Exploring Boundaries
Igor Pajic
Exploring Boundaries
Igor Pajic
Taboo Dreams
Bookapy User License
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to Bookapy.com and acquire your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Copyright © 2024 Igor Pajic
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by:Taboo Dreams
Printed in the United States of America
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by:Taboo Dreams
Printed in the United States of America
"You're such a dork, Ian," Ivy said, rolling her eyes as she rummaged through their shared bathroom drawers.
Ian, standing in the doorway, felt his cheeks heat up. He was trying to be helpful, but as usual, his twin sister had to belittle him. "I was just looking for the toothpaste," he mumbled, taking a step back.
"Well, if you weren't such a space cadet, you'd know it's in the second drawer on the right," she retorted, slamming it shut. The bathroom mirror rattled with the force of the drawer hitting the sink.
Ian took another step back, his reflection looking small and awkward. He was tired of being the butt of Ivy's jokes, the one she always picked on. Their entire life, it had been this way. While she was the star of the school plays and the captain of the soccer team, he was the one who'd rather read a book than socialize. They looked so alike, but their personalities couldn't be more different.
Their shared room was a testament to their stark differences. Ivy's side was a kaleidoscope of posters, trophies, and clothes strewn about, while Ian's was meticulously organized with a single bookshelf holding his beloved fantasy novels. They'd often argue about the mess she made, which always ended with their parents sighing and telling him to just deal with it.
One evening, as Ian sat at his desk engrossed in the latest chapter of his favorite book, Ivy burst into the room, her eyes wide with excitement. She had news, something she hadn't shared with anyone else. Her breathlessness suggested it was significant. "Guess what, Ian?" she said, her voice bubbly with anticipation.
Ian, used to her sudden interruptions, kept his eyes on the page. "What?" he asked, not bothering to hide his lack of interest.
Ivy huffed and plopped down on her bed. "I got the lead in the school play!" she exclaimed.
Ian's eyes finally lifted from his book. "That's great," he said with forced enthusiasm, knowing she'd expect more.
"It's not just great," Ivy said, her voice taking on a rare earnestness. "It's... it's life-changing."
Ian couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He'd never had anything so momentous happen to him. "Congrats," he managed to say, his voice flat.
Ivy studied his expression, seeming to realize his true feelings. "You know, you could always come to a rehearsal," she suggested, a hint of kindness in her tone. "You might enjoy it."
Ian blinked. "Why would I do that?"
"I don't know," Ivy shrugged. "Maybe to support your sister?"
The room went silent as Ian pondered her words. The truth was, while they shared the same DNA, they'd never shared much else, especially not their deepest thoughts and feelings. They were both virgins, each keeping their sexuality a secret from the other, as if it was a taboo subject not meant to be discussed between siblings.
Ivy watched him for a moment before sighing dramatically and flouncing out of the room. Ian took a deep breath and returned his gaze to the book in front of him. It was a tale of mythical lands and brave heroes, a welcome escape from the mundanity of his life.
But as he read, his thoughts began to drift. He often found himself masturbating to the vivid female characters that danced across the pages. The way they moved, the way they talked, the way they looked at the male protagonist with desire in their eyes... it was all so alluring. He'd imagine himself in the hero's place, feeling their soft skin, their warm breath against his neck, their legs wrapped around his waist.
Ian had never gotten caught. Not once. He was meticulous in his habits, always waiting until Ivy was out of the room, and cleaning up thoroughly afterward. It was his little secret, a way to feel powerful in a world where he often felt so weak. His eyes wandered to Ivy's side of the room, and he couldn't help but wonder if she had secrets too.
The idea grew in his mind like a weed in the garden of his imagination. What if she did? What if she was just as curious and lonely as he was? He pictured her lying on her bed, her long black hair fanned out on her pillow, her hand slipping under her panties as she thought of some soccer player or actor from a magazine. His heart raced at the thought.
He thought he was alone in the house, the perfect opportunity to indulge in his secret without the fear of being caught.
Ian's curiosity grew stronger with each page he read, and he couldn't ignore the sudden, overwhelming urge to explore his sister's space. It was as if the walls of their room had grown thinner, the divide between their worlds fading away like the ink on the pages of his book. He set his novel down and tiptoed over to Ivy's bed, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.
The room was a chaotic mess, a stark contrast to his own. Her bed was a mountain of clothes and bedding, with only a small valley carved out for her to sleep. He leaned over, his breath held, and peered under her pillow. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help it. This was a chance to peek into Ivy's private life, to see if she was as innocent as she pretended.
There, tucked into the corner of her bed, was a pair of her panties. They were black and lacy, not at all what he expected from his tomboy sister. His heart hammered as he reached out and touched the fabric. It was soft, almost silky, and smelled faintly of her perfume. He felt a rush of heat to his cheeks and his cock began to swell in his pants.
With trembling hands, Ian brought the panties closer to his face, feeling the heat from his breath as he inhaled her scent. It was intoxicating, a mix of sweet and musky that made his mouth water. He could see a slight dampness in the crotch area, and his imagination went wild. Had she been touching herself? The thought sent a jolt of arousal through his body.
He pulled back, his conscience briefly rearing its head, but the temptation was too strong. He had to see more. Carefully, he began to sift through the pile of clothes on her bed, his eyes searching for any other hidden treasures. As he dug deeper, he found a few more pairs of panties, each more revealing than the last. His cock was now fully erect, straining against the fabric of his boxers.
With a shaky hand, Ian pulled out his cock. It was hard and hot, begging for relief. He wrapped Ivy's black lacy panties around the shaft, feeling the fabric's softness against his skin. He stroked himself slowly at first, savoring the sensation. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, driving him wild. He could almost hear her moaning his name, begging for more.
He never thought about his sister that way before. Sure, he'd seen her in a bikini at the pool, or caught her changing before they were old enough to be modest, but those were fleeting moments that didn't linger. Now, with the evidence of her desires so close, so tangible, it was impossible to ignore the way his own body was reacting. He'd always found her attractive, but it was a distant admiration, like appreciating a painting in a museum.
But here, in the privacy of their shared room, with the scent of her arousal wafting through the air, it was different. The boundary between sibling love and sexual desire had blurred, and Ian couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and fear. He'd never dared to explore these feelings before, but the panties in his hand were like a key to a door he never knew existed.
Ian stroked himself faster, his eyes closed tightly as he thought of Ivy's face, her full lips parted in a silent gasp, her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. He imagined her naked body writhing beneath his, her legs entwined with his, her soft skin glistening with sweat. The sensation of the fabric gliding against his sensitive flesh was driving him closer and closer to the edge.
Little did he know that Ivy was by the door, watching her twin brother jerking his cock with her panties. She was furious at the beginning, but more she watched, more exciting it was. She was also a virgin with no sexual experience.
Her cheeks were flushed and her heart raced as she observed Ian's furtive movements. She hadn't meant to spy on him, but she had returned to grab a forgotten script and found herself unable to look away. The sight of him, so vulnerable and lost in his own pleasure, was strangely mesmerizing.
Ivy's hand clenched the doorknob, the metal cold and unyielding against her palm. She knew she should be screaming, should be storming over to snatch her panties away, but she remained frozen. Her breath hitched as she watched her brother's fist pump faster, his face a mask of ecstasy she had never seen before.
Her eyes wandered down to her own body, her own hand unconsciously drifting to her chest. Her nipples had hardened beneath her shirt, and she realized with a shock that she was growing wet. The same desire that had bloomed in Ian was now spreading through her veins, setting her body alight with a heat she had never felt before.
Ivy stepped closer, her breath shallow and her pulse racing. The fabric of her own panties grew damp as she watched Ian's hand move faster and faster, the muscles in his arm tensing with each stroke. The sight was both disturbing and fascinating, a taboo she never thought she would be privy to.
Suddenly, Ian's body stiffened, and a strangled sound escaped his throat. His hand moved in erratic jerks, and then he was coming, the white hot spurts of his release spattering onto the black lace of her favorite panties. The scent of his climax filled the room, mingling with her own arousal and the faint smell of her perfume.
As Ian's orgasm subsided, his eyes snapped open, and he realized what he had done. Panic flooded him, and he quickly shoved his cock back into his pants, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He looked around the room, half expecting to find Ivy standing there, glaring at him with disgust.
But she wasn't there. The door was still closed, and the room was eerily silent, save for the sound of his own ragged breathing. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. How could he have been so careless?
The panties were a mess, a tangible proof of his indiscretion. He couldn't leave them like that, couldn't risk her finding out. With trembling hands, he folded them back into a neat square and tucked them under the pillow, his face burning with guilt. He knew he had crossed a line, but the desire was stronger than any sense of decorum.
Ivy had slipped away as silently as she'd arrived, her thoughts racing. She had seen Ian in a way she never wanted to, and yet, it was strangely exhilarating. The way he had looked, lost in his own pleasure, had sparked something within her, something she didn't quite understand. It was wrong, she knew that, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she wanted to experience that same ecstasy.
Her hand was still clutching the script, crumpled and forgotten. She looked down at the pages, her eyes glazing over as she replayed the scene in her mind. The anger she'd felt at first was fading, replaced by a curiosity that was equally as potent. She had always felt like they were on different wavelengths, but now she saw a connection she hadn't realized was there.
Days went on, and she found herself avoiding Ian. Not because she was repulsed, but because she was afraid of what might happen if they were alone again. Every time she saw him, she'd feel a flush of heat spread across her cheeks, and she'd be unable to look him in the eyes. The tension between them grew thicker with every passing minute, a silent dance of unspoken desires.
At school, she threw herself into her play rehearsals, finding solace in the world of make-believe. But even there, she couldn't escape the images of Ian's naked form and the way he'd held her panties to his face. It was as if the fabric was a bridge between their worlds, a bridge she hadn't realized she'd been dying to cross.
When she got home, she couldn't help herself. She went straight to her room and pulled the crumpled panties from their hiding place, her heart racing as she brought them to her nose. The scent of him was still there, a musky reminder of the act she'd witnessed. Her hand trembled as she held them, feeling a mix of anger, betrayal, and something else. Something she didn't dare to put into words.
Ivy decided to hide the evidence in the bottom drawer of her desk, where she kept her diary and other private things. Every time she sat down to write, she'd catch a whiff of the panties, the scent of her brother's release a constant reminder of what she had seen. It was a strange, twisted comfort, something she felt guilty for enjoying.
Days turned into weeks, and the play was approaching its opening night. Ivy threw herself into her role, memorizing lines and perfecting her stage presence. The drama club was like a second family to her, and she liked being around people who didn't know her secret.
But the memory of Ian's transgression lingered, like a ghost that wouldn't rest. She'd catch herself looking at him differently, her mind wandering to that moment in their room. It was as if she couldn't get the image of his nakedness out of her head, the raw passion etched on his face as he climaxed.
Ivy tried to be more observant, to catch him in the act again, but he had become too cautious. Every time she walked in on him, he was fully clothed and seemingly innocent. She'd find herself lingering in the doorway, watching him with a mix of frustration and fascination, willing him to make a mistake.
But Ian had become a master of concealment. He waited until she was out of the house, or deep in sleep, before indulging in his newfound obsession. He was careful not to leave any evidence behind, cleaning up meticulously, ensuring that the panties were returned to their rightful place without a trace.
The tension between them grew palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Every time they passed each other in the hall, Ivy felt a shiver of excitement, wondering if he knew she was watching him. It was like a silent game of cat and mouse, each waiting for the other to make a move.
She had to do something. Ivy couldn't stand the constant yearning that had taken hold of her. She needed to know if what she'd felt was real or just a figment of her overactive imagination. So, one day, she decided to take the plunge.
While Ian was out at the library, she took a long, hot shower, letting the water cascade over her body. She knew he'd be home soon, so she didn't dare to take too much time. As she lathered her skin with soap, she felt a strange sense of excitement bubbling up inside her.
When she stepped out of the shower, she didn't bother with a towel. Instead, she let the water droplets roll down her body, tracing the curves of her breasts and belly. She looked at herself in the mirror, her skin glistening like a freshly picked peach. Her hand drifted down between her legs, and she gently touched herself, feeling the slickness that had been building all day.
She knew Ian would be home very soon, and she waited. She wanted to see how would Ian react to the sight of his naked sister.
The sound of the front door closing echoed through the house, and she heard his footsteps approaching. Her heart thundered in her chest as she took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway, the cool air raising goosebumps on her damp skin.
Ian froze in the doorway, his eyes widening when he saw her standing there, completely naked. The book in his hand slipped from his grip and thudded to the floor, forgotten. "Ivy," he croaked, his eyes traveling over her body in disbelief.
Ivy pretended to startle, wrapping her arms over her chest as if she had just realized her nudity. "Ian!" she exclaimed, feigning embarrassment. "What are you doing here?"
But she didn't move to cover herself, instead, she stood still, watching his eyes as they took in every inch of her. She saw the hunger in his gaze, and her own arousal grew. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for.
"I-I didn't know you were home," she stuttered, her voice trembling slightly. "I thought I had more time..."
Ian's mouth went dry as he took in the sight of his sister's bare flesh. Her skin was flushed from the heat of the shower, and water droplets glistened like jewels on her curves. She was more beautiful than any of the elven queens he'd read about in his fantasy novels. His cock stirred in his pants, the memory of her panties and the scent of her arousal suddenly very present in his mind.
Ivy held her ground, her heart racing as she watched the play of emotions on Ian's face. She could see the shock, the arousal, and the fear. She knew she had the power now, and she wasn't going to let it go to waste.
"I-I'm sorry," she murmured, taking a tentative step back towards the bathroom. "I didn't mean to... I just forgot to lock the door."
Ian's eyes followed her retreating form, his mind racing with thoughts he hadn't allowed himself to have before. As she stepped into the bathroom, he saw the curve of her ass and the way the water droplets clung to her skin. He swallowed hard, trying to push the images away, but they clung to him like a second skin.
Ivy closed the door behind her, her heart pounding in her chest. She leaned against the cool wood, her breath coming in shallow pants. The plan had worked better than she could have ever hoped. She could feel the shift in the air, the unspoken tension now thick with a new kind of energy.
Her hand slipped down to her wet pussy, her fingers playing with her swollen clit. She couldn't help it; she was so turned on by the look in Ian's eyes. She had never seen him look at her that way before, with such hunger and desire. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once.
As she touched herself, she imagined his hand instead of hers. What would it feel like? Would he be gentle or rough? Would he whisper sweet nothings into her ear, or would he groan with passion? Her thoughts grew wilder as she moved her fingers in circles, her breath hitching with each caress.
Dinner that night was tense, the air thick with unspoken words and unacknowledged desires. They sat across from each other at the table, their eyes meeting only briefly before darting away. The food was bland, tasting of nothing but the salt of their own anxiety. The clinking of silverware against plates was the only sound that filled the void between them, each bite a silent challenge to the other.
As soon as he could, Ian excused himself and practically sprinted to the bathroom. He had to get away, to clear his head. The image of Ivy's naked body was burned into his retinas, and he couldn't ignore the ache in his cock that had been steadily growing since that moment. He rushed and forgot to locked the door behind him and leaned against it, his chest heaving.
He knew he should feel guilty, disgusted even, but all he could feel was a powerful urge to touch himself again, to recreate the sensation he had felt earlier with her panties. His hand slid down to his crotch, feeling the thickness of his erection straining against his pants. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within him.
With trembling hands, Ian unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock, already hard and eager. He leaned back against the cool porcelain sink, the tiles cold against his skin. He closed his eyes and let the image of Ivy's naked body wash over him, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders, her breasts bouncing slightly with each step she took.
He began to stroke himself, his hand moving in quick, jerky motions. He didn't dare to use her panties again; that was a line he didn't want to cross twice. But he couldn't shake the feeling that she had done it on purpose, that she had wanted him to see her like that. The thought of her watching him, her eyes wide with curiosity, fueled his arousal even more.
Ivy knew she had to act fast. She couldn't let the moment pass without saying something, without doing something. She took a deep breath and silently padded down the hall, the cool floor against her bare feet sending a shiver up her spine. She paused outside the bathroom door, her hand hovering over the knob.
Her heart raced as she turned it, the door opening with a soft click. The sight of him, his hand moving rapidly over his erection, was like a punch to the gut. She had never seen anyone look so vulnerable, so lost in pleasure.
Ivy took a step inside, the sound of her bare foot on the cold tile floor making him jump. Ian's eyes snapped open, his cheeks red with embarrassment. He tried to cover himself, but she stepped closer, her eyes locked on his cock.
For a moment, they just stood there, both frozen in time. The only sound was their ragged breaths, their hearts pounding in unison. Ivy felt that strange excitement again, the line between the two blurring like the steamy bathroom walls.
They looked at each other, really looked, for the first time in what felt like an eternity. Ian's eyes were wide with shock, his hand hovering over his exposed erection, but there was something else in them, something that sent a thrill down Ivy's spine. It was the same hunger she'd seen before, the same desire that had haunted her thoughts since that fateful day in their shared room.
Her eyes took in his flushed cheeks, the way his chest rose and fell with each rapid breath. His cock stood proud and hard, a symbol of his want, and she felt a strange sense of power knowing that she was the one who had brought him to this state.
Without a word, Ian stormed out of the bathroom, his face a mask of anger and confusion. He couldn't believe what he'd just done, couldn't believe what he'd just seen. He stomped down the hallway, the floorboards creaking under his feet, desperate to escape the suffocating tension that had settled over them like a thick fog.
Ivy watched him go, her hand still resting on the doorknob. She felt a strange sense of satisfaction, a feeling she had never experienced before. She knew she had crossed a line, had pushed him into a place he had never wanted to go, but she couldn't help the thrill that shot through her. It was like a switch had been flipped, and now she couldn't turn it off.
The desire for more was a living, breathing thing inside her. She wanted to see him again, to feel his eyes on her body like that. To watch the way his hand moved over his cock, the way his face contorted with pleasure. It was wrong, she knew, but she couldn't help it.
The following day, Ivy made a decision. She had to cross the boundaries she had set for herself. As Ian sat in his room, lost in the world of his fantasy novel, she snuck in, her heart racing with each silent step. She had been planning this for hours, every detail meticulously thought out.
Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the doorknob, the metal cold and unforgiving under her touch. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open, the hinges groaning in protest. He didn't notice at first, so engrossed he was in his book. But when he did, his eyes shot up to meet hers, and she could see the shock, the confusion, the betrayal.
She sat on his bed, her legs curled underneath her. The room was a mess, a stark contrast to the pristine white pages of the book he held. She took in his flustered expression, his cheeks stained red with embarrassment. It was strange, but she felt a thrill at the sight of his discomfort. "Ian," she began, her voice softer than she had intended.
He looked at her, his eyes wide with fear and guilt. She knew he was expecting her to scream, to throw things, to storm out of the room in disgust. But she didn't. Instead, she held out her hand, a pair of black lace panties dangling from her fingertips. "I know what you did with my panties," she said simply, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart.
Ian's eyes darted to the underwear, then back to hers, his expression a tumult of emotions. "Ivy," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I'm so sorry."
She offered him a small, knowing smile, her eyes never leaving his. "Don't be," she said, her voice a siren's call. "It's okay."
She leaned in closer, her damp hair leaving a trail of coldness on his arm. "I watched you," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. "And it was fun."
The words hung in the air, a confession that sent a bolt of lightning through Ian's body. His mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle of her intentions. He had never considered the possibility that she might have known, let alone enjoyed watching him.
Ivy saw the shock on his face and took another step closer. She could feel the heat of his body, the way it seemed to call to hers. "I like watching you," she repeated, her voice a little louder this time, a little more sure. "It's like... seeing someone else's secrets, someone you're not supposed to know about."
Her eyes dropped to his lap, where his erection was still evident through his pants. She could see the pulse in his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Does it excite you?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Knowing that I watched you?"
Ian's gaze followed hers, and he nodded, his cheeks burning even brighter. "Yeah," he croaked, unable to tear his eyes away from her. "It does."
Ivy felt a thrill rush through her, a sense of power she had never felt before. She leaned closer still, her breasts brushing against his chest. "Show me," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Show me what you do."
Her heart was racing so fast she thought it might burst from her chest. The idea was so wrong, so twisted, and yet she couldn't help but crave it. She had seen the way he had looked at her, the hunger in his eyes, and she wanted to be the one to satisfy that hunger.
"We can do it together," Ivy whispered, her eyes searching his for any sign of resistance. But instead of the disgust she had feared, she saw curiosity, and something else—desire.
Ian's eyes grew dark, his gaze flicking from the panties to her face and back again. He licked his dry lips, his hand slowly moving to cover hers, the fabric of her underwear trapped between them. "Together?" he echoed, his voice shaking with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
"Yes," she whispered, her heart racing. "I want to... I need to know."
Ian stared at her, his mind racing. This wasn't right, it couldn't be. But the way she looked at him, with a mix of innocence and desire, was impossible to resist. He felt his resolve crumbling, the dam of his self-control about to burst. "Ivy," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It's okay," she assured him, her eyes never leaving his. "We're just... exploring."
Ian felt his chest tighten, his heart racing as he met her gaze. Her pupils were dilated, her breathing shallow. He knew he should stop, that this was wrong, but he couldn't. Not when she was looking at him like that, not when his body was begging for her touch.
He leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart. He could feel the heat from her breath, the scent of her shampoo mingling with the musk of their shared secret. The world around them faded away until all that was left was the heavy silence and the thud of their hearts.
Ivy reached out and placed her hand on Ian's cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. His skin was rough with stubble, sending a shiver through her. She had never touched him like this before, never felt the need to. But now, it was all she could think about.
Her other hand slipped down to her lap, her fingers toying with the edge of her mini skirt. She had picked it out specifically for this moment, the fabric so thin it was practically see-through. She watched his eyes follow the movement, his pupils dilating even further.
"I'll go first," she said, her voice a seductive purr. She slid her hand under the skirt, her fingers grazing her damp panties. She felt the heat of his gaze on her, the weight of his stare as if it were a physical touch. Her breath hitched as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slowly began to pull it down.
Inch by inch, her skin was revealed, the fabric catching on the wetness of her arousal. She watched his eyes as she did it, watching the hunger grow with every moment. When she finally pulled her underwear aside, exposing her swollen folds to the cool air, he made a noise deep in his throat, a sound that was half-gasp, half-moan.
Her pussy was pink and glistening, her clit pulsing with need. She spread her legs wider, inviting him in. "Look," she whispered, her voice a siren's call. "This is what you do to me."
Ian couldn't tear his eyes away, his cock throbbing in his pants. He had never seen anything so beautiful, so forbidden. He felt like he was drowning in his own desire, unable to breathe. "Ivy," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
"It's okay," she said again, her hand still on his cheek, her eyes locked with his. "We can do this."
With trembling hands, Ian reached for her, his eyes never leaving hers. He took the panties from her grasp, feeling the warmth of her arousal, the slickness of her desire. He brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply, the scent of her filling his senses. It was intoxicating, a heady mix of lust and taboo.
"Now," she urged, her voice a soft command, "it's your turn."
Ian's hand trembled as he unzipped his pants, the fabric parting to reveal his straining erection. It stood tall and proud, a stark contrast to the shyness that usually cloaked him. The tip was red and gleaming with precum, a testament to his arousal.
Ivy's gaze never left his face, the anticipation building as she watched him free his cock. The sight was both thrilling and terrifying, the reality of the moment crashing down on her like a tidal wave. But she didn't look away, didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned in closer, her breath hot against his skin.
He started jerking slowly, the motion almost mechanical, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do next. His eyes darted to hers, seeking approval, seeking understanding. And she gave it to him, her own hand moving to mirror his, her fingers curling around the her clit.
The sight of his sister touching herself was almost too much for Ian. His cock twitched in his hand, the need to feel her skin against his own growing with every stroke. He watched as her fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
Her eyes never left his face, and he felt his cheeks heat with a blend of embarrassment and arousal. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But there was something about her gaze that made him feel... seen. Understood.
Ivy watched, fascinated by the way Ian's hand moved over his cock. It was a dance of pleasure, a silent conversation between flesh and desire. She could see the veins standing out on his shaft, the way the head grew darker with every stroke. It was mesmerizing, a secret she had never dared to dream she would share with him.
"Can I see your boobs?" Ian asked suddenly, the words spilling out before he could think better of it. The moment hung in the air, thick with tension. He had never asked anyone to see their breasts before, let alone his sister.
Ivy's hand stilled on her clit, her eyes widening with shock. She had been lost in the sensations, the heat between her legs, but his question brought her crashing back to reality. She felt a thrill rush through her, a mix of excitement and fear. "What?" she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ian's face was red with embarrassment, but he met her gaze, his hand still moving over his erection. "Your... boobs," he said again, his voice stronger this time. "I just... I want to know what they look like."
Ivy felt a strange mix of emotions: anger, embarrassment, and a thrill she couldn't name. She had never thought Ian would be the one to cross the boundaries even further. But here he was, asking to see her naked body. It was wrong, she knew, but she also knew that she wanted it.
With a tremble in her voice, she whispered, "Okay." She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting the straps fall down her arms. She watched his eyes widen as the fabric fell away, revealing her firm, round breasts. They were a perfect handful, the pink of her nipples tight and erect with desire.
Ian's eyes were glued to the sight, his hand moving faster on his cock. He had never seen anything so beautiful, so... wrong, and yet so incredibly right. He wanted to touch them, to feel their weight in his palms, to taste her. The thought was like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every nerve ending in his body.
Ivy watched the hunger in his eyes, her own hand moving faster over her clit. She had never felt so powerful, so in control. She knew she had to give him what he wanted, had to push him over the edge. With a deep breath, she took her hand away from her pussy and cupped her breasts, her nipples standing tall and proud.
Her thumbs brushed over the sensitive peaks, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. She watched his eyes follow the movement, his strokes becoming more erratic. The tension in the room was palpable, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with their every breath.
Ivy's breath grew shallower as she watched him, her chest rising and falling with each squeeze of her breasts. She knew she had him in the palm of her hand, knew that she could make him do anything she wanted. It was a heady feeling, one that she had never experienced before.
With a soft moan, she pushed her finger into her wet pussy, the sensation of her own slickness making her toes curl. She felt the walls tighten around her digit, her body begging for more. She had never been so wet, so ready. And all because of her own brother.
The realization of her own incestuous desire sent a thrill through her, making her pussy clench even harder. She watched Ian's eyes widen as he took in the sight, his hand moving faster over his cock. He was close, she could tell, his breathing ragged and erratic. She felt a strange sense of power knowing that she was the one driving him to the brink.
"Ivy," he moaned, his voice thick with need. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."
But she was already there, her own orgasm crashing over her like a wave. Her body convulsed, her legs shaking as she rode the wave of pleasure. She watched, fascinated, as Ian's hand moved faster and faster, his hips jerking in time with his strokes. The sight of him, lost in his own desire, was too much to bear.
"Cum in my hand," she breathed, her voice a whisper. It was a dare, a challenge she wasn't sure she wanted to win. But the words were out before she could take them back, hanging in the air like a question mark.
Ian's eyes snapped to hers, his hand still moving over his cock. He had never been this close to the edge before, and the thought of finishing in his sister's hand was both terrifying and exhilarating. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening with each stroke.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within him, but the sight of her hand, open and waiting, was too much. With a guttural groan, he gave in to the sensation, his hips bucking as he came, thick ropes of cum arcing through the air to land in her outstretched palm.
Ivy watched, her own breath hitching, as he emptied himself into her hand. The warmth of his release was shocking, the reality of the moment hitting her like a slap in the face. She had never felt anything like this, never been so close to the raw, primal need that lived within him.
Her hand trembled slightly as she brought it closer, the scent of their shared desire filling her nose. She hovered for a moment, unsure if she should go through with it, then finally made contact. Her fingertips brushed lightly against the head of his cock, the slickness of his cum coating her skin.
Ian's body jerked at the touch, a moan escaping his lips. He had never felt anything so intense, so wrong, and yet so incredibly right. He watched as her hand moved, her thumb tracing the slit in the tip of his cock, spreading his seed.
The smell of his cum was faint but unmistakable, mingling with the scent of their shared arousal. Ivy brought her hand to her nose, inhaling deeply. It was a strange, musky scent, one that filled her with a sense of power and excitement. It was a part of him, a part that she had taken, claimed as her own.
Her eyes remained locked with Ian's, the silence in the room stretching out like a tightrope they both balanced on. She could see the confusion in his gaze, the mix of pleasure and guilt that mirrored her own feelings. But she didn't look away, didn't let the reality of what they had just done overwhelm her.
"You can keep my panties," she said finally, her voice a soft whisper that seemed to echo in the small space. She watched his eyes widen, his hand still wrapped around his now-softening cock. The words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the new boundaries they had crossed.
Ian stared at her, the reality of the situation crashing over him like a wave. He had just cum in his sister's hand, watched her masturbate, and now she was giving him her panties? It was too much, and yet he couldn't find it in himself to refuse. He took them, the fabric still warm from her body, and held them to his nose, inhaling deeply. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, a drug that filled his senses.
With trembling hands, Ivy got to her feet, her legs weak from the intensity of her orgasm. She straightened her skirt, her breasts bouncing slightly with the movement. Ian couldn't help but watch, his eyes drawn to her curves like a moth to a flame. She knew he was still hard, could feel the tension radiating from him.
"I'll go take a bath," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned and walked out of the room, her hips swaying in a way that was both innocent and seductive. Ian stared after her, his mind racing with thoughts of what they had just done.
<