The perfect shape

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Iris & Robert 2: The perfect shape

Author’s note: This is not a story to wank to; if anything, you might find it quirky when compared to other stories. If you came here for sexual gratification, you’re likely to be disappointed. There is sex, of course, but it’s not the main focus.

This is the second chapter of five in the story of Iris and Robert, continuing from where ‘Making me complete’ left off, although the story stands on its own. It’s written in UK English, and uses a bit of British colloquialism, but nothing that would make it difficult to understand.

All characters in this story are exceptionally good-looking except where mentioned, and solely a product of my imagination. If you think there’s a resemblance to your own life, please get in touch with me; it’ll save me the trouble of having to make everything up.

***

When I woke up, I was momentarily confused. I wasn’t in my bed. Why wasn’t I in my own bed? Why wasn’t I wearing any clothes? And why on earth was Robert sleeping next to me, equally naked?

Then I remembered. It was the day after. The day after Robert and I had had our romantic dinner. It had been our third date, so afterwards we slept on the sofa bed, getting a duvet to cover ourselves.

How had this happened? As I lay staring at the ceiling, my thoughts went back to the past week. It has been my idea, that we should date one another, because whom else could we trust? It sort of made sense at the time, even though I wasn’t exactly convinced myself, and Robert even less so. But in the end, we ended up naked and, not to put too fine a point on it, did the deed.

The first date, we’d gone to the park to feed the ducks and have a picnic. The second date, we went to see a film –a romantic comedy, my favourite genre– at the cinema. And the third date was the romantic dinner. This would normally be nothing out of the ordinary, if it weren’t for the fact that Robert is my twin brother.

The truth of the matter was that I had fallen in love with him. With Robert. With my brother. And not just the sort of love that you have for your family, or even for your twin, but also the kind that starts with ‘do you come here often?’

I looked to my left, at him. His features were so delicate, almost feminine. I’ve never been fond of the masculine type, and I don’t know what possessed me to let that wanker try and chat me up. Well, I did, actually. The desire to be desired had been so strong that I ignored my natural reservations and distrust, and believed in the fairy-tale. Almost, he managed. Almost, he would have been my first. And he would have unceremoniously dumped me afterwards. But now, my first lay sleeping next to me.

As if our condition wasn’t enough complication in our lives, we now had added incest to that. And it had been my idea. Great going, Iris. I’m very good at thinking straight –it’s one of the aspects of Asperger’s– but I hadn’t quite thought of the consequences.

What to do? You can unscrew a lightbulb, but you can’t unscrew your sibling. Things had changed forever and we would have to find some way to deal with it, or it would surely destroy us. I sighed, completely at a loss on how I was going to handle this situation.

He looked so peaceful, which was not a look he often had. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. We would be bonded our whole lives anyway, but in what capacity, that wasn’t entirely clear at the moment. Could I stay with him and live as a couple? Did I want that in the first place? And did he?

His hair-shoulder-length, not nearly as long as mine, was spread out around his head like a halo, and combined with the soft down on his cheeks, there was something vaguely saint-like about him. I smiled at that: he certainly was no saint, and neither was I.

Saint Iris, patron saint of women that sleep with their brothers. It would be a difficult sell, so much was certain.

He hated shaving, not necessarily because of the same hypersensitivity that we both experience when we have our hair cut. He probably just couldn’t be bothered with the effort, and with pulling a sharp blade across his skin, so he shaved maybe once a week, if at that. I didn’t mind, though, it made him look a bit more adult, and less like a boy. Combined with the ponytail, he had the look of a rock star – minus the doting groupies, that is.

My goodness, he really looked cute. If it weren’t for his disastrous social skills –like mine– he’d have to keep the girls away with a bargepole. So that was rather fortunate, because from now on, any such girl would have to deal with me first.

I had realised that I was in love with him when we had our dinner yesterday. He had actually made an effort to look presentable, and he had stared at me in open admiration. That could have had to do with the fact that I had been wearing a dress to accentuate my figure, something that I had never really done before.

I needed to invest a bit in skirts and dresses and tops, and decided I would shop kartal escort bayan online later that day. Whereas before I wanted to be like Robert, now I felt the desire to embrace my femininity and accentuate the differences. It only made our bond stronger.

As we’d sat at the table yesterday, we’d held hands and looked one another in the eye. I knew, one way or another, that he’d been experiencing the same emotions. That mix of uncertainty, of what was going to happen, but also the knowledge that right there, across the table and holding my hands, was the one person who was happy just to be with me.

Another hint that I was in love was that I thought his nose was cute, and his ears were cute, and his mouth was cute, and his… well, ‘cute’ was perhaps not the best way to describe it, because in contrast to the rest of him, that part had been impressively masculine. Who would have thought?

That took my mind back again to yesterday. It’s said that first-time sex is often awkward, and we had been no exception. We even had to consult a checklist of what to do. His fingering me had been nice, though. Being brought to orgasm without being in control was both scary and exciting. I like to be in control. It makes things predictable, and I like predictable. A lot. But to let go of that control, with the person I trusted most, had been liberating.

Then, he had penetrated me. And although I had my doubts at that time that I’d be able to orgasm easily from getting fucked, having him inside me and being as close as we would ever get, had been mesmerising. I could even tell just before he orgasmed, because his penis felt differently inside me, growing and pulsing.

I wasn’t so sure about the mess it left inside of me. I don’t deal with mess very well, and it took quite a bit of effort to not run away and wash immediately. And in a way, I had him still inside me; if not in person, then in residue. Somehow, it felt to me like it was an indispensable element of the sex act. All the emotions and bonding aside, depositing semen inside a woman is the essence of coitus, isn’t it? Well, to me it made sense.

Turning on my side, I supported my head on my hand, and kept admiring him. My hair slid down, spilling over the pillow, and the duvet slid off my chest. No matter; it was summer, and I didn’t feel cold.

He stirred a bit. It looked like my Prince Charming was waking up. He yawned, eyes still closed, and stretched his arms, giving him boyish body a bit more definition to it. Strange that I preferred men that weren’t, as you’d call it, typically male. Maybe it was because of how Robert looked so much like me? He is the same length as I: he is a bit shorter than the average adult male, whereas I’m a bit taller than average woman.

As children, we had looked so much alike, that people used to think that he was a girl as well, until our mother started dressing me in super-girly outfits, like frilly dresses. I’d hated those. I wanted to be like Robert, and wear jeans and T-shirts. That’s one reason why I compensated later in life, wearing decidedly non-girly outfits. We had been very similar, except for that one little thingy. Well, not so little anymore these days. And where he had mostly retained his shape, just a bit larger, I had filled out, in particular around my hips and my chest. In the end, I’m a girl, and wearing the blue dress yesterday had been a great success. Something to keep in mind.

Meanwhile, next to me, Robert opened his eyes, and looked into mine. ‘Ciao, bella,’ he said.

I smiled at that. Always the charmer, my brother.

‘Hey handsome,’ I said. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Yeah, like a baby,’ he said. ‘I must have been really tired.’

‘Oh poor thing,’ I teased him. ‘He had to work so hard last night.’

He grinned at that. ‘Yeah, I got to do the hard work and you had all the fun.’

I gave him a playful push on his chest. ‘Hey! The way I remember it, you weren’t complaining!’

‘And neither were you, dear sister, or were you?’

‘Oh, I suppose it was OK,’ I replied with exaggerated feigned indifference.

We loved to do these little tit-for-tat games, although now of course, they had a whole new dimension to them.

‘Just OK? So you don’t mind either way whether we do this again or not?’

I busied myself studying the ceiling. Actually, the lamp needed some cleaning. The spiders had been busy. ‘You know as well as I do, Robert,’ I told him, ‘that you’ll be begging for more before the day is out. What’s a woman to do, eh? Lie back and think of England.’

Robert lost the plot there. ‘What’s England got to do with it? We’re not in England.’

‘It’s an expression,’ I told him, gently patting his hair as if he were a small child. ‘Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.’

‘But what does it mean?’ he asked.

‘What it means? To bang. Shag. Hump. Romp. Getting your leg over. A bit of how’s your father.’

His expression hadn’t really changed; escort maltepe if anything, it became more confused. It was probably a good indication that he wasn’t quite as familiar with slang terms as I was.

‘To fuck, Robert. It means to fuck. Coitus. Intercourse. Copulation. To fornicate.’

That, at least, rang a bell. It also had the undesired side-effect of bringing his one-track-mind firmly back on the topic of sex, whereas I’d wanted to discuss some important matters with him. His gaze left my face and moved down my body about 30 centimetres, or a foot for the metrically impaired. Yeah, he was a man for sure. Flattering, of course, but the wrong subject unfortunately.

‘Robert,’ I said, ‘I think we need to talk. I mean, yesterday was wonderful and I don’t regret what we did, but it has changed everything. We kind of need to decide how to take it from here. Normally people date and have sex, then they move in together, and then they stay together for the rest of their lives. We did it the other way around. We’re already living together and whatever happens, we can’t ignore that we’ll always be siblings.

‘So yeah, what’s next for us? Are we going to share a bedroom? And if so, whose? Are we going to be, like, a little family? I’m confused. I love you so much, even more than before, and I want to always be with you, but we’re not making things very easy for ourselves. What do you think?’

No answer was forthcoming. ‘Robert?’ I asked. Still nothing.

I realised that he hadn’t heard a word I said, because he was still looking at my boobs. Trust him to be able to focus on only one thing at the time, and trust me not to notice, for that matter. Both on our own little planet again.

‘Robert? Houston calling Tranquillity Base. Anybody out there?’

Nothing. Bloody useless. I tend to wave my hands about when talking, which made my boobs jiggle, and he was staring at them like a cat at a goldfish.

‘Robert? Robert!’

‘What?’ he said, awakening from his reverie.

‘I said, we need to talk. What are we going to do?’

‘Have sex again?’ he asked. He got a silly smile on his face.

For all his mental ability when it comes to computing science, my brother can be as thick as a brick in regards to a fairly large number of other subjects. This was one of them. I briefly considered swatting him with a pillow, but thought better of it.

‘That’s not what I meant! You and I, are we a couple now? We haven’t exactly thought this through, have we?’

‘Well, it was your idea,’ Robert pointed out.

‘But you were all too happy to stick it in me, weren’t you?’

He had that sheepish smile again. ‘Honestly, Robert, this is serious.’ I made an expansive gesture that could mean the room, or the entire planet. That was a mistake. His gaze was firmly back on my chest again. I lifted the duvet and looked at his crotch. No surprises there: he was sporting an erection.

It stroked my ego that I had this effect on him. But this was going to be pointless: unless I got his mind off sex, we weren’t going to have our all-important talk. But how?

The answer was actually very simple, once I gave it some thought. And that thought was arousing as well, I had to admit to myself. If he could only think of sex –as a man, he probably couldn’t help it anyway– he should get it. And what person would be more suited to give it to him than his sweet sister? I recalled the bullet list of things to do. First, we would kiss. Then we’d do some mutual stimulation. And finally, I wanted it in me again.

I moved over to him, snogged him hard, and grabbed his penis at the same time. He was startled at first, but soon enough kissed me back and went for my boobs. That was nice. I was careful, though, not to overstimulate him with my wanking. After all, I wanted him inside me, after a little bit of foreplay that is.

‘How’s that?’ I asked him.

He stared at me with wide open eyes. ‘Nice,’ he replied. ‘Really nice.’

‘Glad you like it,’ I smiled, and continued kissing him.

So we kissed, and it felt great. I explored his lips with mine, gently sucking on them. I used my tongue to touch his teeth and lips, and did a little wrestling match with his tongue. I sucked on it, and he returned the favour.

‘Oh my goodness, sis, this is nice,’ he said when we had to pause for breath. ‘I like it when you play with me.’

Hey, I didn’t mind either. I just loved the solid feel of him in my hand. That thing, that I never had, was mine now. Only mine. My precious.

Robert was somewhat clumsy playing with my boobs. I made a mental note that I’d have to train him. Right now, though, my pussy was aching for attention. With my other hand, I took one of his and guided it towards my crotch.

‘Put your fingers in,’ I managed to moan between kissing, and he did. Good boy. I could feel that I was getting wet, and increasingly turned on. But it was too much fun to play, and being played with. Robert was moving pendik escort his fingers in and out, but he was probably afraid of hurting me, for he was too gentle.

‘Harder,’ I told him. ‘A lot harder.’

My dutiful brother complied and I was in heaven. There was just the right amount of friction. If only he moved a bit up…

‘Move your fingers a little bit up. There there there!’

I couldn’t help moaning, it felt so good. He was touching me in just the right place, and I was still pumping on that lovely penis of his. I tried kissing him again, but there was too much going on at the same time, so instead I just held him close and pressed my boobs into his chest.

I shifted a bit and placed my nipple right at his mouth. He got the hint and started sucking on it. This was getting really good, with his fingers in me and him sucking my nipple and my hand gripping his penis. I was beginning to understand why people always made such a fuss about sex.

It didn’t take long before I realised that I really needed him inside me right there and then. I broke the embrace, pushed him on his back, and straddled him. ‘Leave this to me,’ I told him.

Robert just lay there, staring at me with his mouth open. I took his penis and guided it to my entrance, which was well lubricated at this point. I teased him a bit, and myself, by rubbing the head across my pussy lips. Very gently, I let his penis spread my lips, nudging it a little bit inside. It was time.

‘Ready?’ I asked him.

‘Towel?’ he asked.

‘Sod the towel. Are you ready, or do I need to get someone to help?’ I asked, squeezing him to make my point.

He made a nonsensical sound that I took as acquiescence.

‘Here we go,’ I said, and let gravity take hold. His breath was almost knocked out of him as I took his entire length inside me in one go. It certainly had that effect on me.

‘Ooh,’ I moaned from the sudden penetration and the sensation of fullness. I looked down to where our bodies met, and his penis had completely disappeared from sight. It made me feel all tingly, knowing that he occupied my pussy entirely.

Yes, I definitely liked getting shagged. It felt far better than any of my vibrators, but unlike yesterday, this time I was in charge. I let my brother get used to being inside me to the hilt, our bellies touching, and my boobs dangling in front of him. He was transfixed. He was mine.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I started moving my hips back and forth, his penis moving in and out, in and out, just a little bit at first. The friction and the fullness were nice, and being on top, I could control the angle and the depth. Picking up on speed meant increasing the sensations as well. I could get used to this.

We were going faster now, and he rubbed wonderfully against that special spot just inside my pussy. He started to meet my thrusts, but that messed it up for me. ‘Stay still,’ I told him.

Just to make sure that he didn’t do anything else silly, I folded my lower legs over his thighs, and pinned his arms down as well. He was completely immobile now. I picked up some more speed and increased the length of travel of his penis going in and out.

Soon enough, I was mostly upright. My hands rested on his chest now, to give myself a bit of support, while I moved up and down on him, almost letting his penis slide out of me, only to slam back and have him impale me. And slowly, but surely, I felt the beginning of this familiar feeling in me. If we could keep it up for a bit more…

But then I felt him growing and pulsing inside of me, and with a pang of regret I realised it was not to be, at least not this time. His orgasm was imminent, and I kept riding him until I felt his body become rigid. My senses heightened, while time seemed to slow down, and I could feel the rush of his semen up his urethra.

Pulse.

I held my breath…

Pulse.

I closed my eyes…

Pulse.

My hands clawed his chest…

Pulse.

It felt even wetter and hotter inside me…

Pulse.

Silence.

I let out my breath again, but kept my eyes closed. We would have to practise this, so he would learn to hold back his orgasm. A lot of practice.

He made a mess inside me again, and although it still freaked me out, it wasn’t as bad as before. I could get used to getting fucked, so I would have to get used to this as well.

Robert had a look on his face, like he’d just run into a wall or something. Or maybe it was ecstasy. Even though I knew him better than I knew any other person on the planet, he still wasn’t exactly an open book to me. But the way he looked made me happy. Having an orgasm myself would have been delightful, but right now, I savoured the intimacy, and I needed to hug him. I bent forward, resting my body on his, hearing his panting breath, feeling his heartbeat that was still doing over 150 beats per minute, putting my head next to his, taking his shoulders in my hands. It was as close and intimate as we would ever get. The moment was ephemeral, his penis slowly deflating inside me. But for those few fleeting seconds, we were one.

‘How was that, little brother?’ I asked him. I like calling him that. After all, I’m a full 15 minutes older than he.

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