Sister, a Friend, a Lover, and Wife

This is an Earth Day contest story. Please vote.

For the sake of health insurance, brother marries his sexy sister, after she loses her memory in a fall.

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I love my big sister, Susan, I really do, but not in the way that a brother should love his sister. When I think back, as far as I can remember, just as I've always been in love with my sister, I've always peeped on her dressing and undressing. With her being three years older than me, a lifetime, when a young adult, I was afraid to let my true feelings be known for fear that my Mom would take me to a shrink to have my head examined and maybe she should have back then. My sexual attraction to my sister started during the time that I was peeping on my mother and, instead of subsiding, as I developed from a young adult to a man, my physical attraction to my sister has matured and grown into the real love that a man feels for a woman, when he falls in love and wants to marry.

"Only, I can't marry my sister, can I?"

My incestuous attraction to my mother, Molly, wasn't nearly as strong as my twisted feelings of love that I have for my sister, Susan, but, after reflecting back on watching my mother undressing, if only for comparison sake, seeing my mother naked was exciting, too. Yet, whenever given a choice, more than incest but love, if they were both in their rooms changing in their bathing suits, I'd rather watch my sister strip naked than watch my mother. Even though I knew it was wrong to invade their privacy, I felt as if I were a big game hunter hiding in a clothes closet, instead of in a blind to bag his prey. Waiting for them to enter their room and for the exact moment when they'd stripped off their clothes, while already in place, was always so exciting.

"Oh, my God! My Mom is removing her dress and is standing there in her bra and panty."

Strangely enough, though, as if my Mom knew I was hiding in her closet watching her undress, perhaps her way of enabling me, she'd always turn around to face me, whenever she reached around behind her back to unhook her bra. Standing so silently still, I'd hold my breath waiting for her to remove her...

"Good God, she just removed her bra. Nearly close enough that I could reach out and touch them, my Mom's breasts, her areolas, and her nipples are right there before my horny eyes."

I'd stare at my mother's tits, while touching myself through my pajama bottoms. Then, when she removed her panties and showed me her big, blonde bush, is when I removed my cock from my underwear and masturbated in a handful of tissue. She stood in front of her mirror naked, while brushing her blonde hair, and through her louvered closet door, I had a clear view of the front and the back of her with the aid of her mirrored reflection. Only, content in just watching my mother undress, I never lusted over my Mom in the way that I lust over my sister.

Content to just masturbate over my Mom undressing, while watching her parade around her room naked, I never wanted to have sex with my mother in the way that I always wished I could have sex with my sister. Just as I've masturbated over my mother, I can't count how many times I've masturbated over my sister. The stealth skill set I learned spying on my Mom, I later used to spy on my sister. I always wondered, had my Dad not worked the graveyard shift, had my Dad been home more to monitor my immorally abnormal behavior, being that I still incestuously lust over my sister, if I would have grown up to be the pervert that I am today.

Having watched my mother dress and undress for years, I was 23-years-old and she was a matronly 55-year-old woman, when she and my Dad were killed in a car accident. Now five years later, it's just my big sister and I living together in the same house we grew up in. I don't know why, but I always suspected my mother knew I was there watching her and, never looking my way, where I stood hidden in her closet, she never opened her closet door to retrieve an article of clothing or to put one away. Her clothes were always already on the bed in preparation of changing.

"Weird."

I thought, as I got older, dated women, and had sex that I'd outgrow spying on my sister undressing, but I didn't. All paling in comparison to her, none of the women I dated measured up to my sexy sister. Embarrassed to admit, but if given a choice of watching my sister undress or some woman I picked up in a bar undress, I'd rather watch my sister strip naked. Too enamored, an understatement, with her naked body, whenever she was stripping off their clothes, I imagined Susan undressing for me.

So, being that this is an Earth Day contest story, what does incestuous peeping on my sister have to do with Earth Day? Well, since my sister earned her Ph. D in Earth Sciences three years ago from the University of Alaska, she's been an invited speaker at the Earth Day Symposium each year in St. Louis. It was because of her Earth Day project, funded from the grants she receives and that spotlights her research, that she enlisted me to help her with her field work in gathering all the information that she needs to give her talks to government officials and other experts in the field and her lectures to students. It's because of our working so closely together that my incestuous attraction to my sister grew, before finally coming to a head. Every day rain or shine, we'd head out to a different part of the rainforest to conduct her experiments. With her 24/7, except for not sleeping with her in the same bed, I only wished I did, nonetheless, I felt as if I was more her husband than her brother.

She's a scientist, a geologist actually, studying the effects that global warming has on the biggest rainforest in the world, the Alaskan rainforest, namely, the Tongass National Rainforest. Armed with a rifle and a handgun, I was her tag along photographer and protector, being that we were in bear country, should there'd be something or someone out there waiting to harm her. Yet, having stalked my sister for years, with an inherent built-in radar and eyes behind my head, I was more sensitive to the two legged predators than I was to the four legged ones. In comparison, if left alone and not threatened, unless they're hurt or protecting their cubs, a grizzly bear is less dangerous than a man intent on sexually assaulting a woman, especially in the wild wilderness of Alaska. In some parts of Alaska, especially where we were, the ratio of men to women was ten to one. Suffice to say that there were lots of horny, desperate, and dangerous men, who wouldn't take no for an answer, should the opportunity present itself to have sex with a vulnerable woman alone in the wild.

Even though I've watched my sister strip naked dozens of times, while hiding in her closet, each time I watch her strip naked is as exciting, as if it was the first time. Just as I know that it's wrong to peep on her undressing, I know that it's wrong to lust over my sister, but I'm unable to control myself from watching her strip. I don't know why I'm so sexually attracted to her, but I am. More than any other woman, wishing that I could touch her and feel her but unable to take that next step, for fear she'd reject me, she arouses me in a way that makes me want to touch myself, while just thinking of her undressing.

Having to be satisfied with just watching her undress, while masturbating, I can't get enough of ogling her naked body, while she gives me a nightly, naughty, striptease show. The anal geologist that she is, even when at home, she acts as if she's out in the field performing her conservationism work on the soil and her environmental testing on the water, in the way that she does, when writing about the flora and observing the fauna. As if she's meticulously recording every minute detail of herself undressing in her little scientific notebook, it amazes me how she undresses in the same exact way every night.

"Check it twice. Then, check it again," she mumbles to herself, while squatting down to record her research information in her scientific journal with her little, blue pencil that looks as if she had taken it from Big Bubba's Blue Balls Bowling and Billiards. Unlike others who only celebrate Earth Day one day a year, with every day Earth Day to my sister, as if she's a human mother nature, she's in tune with the planet. I've never seen a woman as excited over nature and all things natural, as when she's on all fours on the forest floor looking for clues as evidence to support her theories of the destructive damages to the environment caused by global warming, and how better to help with and improve conservationism. "Okay, you can photograph it now, Tommy. I'm done," she says to me, while looking up with a preoccupied look, sometimes looking right through me, as if I'm not even there.

Always mindful of the intelligence behind her big, bright, blue eyes, I'm careful not to be caught staring down her open blouse at her low cut bra and abundant cleavage. Enamored by her tits, the exposed roundness of the top of her breasts curve away and disappear down inside her bra with her cleavage, as if the sides of her big breasts are a design feature on an antique Chrysler Imperial. With her head down and her so focused on her work, she's oblivious of me staring at her exposed breasts.

"I love her tits. A real rack, she has beautiful breasts," I say to myself, as if my daily mantra in preparation of peering down her blouse.

I'd do anything to touch her breasts, feel them, caress them, and suck them. As if she's my model and I'm her photographer on a photo shoot, I watch her through my camera lens, while daydreaming about feeling her big tits. Then, as soon as she looks up at me, I slightly turn the camera away from her to focus on the image she wanted me to capture. If only she knew how enamored I am with her, I wonder her reaction. If only she knew how much I want to have sex with her, I wonder if she feels the same way about me, too. Yet, what stops me from acting upon my sexual impulses is because she's my sister. Because we're blood related, bad enough that I'm lusting over her, it's one thing to look but it's quite another thing to touch.

The dedicated and focused researcher that she is, so absorbed in her work, no doubt, thinking of me as just her baby brother, shadowing her, she's unmindful of my sexual presence much of the time. Unaware that her blouse is always so open and that her bra clad breasts are always so exposed, she doesn't know that I'm studying her in the way that she analyzes everything else in nature. Even when she's not there undressing in front of me, having watched her remove her clothes so many times before, I'm now able to visualize her slowly stripping off her clothes again, whenever I want. When alone in my room and thinking about her undressing, as if she's standing right there stripping for me, I masturbate over all that I remember seeing of her.

Only, while watching her undress, with the distant look that she has in her eyes, I wonder what she's thinking. So involved in her work, and with no man in her life, except for me, doesn't she ever get horny? More importantly, does she think of me, when she does? When she mindlessly lifts her head to the ceiling, while unbuttoning her blouse, is she imagining slowly stripping off her clothes for me? In the way that I'm so fixated with her shapely body, in the way that I study her, as if watching a flower blossom and bloom in slow motion photography, does she ever think of me in the sexy way that I think of her?

A modern day, albeit female version of Charles Darwin, admittedly, she seems more the naturalist than the woman and more the scientist than the lover. If I described her as a scientist and a geologist with a Ph. D, one may think of her as a wirily thin, grey haired, and plain looking woman, ala Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg wearing a long black robe and thick eyeglasses, instead of a long, white lab coat and fashion flattering lenses. Only, they'd be wrong. With the educated brain, careful thought, and articulated speech of Miss Hathaway, as if she were a Wellesley woman educated in art instead of science, she possesses the unparalleled beauty and the curvaceous, big breasted body of Ellie May Clampett of the Beverly Hillbillies. Oxymoronic in every way, even after having known her all my life, Susan is as true an enigma, as she is a mystery to me. Honestly, other than her being so smart, beautiful, and sexy, fully aware that my lust for her is outrageously incestuous, I don't understand why I'm so attracted to my sexy sister, an understatement, but I am.

So precise and organized in her detailed observation and documentation of nature, when alone in her room with a hand down her panty and a finger rubbing her bean, while her other hand fondles her breast and fingers her nipples, does she think of me in the way that I think of her, while I'm in my room stroking my cock? Does she think of our times we shared together talking and laughing during our long, insightful walks through the forest, while discussing environmental conservationism? Or does she more think of collecting soil samples, testing water, and cataloging her specimens of insect, flower, and fauna? When making notes in her notebook, in readiness of her talk at the Earth Day Symposium about conservationism and in the continuation of her research of the ever changing environment, is she as distracted in her diligent geological research, as I am in my photographic research, as her research assistant?

Instead of just thinking about rocks and organisms, doesn't she ever think about simpler things, womanly things, such as sex and orgasms, as I always think of manly things, such as her being naked and having sex with her? Whenever I'm with her, I think of her naked, just as whenever I'm not with her, I think of her naked. Christ, unable to control my incestuous lust for her, so horny for my sister, I'm always thinking of her naked. Even when she's dressed, having seen her naked so many times, I see her as if she's standing before me naked. When most men would be satisfied seeing my sister's tits, ass, and pussy, I wish I could feel my sister's tits, ass, and pussy. Unable to remove the naked image of her from my mind, I constantly think of my sister's tits, ass, and pussy.

Alone in the woods with her and with not a soul around, sexually frustrated, I always feel guilty for being more focused on her, my beautiful eighth wonder of the world, than on the beauty of nature. It'd be funny, if she was just as horny, when with me, as I always am, when with her. It'd be my fantasy, if she thought more about having sex with me than about her research but, watching her work and realizing her dedication, I know she doesn't. The consummate professional, especially, when she's off exploring rocks, collecting soil samples, and testing water, so focused on her work, most times, she's oblivious to anyone around her, including me. It's a good thing that I'm there with her to protect her from bears and the more dangerously devious, two legged predators, who hide in the forest hoping to stumble across an oblivious female victim to sexually assault.

Even after having seen her naked so very many times before, wanting, hoping, and excited to see her naked again, I'm still aroused by the mere sexy sight of her low cut bra from the down blouse views that she routinely and unconsciously gives me. With her partially unbuttoned blouse, whenever she stoops over a rock, bends over a plant, or leans into an insect, I stand poised in preparation to ogle her, while watching her through the camera lens to capture whatever it is she wants me to photograph. Doesn't she know she's giving me a down blouse view of her bra, the long line of her cleavage, and the roundness of her breasts? Doesn't she care that I can see so much of her bra clad breasts? Wanting to, but so afraid to reach out and touch her, feel her, is she just oblivious or is she teasing me?

When alone in her room at night, while touching herself, is she just as excited knowing she showed me all that I've seen of her hot body, as I am having seen all that she's shown me of her hot body, while I masturbate? Knowing her as I do, no doubt, she doesn't know that I've seen so much of her body, as I have. Knowing her as I do, she'd be shocked, if I told her that I've seen her naked dozens of times, while hiding in her closet. Only, not sexually satisfied just seeing her naked body, I wish I could feel and make love to her naked body.

I wish I could explore and photograph her naked body in the exacting scientific way that she explores and has me photograph the natural occurrences of nature. Having seen the sight a hundred times before, it never fails to excite me to see a flash of her white bikini panty up an open leg of her short, shorts or her ass crack and the top of her panty band, when she squats down to collect a soil sample or analyze mysterious chemicals illegally dumped in the water. Unable to stop myself from looking, always, I peer up at her to see what I can see of her, whenever I give her a ten finger boost up for her to climb a rock face to test the composition and age of a rock formation. When she's climbing, with her legs spread as wide open, as I imagined them to be, while between her legs licking her pussy or on top of her and making love to her, I imagine confessing that I love her.

"I love you, Susan," I say to her, just to hear her say that she loves me, too, while wishing that I was her boyfriend and lover, instead of just her perverted brother.

"I love you, too, Tommy," she repeats mindlessly and so matter-of-factly, without ever lifting her head, while still digging in the dirt.

In the way that she tells me that she loves me, without emotion and so preoccupied in her work, she may as well as have said, "ditto." Still, imagining her meaning in a different way, the sound of those words, "I love you, Tommy," echoes endlessly in my mind and gives more fodder to my masturbation session. When I recall that she said she loves me, I pretend she said that not as a sister saying that to her brother but as a girlfriend saying that to her lover.

"If only she was my lover," I think to myself constantly, especially when I see something of her that I'm not supposed to see, such as a flash of her bra and/or panty.

If only she knew how much I loved her, wanted her, and lusted over her, I wonder if she'd want me, too? Then, when I reach up for her to help her climb down from the rocks, I'm always so tempted to accidentally on purpose cop a cheap feel of her round, firm ass or to grab a double handful of her firm, C cup breasts. Rather, being that we're related by blood, bad enough that I peep on her and ogle her naked body, to contemplate any other unnatural sibling relationship, especially a sexual one, other than a platonic and symbiotic one, would be wrong. Needing to be content just to grasp her around the waist and lift her 120 pound frame in the way of a dancing partner lifting his prima ballerina, I still wish for more. While holding her so close, with the sweet scent of peaches, I can smell her body wash, as I lower her to the ground. Wishing she was mine, I get more of a sense what it would feel like to hug and kiss her, even when innocently holding her.

When carefully walking in close step behind her, close enough to have the fragrance of her essence constantly in my nostrils, we take care to leave a smaller footprint, so as to trample less of the uninhabited forest floor. Yet, every time she bends at the waist in front of me, I'm tempted to accidentally bump into her ass on purpose and hump her hips doggie style, while reaching around her to cup her big tits in my palms. As if it's an erotic and surreal dream happening in slow motion, mesmerized by the mere sight of it, I watch a bead of her sweat appear and collect at the base of her golden hair and slowly slide down her swanlike neck. Tempted to lean to her, flick out my tongue, as if a frog grabbing a fly, and lick off her sweat, while fantasizing that I was licking her pussy, instead of her neck, I imagine my tongue slowly descending down to lick all of her perfect body. Suddenly, transported back in time, I'm Mickey Rourke armed with a tray of ice cubes to cool Susan's hot body, instead of Kim Basinger's hot body in the movie, Nine 1/2 Weeks. Wishing I could recreate that scene with my sexy sister, I'd give anything to cool her hot, naked body with ice, before reheating her with my tongue.