My Special Heat:>Ep10

"Of course I do, you're my sister." "Not love. Love."

"I don't think so," I said, after some consideration. To be honest it wasn't all that clear cut. Love isn't a switch that's either on or off. There are all sorts of in-between spots we don't have words for. I didn't feel about Betsy what I thought love would feel like (I wasn't naive enough to think I'd ever been in love with any of my previous girlfriends), so I figured I was probably OK saying 'no.'

"Right," Betsy said, "It's functional. You're keeping me warm, that's all."

And so I let my little sister triumph. Like I said, I was rooting for her to win. Besides, I was moving out of the house in a few months anyway. So even if things were progressing a bit further than they should, it wouldn't matter for too much longer. What's a bit of oral between blood relatives, after all?

Betsy's smiled, warmly, but then she shivered. "Good. Because I need another dose before I freeze to death."

We both lay back on the bed. I pulled the covers over us. Betsy nestled in the crook of my shoulder. I tilted my head and kissed her. I assumed, if it was all transactional as my sister claimed, that she would start pushing me to produce my precious fluids. Instead, though, Betsy lay back and let us share in each other.

I tried to think of a time when I'd felt this connected, this safe, with another human being. I'd been close with Melissa, yes, but it was only a physical adjacency. My previous girlfriends had been high school trifles or after party hookups, nothing even worth considering. This was on a totally different scale from either of those experiences.

Because it was Betsy, the girl I'd grown up with, we already had that emotional connection. I wasn't caught up in my concerns because our relationship was already well-defined. Concurrently, that closeness should have also made the physical aspect more upsetting. But whatever unnatural, naughty feelings our make out session brought out in me, they only amplified the experience. Heightened it. Like the difference between acoustic and electric. Everything was just more.

down my bare chest and straight down the front of my bottoms. She grabbed my dick, commanding, and hummed into

"And he seems like he's more than ready to come out and play. You want to do that

a response, Betsy pushed my pajamas down. I kicked them the rest of the way off. Now I was completely naked in bed

that point, I couldn't complain about our outfit imbalance. She could have kicked me in the shins and I wouldn't have said a word. My sister didn't just suck my dick, she worked at it. Put the job blowjob I suppose. She wasn't satisfied to repeat the same actions from before, either. She added all new possibilities and permutations -- kissing, licking, nibbling -- like trying to figure out every potential trigger. All the while smiling, happy and hungry. Like I'd introduced her to the

I gave

"Bets, I'm almost..."

if my words were obvious and inevitable. I guess

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She grunted and coughed on the first blast, but happily gulped the rest as I emptied myself. The ecstasy was wonderfully familiar, yet freshly intense. Betsy sat back on her haunches and wiped her chin. Then she wrapped her arms

out, still

as she rocked herself back and forth. "I swear I can feel it like a

(hopefully not too loudly) in

"Bran, what are you...?"

could get hold of and ripped it down her legs. Just like that, Betsy was bare from her waist

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