It starts with a test

Hannah has relaxed somewhat, but still wears an expression of understandable disbelief. She makes a show of looking at your face and then asks, “Are you sure? I mean this is pretty out there. This is really ok?”

To avoid pressuring her decision one way or the other, you keep your response short and neutral, “I promise this is fine.” You smile back at her, continuing your soothing caress.

Her gaze returns to your chest, but takes on a look of contemplation until she comes to a decision. “If you’re okay with me seeing your boobs right now,” she strains out, “then maybe you could, y’know, touch them?” She winces, most likely nervous about having immediately overstepped.

“Like this?” you reply, executing her request with your free hand. There’s not much to work with, but you do your best to pose like any of the myriad porn pictures of this variety you’ve seen in your life. You end up with your right hand curled around your right breast, pushing up what little flesh is there. Hoping that sells it, you glance down. There is evidence of success; the once meandering fingers in Hannah’s underwear have started to pick up the pace a bit.

“Y-yeah, that’s it, grope your sexy fucking tits” your flustered subject mumbles. After she has a moment to process her own words, her trance-like state gives way to hurried backpedaling. “I mean– sorry! That came out wrong.”

“It’s okay” you cut in to stop her spiraling. “Believe it or not I’ve suspected my big sis might find me attractive for a while now” you tease. You start pinching your nipple as you continue, “I’m just glad you’re enjoying the show.”

It seems another idea has already popped into her head and stolen her attention. Desire heavy in her breath, she pants out, “This is sorta like a lap dance, huh?”

Taking it in stride, you offer that “it could be more like one…” and immediately get a vigorous nod in response. Your hands depart from their respective softness and onto Hannah’s shoulders. Gripping her there lets you lean in close, and since you don’t weigh much, it shouldn’t be a problem for her. With your tits right in her face, she ratchets up her self-stimulation. Her breath gets heavy and she even lets a moan slip out.

At this proximity, you can smell her sweat and dampness more powerfully than the perfume she has on. “Your body is so amazing. You’re like this perfect glass ballerina. I can’t imagine wanting anything more than this.”

You lose yourself at those words. Pressing your torso closer to hers, you moan out, “mmm, I’m your fragile baby sister. I’m a forbidden toy you’ve always wanted to play with but never could.” You leave out the part where as soon as the toy propositioned her, she discarded her morals. Nothing can compete with her taboo desire.

When your nipple comes close enough that she could touch it just by puckering her lips, she has a similar thought. “Kiss me, Sis” she begs. A part of you wants to show your gratitude, for asking so you don’t have to initiate. Her lips are right there, you could just go for it, if only that single action wouldn’t have a thousand ripple effects.

Between an app you can’t explain and all the high intensity conversations this past day-and-a-half, you want some time to consider the ramifications. Plowing through milestones of intimacy just because you’re hot and bothered could be disastrous. One step too far might shatter every bit of control over your life that you’ve been working for.