in the silence, zoning out with thoughts racing through his mind for only a few seconds. Then she took his hand, and he flinched, but she didn't let go. He frantically wondered what she was doing until his hand touched her skin. She put his hand flat on her tummy, then moved it up. She slid his hand under the band of her bra and placed it full on her breast. When his hand felt her hard nipple, he quickly jerked his head to look at her, in surprise. She looked at him steadily as she reached behind herself to unclasp the bra. It fell away, and again he gave a small gasp.

She sat beside him, facing him, wearing only short shorts and one of his hands over one of her breasts. She had a cute smattering of freckles which only served to turn him on further. He was at full erection, seven inches, throbbing. In shock, he couldn't move his hand, wasn't quite sure what she wanted or what he should do.

Laële pressed his hand firmly to her naked breast, and since he would not move, she began rubbing up and down, her tit against his hand. Then she pulled his other hand to her other nipple. She rubbed up against them both, then made his hands squeeze her tight, and then she forced his unresponsive fingers to pinch her nipples gently. He sat there in his tented sport shorts, staring.

She let his hands fall, then unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts. She wriggled out of them, pulling her black panties with them. Now he was really staring. She clambered over to his side of the car and sat in his lap facing him. His eyes now knew not what to take in. His gaze flickered from her eyes, to her breasts that he'd just felt, to her neatly trimmed cunt. Oh, the soft short hairs there were covering up such a prize.

The sight of her totally naked snapped him out of his shock, and it made him lose all his reservations. So what if she was his half sister? They wanted each other, right now.

He pulled her in for a kiss, and their tongues entwined as her boobs pressed into his chest, her nipples so hard against him. As she gently squirmed in his lap, various parts of her crotch rubbed against his dick. The kiss ended, but she kept wriggling in his lap as he went back to her breasts. He saw the little wet spots her cunt left on his shorts and decided to excite her more. He put his mouth around her boob, and she let out a low, long moan. He began making out with her nipple. He tried various things, but he noticed when he flicked with his tongue, she jumped.

He pulled his dick out of his shorts, finally releasing his massive hard on. Laële continued her squirming, lubricating his dick with her arousal. Her slit rubbed against his big thick cock in a maddening way; he felt he was going insane with lust. He flicked again with his tongue. She jumped, stroking his erection with her cunt. That was it; he could take no more teasing.

Brad took Laële by the ass and placed her atop his dick. He thrust upwards slowly, entering her gently. But she was no virgin, needed no gentleness, and sat down upon his dick. He was totally enveloped in the hottest, softest, wettest, tightest feeling he could ever have imagined. They both moaned. Laële sat for a second, letting him totally take in the feeling. When he seemed to be used to it, she ground into him, moving in little circles with her hips. He gripped her sexy sides, holding on for dear life as her grinding cunt pleasured him.

Then she began really fucking him. He moaned "Yes! Yessss," as she bounced atop him. Her perky little breasts jiggled a bit in front of him. She got a little bit faster, harder, with each bounce.

She was breathing hard, moaning in that low quiet husky voice. Then, going incredibly fast and hard, feeling his cock throb inside her she knew he'd cum soon. So she let go. With a very un-Laële-like scream, her body convulsed in his lap. For the first time, he witnessed a female orgasm from the inside. Oh fuck! It felt like she was squeezing him rhythmically with her cunt. At first, she gripped him, tight and firm, for about eight seconds. Then she released and immediately held him again, for a bit shorter time. After about the third time she did this, he let out an unexpected grunt and thrust his hips hard, then shot a hot load into her. They calmed down, Brad still inside Laële. After a few minutes, she pulled up off of him, put on her clothes, a little trickle of his cum escaping her hole, and she drove him home.

They sat in silence, again, Laële looking just as she had when she picked him up, calm but not unfriendly. Brad knew he must look a little shaken. He'd just fucked his gorgeous half sister. He tried to decide whether it was right or wrong but everything led back to what he'd experienced. Her breasts, her waist, her stomach, her cunt, her legs . . . he felt himself begin to harden again, being a horny teenage boy, and tried to force himself to think of her as only his half sister.

She pulled up in front of his house, said only, "Tell your mom I can't come in, I have stuff to do. Bye." He nodded and said, "Thanks."

When he walked in, his mom raised her eyebrow.

"Little late, aren't you?"

"Uh . . . oh, right. Laële had to make a stop on the way home. Oh, and she said sorry she couldn't stay to visit but had more stuff to do." Brad wondered what his mom suspected, if anything.

"Oh, ok," she said.

********

That night Brad dreamed of pale freckled breasts, of long tossing red hair, of stunning green eyes, of long bare legs, of a tight not soft wet clenching cunt, of husky moans of ecstasy. The next morning, a Saturday, he woke up with a huge erection. He masturbated to thoughts of Laële, came, washed his hands, and went to breakfast, wearing just a pair of black boxers.

The house was quiet. His baby sister . . . but no, she wasn't a baby anymore. She was eighteen, Stella was now. She sat at the table eating cereal and flipping through a glossy rock magazine, the indie type.

"Good morning, Brad!" Stella was a bit wild; ok, she was quite a bit wild, but she didn't have an attitude like a lot of the wild kids at school. She liked black, but didn't dress in the baggy style Goths did. Today she was wearing a black crop top, showing a purple dangle in her belly button, and tight black Dickies. Her blonde hair, with its purple streaks, was in a pixie cut, framing her face in a way that made her look fresh and young yet mature at the same time.

Brad couldn't help but compare her to Laële. Stella was shorter and not quite as slender, with bigger breasts. They appeared to be around 34C, nice for a girl her age. But he shouldn't have been thinking about his own sister like that. He forced his thoughts to breakfast.

"What, no 'good morning' back?" Stella pouted teasingly.

"Oh . . . sorry. I must not have heard you. Morning, Stella," replied Brad, trying to cover up his faux pas.

"That's better!" She continued eating, flipping through her magazine, and chatting to him. He tried to pay attention, but the crop top was alluring. His gaze flickered to her chest and her belly dangler a few times. Still talking, she took her bowl and spoon to the dishwasher and bent over to load it. Brad was surprised that he'd never noticed it before: his little sister had a magnificent ass. The two cheeks were generous but not unattractively fat. They looked firm but nice to feel. Also, there was no panty line, and these pants were extremely tight. Brad deduced that Stella was wearing either a thong or no underwear at all. Both possibilities were really sexy. But shit! She was his full sister, and no way could she be interested. He made himself look away.

She sat back at the table, leafing through her magazine again, drinking a glass of orange juice. When she glanced up at him, noticed he was staring at her, made eye contact, and smiled warmly, Brad realized something else: Stella had incredible eyes. They were a gorgeous gray, sometimes green-gray like fine marble, sometimes blue-gray like a stormy sea, sometimes a soft gray like velvet.

As Brad stared, Stella reached the end of her magazine. She finished off the orange juice and stuck the glass in the dishwasher. He mentally fondled her displayed ass when she bent over, and began to feel the beginning of a hard on. Good thing he was at a table, safely hidden from her beautiful eyes.

Stella looked straight at him and said, "Big brother, we haven't been spending much time together lately. What do you say we go into my room and have a good talk?" He hesitated, not wanting to pay any more attention to his baby sister. "Come on," she pleaded, "like we did when we were little and the twins left us out of everything."

"Uh . . . I'll just go pull some jeans on," he said, then waited a second, hoping she'd leave first so he wouldn't have to show himself.

"No need! We'll huddle together under the sheet like we used to," she said, and took him by the hand. "Now come on."

"She led him to her room, which he hadn't been into in a while. Her name meant "star" and, appropriately, her bedroom was decorated so. Constellations were scattered on an inky black and swirled purple background. Some quiet but intense instrumental rock music was playing. Books on astrology filled the shelves, and several black lights completed the mystic mood in Stella's private lair.

She jumped into her black satin sheets and patted the spot next to her invitingly. With barely a beat of hesitation, he hopped in her bed. She giggled like a schoolgirl and snuggled in. He looked around her room, seeing things he hadn't seen before. There were pictures taped to her mirror, pictures of Stella with some girlfriends from school, whom Brad knew, and also pictures of Stella with boys, whom Brad also knew, although she didn't have and had never had a steady boyfriend. Seeing her with other boys raised a protective feeling from Brad, and, surprisingly to him, a strong wave of jealous. Oh, he wanted her, and here she was, not a foot away, and in a bed, too!

Then his eye caught something else. Holy shit! It was a dildo! He stared in shock. Soon his shock became a pleasant surprise. An image of his baby sister using a dildo on herself popped into his mind. Just as he began really getting into the fantasy, though, Stella's eyes followed his gaze, and she laughed.

"Oh, that? Well, I haven't met the right guy to lose it to, so in the meantime, that's my Mr. Right," she said with a wry smile. "I don't think it's quite as big as a real man, though." Brad knew for sure that at the present time, he was bigger than the blue thing that had been inside his little sister.

"Oh . . ." he stammered. "Well, uh . . . I'm glad you haven't thrown away your virginity, like some girls at school."

"Yeah," she agreed. "But people never talk about boys 'throwing away their virginity.' How sexist. Big brother, can I ask you, you don't have to answer: are you a virgin?"

Brad looked at her and decided to tell her the truth – just not all of it.

"No," he answered, straightforwardly. "I have had sex with one girl, one time."

"Ooooh, tell me! Was she a virgin, who was she? Did you use protection?"

All of a sudden Brad remembered that they hadn't been protected. If he impregnated his own half sister . . .

"Don't worry," Stella said cheerfully, noticing his stricken look. "If she didn't make you wear a condom, she's definitely on the Pill."

He relaxed, and Stella began teasing him, trying to persuade him to tell her who his lover had been. Of course he would not, and they started play wrestling like they'd done when they were little. Somehow, Brad had no clue how, Stella ended up on top of him, pressed against him. He looked into her big gray eyes and knew she had to feel his erection.

"Big brother, what's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"Sex."

"I don't know about girls, but for me . . . it's great. Amazing."

"But physically? What does it feel like?"

"Stella, I really have no idea how it feels for girls."

"I know!" She rolled off him and grabbed her dildo. Brad's dick throbbed. "You show me how it's done, only using this."

Wishing with all his might that he could show her what it was like firsthand, he agreed. She clambered onto the bed, awaiting her lesson.

"Well, when we did it, I was sitting down, and she was in my lap, facing me." Stella nodded, and then acted as if she was in the same position, dildo in front of her crotch like some guy's hard on.

"Right. Then she took off her clothes . . ." Here Brad paused, hoping for her to take the hint. She got up, threw off her crop top, and oh, she had sexy breasts, just the right size. She shimmied out of her tight pants, and indeed, she was wearing a thong. Oh! His hips gave a tiny involuntary twitch. But . . .

"What's that?" he asked, pointing. She came closer. It was a little tattoo, a cute star in purple with a black outline, located just above her ultra low rise panty band, near her left hip bone. While he was examining her tattoo, complimenting it, she pulled off her thong. Brad let out all his breath at once.

She stood before him, bare, beautiful. He looked her over slowly, top to bottom. His gaze traveled from her unique eyes, to her ample breasts, to her sexy belly dangler, to her smooth, totally professionally waxed cunt.

"Turn around," he breathed. She did so, and her ass was perfect. The cheeks were creamy, smooth, and tanned. Her butt was in shape, but not overly muscular, with enough junk in the trunk to make him long to touch it. After a few long moments of staring, he cleared his throat.

"Uh . . . perfect. That's just how she was." Stella went back to sitting against her dildo. "Then she, uh . . . she sat on me. You know?"

"Like this?" She raised her body up, weight on her knees, positioned her gorgeous cunt above the dildo, and slowly lowered herself onto it.

"Exactly." She grinned at his approval. "Then she bounced up and down on me, but since you're a virgin, you might not want to do that too strenuously." She nodded.

"Actually, big brother, I prefer this position." And she lay down, spread her legs in front of him with the dildo still inserted, and slowly began to fuck herself with her dildo in front of his face. He couldn't help it; he moaned.

"See," said Stella, "the reason why I like this is because I can use my other hand to play with my clitty." She did just that, spreading the lips without a trace of hair, pulling up the little hood of skin, exposing her most sensitive spot. As soon as she touched herself, she let out a loud squeal.