The first and only. (Forbidden topic is present)

[Marion]

(Marina Darkevich, fragment from the novel "Autumn Lightning")

...Olga went to the window and looked after Tolik, who was approaching his motorcycle. A teenager turning into a man... Basically, at a close age, Olga remembered Vlad, her brother, whom his father took with him to his homeland in Mukachevo after a divorce... Vlad was born a year later than Olga, and as is expected in such cases, was often forced to be under the tutelage of his older sister. At least, until he slightly violated the laws of nature and prematurely blossomed into a handsome, broad-shouldered young man, quickly catching up with Olga in development. And this while her classmates, for the most part, still remained boys among their peers, who were rapidly turning from ugly ducklings into beautiful (and not so beautiful) girls. Olga studied herself in the mirror several times every day, amazed at the lightning-fast changes. She liked them... and they scared her a little, I must admit.

Vlad also twirled in front of the mirror from time to time, meticulously studying his face. A burning brunette, much darker than his sister, with a premature mustache and slightly bulging eyes, he was somewhat reminiscent of the canonical image of his famous namesake - Vlad the Impaler, Count Dracula of Transdanubia. What his sister did not fail to tell him about one day. The brother expressed indignation outwardly, but in his heart - and Olga quickly realized this - he liked this comparison.

The young man generally liked his sister’s attention. Perhaps remembering the times when he was under her care, Vlad often boasted to Olga about his achievements even in high school (and he studied well, perhaps being the best in the class in this regard). At the same time, he was quite pugnacious, which is why behavioral assessments invariably did not give him the opportunity to become the first in academic performance. He never missed the opportunity to show Olga his “battle” scars, observing her reaction every time. And she... She liked this unbridledness of her brother, his impudence and strange greed in his eyes. The greed for life, apparently, is inherent in her to the same extent.

It was one of these traces of a youth fight that once led to what happened later... and even dragged on. This happened on a weekend afternoon. The parents went off somewhere together, and Olga, hearing her brother’s dissatisfied swearing, hurried to find out what was wrong with him.

In fact, a typical youthful trouble happened. Vlad fought with someone and, apparently, quite harshly. Apparently, he was hit in the chest with some kind of vile weapon, like brass knuckles or a lead, because his shirt was crusted with blood and stuck to his body under his right nipple. “What a blessing they didn’t hit me in the face,” Olga thought, but her heart sank. The brother hissed in pain, trying in vain to unfasten the buttons. As it turned out, in addition to everything else, his right hand was very swollen after the return blow, and therefore it was impossible to take off his shirt.

Olga, seriously alarmed, bluntly began to help the young man, despite his weak but proud resistance. The sister led her brother into the bathroom, turned on the warm water with a gentle stream, forced Vlad to bend over the bathtub and, carefully moistening the fabric hard with dried blood with a sponge, gradually began to free the young man from his damaged clothes. Vlad at first hissed and twitched slightly in pain, then fell silent and froze in a calm stance, resting his hands on the far tap of the bathtub. It so happened that Olga leaned over her brother, pressing her hips against him and touching his back with her chest. With both hands she finally opened her shirt, pulled it up, and began to carefully wash the blood from the wound. Vlad suddenly took a deep breath... And only then did Olga realize that between her slightly hardened nipples and her brother’s bare back there was only a thin fabric; not expecting the immediate return of her household, she was lying on the sofa with a book in only a cotton robe on her naked body.

Vlad suddenly removed one hand from the edge of the bathtub and put his palm on hers, while she stroked his chest. “It’s probably all right now,” he muttered uncertainly. Olga straightened up and took a step back. Vlad also straightened up. The abrasions on the chest looked unpleasant, but... not that bad. Blood oozed slowly from the wounds, but there was certainly no threat to his brother’s health. Judging by his face, he didn’t even remember the fight. His eyes fell on his sister’s chest, whose robe was slightly wet in front, and he raised them with difficulty, meeting Olga’s gaze.

“I’ll bring a plaster and a bandage now,” the sister said and left. from the bathroom. Her heart was beating so hard that the pulse was echoing in her temples. She realized what kind of contact had just happened between her and her brother, and she realized that Vlad also realized this.

Of course, this was not the first physical contact between nima. You can, of course, remember how in elementary school (one might say - in a past life!) Olga helped her mother bathe her little brother. But that child and the current guy with the mustache were two completely different people.

And about a year before this fight there was a kiss on the lips (this was done by my sister on my brother’s birthday).

And two months ago they somehow hugged, tightly and tenderly, but as if on the run, although Olga felt the bulge of the penis with her pubis. Who initiated the hug? I can’t remember anymore. As if it happened by itself against the backdrop of some general delight or pleasant surprise.

And something was happening now... And while Olga was rummaging through the home medicine cabinet with slightly trembling hands, she remembered, that her underwear in the drawer is not exactly the way she folded it the day before. Someone was touching him, touching him, stroking him... She understood who did it. But I didn’t feel indignant. Hearing her brother’s steps behind her, she began to feverishly think about what to do if he now came up and put his hands on her... On her shoulders.

He put his hands on her waist. But not at this time. And a week later, when they were discussing with nervous, excited laughter, how last weekend Olga, apparently remembering her childhood years, decided to give her brother a bath. What happened next, Olga remembered in a fog. There was touching. And not just at the waist. He caressed her, stroking her hips and chest, and she raised her chin and felt timid kisses on her neck. She kissed him on the lips herself. Already half-open, damp, not like a couple of months ago. The phone call made the young people recoil from each other and look at themselves as if from the outside with slight surprise: “Are we really here and now?”

A week later they were lying on the sofa and kissed, sticking their tongues into each other’s mouths. And they had no clothes on - both realized that hugging and cuddling naked was immeasurably more pleasant. A few minutes before, they had tried, slightly hysterically, to explain to each other that the adventure a week ago had happened by accident, out of stupidity, that it should not happen again, because it was wrong, bad, immoral and even mean to each other. Words didn’t help. On this day, Olga saw a male orgasm for the first time. The brother, eagerly looking at her naked body (or rather, what she dared to show him by spreading her legs wide), rhythmically massaged his penis until, with a groan of pleasure, he splashed out a long milky-white stream. Olga felt how at that very moment her hips involuntarily shuddered, moving her body forward... and from that moment empathy almost never left her (although the girl learned the word itself and what it meant later).

But she herself did not cum in front of her brother that time. And not even the next one. Although I tried. Olga came to orgasm only if no one was looking at her, when she was hiding in the dark under a blanket, and such bizarre images flashed through her head, words for which probably have not yet been invented in any language in the world. But it happened anyway. When they, without saying a word, extended their hands towards each other. Olga grabbed the penis, wonderfully hard and tender at the same time, and felt her brother’s fingers tenderly touching her vagina. With her free hand, the girl guided the guy’s fingers and set him the desired rhythm. She herself began to do what she had seen more than once. And then it really happened to her. When Vlad’s breathing became intermittent, the space between Olga’s legs seemed to begin to fill with a large warm wave, which could be both subtle and slightly sharp. Sister and brother breathed almost synchronously, bowing their heads low towards each other. Vlad came a little earlier, shooting sperm upward. Two or three warm drops fell directly on Olga’s lips, she involuntarily licked them off with her tongue, and at that moment she was covered. She screamed loudly, threw up her head and froze for a couple of seconds, like a statue personifying the peak of passion. Then she moaned, trembled all over, and lowered her head. Vlad began to remove his fingers from her crotch, but the girl grabbed his palm and returned it back, where she held it until she stopped shuddering and until her breathing returned to normal.

Basically this was almost the last time brother and sisterbehaved so openly with each other. Probably, both really understood that new steps towards deepening sexual intimacy could lead to irreversible consequences. Olga decided for herself that this was so. The brother assumed that they had received enough from each other. At least that’s what he said out loud. And indeed, in the following months they no longer saw each other naked, let alone provoked each other into erotic adventures. Sometimes, of course, they kissed. On the lips. But nothing more.

And then - the parents’ divorce, Vlad’s departure. And only deeply hidden memories remained, which many brothers and sisters will probably have - Olga read about this on some forums (aware, of course, that most of such stories are just unrealized fantasies).
But one day father and Vlad came to Olga. The occasion was more than sad - forty days from the death of my mother. Her father’s previous visit, when the funeral took place, dragged on for ten days, and Olga never tired of sincerely thanking her dad - without his support and help it would have been much more difficult for her. Even despite the genuine participation of other relatives, primarily my mother’s sister and her husband. Vlad could not arrive then, but he has arrived now... It is better for us to omit the events and words inherent in the sad occasion in order to immediately move to the day before the departure of loved ones to distant Mukachevo, which by that time had become a distant foreign country. It so happened that in the evening my father decided to see old friends. There was some drinking, and Victor told the children on the phone not to expect him until the morning. Only Vlad remained in Olga’s apartment. Closer to midnight, he went to the kitchen, where he spent the night on a folding bed (the more comfortable sofa in Olga’s room was occupied by his father, so to speak, by seniority). But not even a quarter of an hour had passed before brother and sister collided in a dark corridor. A second later, she took his hand and led him into the room, to her bed. No words were needed. Olga said only one thing when she had already taken off her nightgown and tenderly kissed Vlad on the lips twice, taking his face in her hands:

– This will be our first and only time.

[in the]

But she herself didn’t come in front of her brother that time. And not even the next one. Although I tried. Olga came to orgasm only if no one was looking at her, when she was hiding in the dark under the blanket

and what, someone considers this writing a work of art?

[Marion]

So, does anyone consider this writing a work of art?

Everyone has the right to express their opinion. And ask questions. And not answer them either.

[Profixx11]

What is this about? is too deep and subtle, not everyone will understand.