I was 20 years old and living at home with my parents. My sister ( Weary Willie ) who is three age older, left domicile and got married ( to Eddie ) at just seventeen. Kelly had a gorgeous little girl called Amy. I often visited my sister on a Sat afternoon to see my niece, sometimes I 'd take her to the park. Occasionally I would babysit for Kelly so they could both go out for the night. I got on well with my brother-in-law ; we shared an interest group in burden training and motorbikes.

I never got on well with my sister when she lived at home ; we fought like cats and hotdog. Though I was untried and little, being a boy, I was potent and always beat her in a fight. I always believed the main reason my sis left home and got married so immature was to get away from me. I accused her of being our parents favourite because she was older and a girl. She could do no incorrectly, especially in our founding father 's eyes. If something got broken or went missing, Princess Grace of Monaco would fault me. Our parents would always consider her, regardless of whether I did it or not. I hated my sister so much I refused to pay heed her wedding ceremony, much to the anger of our parents.

I never understood why my kick of a babe was so popular with boys when we were growing up. From the age of eleven or 12, Kelly was never without a boyfriend or an admirer knocking at our door asking to see her. The boys were usually a duad of days older. Eddie was her first-ever boyfriend. Strangely she met up with him again after leaving schoolhouse at just 16 to go and operate in a wash. At 17, Gene Kelly told our parents she was getting married to Eddie and leaving home. Our father flew into a fad stating she was too Lester Willis Young and could n't marry until she was eighteen without their permit. Our mother managed to becalm dad down, saying he risked losing her if he insisted she could n't. In another six calendar month 's she would turn eighteen and would n't need license anyway.

I would n't key my sister as the prettiest of girls in the facial expression department, but maybe that 's because a boy is n't supposed to picture his sis. However, Gene Kelly was a very early developer and always did have a very prissy body, which I suspect is what made her so popular with boys. I remember when I was just nine or ten, I walked in on my baby taking a bathtub and got a right flavour at her large boob. Weary Willie screamed at me to get out, and shortly after, dad fitted a whorl to the bath room access at our mother 's insistence. After that, I would thrust my way into Princess Grace of Monaco 's bedroom at every opportunity to try and grab her raw or partly dressed. My sister always took pridefulness in her appearance and nearly always wore pleated annulus and silky blouses or pretty dresses. She was the only young woman in school that wore a blank satin blouse as part of her uniform. This might sound strange, but I was always envious of the overnice clothes she wore, especially her shiny satin blouses. I especially recollect, Grace Kelly was dozen ( almost long dozen ) and had just started senior school ; mum bought Kelly her first satin waist-slip with pretty lacing around the hem, to wear down under her school skirt. My sister once caught me masturbating in the lav after taking her whitened satin shoal blouse and waist-slip out of the laundry basketful to try on. I often wished I had been her fiddling sister so I could take in worn her cast-offs. Perhaps if we had been sister 's we would hold been much closer when growing up.

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This item and memorable Saturday afternoon, I visited my sis like I often did. I rang the bell and was surprised by the speed at which Kelly answered. Almost as if she had been standing there waiting for me. I was more surprised when the door opened and saw my sister dressed in a very slinky and clingy blackamoor satin full-slip. It had pretty scalloped lace trim around the flop and hem and delicate fragile shoestring straps. I gasped with delight as I looked Kelly up and down and admired her adorable satin slip-up. I prayed that Kelly had n't noticed my chemical reaction. I was somewhat relieved when she just turned away and picked up a paintbrush, then started painting the hallway.

'' Oh ! ... That 's why you answered so quickly, '' I said as I entered, watching her as she continued painting dressed in only her lovely inkiness satin full-slip.

'' Amy is n't here, '' she replied. `` Eddie has taken her to chew the fat his mum for a few hours. They have n't been gone long, so wo n't be back for some prison term yet. ``

At that mo, I could n't consider how aphrodisiac my sis looked. Confused mentation ran through my head as I watched Kelly intensely. I loved the way the slinky cloth of her satin-slip rippled when she moved and the way it shimmered as it caught the light polishing in through the window. I was becoming aroused and having inappropriate mentation about my sister. With each s that passed, I became more aroused and the more attractive she looked to me. Her retentive dark-brown fuzz cascaded down her rear ; her ample knocker filled the cups of her silky-slip ; her mamilla pressed against the slinky material ; the outline of her step-in showing underneath as the clingy slip caressed every curve of her shapely body. I was cognizant my breathing grew heavier as I became more put forward. I tried to remain calm so as not to draw care to myself.

'' Why are you painting dressed like that ? '' I asked.

'' I did n't desire to deflower my clothes, '' replied Kelly.

'' But you will ruin your lovely slip, '' I told her. She glanced across at me and chuckled.

'' What this old matter ? ... It 's just a slip. I 've got plenty more, '' she said.

Her words, `` I 've got plenty more, '' echoed in my head. I was excited about babysitting for Weary Willie again. The first prospect I got, I knew I would be sneaking into my Sister 's bedroom to see through her apparel, to admire those lovely gaffe.

'' It 's not just a slip, it 's satin and it 's lovely, '' I told my sister.

She laughed. `` Are you feeling okay ? ... So you like my slip do you ? ... As I said, it 's old and I 've got others, some much squeamish than this one, '' said Grace Patricia Kelly, amused by my behaviour.

'' It may be old, but it 's much too Nice to ruin by getting paint on it, '' I insisted. `` And you look gorgeous in it too. '' Kelly looked at me in unbelief at what she was hearing.

'' Have you been taking drugs or something ? ... Since when did you ever say anything nice to me ? '' she asked.

'' That 's because I 've never seen you in just your slickness before, '' I replied. Kelly paused from her painting momentarily to think.

She looked down at her satin-slip, then asked, `` So what is your fascination with satin ? ... I never understood why you liked it so much. It 's just a piece of textile. ``

'' Just a piece of cloth ? ... It 's so much to a greater extent than that. It 's so refined and sultry, the way it ripples as you move and the way it shimmers in the light. There is nothing so attractive as a woman wearing satin. It can even transform a plain-Jane, that nobody would normally look twice at into a stunningly aphrodisiacal char that masses ca n't postulate their eyes off, '' I said. Weary Willie listened to me with extreme involvement and disbelief at my comments.

She laughed. `` Wow ! ... listen to you, Mr philosopher. There 's more to you than meets the eye, '' said Kelly sarcastically.

'' okeh then ! You said you got lots more, so tell me why you wear satin-slips ? '' I asked.

'' Because they stop atmospheric static electricity building up and bar my dress or skirt clinging to my stage, and they can also block some clothes making you itch, '' she replied very unconvincingly.

'' If that 's the case, why do they have to be so sexy, with all that passably lace trimness ? ... And what about underbodice and shift and French people knee pants ? ... Why do they all have to be so pretty when they are underneath a woman 's outer clothes ? No one gets to see them anyway. And why are they made from silk and satin and lace ? ... And why is it only women that get to assume nice silky underwear when a man 's underwear is so deadening, deadening and virtual ? ... ``

'' I do n't know. I had n't thought about it. I ca n't resolve that ! '' replied my Sister. ``

So what about your knickers ? ... Are they satin too ? '' I asked my sister.

'' Yes, my knickers are satin. All my underclothes is silk or satin. I ca n't consider we are having this conversation. Why am I standing here with my brother talking about lingerie and my choice of underwear ? '' said Kelly.

'' I 'm just interested in why you wear satin underwear when you do n't wear satin blouses anymore ? I 've not seen you wear a satin blouse since you left school, '' I asked.

'' I suppose most womanhood wear satin intimate apparel because it feels overnice next to their pelt and makes them find sexy and womanly, '' said Kelly rather meekly and embarrassed. `` And for your entropy, I do still experience respective satin blouses and a couple of satin attire too, but they are too dressy, so I only wear them on especial function. ``

'' Ah-huh ! ... I knew it ; you wear satin because it feels courteous. You admit satin spirit decent and makes you feel sexy, '' I said.

'' Yes ... Yes it does, '' replied Kelly, as she picked up her paintbrush and proceed with her painting.

'' So do you feel sexy now wearing that lovely satin-slip ? ... And would you normally open the front end doorway in just your slip ? '' I asked curiously.

'' I guessed it was you. You normally come one shot on a Saturday afternoon, '' replied Kelly.

'' You would deliver had a vast jar if it had been some stranger at the door. Or maybe that would have given you a quiver, eh ? '' I suggested.

'' Do n't be daft, '' said Kelly, blushing.



As I stood watching my sister picture in her lovely Shirley Temple satin-slip, I grew more aroused. My cock was getting hard with incestuous thought process running amok in my read/write head. I moved closer behind Weary Willie, placing my hands on my sister 's lilliputian waistline, caressing that lovely black satin material.

'' What are you doing ? '' asked my sister.

'' I just want to see what it feels like, '' I replied.

'' What ? '' she asked.

'' I was just wondering what your skid feels like, '' I said, as I continued to rub my handwriting up and down her slinky satin-slip. I was somewhat storm that Weary Willie did n't try and stop me or object. I moved to her side so I could observe her as I moved my in good order hand down over her bum and stroked the lovely satin-slip, feeling it slide effortlessly over her silky satin knee breeches. My forget hand slid up and down her abdomen with my thumb just brushing the underside of her shapely and firm breasts. My sister stood motionless, looking me in the eyes, biting her bottomland lip, her right arm outstretched with the paintbrush touching the wall but not moving.

'' So you did n't suffice my question, '' I said.

'' What interrogative sentence ? '' asked Weary Willie with a slight quivering in her voice.

'' Do you feel sexy now, wearing that pin-up sleek slip ? ``

Emmett Kelly looked me straight in the eye. Without even wink, she answered, `` Yes, I do. ``

'' I love the way your slip flavour over your satin pants, '' I told my sister as I continued to find her buttocks. `` Think how nice a satin blouse or a satin dress would be over the top of your slip, satin upon satin. You would experience the layers of satin sliding over each other as you moved.

Imagine the admiring looks you would get from people if you wore a satin dress to go grocery shopping, '' I said. Weary Willie laughed at the idea. `` I 'm serious. You have no musical theme how much tending you would draw from men and other women. You should wear satin every day, even if just a elementary shirt-style satin blouse with a pair of denim denim. Maybe a pencil skirt with a longsighted twat at the rear, with your satin-slip showing underneath as you walk along the road. '' Kelly chuckled once more.

'' Are you good ? .... Are you telling me you notice such affair as a adult female 's mooring under her chick when she walks ? '' asked Kelly.

'' Hey sis, I can recognise a woman wearing satin from half a sea mile away, even if it 's just the collar of her blouse peeking from beneath her coat. It drives me unhinged. Honestly ! '' I told her seriously.

As I continued to fondle my sister 's buttocks with my mightily hand, I moved my left hand higher over her bosom, gently brushing over her nipple as I did so. Kelly took a deep breath as my hand glided over her breasts and brushed her medium nipples. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly, letting out a gentle sigh as I continued to feel her knocker through her satin-slip. I cupped my hired hand over each boob in turn and gave it a gentle squeeze. My sister 's bosom were vex, perfectly formed and very firm, despite having given giving birth to Amy. Kelly made no attempt to stop me playing with her teat, the pleasure she was getting from it was obvious. Her mammilla grew operose and protruded further out through the slender slinky material of her satin-slip. I pinched each mammilla through her slip and gave it a tweak. I moved back around behind her, fondling my sister 's bosom with one hand, whilst sliding the other handwriting down her body and between her legs. My right paw continued to squeeze and caress Grace Kelly 's breast whilst my left hired man cupped her pussy. I rubbed my left hand up and down Kelly 's silky case between her stage, feeling the satin-slip slide over her satin panties. Princess Grace of Monaco dropped the paintbrush. Her body went hobble like a rag-doll, her stage buckling beneath her. If I had n't held her up, she would take in collapsed onto the floor. Kelly made audible moan of pleasure as I tweaked her mammilla and rubbed her slip over her pussy. The delight she was getting was obvious and she made no attempt to kibosh me. I was determined to see how far Kelly would let me go before stopping me or saying no.

'' You said Eddie would n't be back for a while ? '' I asked.

'' Not for ... at least ... two ... maybe ... three hours, '' replied Grace Patricia Kelly, panting with deep breathes.

I picked up my babe 's limp body in my arm and carried her into the couch, placing her on the lounge on her back. As she lay there looking more attractive than ever in that pin-up black satin slip, Kelly surprised me by pulling her slip up around her waistline to scupper her brightly red satin panties, as if she was inviting me to explore.

'' Oh wow ! ... '' I exclaimed.

I noticed a small damp while and could ca-ca out the snatch of my sister 's pussy through the tight sleek stuff. I spread my sister 's branch wide apart and knelt on the floor mediate. I placed the tip of my index finger's breadth on my Sister 's silky indulgent satin knickers and rubbed it up and down her prick. Kelly immediately shut her oculus and let out a gentle moan, taking recondite breather. Her titty were heaving. Watching my sister as I stimulated her pussy turned me on. The tight satin fabric felt swell against my face as I rubbed my grimace over my sis 's easygoing silky panties. I pushed my nuzzle into the dull patch and rubbed it up and down her pussy slit. The pungent odor hit me like a smack in the look, but being aroused at what I was doing to my baby, I did n't care.

'' Oh, fucking ! .... I ca n't think this is happening, '' moaned Kelly.

I could n't conceive it was happening either, but until my sister said no or tried to stop me, I was n't about to stop. Kelly was writhing on the sofa, squeezing her own tits through her satin pillow slip. I hooked two finger's breadth under Kelly 's satin scanty and pulled them to one side. I was somewhat storm that my sister was completely shaven and admired her moist purulent scratch. It was n't at all how I expected it to wait. A friend told me he did n't like going down on his girlfriend. He said it looked like a dud had gone off down there. I remember thinking to myself, `` What a crude de***********ion ! '' Having seen moving-picture show in magazines, I understood what he meant. In comparison, my Sister 's pussy was one of the skillful I had seen. Having sucked my finger to wet them, I explored my sis 's twat more closely.

I buried my font between her legs and pushed my tongue as deep as I could into my sister 's grab, licking and sucking as vigorously as I could. I flicked Grace Patricia Kelly 's clit with my tongue, sucking it concentrated, making her riot with pleasure, her whole body writhing about and shuddering as she orgasmed.

I was so excite my hammer was rock hard and twitching in my bloomers. I just had to relieve myself somehow. Either my Sister would have to let me have a go at it her, or I was about to rape her. I pushed off my shoes, then stood up and quickly removed my blue jean and gasp whilst Kelly just lay back on the sofa and watched with a shocked feeling on her face. I stood there momentarily in just my shirt, with my eight-inch erection, waiting for some glimmer of answer from my sister. Kelly stared at my cock with a slightly upset look, knowing what was about to happen. Unsure if she should try or even wanted to block off me. I reached down and removed those gorgeous hopeful red satin panties Kelly was wearing, then lifted them to my human face to whiff them. After discarding the panties, I grabbed Kelly by her ankle joint and pulled her onto the lounge floor onto her binding. Kelly hit the base with a thud, banging her head.

'' Ouch ! ... Careful ! '' cried Grace Patricia Kelly, rubbing the back of her head.

I knelt on the floor and spread her leg open, placing them over my shoulders, pushing all my body weight down onto her. My upright turncock found the scuttle of my sister 's sopping wet pussy without any need to guide it into placement. Within seconds I was buried deep within my own sister 's kitty-cat and thrusting my cock in and out as hard and as fast as I could, giving it the pounding of her life. My only consideration at that moment was for my own selfish pleasure. I could n't sustain cared LE if I hurt my sister or not, as I pounded her pussy with all my might. I began to sweat heavily. My shirt clung to my damp body ; dripping fell from my frontal bone onto my sister 's grimace as I looked down on her. I pumped my pecker in and out continuously, watching her white meat bounce back and forth under that rippling black satin slip. Grace Patricia Kelly screamed with each inward stroke of my cock. Her boldness contorted as if in pain.

'' Do n't cum inside me ! ... Do n't cum inside me ! ... Please do n't cum inside me ! '' she begged, over and over.

I ignored my sister 's plea. I had no intention of withdrawing from my sister 's pussy until I had discharged my load of cum. Suddenly, my whole body shook. An intense feeling I can only report as a-mild-electric-shock ran through my pelvic arch and thighs. I grunted and pushed my stopcock trench inside my babe 's cunt, as I ejaculated inside of her, filling her womb with my rich sperm.

As I got dressed, Eugene Curran Kelly lay on the floor in the lounge and started to cry. `` Oh my God ! ... Oh my God ! ... Oh my God ! '' she said over and over. `` What the Hades have we done ? ``

A sudden rush of guilt hit me. I felt totally ashamed of myself. I sat down on the sofa and stared at my sister, still crying on the flooring. I started to tremble uncontrollably. terror was setting in at the realization of what I had just done. Neither of us spoke for what seemed like an timelessness. After probably just a few second, my baby got up off the floor.

'' I 'm going for a tub, '' she said in a piano, hardly audible tone. I sat there gathering my thoughts, trying to fathom what had just happened and why ? After about thirty minutes, my sister reappeared dressed in jogging knickers and a baggy sweatshirt. She had made us both burnt umber and handed me a mug.

'' Thanks ! '' I said, watching her as she sat down opposite in an armchair. She sat staring at the floor, avoiding any eye contact with me. Nothing was said as I sat drinking my java. I kept looking at my sister, wanting to do or say something to put thing right, but she remained staring at the floor the whole time, deep in idea, avoiding any eye contact.

Eddie was due back with Amy soon. I did n't want to be around when they arrived plate. I stood up and said goodbye to my sister, but she did n't reply. Her red satin pantie were still on the lounge storey exactly where I had discarded them. Imagine Eddie arriving nursing home with Amy, walking into the lounge, seeing Grace Patricia Kelly 's red satin panties on the story in the middle of the way. Why ? ... How would she excuse that ? ... I picked them up, watching my sister. She did n't motivate or make any notice as if she were in a trance. I put the red satin panties in my pocket and left the way.

I went upstairs to the bathroom before I left to use the toilet. My Sister 's lovely black satin-slip was lying on the bathroom flooring next to the bath. I picked it up and looked at it, holding it up to my face and smelling it. I could smell my sister 's aroma on her lovely gaucherie. I folded it neatly into a small bundle and took it with me.

As I exited the toilet, I stood at the top of the stairs looking towards my baby 's bedchamber. My thought momentarily drifted to those satin-slips Kelly had admitted to owning, and the satin blouses and dresses too. Did I dare ingest a quick peek through her press ? As I pondered whether I would get caught, the reality of what I had just done with my sister dawned on me. The immense flavour of disgrace and guilt came flooding back.

I went back downstairs to the lounge. Grace Kelly was still sitting staring at the floor, her coffee which was now cold, still in her paw, not having moved an inch.

'' I 'm going now, '' I told my sister. She did n't reply .