Siblingly Binding Ch. 03

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I was sitting in an outdoor coffee shop with a friend, bathing in the gay sun and hoping to catch a nice golden tan. My sister was out of town for the weekend visiting a friend and had left a day earlier. Our illicit relationship had been advancing in an alarming pace to my great dismay. I had been ruminating on how to end things with her romantically, and although it would no doubt prove to be a heartbreaking task, I knew we couldn’t keep this up, and ending it at the earliest stage possible was the right call for me and more so for her.

I was always aware we didn’t stand a chance, yet she genuinely believed we could actually overcome this massive obstacle; ergo, I had no choice but to bring our relationship to its inescapable conclusion before I might have reached a threshold where I would have been unable to tap into whatever that was left out of my feeble spine and depraved morals.

She was very young and somewhat naive, even though she was quite mature and “knew what she wanted” as she had said. I wasn’t about to destroy her life by dragging her into an incestuous relationship with her only brother just because she couldn’t accept that life is often unfair, and happy endings are more likely to be encountered in cinema and literature rather than in the real world.

It was an important lesson for her to learn, and a valuable one to learn as young as possible, so later on in life, her delicate heart would toughen, and hopefully, she wouldn’t be subject to unnecessary heartbreaks that might shatter her completely. As for me, I knew what lay ahead. I had brushed with heartbreaks more than once. Some I could fault myself, some I could not; irrespectively, I prepared myself for the worst as I had never been so in love before, and she was my sister. The higher you go the harder you fall, and I was going to plummet like a flaming meteor.

As my friend and I were chatting over a stiff cup of Joe, I spotted Shannon. She was sitting outside with a girlfriend of hers; however, her back was turned to me, so I was under her radar.

Shannon and I had briefly dated two months ago until she accused me for craving her pussy rather than her heart, which she wasn’t wrong about; still, it bothered me that she hadn’t let me fuck her. I knew how slutty she’d been in her teens, and it felt unfair that while little boys were fucking her brains out during recess, grown men were left to jerk off until she had decided that a socially sufficient time had passed for her to spread her legs wide and to fuck like the cunt her reputation had promised.

As I observed her from a distance, I got the sudden urge to shove my cock deep into her triple gaps, just so I wouldn’t be feeling like a complete loser, the way I felt now. With my erection fiasco, it wouldn’t be easy. Her hating on me wasn’t that helpful, either.

Shannon was the offspring of an African American mother and a father of Irish descent. She had taken after her mother in skin and after her father in appearance. She had pitch-black smooth legs that I had been dying to place my cock in between and thrust it deep into her pinkish pussy. She was pretty and had huge breasts with a little more bulk for my taste in the midriff, though somehow, she managed to pull it off, and I hadn’t known a guy at school that hadn’t masturbated to her massive boobs at least a dozen times. I’d beaten off to her voluptuous body quadruple that number.

My friend dared me to fuck her as soon as I had him aware of her presence, and I was inclined to take him up on the little bet he proposed. A part of that was because I always felt she was to blame for my prick predicament. Had she let me fuck her when I was still managing to generate erections, I might have been able to avoid corrupting my beautiful sister. Upon a brief browse through my phone contacts, I was overjoyed to still have her number and gave my friend a final chance to back down. He didn’t. Why would he? As one of my best friends, he was well acquainted with how passionately Shannon hated me.

I tapped on her name and texted, “Why have thee deserted me, me African Leprechaun?”

After watching her laughing at the text with her friend, I already felt more confident. One should not underestimate the power of a good laugh. It’s a pussy stretcher.

Shannon texted, “Who is it?”

Nicely played. I knew she knew it was me since I heard my name being called from afar.

I texted, “It’s your latest casualty (assuming). The guy you dumped for being obsessed with sex.”

Shannon texted, “Oh… to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Dick?”

I texted, “Now come now, no need for this type of language. Especially, when I’ve been wanting to apologize.”

Shannon texted, “I’d say it’s too late for an apology now, so fuck you, Josh. You blew your chance. Don’t text me again.”

I texted, “This is not about a second chance, my exotic Irish lass. Nevertheless, I’ll respect your request and text you no more.”

After being ridiculed by my dear friend for minutes, my phone vibrated.

“Then why did you text in the first place?”

After ankara escort laughing back at my friend, I texted, “Um… I’m not sure if I should keep texting when you haven’t revoked your previous command, my heaven of a vision in black and green.”

That seemed to tenderize her real good if judging by the roaring laughter that thundered from her table, much to my friend’s displeasure.

When courting a girl, it’s important for her to feel special, pursued. Pet names will get you there quicker than any other way I know aside from money. Groveling also helps.

Shannon texted, “You’re smooth, Josh. I almost forgot. Consider it revoked. Temporarily.”

I texted, “Much obliged, my fair lady. I’ve been soul searching lately and have found myself thinking of you, how I mistreated you, and I’d have really liked for you to accept a sincere apology from this ungrateful fool.”

No laughing anymore; good sign.

Shannon texted, “What’s your angle if not a second chance? That’s no way to ask for forgiveness.”

I texted, “Honest to god, I am not asking for a second chance, and not because I don’t want one, but because I don’t deserve one.”

Shannon texted, “At least we can agree on that.”

I texted, “Indeed, my raven-winged fairy.”

No laughing. Staring at the text and smiling; very good sign.

Throughout the back and forth, Shannon would take her time and let me “stew”; however, I would text instantaneously, making her feel that she was so important to me that this was all I was doing at the moment: focusing on her.

Shannon texted, “So what, you’re now texting every girl you tried to fuck and failed?”

Excellent sign. She now wants to feel special. She wants to know that she’s alone in my head. It’s time to bring it home.

I texted, “No, darling. I’m only texting you.”

Shannon texted, “Then what do you want, Josh? I don’t have time for your games.”

I was in a tricky position. I didn’t want to date her again, but I did want to fuck her. Upon deliberating, I decided that my sad, true story might actually get me there. My friend thought I was merely trying to get into her panties, so I had nothing to worry about.

I texted, “If I may be frank, my greenish African flower, I have a mild medical problem that I don’t want to expand about but that has something to do with you, and no, I didn’t give you anything. That’s why I texted.”

Shannon texted, “Josh, quit with the riddles. What’s going on?”

I texted, “Well, I’ve been having issues in past months getting my gear to work when needed, and last it functioned properly — was with you.”

Mockery and booming laughter. Sure, couldn’t avoid that. Nonetheless, it was a premium I was willing to pay.

Shannon texted, “Flattering as it may, maybe you should text your doctor instead. Have you tried that, Josh? Or did you fail in that, too?”

More mockery. Fantastic… though nothing I hadn’t foreseen.

I texted, “I did. Tried and failed that is. He said my problem is psychological, that I have a mental blockage that has something to do with you, since you’re the last girl who gave me wood and made me feel like a real boy, Miss Geppetto.”

Just a little white lie. Anything to get a VIP passage to her sopping pussy and those huge black mounds.

More laughter, though less mockery and more intrigue.

Shannon texted, “Listen here, Pinocchio, I’m not planning on giving you wood again if that’s why you texted.”

I texted, “I wouldn’t even dream to text you for that, my dark toned high priestess.”

Giggling. Biting her nail and staring at the text. I can’t believe it’s working!

Shannon texted, “You’re going to soon run out of metaphors, Josh… though I kinda wish you didn’t.”

Yes! I’m getting somewhere. My friend was baffled by this little show I was giving him.

I texted, “I will never run out of metaphors with such an inspiration like yourself, my delicious, African-spiked Irish cream.”

More giggling. More staring. More biting her nails. I can’t fucking believe it!

Shannon texted, “I kinda missed this… you. A little.”

Holy shit!

My friend lit up his cigarette, worshiping my ass for what had seemed like an impossible mission at first.

I texted, “Me too. Though sadly, now that I’m out of order, I’ve given up on dating, so I have really nothing to offer to anyone let alone to a muse like yourself.”

Shannon texted, “Why didn’t you talk like that then? I wanna fuckin kill you now.”

Yes! Fuck yes!

I texted, “To err is human, to forgive, divine. All this human is doing is asking this goddess for forgiveness. Nonetheless, I will wish you a great day, and thank you for not blowing me off like I deserved. Goodbye, my swarthy pasture of fresh green grass.”

My friend thought I was out of my mind, saying goodbye to her, but I had a strong feeling it was just the beginning.

Fifteen minutes later, after my friend and I deserted the coffee shop and were ambling up to his car, Shannon texted, “Josh, escort ankara were you serious about the second chance?”

Predictable…

I texted, “Dead serious, but I was also serious about me not into dating till I figure this thing out with my junk. Don’t linger on me, you beautiful ebon elf. I just felt I owed you an apology, and perhaps it’ll give me a second chance with myself.”

Shannon texted, faster than anticipated, “It really sucks how you’re acting now…”

I texted, “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

Shannon texted, “Yes… you’re making me want to give you that second chance.”

Success!

I texted, “My dear emerald tribal queen, I’m not worthy of you, haven’t you figured that out by now? I will never be worthy of you, even less now that I have zero self-esteem.”

I’m pushing there, wiggling the hook… now let’s see if she bites.

Yes! Text!

“Sweetie, I miss you terribly… I can’t wait to get back home and to kiss you. All of you. I carry you in that golden heart you bought me… love you so much :-*”

Shit…

My sister texted me. I missed her like crazy, and that text just ruined my life. I had no idea how would I do what I needed to do, but I knew I had to.

Shannon texted, “Well, we can be friends. There’s no rule against that, right?”

Yeah, with benefits.

I texted, “I’d love to be your friend :)”

Shannon texted, “So, do you have any plans for tonight, friend?”

I texted, “Actually, I do. I’m going…”

I texted her about that bar my friends and I were planning on going out to.

Shannon texted, “Are you serious? Because I already made plans to go there, too. So weird…”

Yeah, right… lame.

I texted, “It’s incredible. It’s like the universe wants… well, maybe I’ll see you there (fingers crossed)?”

Shannon texted, “Maybe… bye, friend.”

I texted, “Bye… :(“

Whatever.

***

I was out with my friends that night and was eager for Shannon to make her appearance. If I managed to get her into bed and perhaps to get hard—since she was indeed the last girl I had been hard with aside from my sizzling-hot sister—I would feel more confident breaking my forbidden relationship with Brooke.

My friends were all aware of the bet and were just as excited as I was since Shannon would most likely bring a friend or two, so an opportunity for them to get something out of it had also been present. Almost an hour later and Shannon was still a no-show, yet I didn’t want to text her. It would have been going against whatever persona I had assumed when texting her earlier today. I couldn’t text.

We kept our revel going for another half-hour or so until what do you know… my new friend entered the bar with three of her girlfriends, and she was looking hot and looking for me, too. I acted as if I hadn’t seen her and kept my back to her, drinking, laughing, making her come to me… she didn’t. In fact, she took her time, observing no doubt. She wanted to see if I was hitting on girls, was my guess. Be that as it may, I was getting impatient. I was beginning to ponder whether I should get up to the restroom, so I could “coincidentally” run into her.

Luckily, Shannon texted just in the nick of time, “Are you having fun yet, friend?”

I texted, “I would’ve been having more fun if my African queen of green clubs was here 🙁 “

I was well aware that she was seated at the bar and was scrutinizing me that whole time, yet I kept the game going and instructed my friends not to stare her way, so she wouldn’t be tipped off.

Shannon texted, “And the metaphors keep on flowing…”

I texted, “As promised, my Zulu, Celtic princess warrior.”

Shannon texted, “I don’t think our friendship has started off very well, Josh.”

I texted, “Oh?”

Shannon texted, “You’re looking good there and happy, but you haven’t come say hello. That’s no way to treat a friend…”

I pretended to search for her across the bar until my eyes locked with hers. I faked a coy simper and walked up to her. I said hello to her friends before attending to her.

“Wow, friend, you look gorgeous.” I kissed her on both cheeks as the French do.

I needed to dazzle her, show her a new me, yet it was a big ask since her ginormous black tits that were peeking out of her blue top were practically begging me to stare.

She batted her eyelashes, smiling. “It’s been awhile, Josh.”

“Yes, it has,” I said, gazing deep into her eyes. “Would you care joining our table, my green shake of African yogurt?”

She and her friends giggled.

“Well, maybe just for a little while.” She gave her bottom lip a lewd nibble. “If only I had someone to escort me…”

She was taking full advantage of this “new” me. She wanted trumpets and everything.

“I’ll be honored to escort you, my sooty pot of green gold.”

They laughed again.

“You’re making it very hard to stay your friend with these metaphors of yours, Josh.”

“And still, friendship is all that is left ankara escort bayan for me to give, my jade goddess of the night.”

More laughing. I’m on fire.

“Then you’re going to have to stop with these quips. I don’t know if I can just be friends with someone who’s so… charmingly witty.”

That look she gave me now — was the look I was waiting for.

“Noted, my steaming pint of Guinness. After you”—I added the appropriate hand gesture—”friend.”

Shannon and her entourage joined us, and we instantly delved into our joyful merrymaking. A couple of my friends made headway with her girlfriends, and I was more charming than ever. I achieved that by doing something I hadn’t done the first time around — listening to her.

Since I needed her sold on this “new” Josh, I insisted on eluding all references to sex, and that meant that I had to “bashfully” overlook a few of Shannon’s cock teasing jabs, which was harder than I thought; even so, I had a feeling she was testing me with those bold remarks more than anything, and I wasn’t about to accept anything but a glowing A+.

Unfortunately, I was now thinking about my sister more than ever. I felt I was wronging her, and the fact that I was madly in love with her didn’t help, either. I felt like dying whenever I thought about that talk I was planning on having with her; however, my mind was resolved to end our forbidden contact and to get Shannon into bed as quickly as possible.

Our night out concluded with Shannon and me leaving early to another bar, which was mellower and more suitable for conversing. We talked there for a couple of hours, and it had been quite pleasurable. She was more interesting than I recalled. We finished our outing waiting for her girlfriends to meet her outside our bar, so they could share a cab.

“I had a really nice time with you, Josh.”

“Likewise.”

“I don’t think we had a better date than this when we were dating. Come to think of it, I’m positive we haven’t had a better date.”

“Yeah, well, maybe ’cause this wasn’t a date, was it, friend?”

“Wasn’t it?” She leaned in to kiss me.

I shied away. I had to. I couldn’t cheat on the woman I loved. I couldn’t believe I didn’t kiss her because I didn’t want to cheat on my sister. How absurd and surreal all of this was.

Shannon was expectedly hurt and confused by my rejection, and her pretty face made no effort to conceal either. I had to come up with something good.

“Shannon, I don’t want to make the same mistake again.”

“What mistake? Kissing me?!”

“God forbid. Your lips are exactly where I want my lips to be,” I lied.

“Then what the fuck is going on in here, Josh?! I thought we had a great time! I thought this was what you wanted! Are you fucking playing me?!”

“Now that’s not fair. I was completely honest with you about wanting to be your friend. Don’t make a liar out of me.”

She lit up a cigarette, and I followed suit.

“What the fuck, Josh?! I thought that… we were playing around! Did you honestly think I would just be your friend?!”

“But I wasn’t playing around. I was totally genuine with you about everything. Everything.”

Her face morphed from angry and hurt into shocked and flummoxed. “You mean… you were serious about that… your junk?”

I nodded. “I really don’t have anything to offer you, Shannon. I wasn’t kidding.”

“Jesus Christ… you really did 180, didn’t you? From a complete lying jackass to…”

“I’m really sorry for how I treated you before. I was obsessed with sex, just as you said, and now I’m being punished for it.”

She shook her head. “I’m… this is so not how I thought this night would end.”

“I’m sorry if I misled you; it wasn’t my intention. I do care about you, and I don’t want to see you getting hurt again. Certainly not by me.”

Her friends arrived in a cab.

“Jesus… I have to go.”

“Shannon…”

***

On Sunday, my sister returned from her out-of-town weekend. I was in my room when I heard her downstairs talking to my mom. I was getting gloomier than ever. I would have to hurt both of us, and my trick with Shannon had exploded in my face. I was going to lose both ends of the rope: hurting my sister, and I’d already blown up my second chance to fuck Shannon. And let’s not forget that I was about to kiss my pitiful, weekly erection goodbye. Those were three ends of the rope, come to think of it; one too many for me to lose.

I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs; more like speeding up the stairs. Oh god…

My door was breached without even a warning; my goddess of a sister stood in my doorway: cutoffs, crop top, golden brown hair gushing like a river down her back, makeup that could get me erect without her even touching me, the necklace I had bought her, and a loving grin stretching her mouth wide. I was in serious trouble.

She slammed the door as she stormed at me. A second before our lips touched, I tilted my head aside, giving her my right cheek, and, thus, concluded a nightmarish sixteen hours, during which I had turned down the lips and tongue of not one, but two hot girls.

Brooke took a step back, closely mimicking the expression Shannon had had on her face just the night before. “What’s going on, Josh?”

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