Come Home (The Full Moon Party: Chapter Two)
The vacation was over, but I still ached for my brother Chris...
This is the second installment of The Full Moon Party. Once again, this is a longer story format so that I am able to convey all the events as they unfolded. Enjoy.
I never felt quite the same after returning from Koh Phangan, after those two weeks that I spent with my brother Chris. The night of the Full Moon Party in Haan Rin had been just the first layer of our newly emerging sexual connection. During the days that followed, many new layers would be peeled back. Things intensified and there was much to explore. We stopped looking at each other as brother and sister, and instead we were like lovers that knew we were living on borrowed time. The crowds at the resort where we were staying had disappeared overnight after Full Moon. Most of the tourists in Koh Phangan had chosen to make that party the climax of their vacation and were leaving the resort in droves to continue their travels. This suited us perfectly, because I quickly found the climax of where we were about to go to was only just beginning.
We spent a few hours in the late afternoon every day, relaxing on the beach away from the tourists that had remained. We lay as close to each other as we could on our beach towels with our toes buried in the sand, face down. Our faces would remain just inches away from each other. Every so often he would run his fingers up the back of my leg, lingering on the swell of my ass, a mischievous smile on his face that I would quickly mirror back. It felt so strange to be laying there with him after four years of being apart. He felt like a completely different person to me now. I could barely remember the image of the mop-haired older brother that used to fight me for control of the TV remote when I was still a little girl in pigtails. He was a man now, and reminded me so much of what our father had looked like around the time he’d walked out on our family when we were kids. We were both green eyed and fair-haired but with complexions that tanned well. The warm bronze of our skin was deepening with each afternoon that we spent under the hot Thai sun, listening to the sounds of the ocean and the soft whoosh of palm trees swaying in the wind.
Occasionally after checking to see that nobody was watching, he would rise up on an elbow and lean over to steal a kiss or two. And then when we couldn’t stand it any longer we would run back to our beachfront cabin, barely getting the door closed before his hands were on me, pushing me up against the wall. His hands would slip under my ass, lifting me up so that we were the same height. I would feel his hard-on pressing urgently against the tiny fabric of my bikini that covered a pussy that was always ready and wet for him. The teasing was relentless until I would be begging my brother to, please god, fuck me and stop the ache he had started that night when we had first made love. But he would just kiss me harder in response, his tongue exploring my mouth as I hungrily sucked it in, desperate for any part of him to find a way inside me. I could feel the hard bulge of his cock rubbing against my pussy through the swim clothes that separated us. He seemed to grow harder with every moment that passed. My legs would be clutched around his waist, my hips instinctively moving against his. My intense need to be filled by his cock was growing ever stronger. And then after all this teasing he would gently set me to my feet before falling to his knees.
By then I would be so wet that my string bikini bottoms would be soaked, with my juices running down my inner thighs. And it was these juices that he was after. His long tongue would lick the slippery wetness while I whimpered with delight. He would lick through my bikini bottom, sucking them gently into his mouth as though not wanting to miss a drop of what he wanted most. And then, when I couldn’t stand it any longer, he would slide his tongue around the fabric to tease my slit before thrusting it up inside me, freeing the wetness for his eager mouth. I would moan, as would he, as though tasting something he was starving for. I would move against his mouth slowly. Every movement seemed to drive him wild, as his tongue would buck upward to stay buried as deeply in my pussy as he possibly could.
Often we never made it to the bed, because soon I would be on my knees in front of my brother, kissing him hard, wanting to taste my own juices on his lips. Later he would tell me he had never had a girl so eager to taste and touch and explore with such abandon. But these were the best sexual experiences of my life. I wanted to smell the scent of our sex, taste my juices on his cock after he came inside me. I loved the heat of his skin on mine that would soon leave us wet with sweat. Even then, I wanted to taste his salty skin as I ran my tongue along his chest and neck. There was nothing off limits with him. It was a sexually hedonistic kind of union that we shared. I wanted to try everything and so did he.
Every night, the soft whir of the ceiling fan was the only noise, other than the heavy breathing between us, and my moans as I felt him behind me, thrusting into me and fucking me first slowly and then harder and harder until the headboard of our bed was rocking against the wall. We were primal enough in our ‘sexploits’ that the headboard had left visible marks in the plaster by the end of our holiday. Everything my brother did to me felt so good. After we’d both come several times, and after we were exhausted and had enough of what the other could give, I would lay on my side, with him spooning me from behind, wrapped tight in his arms. Our final moment of love making for the night would often end in this position so that he could leave his softening cock still soaking in the juices of my pussy as we rested, often falling asleep like that. I wanted to feel him buried inside me until my eyes would close and I would drift off to sleep, feeling satisfied, warm, and loved.
It wasn’t until the final days of the trip that we really started to address the fact that we would be returning to separate worlds. I would be going home to Canada, and he would be flying back to Australia. It felt odd to be acknowledging this kind of reality. We had spun the perfect cocoon for ourselves in Thailand, not thinking about the future or the consequences of the slippery slope we had been sliding down with gleeful abandon until then.
We sat on the beach on our last evening together feeling a sad kind of remorse… not about what had happened between us, but about the fact that our passion play was coming to an end. And this brought with it a need to somehow justify our fate.
“It’s probably best this way Lindsey,” he said, unable to meet my eyes. “I mean what are we really doing here anyways? You’re my sister. And I’m your big brother. I was supposed to be looking after you on this trip. God, imagine what Mom would say if she knew…”
I looked out into the darkness, rationally understanding that our parting was inevitable, but still not wanting to submit to it. “So that’s it?” I asked finally. “This is the end? We both go back to our own separate ends of the world and pretend that it never happened?”
He sighed heavily. “Honestly I don’t know what other choice we have.”
“But to me this just seems too good to end. Too natural. Like it was meant to happen. We were apart for four long years. And now you’ve made it so that I feel like I need you.”
He held me in his arms that night, consoling me with kisses, as we touched and experienced each other for the last time. I cried all the way to the airport the next day. In that moment I would have done anything to stay with him in whatever way possible. If it was a sin, then let us sin, I thought to myself. What care was there of consequence when I was only 18 years old and a long way off from wanting marriage and children and all the things that made being with my brother impossible in the long run. But fate had chosen an uncompromising path for both of us.
I returned (reluctantly) to Canada. We talked on the phone and emailed to make the distance seem smaller. But things were changing fast in my life. I had left home for the first time to move into residence at university to do my bachelor of fine arts in contemporary dance. There were things to pack, courses to prepare for, and a lot of long gruelling days in the dance studio. Months were beginning to pass, and the memory of my time in Thailand was starting to become more separated from my daily life. It was like a dream, albeit still a very vivid one when I went to sleep at night in my dorm room. I would often lay there in the dark, sliding my fingers in and out of my aching pussy just imagining it was my brother’s cock thrusting up to find my wetness. Many nights I could pretend that he was there beside me. But by morning, I would put the thoughts from my mind.
I didn’t date anyone for several months, making the other girls in the dorm weary of me. They couldn’t quite believe I wasn’t down for the drunken fuck-fests they had with the frat boys. How could I tell them that I was deeply frightened that I had accidentally fallen in love with my brother? Someone that I could never really have…
Eventually, closer to Christmastime, I did start dating again. My new boyfriend Evan was a guy that was in a graduate program and lived off campus in a nice condo not far from the school. I can’t say much about the relationship other than it filled the void. The sex we had was fairly standard, and there was a monotony to it that came faster than it should have. He liked things fairly vanilla and I knew the pattern of the sexual script he preferred like the back of my hand. First we would kiss for a few minutes, then he’d suck my breasts, moving down for a quick pussy licking. Then I’d suck him into my mouth, but my enthusiasm was often minimal after the sorry way he performed orally, as though it was a duty he’d rather skip altogether just to get to the fucking. Thinking back, I’m not sure what caused me to agree to move in with him after the New Year, other than how annoying and juvenile I found dorm life to be. That, and how much I had always hated being alone.
In fact I found myself quickly wishing I hadn’t made that kind of commitment at all, because, in March, I got the email I never would have expected in my wildest dreams. Chris was coming home for good! I remember sitting in the computer lab reading this email, and immediately feeling myself getting wet just reading those words. That familiar throbbing started inside me as my imagination took me to all kinds of places. I emailed him back straight away. We hadn’t talked much in our communications about our time in Thailand and he hadn’t referred to it in his email, But I knew it had to be on his mind as well.
And then I got cold feet. What if he had resigned himself to the fact that it was over... just a moment in time? And then I was shaking my head, feeling foolish. After all, wasn’t the past better left in the past? Did I really want to rip the scab off an old wound and suggest we start things up again? It could lead nowhere that would end well.
I kept my response friendly, asking him to call me when he arrived. The school that I was attending was several hours from our mom’s house and I suggested that he come and visit me first. I asked Evan if Chris could stay on our sofa bed for a few days while he visited. Yes, I know that was purely evil of me to ask my boyfriend if he could stay with us, given the true nature of my history with Chris. But to Evan, Chris was only my brother. And I realized in my logical mind (which was working at that time!) that it was important for all of us that things were kept that way.
Time passed quickly, and just a few short weeks later Chris was there, standing in the doorway of the condo. My mouth went a little dry when I first saw him, not knowing how I was supposed to react. The last time I’d see him, we’d been fervently making out in the resort lobby while waiting for my taxi to arrive.
Awkwardly I reached out to hug my brother, while Evan stood nearby waiting for his introduction. Inadvertently, I felt my nipples stiffen just being pressed for a moment against his chest. I could smell the fresh woody scent of his cologne and it quickly brought me right back to that beach in Thailand. My pulse quickened. He brushed his lips against my cheek before releasing me, obviously respectful of the new dynamics of our situation. Not to mention my new boyfriend who was patiently standing behind me. I introduced them, trying to steady my thoughts and refocus. ‘Stop the madness Lindsey,’ my mind warned. ‘Leave the past alone.’ We had dinner together and found all kinds of safe, neutral subjects to talk about such as my studies and dance classes and Chris’ last few months tying up loose ends in Australia. I still couldn’t believe he was home. The way he had always talked before, Sydney was his perfect city and he couldn’t imagine ever returning to Canada. He still hadn’t given me a straight answer as to why he was back.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t unnerved by the way he looked at me when Evan had his back turned. Right or wrong, all I could think about was finding a way to feel him inside me again. I kept staring at his sensuously shaped mouth, remembering what it felt like against mine. And when I casually glanced at his hands while he was talking, I was thinking about how delicious it had been when those fingers would slide in and out of me, teasing my clit, and running along the outside of my slit, down to my asshole, circling the rim before pushing in first one finger, then two, stretching me open, lovingly and patiently to later make way for his hard cock.
My memories were making me so wet, I actually had to go to change my panties in the middle of dinner. Suddenly I was not at all feeling confident about what I really wanted anymore.
I did try to make an effort to stay the virtuous course, which is exceptionally difficult for a pleasure-loving hedonist like me. We finished dinner, and started drinking. Chris and Evan were laughing and getting along well. I was sitting quietly in a nearby chair, downing glass after glass of wine to steady my nerves.
At the end of the night Evan ended up more drunk than either of us and stumbled off to the bedroom, calling for me to follow. I told him I’d be there in a minute and got the pillows and blankets ready for Chris who was folding down the sofa bed. It creaked and groaned as it opened up, much like I wanted to groan while I watched his round ass in his tight jeans as he bent over to adjust the bed. Then he turned to me, and I realized I was just standing there stupidly clutching the spare pillow and blanket. He smiled at me… a half smile with a bit of a resigned sadness.
“Thanks Linds,” he said as he took them from me.
I drew in my breath “Do you… need anything else…?”
There was a long pause as so much emotion passed between us. His hand reached out to brush back a long strand of my hair and silently, and with reluctance, he shook his head.
“You know it’s best if we just go to sleep,” he said softly.
Feeling somewhat dejected I was forced to turn on my heels and walk away to the bedroom. But I could feel his eyes following me with every step.
I changed into my blue baby-doll nightie and climbed into bed with Evan, who had already passed out and was beginning to snore. Which was just as well… I had no desire for his amateur lovemaking that night. I turned on my side and tried to get some sleep. This proved to be a challenge that I was not able to win. I tossed and turned for an hour, then two, listening to Evan’s incessant snoring, and staring forlornly at the clock on the nightstand.
Finally at 3am, I thought that maybe I needed a glass of warm milk to help me sleep. Or maybe I was trying to legitimize an excuse to walk back out into the living room where Chris was sleeping. It was like the little devil on my shoulder whispering to me. And I was too weak to resist such urges.
Soon I had slipped out of bed, carefully padding barefoot down the hallway to the open-concept kitchen overlooking the living room. For a moment, in the darkness, I saw some motion on the sofa bed… a kind of stirring under the covers, like a rhythmic jerking motion and then a pause. I could just make out the outline of Chris’s sleeping form. His strong bare chest was rising and falling quickly, but not from sleep. The sheet was pulled down near his waist, and I could see his arm and the hand that, from under the sheet, had a firm grip on that gorgeous cock that I craved. His head turned to one side, startled to see me. I just stood there, frozen in place , clad only in that skimpy blue nightie that was almost transparent. The moonlight, filtering in through the open windows, bathed me in a silvery glow, and I knew he could see right through the fragile fabric. My nipples rose up hard as pebbles under the intensity of his gaze, and my breath caught in my throat.
As though drawn by an invisible string I walked toward him. Finally I was standing at the edge of the sofa bed, looking down on my brother, with my knees turning to jelly. Just one more time, my mind was quickly justifying. Just this one last time, and then never again.
His hand reached out to touch my bare leg, and I quivered at his touch. He caressed my thigh, up and down, ever so softly, just staring up at me, while his other hand resumed stroking his cock under the thin white sheets. I was transfixed as I watched his hand moving up and down his swollen shaft, and my mouth watered at the thought of taking the place of that hand.
His fingers had found their way to my inner thigh and carefully they slid upward until they found my aching pussy, sliding in and around my slit, before dipping into my wetness. I pushed against his fingers until they were up inside me as far as they could go. And then my brother finger fucked me, in and out, to the same rhythm as he stroked his cock.
I stifled my moans, breathing harder, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. His thumb was manipulating my clit, rolling it and rubbing it, increasing the speed and tempo of his thrusts until I came in waves all over his fingers. My legs were shaky and visibly trembling.
“Where is Evan?” he whispered in a choked voice, still stroking his hard-on.
“Is he a sound sleeper?”
My brother lifted the sheet that was over him, peeling it back to reveal how hard and throbbing he really was and then took my hand, inviting me into the bed.
I threw a glance back at the closed bedroom door, praying that my boyfriend would not wake up and end up stumbling into the living room to find us. Actually I’m not even sure how much I really cared, other than the fear that he would publicize my secret on campus if he found out. But, as I looked at that long hard cock glistening with precum, my desires quickly took over, and, if discovered I just figured ‘deny, deny, deny!’.
I slipped into the bed with him, and he was eager to kiss me properly after all our time apart. His lips moved over mine, sensuously, before they opened so that he could softly suck my bottom lip into his mouth. Our tongues finally met, and I felt myself melting into him.
I could already feel his hands on my ass, squeezing and caressing, and then slowly peeling away my little blue g-string, down over my trembling thighs, until they had slipped past my toes.
Gently he guided me on top of him until his head was between my knees, and I could settle over the length of his body in the sixty-nine position. The little baby-doll nightie that I was wearing was as light as a feather and just happily slid up around my waist, making way for his hot hungry tongue as I lowered my pussy over his face. Oh! It felt so good. I realized how much I had missed that tongue, and the way it loved to explore every juicy fold, before diving into my wetness as though he simply couldn’t get enough of me. With his first touch, it was all I had in me not to come right there all over his face.
I turned my attention to his hard cock. I ran my tongue along the slit, teasing, before encircling the head with my lips, sucking the sweet taste of his pre-cum into my mouth. Tasting him just made me wetter. Unable to resist any longer, I slid the length of his shaft deep into my mouth, taking in as much of him as I could until it hit the back of my throat. I sucked him up and down, faster and faster… and then slower when I felt him pulsing too hard in my mouth. I wanted us to come together. We struggled to contain our pleasured moans; fearful that Evan would walk out and catch us!
It didn’t take long however before his delicious tongue-lashing had me grinding against his face. His arms were under my thighs and his hands clutched my hips, eager to pull me down against his face, not wanting to miss a drop. Suddenly I could feel his cock jerking in my mouth, nearing climax, and I increased the strokes of my mouth over his shaft. I was coming hard, gushing hot juices all over his mouth. I could feel the clenching of his body pressed against mine as he came, filling my mouth to the brim with his warm slippery cum. I loved the feeling of it running down the back of my throat as I swallowed every drop and licked his ultra sensitive shaft clean.
We both shuddered from the intensity of our climax, and I turned around to slide up so that we were face to face. He kissed me. We could taste the sweetness of our juices intermingled.
“Oh god,” he murmured. “That was so good. I know we didn’t talk about it after we left Thailand, but you have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about you. I get so hard every day, remembering how hot it was between us back then.”
“I thought a lot about you too. And Evan is just so…”
He smiled mischievously. “Boring? Yeah, I figured he might be.”
“I just hate being alone.”
“Well, I’m here now, right…”
His hand moved to cup my breast and I felt it swell with his touch. His thumb teased my nipple until it was so hard it could cut glass. He pushed the strap of my nightie down off my shoulder to expose it to his eager tongue. My hand slid up the back of his neck to twine in his hair, while he suckled at my breast. Again, I threw a quick glance at the bedroom door. I could still hear the dull sound of my boyfriend’s snoring. Relieved, I turned my attention back to my brother.
Soon I was stroking him hard again. I loved how fast he could get hard. And I was dying to feel him inside me. I pushed him back against the sheets, and straddled his body. Slowly I lowered my pussy, still slick with juices, onto his hard, thick cock. As I descended, inch by inch, I was in ecstasy. I could almost come again just from the feel of having him buried inside me. He reached up to grab and pull on my nipples as I started to ride him. His hips were bucking up to thrust into me, meeting my every move, deepening our penetration. I was breathing hard, trying desperately to stifle my moans.
After our lusty fucking in the beach cabin in Koh Phangan, where we had damaged the wall with the force of the headboard slamming against it, it was difficult to contain the intensity of our lovemaking this time around. The sofa bed was old, and the mattress was creaking and groaning mercilessly. We tried to find ways to temper our movements, but it was getting louder and louder. And while I was nervous about waking my sleeping boyfriend, I knew I definitely needed to feel a good pounding from my brother Chris. With his cock still buried inside me, he picked me up and got off the bed. I was clutched around him, smothering a laugh at how frantic we both were to find a new location. Somehow we ended up in the bathroom where we could close the door and lock it, just in case. Now, I know there would have been no excuse for why we were in the bathroom together should Evan have knocked on the door. Chris was stark naked, and my g-string was still on the sofa bed. But there is very little logic and rationality when you are in this state, so desperate to fuck as hard as you can.
He set me down and turned me around roughly before bending me over at the waist. I arched my back and thrust my ass out, eager for him. I used the counter to steady myself, and waited for all the pleasure. With a groan, he plunged that long, hard cock back into my pussy, really driving it home. There was a small nightlight on and it was incredible to watch our reflections in the mirror, this sex crazed brother and sister that simply couldn’t get enough of each other. My long blond hair was a lusty mess, half covering my eyes in my need to get pounded harder and harder by his raging cock. I could see his intensity as our eyes locked on each other in the mirror, watching every thrust jiggle my breasts deliciously. It was like watching our own sex tape but without the actual camera. We must have gone on like that forever, completely fascinated with the images reflected back in the throes of such heat. I could feel his restraint; trying not to come too soon; trying to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible. After all, without having really talked about where things were going, who knew for sure which time might be our last?
His hands reached around from behind to find my clit, teasing it and stroking it as he continued his long steady thrusts. My pussy was literally dripping wetness down my thighs. When his fingers were suitably drenched, he moved them up to my lips where I greedily sucked them into my mouth, tasting my own juices. I was so hot for him. I wanted to release the loud moans that had built up from the heat of our sex play. I was almost to the point of not caring what my sleeping boyfriend might hear. All I could concentrate on was the deep pleasures of the moment at hand. As if sensing I was nearing climax, Chris kept his fingers in my mouth where I sucked them like a baby, preventing me from making too much noise as he began to really fuck me… hard and fast, pumping in and out while my breasts bounced wildly. Each thrust drove us both over the edge, in waves of ecstasy, while we both came together, and he filled me up with hot thick cum. We were both breathing hard, trying to steady ourselves, and feeling weak in the knees. Finally and reluctantly, he pulled out. I could feel his cum dripping from me, enjoying the sweet fullness of my pussy. I would have liked to have gone back to bed with Chris, and stay cuddled in his arms until sunrise. But, of course, Evan’s presence made that impossible. We cleaned ourselves up in the bathroom, and kissed one last time.
“So…” he said finally, an exhausted smile on his face, “that was incredible…yet again.”
“Somehow it always is,” I agreed.
We went back out into the living room, where I retrieved my little blue g-string. I lovingly tucked my big brother back into bed, leaving a lingering kiss on his lips and then returned to the bedroom that I suddenly dreaded. I crept in as quietly as I could, and closed the door again behind me, feeling my way through the darkness to the bed. I slipped under the covers just as Evan was stirring awake.
“Hey babe… where were you?” he murmured sleepily.
For a moment I was startled. And then I put my head against the pillow. “I just went out for a warm glass of milk. Go back to sleep.”
I heard him yawn and turn on his side, obviously without any further concerns.
And then I just lay in bed and replayed the excitement of everything that had just happened. I could still feel Chris’ slick juices inside me, and the sweet ache left by all his thrusting. I already knew that I would be skipping classes that day. Evan would be in the student lab until late, and Chris and I could be alone. And I could continue doing everything that a good sister should…