Wild Sex Tales(Erotica)

Further, a lot of the city is built for winter, and most of the older buildings don’t have air conditioning. Mine certainly didn’t. Some people put in a window A/C, but my apartment had only the one window, in my bedroom, and there wasn’t any space for it. The machine would have to rest on my bed. The result? My tiny place turned into a toaster oven. And my sister and I were like two wilted slices of bread.

We didn’t make any agreements about it, but we slowly started wearing less clothes around the apartment. Jennifer would get home and go down to a tank top and shorts. I changed into boxers and a t-shirt as soon as work was over. We sat on the couch together, ate together — we didn’t have a choice — and we both showed a lot more skin.

About a week into the heat wave, ten days after I’d shared my secret, Jennifer broke the silence. We were bingeing some Netflix show and a sexy scene came on. We watched without a word, but I could feel the tension ratcheting up. When the episode ended, I stood up and announced I was going to bed.

“Are you going to go read?’ Jennifer asked, seasoning that last word with a saucy smile.

“Are you?” I asked, challenging.

Jennifer blushed. “I looked at a few things,” she said, going from teasing to innocent so fast it nearly tipped me over. “Honestly, there’s so much. It’s hard for me to know what to look at. I felt kind of overwhelmed.”

I could understand that. I’d been reading that site for so long it was easy for me to find what I wanted. But, as a newcomer, faced with literally millions of options, I could see feeling out of my depth.

“Well, there’s a few ways you can find the popular ones,” I said, “Look at stories that have been read a lot or that have high ratings. That kind of thing.”

“Could you maybe, um, recommend some?” Jennifer asked. She bit her lower lip, and it was so sexy, it nearly sent me to the moon. But her request was, clearly, out of the question.

“That’s a little too private,” I said, “Also, I doubt what turns me on would work for you. You know?”

Jennifer gave me a pout. “I know. I wouldn’t be, like, judging or anything. I just think it would help me. I mean, I’m not even sure I know what ‘good’ is.”

“If it gets you off, that’s good,” I said, smiling.

Jennifer shook her head at me. My sister and I were both in little more than our underwear, talking about porn. I was stuck between slightly weirded out and totally turned on. Thus, once again, I found myself trapped.

“I’ll find you some stuff,” I said, resigned, “You’ll have to take it from there, though.”

Jennifer clapped and cheered like a little girl. God, she really was a little girl. Barely even in her twenties. Another reason for my raging libido to back off. Like I needed another excuse.

“Thank you so much, Matt. It means a lot to me.”

“Just remember,” I said, “Reading something doesn’t mean doing something. You know?”

Jennifer quirked an eyebrow at me, confused.

“OK, like, if I read something in a story and it turns me on, you know that doesn’t mean I want to actually do it. Right?”

“What exactly are you sharing with me?” Jennifer asked, she sat back like she was appalled, but I knew she was still playing around.Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Come on,” I said, “You know what I mean.”

“If the story is about orangutan sex, that doesn’t mean you want to do it with an orangutan,” Jennifer said.

“For example,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Jennifer’s face got serious. She put her hands on mine. “I get what you’re sharing with me is private. Secret. You’re basically telling me what turns you on. It means a lot to me that you trust me with this. It won’t change how I feel about you in any way. I promise, I won’t judge.”

Mollified, I went back to my room and picked out two of the most vanilla stories I could find. There was other stuff I liked a lot more, but these were solid, and they were safe. I copied the links and texted them to Jennifer.

“Thanks!” she sent back.

Two hours later, I was still wide awake when I got another text.

Jennifer: Those were good. Could you send more?

Something about the fact that it was a text made the request feel less invasive. I guess not looking my sister in the eye took a lot of the pressure off. I wrote back, like this was a casual conversation.

Matt: Anything in particular?

Jennifer: Shrug emoji.

I decided to take a different tack. This time, rather than pick safe, general stories, I chose a bunch of different categories and sent my favorites from each. One was romantic, about a couple falling in love. The next was about a wife who sleeps with another man. Another had a husband bringing in his best friend for a threesome. I chose one that had some bondage (not my thing, but I picked a story that was highly rated). I sent a Lesbian story and a Gay male one (again, I relied on the ratings). I linked a story about watching two people have sex in the woods, and one about a girl riding a sybian for the first time. I skipped two categories: nonconsent and incest. As much as I trusted my sister, I wasn’t ready for that level of risk.

After I collected everything, about ten stories in all, I wrote one last text.

Matthew: Standard disclaimers apply.

Jennifer: Understood. Thx!

Despite looking at all those stories, I wasn’t in the mood to read them. Instead, I crafted a bunch of work emails, then turned out the light. As my head hit the pillow, I swore I heard something that sounded like a long, low feminine groan.

The next morning, Jennifer was chipper as a cartoon chipmunk. She made me breakfast, pancakes, humming to herself the whole time.

“I guess my texts worked last night?” I asked. I couldn’t help it. I knew I should be discrete, but I had to know.

“Like a charm,” Jennifer said. She gave me a goofy grin, then kissed me on the cheek.

I had a long day and came home exhausted. We’d ordered dinner at the office, so I went straight to bed, stripping down to my boxers. It was too hot for pajamas. Honestly, it was too hot for boxers, but I knew from past experience I needed to be decent, just in case.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, Jennifer knocked on my door. She sat down on the end of the bed, eyeing me nervously. I gave her a moment to settle before I asked her what was bothering her.

“The stories you sent last night,” she said, “They were really good. Like, really really good. If you get my meaning.”

I did, but I didn’t think it was appropriate to ask my little sister for more details.

“I was kind of hoping you could send me some more. I’m not, like a freak, am I? A sex fiend or whatever?”

“No, of course not,” I said, “You found something you enjoy, that’s all.”

“Thanks,” Jennifer said, “I know I’m asking for a lot.”

“It would help if you told me what was, um, working for you,” I said. I waited for my sister to stop the whole conversation, or at least pause. Instead, she rolled right into it.