TABOO TALES(erotica)

She stiffened as the first wave of orgasm rolled through her, her eyes closed and her head thrown back as she rode it out, mouth open and breath sobbing , and as she rode it I did it again, harder, and she stiffened all over again, her face a rictus as it took her even harder this time, and when I pointed my tongue and pushed it suddenly into her tight little anus, she came like a thunderbolt, her eyes snapping open as she wailed in orgasm and her back arched, her body trembling and shuddering as wave after wave of sexual release pulsed and thundered through her as I rimmed her, her juices flooding out of her with sufficient force to spray across my face and neck, and her anus constricting with the strength of her orgasm and forcing my tongue out.

She slumped back on the bed, her pulse fluttering in her neck as her orgasm flared and curled through her, limp and unresisting as I took her ankles and raised them high, pulling her legs straight and leaning over her to hold her legs wide open, her knees level with her shoulders as I leaned down and slid my throbbing cock into her in one long slow push, penetrating her as deep as I could go.

Her eyes snapped open at this invasion, widening as I leaned down further, pushing her legs even further up and raising her pelvis off the bed to begin pumping into her as hard and as fast as I could. Nia locked her arms around my neck and used me for leverage as she pumped back at me, moaning and sighing as she ground herself onto me, her pussy alternately squeezing and releasing me as she tightened and relaxed the constrictor muscles inside her soft little pussy, milking me as I hammered into her.

I couldn’t take much of this, the sight of my beautiful sister, her fabulous eyes fixed on mine as she moved against me, the sensations inside her body, all combined to bring about my orgasm. I climaxed with a deep groan, ears popping as my spunk boiled out of me in long, satisfying ropes, spurts of semen jetted deep inside her, and as I came, her orgasm broke against mine, her gasping moan of fulfilment counterpoint to my own as we came and came together, bodies pumping as we wrung the last scrap of sensation from each other.

I released her legs, Nia letting them fall on either side of me as I backed out of her, curls of orgasm making her clench and gasp as I withdrew my still hard cock from her, feeling her stomach fluttering as her inner turmoil slowly stilled as I dropped to the bed next to her, chest heaving and heart pounding in my ears, fighting for breath as my pounding heartbeat slowly subsided and my hearing returned to normal.

Nia rolled over to face me and gently caressed my face, then pulled herself closer and kissed me, once, tenderly.

“Jamie, I told you the first time we ever made love that I had always belonged to you, and that I was waiting for you to claim me. Now it’s my turn, and I claim you, for always and forever, you will always be mine, my darling Polar Bear!”

I was surprised to see tears in her eyes, and held her as I wiped them away with my thumb, then kissed each eye in turn, then her nose, then stuck my tongue in her ear, making her giggle. I had long forgotten that Nia was my half-sister; now she was only the girl I was in love with, and who was in love with me, and her solution to our admittedly minor problem, how to get married, was elegant and well thought-out. Devious, and definitely borderline illegal, but I was proud of her ability to think her way along a problem and find a solution that worked, a talent UNICEF had spotted early, which was why she’d been drafted-in straight out of university, a most unusual move on their part, but a tribute to the ability and potential they saw in her.

The bag she’d carried back from the restaurant was on the night-stand, and I reached over and gave it to her.

“Tu as oublie votre Cadeau, Mademoiselle!” I grinned, trying to impress her with my schoolboy French.

Nia grinned at my efforts, and, looking intrigued, peered inside it, and took out a gold gift-box about 4 inches square and 2 inches high. Smiling, she opened it and gasped, her eyes welling up. Inside, tied with a red chiffon ribbon, was a delicate heart moulded out of fine chocolate strands, on a purple plush base, from Jean-Paul Hevin, a Paris chocolatier.

“Look, Jamie!” she smiled, “it’s a Coeur Dentille, a sweet box, with chocolate bon-bon’s inside! I’ve heard of these, but this is the first I’ve seen, how beautiful! And how sweet of them to give it to me!”

We slept that night the sleep of the happy and fulfilled, no dreams to disturb us, our minds at peace with the world for the first time in what seemed like forever.

We awoke early; Nia had a long day of sightseeing and shopping planned, and wanted to make an early start. We spent the morning being all touristy, going to all the main attractions, Montmartre, the Luxembourg Palace, home of the Senate, and the Jardins du Luxembourg, that I remembered from when ‘The Three Musketeers’ was my favourite book as a boy, the famous scene where d’Artagnan meets and challenges Athos, Porthos and Aramis to meet him for a duel one after another in the Luxembourg gardens, and their duel is interrupted by the Cardinal’s men. I had been to Paris, or through Paris, several times, but never as a tourist, so I was looking forward to seeing some of it.

We went from there on a criss-cross route that Nia had devised to see all her favourite places in order of importance to her, so we went from there to Saint-Germain-des-Pres, then L’Academie de Paris, Pont Neuf, Montparnasse, Place des Vosges, then the Pere Lachaise cemetery to see the tombs of Abelard and Heloise, Modigliani, the great Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde, and Edith Piaf, all heroes of hers for one reason or another.

We lunched at Cafe Procope on rue Ancienne Comedie, a place that the maitre had recommended, and watched the tourists; intense groups of impassive, unsmiling Japanese, haggard and weary but doggedly following their guidebooks, tired American families following the mother around, ‘coffee, please!’ written all over their long-suffering faces, huge chattering Chinese tour groups, and coach loads of Germans, all trying to see in 4 days what many Parisians haven’t seen in a lifetime, and we watched in awe as the Parisian women, all effortlessly casual in Balenciaga and Balmain summer dresses and impossibly stylish footwear, sauntered along, well aware of the impression they were leaving in their wake.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

After lunch, we went to see Notre Dame Cathedral, walking inside in silence to view the gigantic medieval solar window and the high altar, the jewelled stained glass reflecting on the flagstones of the Apse. After an hour of this, Nia decided that shopping was now her priority, and the best place for that was the Faubourg Saint-Honore district, because she wanted to stroll through the designer stores, pretending to be wealthy enough to afford any of it, then actually shop for real on Boulevard Haussmann, where she’d have her pick of grands magasins, department stores.

As shopping is a closed book to me, a thrill I hope to avoid to the end of my days, I came along mainly as bag carrier and moral support, I didn’t want anything, nor did I actually need anything, but Nia was developing Paris Syndrome, so I thought I’d better keep an eye on her…

We eventually got back to the hotel at 6 pm, dumped the several dozen (all right, I’m exaggerating — a little, a very little) bags and cartons she’d picked up visiting every store on Boulevard Haussmann, and took our time to shower and dress, then go the restaurant I’d booked, on Avenue De Wagram, a short walk from the hotel, another traditional French restaurant.

We spent the evening in the company of Coquilles St. Jacques, Buckwheat crepes, Cassoulet, confit de Canard, and tarte au chocolat, with as much semillon as we felt we could safely drink. I enjoyed watching Nia eat, whether delicately picking apart duck legs cooked in clarified butter or digging into the rich garlic sausage of the Cassoulet, or watching in fascination as they cooked the crepes for us at the table, and she certainly enjoyed the wine! We were heading back home the next day, I’d really only brought her here to propose, and I wanted her last evening in Paris to be memorable.

The rest of the time I’d asked her to take was so that we could be together, at home, alone, for a little while. I’d been gone, on one trip or another, for most of the last four months, and I hadn’t had more than a couple of days in a row with Nia in weeks, plus I’d not actually had a vacation of any note since my eighteenth summer, so 6 years of work and study entitled me to a week or so of lounging around with my girl, and I intended to make full use of it.

Back in our room, I undressed, then helped Nia out of her dress with my usual finesse i. e. whipping it off over her head so I could ogle her, and then grabbed her so I could squeeze her boobs as I pressed Jamie jr. into her firm, sexy little bum.

“So Miss, soon to be Mrs. Morrison, did you enjoy your trip to the City of Love?” I whispered in her ear, gently pinching and twirling her nipples, making her giggle and gasp as the tickling and the arousal fought over her. Nia hooked her panties, pushing them down and wriggling her hips to let them drop, kicking them away to stand as naked as me.

“Oh yes, kind sir,” she breathed, “I’ve never been on a dirty weekend before, you’re such a bad man, what will my mother say, you’ll have to marry me now!”

I could hear the grin in her voice, and held her close to me as I began licking the back of her neck, nibbling her shoulder, kissing the base of her throat. She began rubbing against me, forcing herself against my erection, her hands holding my sides to hold herself in place as she gently slid her buttock cleft up and down on my cock, the warm firm globes of her bum enveloping my hardness and exciting me further.

Nia spun around in my arms and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close and kissing me, before pushing me backwards onto the bed with a giggle, landing on top of me. My hands immediately went to her tight little buttocks, holding her as she kissed me some more, just for good measure.

She scrambled off me and slid herself into the middle of the bed, grinning at me, crooking one finger at me, so of course I followed, scooting up next to her and once again holding her as I kissed her. My hand strayed to her nipples again, gently tweaking and twirling them as we kissed, Nia squirming gently as she became aroused. I dipped my head down to lick and suck at her nipples, grazing them lightly with my teeth and sucking them into hard little points, my hand now drifting down to dip a finger into and scratch lightly at her navel, making her gasp, before moving down further to slip down the moist crease between her labia, caressing and rubbing gently, stimulating them and feeling them swell and begin to part.