Written In Blood: Journey’s End

Stopping at the door, she turned and with a thoughtful look, just said, “Maybe.” Then she was gone. And that was the last I saw of my twin sister, Jenny, for eight long weeks, until the first week in July, just fifteen days before our seventeenth birthday.  

Each day since she had left had seemed like a lifetime of utter misery. Even now, nine years later, it feels as if it was only yesterday that I sat there in my room waiting in nervous anticipation for her return. It’s said that a watched clock travels more slowly; it was certainly so that Sunday morning.  

I’d awoken early from a restless sleep, caused by the excitement of Jenny’s pending return and by a slight pain I was suffering in my arms, following the removal of plaster casts three weeks earlier. I’d got dressed in readiness, but as I watched the slow progress of the clock, I felt myself drifting in and out of sleep, until floating through my dreams came the sound of Jenny’s ethereal giggles, somewhere below. She was home.

Of course, I didn’t want to seem too eager; I didn’t want her to know that I’d spent every waking minute of the last few weeks thinking about her, but I could hardly contain my excitement as I rushed to my bedroom door. And yet, as I clutched at the door handle, I froze. What am I doing? Will Jenny want to see me? What does she think of me? Does she hate me? Question after question filled my mind, with no obvious answers to be found. This is crazy, I thought. This girl is my sixteen year old, twin sister.

Taking deep breaths and calming myself the best I could, I sauntered downstairs to see her sat on the sofa chatting with our parents. “Hi Jen,” I said, with fake nonchalance.

No words came back, just a beaming smile, as she leapt to her feet and ran towards me with outstretched arms, which she flung around my neck, before kissing me on both cheeks. “Hello shorty,” she screamed.

Just in that short space of time since I’d last seen her, she’d grown by a couple of inches, and as I clasped her tight to my body, I felt her budding, warm breasts and slender body push against me. She’d lost weight, too. Pulling back a little, she blew her straw-blonde hair away from her face, and flashed me those beautiful, blue eyes.   And her scent, it was wonderful, just like fresh strawberries on a summer’s day.

“Have you missed me, then?” she said with a sly giggle, and a wink.

“No, of course not,” I snapped, coyly. Although, I think the fact that my arms were still wrapped around her, and holding her tight around the waist, gave it away that I had.    

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my mother raise an eyebrow. “Come on you two. What’s all this soppy stuff,” she said.

“Yeah, get off me,” I shouted, pushing Jenny back, fearful that we might be suspected.

If time had travelled slowly waiting for Jenny’s return, it was as nothing compared with the interminable wait for the sun to go down. Not once, throughout the day, had I had chance to be alone with her, so as I climbed into bed I listened intently for soft footfalls outside my door. I waited, all night I waited, but nothing came; no sound, no turning of the door handle, no Jenny.

It was not until the next day that I first had the opportunity to talk with her alone. She was already up and having breakfast, when I approached.

“Morning shorty,” she said, eyes sparkling.

“What’s going on, Jen?” I snapped back. “Why didn’t you come to my room last night.”

“What? Why would I have?” she replied, quizzically.  

“Well, errr, I thought we’d do, you know, what we did last time you were here.”

She looked almost mystified, as if she had absolutely no idea of what I was talking about, but then I noticed a flushed look about her, a look of embarrassment, as her eyes fell downward into the bowl of cereal she’d been eating.

“Oh, that,” she whispered in a lost voice. “Listen, we should never have done that. It went too far. I was only helping you masturbate because you couldn’t do it for your self, not with your hands all smashed up like that. It was just me helping you, okay. That’s all it was.”

“No Jenny, it was more than that. I loved it, and you did too.” I replied in a shocked, unbelieving voice. “Anyway, I thought you had problems with having an orgasm, so couldn’t I help you with that?”

“Yes, that’s a problem, but it’s not the same thing,” she snapped back.   

With that, she got to her feet, pushed by me, and ran upstairs. Of course, I ran after her, but was stopped in my tracks by her bedroom door slamming in my face. From behind it, I could hear her sobs. “Go away, leave me alone,” she cried.

“What the hell is going on with you two,” came a voice over my shoulder. It was my father. “You don’t usually fight like this. I’m disappointed in the both of you.”

Much to my annoyance, he had decided to take the next three weeks as a vacation from work. He wanted to spend ‘quality’ time with us. Unfortunately, this meant that my opportunities to be alone with Jenny were few and far between.     

Each passing day brought more and more frustration. Whenever I tried to speak with her or catch her alone, she ignored me and walked away.   Not being able to sleep properly, I’d started to look gaunt and dishevelled, and I was even beginning to fear for my sanity. But then, just as I was thinking I could take no more, a chance presented itself.

It was the Friday after Jenny’s homecoming. Our parents had booked tickets for us to see Mission Impossible II, and all four of us were in the car, heading for the cinema. About half way through the forty minute journey, I looked across at Jenny, there in the back seat, to my left. Her silhouette was framed in a dim light that grew as my eyes adjusted. Again, and again, I marvelled at her beauty. One of the most enchanting things about Jenny is that she’s never understood just how beautiful she is.

As I looked at her more intently, I noticed how the hem of her pale green, summer dress had ridden up slightly, exposing about half the length of her athletic thighs. She was dozing, resting her head against the side window of the car. This was my chance, the opportunity I’d waited for.

Reaching across with my left hand, I lightly ran my fingers up and down the smooth skin of her inner right thigh, stopping each time just an inch or so from her panties. Lost in the moment, I didn’t even register that she had awoken from her light sleep and was now looking at me. Then, suddenly, I was all too aware of her glare. With a fearful rage in her eyes, she shook her head from side to side at me, and silently mouthed the words, “No, we can’t. Please. Please don’t.”

By then, her legs had closed around my hand, halting my upward advances, but there was still enough room to make little, circular movements on her inner thigh, just a few inches above her knee. This was clearly a sensitive spot for her, because as I watched, I saw her swallow hard and bite her lower lip, her face contorted with forbidden pleasure. Trying her best to contain her muffled gasps, she began to squirm under my touch, and slowly, very slowly, to part her legs.

Continuing the circular movement of my fingers, I slid my hand further up my sister’s soft, warm thigh, until finally I felt the wet material of her cotton panties under my touch. Her eyes and mouth widened, as I brushed my fingers over the contours of her gushing slit, and then circled her clitoris through her knickers. Already drenched in Jenny’s hot juices, my fingers rubbed harder, and harder, until I slid them down the left side of her bulging pussy lips to locate the edge of the panty material. But no matter how I tried, I could not hook my finger underneath to pull them to one side.

“You two are quiet back there. Is everything alright?” came my mother’s voice from the front seat, as she started to turn around to look at us.

“Yeah, fine,” Jenny and I shouted in unison, while I quickly pulled my hand out from under her dress.

Even now, watching Mission Impossible II gives me a raging erection.

Stupidly, perhaps, I thought the incident in the car would make Jenny realise that there was no stopping our destiny, but instead it just seemed to make her colder towards me. On the Monday following the incident, she asked our parents if she could sleep over at her best friend, Molly’s house for a few nights, and they agreed. Again, my plans were thwarted.

Not until the next Friday did Jenny return, but as she walked through the front door that evening she seemed in a far better mood than when I’d last seen her; I’d go as far as to say that she was pleased to see me.

“What you been doing then, shorty pants?” she said with a grin.   

“Not much,” I replied. “And stop calling me that.”

“I’m only teasing,” she continued. “Don’t get all upset. Hey, guess what, Molly told me that she thinks you’re cute and she wants me to set you up on a date with her. How about that?”

“No way, I’m not dating her,” I snapped back. “Let’s change the subject. I want to talk about what happened in the car last week.”

Jenny’s eyes immediately dropped to the ground. “I want to forget it. Please don’t go on. You shouldn’t have touched me like that.”

“But why? I just want to make you happy, Jen. Did you cum when I touched you?” I urged in a low voice, desperate to know.

“Okay, if I tell you, then you must stop talking about it. No, I didn’t cum, but I was very close, and if you hadn’t have stopped when you did, then I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Then let me help you, Jen,” I pleaded, looking at her intensely.

“No, don’t look at me.”

Tears were welling up in her eyes, along with a sadness that broke my heart, as she silently bowed her head, turned from me, and left the room.

It was another long, sleepless night, hoping and waiting for Jenny to appear at my bedroom door, but still she did not come. Looking back now, I see that night as a turning point in my life; it was the point at which I decided that I would be in control of my own destiny. From that moment onwards, life would no longer just be something that happened to me; it would, instead, be in my grasp.   

Saturday dragged by, but I busied myself, and made sure I kept out of Jenny’s way. I think my cool attitude came as a surprise to her, because more than once she tried to engage me in conversation, without success; if she was going to play hot and cold with me, then I was going to do the same with her.

It was late in the evening when she confronted me coming out of the bathroom. “Why are you being funny with me?” she asked, softly. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. I never, ever wanted to do that. I love you.”

“Yeah, whatever Jennifer,” I sneered, pushing her to one side and heading to my room.

I’d hoped she would follow me, but it was not to be; there was no quiet tapping on the door. I’m not ashamed to say that, at that very point, I sat on my bed, placed my head in my hands and began to cry. It seemed as if I’d never feel the warmth of her touch again. No, no, I thought, this is not how it’s going to end; I’m going to take control of this.

For the next couple of hours myriad thoughts raced through my mind, until at just after 2pm I finally made the decision that I was going to go to Jenny’s room.

Out on the landing, as I crept forward, I could see a thin slip of light shinning from under her door. Stepping closer, being careful not to let the floorboards creak, I listened for any noise coming from within. There was nothing. My heart was pounding so hard that I thought it would explode from my chest, as I reached for the door handle to her room and gently turned it. I’d done it; I was now past the point of no return. Pushing the door open, I could see Jenny asleep on her bed, the covers tossed to one side. Her light blue, cotton T-shirt had ridden up around her waist, revealing a tiny pair of panties; a red pair that I’d masturbated over many times. An open book lay across her breasts, with her left hand covering it. Her right hand dangled lazily between her thighs.

By that point my penis was already straining to be released, so I popped it from my pyjamas, as I stood looking down at the vision of beauty that was my sister. A second of hesitation was soon overtaken by my desire, as I started to masturbate. Faster and faster, I pulled at myself, while flicking my eyes back and forth over her limp body, savouring every bit of it.

“Jenny, Jenny,” I called, trying to contain myself.

Her eyes opened just as I began to ejaculate, sending peals of semen flying over her legs and panties, and up over the book she was clutching. Expecting a caustic rebuke, I braced myself, but she said nothing. Instead, she just reached up with her left hand and took hold of my flagging penis. She smiled at me: a loving, caring, smile.

What came next was just incredible. With her right hand, still dripping with my cum, she reached inside the waistband of her panties and slid it down. As she did so, she flung her legs open wide, so that I had a clear view of her finger movements behind the soaking material. Although I could see nothing but outlines, I imagined the sight of my sister’s fingers, covered in my sticky cum, thrusting deep inside her. It was an image that brought me back to an erect state almost immediately. Similar to what she’d done only a few weeks before, she was soon wanking me in time with her own masturbatory movements. Then, looking up at me with those big blue eyes, and fluttering her long eyelashes, she sat up and lent forward. At that moment it dawned on me; my sister was going to wank me off into her mouth. It was almost impossible to hold back, as I watched her pouty, pink lips part and her tongue stretch out to lick the tip of my penis, while she continued a rhythmic pumping of my shaft. Letting her lips slip back and forth over my bulging sex-head, she kept up the hand movement until I could hold out no longer. Looking down, I watched as my semen poured onto her waiting tongue, before she took my cock fully into her hot, aqueous mouth.  

Falling back onto her bed, my cum trickling down the side of her face, I watched as she increased the speed of her fingers, while clutching hold of her duvet, pulling it up to her mouth and biting on it hard. Her eyes rolled back in her head, almost as if she was having a convulsive fit, while her bottom jerked up and down on the bed in time with her finger movements. Wave after wave of orgasmic rapture broke over her tender body, as she arched her back and squealed with the ecstasy of release.

Reaching forward, I pulled at the waistband of her panties, but Jenny grabbed my hand and pulled it away. “No, no more. This has to stop,” she said in an exhausted voice, trying to catch her breath. “Get out, please, get out of my room…”

Hurt by her rejection, I turned and did as she asked. And I suppose, that at that moment, I truly believed that we’d never take things any further.

It was Sunday, the day before our seventeenth birthday. By the time I awoke the sun was already high in the sky. Looking out of my bedroom window, I could see Jenny sat under the apple tree that stood at the centre of my parents’ lawn; she was reading the book she had with her the night before. Dressing quickly, I ran downstairs and out into the garden.

“Morning, Jen. You okay?” I asked in a happy, but concerned voice.

“Yeah,” she replied, not peering up from her book. “But you must promise never to come into my room again like that. I love you, but you’re my brother, and this must stop now.”

“But I want you, Jen. I want you more than anything,” I replied. “I love you, Jen.”

In her eyes, I could see that nothing would persuade her that what we’d done was right, because in my heart I knew it was wrong, too. And yet every fibre of my body was telling me the opposite.

For the rest of that day I did my best to avoid Jenny, resigning myself to the realisation that the journey she and I had embarked on was coming to an end.  

As night fell across the house, I watched my sister going about her chores, and I remember thinking to myself that if stopping was what it was going to take to make her happy, then that’s what I’d do. She meant everything to me.

Later, as I climbed into my bed, I let my mind drift back over all that had happened, and as I did so I fell into a deep and contented sleep, one full of wistful dreams, so vivid that they were difficult to distinguish from waking reality. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t immediately register that Jenny was standing over my bed, framed in a midnight blue darkness.

Turning on my bedside light, I saw her flushed face light up, as she raised a finger to her lips. “Shhh, one last time,” came her almost inaudible words.

Exhaling deeply, she lifted her hands to the old school shirt she was wearing, and delicately began to unbutton it. It seemed to take an age, before at last she slowly revealed her small, firm breasts to me, dotted with puffy, pink nipples, that were already becoming erect.

Letting her shirt fall to the floor, she took a step forward. And there she was, in flesh and blood, standing before me in nothing but her knickers. I’d been sleeping naked that night, so as I climbed from my bed and held her in my arms, my penis bobbed up against her flat tummy. Reaching out, I brushed the hair away from her eyes, and looked deep into her soul. A smile played on her lips.  

Without any further hesitation, I pulled her towards me, and so began the most passionate kiss ever. Our bodies entwined, as we let our tongues play together, until we were drinking from each other.   Then, reaching down with my right hand, I began to fondle her breasts, feeling out her hardening nipples and pinching them. She gasped and gulped for air, while I let my kisses tumble down over her throat, and nuzzled into her neck. Behind my head, I could feel her hand gently stroking my hair, as I sunk further down to suckle on her breasts, and bite playfully on her nipples.

It wasn’t long before I was on my knees before her, almost in a state of worship, while my hands slid up over her hips and pulled her forward, so that her pale pink coloured panties brushed against my nose. I breathed deeply of her sweet scent, as I looked in awe at the sight of her ballooning vulva, and traced the contour of her slit with my eyes. Watching her wetness expand, making the material of her panties almost transparent, I moved in to lick and kiss her moist cleft. After so many months of waiting, the time at last came for me to taste my sister’s pussy juices, direct from the source, rather than from just her dried cum stained knickers. Then, as if unwrapping a precious gift, I gingerly peeled those panties down, so she could step out of them.

Finally, I could see what I’d yearned so long for. Soft wisps of light blonde pubic hair covered her puffy mons pubis, but further down the outer lips of my sister’s slippery vulva were smooth. A white, opaque fluid was welling up in the tight crease between her legs. No longer in any control, I lent forward and, parting those tight lips, buried my tongue into my sister as deep as it would go, while she continued to stroke the back of my head. Soon I’d found the crinkly folds of her inner lips, while above me I felt her start to shudder, her legs beginning to buckle. Quickly, I caught hold of her and pushed her forward so that she rested on my bed on her elbows, with her bottom sticking high in the air.

Wheeling around, I looked down at the crack of her bottom, before leaning forward and parting it. I remember smiling at the site of her tiny, pink anus, because it kept bulging in and out, almost winking at me. Still on my knees, and positioned behind, I lapped at her pussy, which she was now holding open for me. And with each stroke of my tongue, I went a little higher and a little deeper into her, before coming to rest on her perineum. It must have been an incredible sensation for her, because I felt her body tense, and she began to squirt. I had her now, and I was not going to stop. Moving my tongue up further, I flicked it across her anus, making her writhe in pleasure, while she pushed her bottom back towards me. By that point I was on the verge of ejaculating, so I leapt to my feet and brought my penis up to her pussy lips from behind, but too my utter surprise, Jenny reached back and parted her buttocks.

“Fuck me here,” she gasped, pulling her anus wide with her fingers. “It’s safer.”

I didn’t need asking twice. With my right hand, I directed my glistening sex head up from the crease of her pussy and located it at the entrance of her anus, before slowly trying to ease it in. But it was so tight, and I was afraid that I might hurt her.

“I can’t, Jen. It’ll hurt you,” I urged.

With that, I pushed my cock back down into her pussy, and began thrusting with long, deep strokes, so that the cheeks of her bum slapped against my stomach, while I grasped her around the waist. It didn’t take but more than three or four thrusts, before I felt my balls knot and my body clench. And then it happened, after so much waiting, I was at last pumping my hot, cum deep into my beautiful sister’s virgin pussy; I could feel every squirt as I went in, and so could she.

Afterwards, resting on the bed together, cuddling, we just smiled at each other, as I pulled the duvet up over us and switched the bedside lamp off.          

It was dawn when I awoke, to see Jenny’s naked body still and silent beside me, laying in my arms. “Shhh, one last time,” I whispered, as she opened her sleepy eyes and smiled. Gently, I rolled on top of her, while she reached down and guided my penis between her open legs. Then, I lowered myself on my elbows, so that, as I built a slow thrusting movement, I could kiss and nuzzle into her neck. It was over all too quickly, but as I ejaculated into my sister for the last time I whispered, “I love you.”

Closing her eyes again, I watched her contented, happy face, as she drifted back into dreams, while sunrise sizzled the morning dew that had settled on my bedroom window.

Jenny left soon after our birthday, to go travelling for a year, before starting university to study medicine. We never lived together, or had sex, again. If nothing else, at least these days, so she tells me, Dr. Jen never, ever has trouble reaching an orgasm.

Do I regret what happened? I’ve pondered on this question more times than you can imagine, and I always come to the same answer. Yes, I regret it, but not because it was wrong, but because I can never be with her, or ever find a love to match. Some wounds never heal.