A Thing to Cling To

  • Posted on August 21, 2017 at 3:16 pm

By GrandMoff

{ This story was originally posted at the now-defunct Sisters in Love }

14 May

Dear Diary,

Where do you go?  Where can you turn when you’ve got a crazy, freaky dilemma like mine?  What can you do, and who can you confide in, when you realize (as I have today) that you’re in love with your own sister?  I’ve never been attracted to girls, but suddenly, there it is.

I don’t know when it started. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I fell. Today is the day I awakened.

My stupid car died again while I was at work. Of course, I called home, but Dad wasn’t around so I thought I was stuck. Then I heard Amy asking Mom to give her the phone. She asked me (in that adorable concerned voice) what had happened. When I told her, she said she thought she could fix it, so she’d come on up to my store.

I knew she liked cars, but I didn’t know how much.  I was curious, maybe a bit skeptical.

She arrived like twenty minutes later. There was a lot of mist hanging around; it was a grey day. She opened the hood and set to work, doing whatever she was doing, and it started raining about a minute after she started. She just laughed it off and continued. I stayed out in the rain with her, because it was my car, after all.

In a little while, she told me to try it, and the car started right up. I got back out of the driver’s seat to thank her.

There she was, glowing with triumph, the only bright spot in a dreary world. Her dyed magenta hair was hanging in loose, wet curls.  She had a couple of smears of grease on her threadbare flannel shirt (which was buttoned with only three buttons.) The shirt was tied to show her abdomen. Her tight jeans were very dark blue and snug, thanks to the rain.

I can’t believe I’m writing this.

Anyway, my loudmouthed brain told me how sexy she looked.  Needless to say, I turned beet red at the thought. Luckily, she didn’t notice. Unluckily, there was a reason she didn’t. She said something like, “Um, sis, I can see your nipples…”  Sure enough, my white blouse was drenched and transparent. I grew even redder, and I didn’t really know why. For some reason, I was embarrassed. I shouldn’t have been, right? She’s my kid sister, not some hot guy.

Continuing, once I got home, I treated her to my famous chicken casserole. I kept thanking her for her help. She hugged me and said that, for me, it was no problem.

She hugged me… and it wasn’t like any hug she’d ever given me. I mean, it was, but I reacted different. I got a little stiff, though I tried to be natural. Could she tell?

I just can’t believe that I’m… in love with my younger sister.


15 May

Dear Diary,

What should I do?  When I saw Amy this morning, I knew that the feelings I had yesterday weren’t a one-time thing. She walked into my room asking if I’d seen her beige sandals. She was only wearing a towel! I’m sure that she knows something’s up. She’s a really smart girl; I was in a no-win situation. If I’d looked, I’d have stared. Obvious. Instead, I didn’t look. Just as obvious.

I can’t imagine how disgusted she’d be if she knew my thoughts. I’ve got to get her out of my mind. But how?


16 May

Dear Diary,

I took her to school today. It was like a war in my head. It started when she asked me for a ride because she was low on gas. She was wearing white shorts and this cute pink sleeveless top. I didn’t want her wearing that to school; I almost told her to go change. I can’t believe that I was jealous just because of her outfit.

So we got into the car. In about ten seconds, that sea breeze perfume of hers was driving me nuts.  I looked over at her. Those little shorts had ridden up her thighs so that she was just barely decent.  The waist was a little loose so I could see the band of her black panties.  I’m a year older, but she’s seven or eight centimeters taller, and she’s got great legs.  I was thinking about them wrapped around me two or three times—

—Then she said, “Keep it on the road, sis,” or something like that, and I was blushing majorly when I stopped staring and paid attention to what I was doing.

But I said, “I was on the road, Ame,” just so she wouldn’t suspect anything.


17 May

Dear Diary,

It’s Saturday. Amy surprised the heck out of me by suggesting that we go to the beach. And I’m a moron. I knew I’d be tortured if I went, but I just couldn’t refuse. I can’t say no to her.

When we got there, since it’s the off-season and it’s a remote beach anyway, we were alone, as we often are. She pulled off her shirt and shorts and she was wearing a tiny yellow two-piece.  I can’t believe something like that is legal. I stripped down to my red swimsuit, too.Then I looked over and saw her putting lotion on those long legs of hers. I was getting uncomfortable. And then she asked me to get her back for her.

I was so scared. I started rubbing the suntan oil on her skin. I was going so slow that she must’ve noticed, but I couldn’t force my hands to work any faster. I began talking to her about nothing so maybe she wouldn’t notice.  But then I lost my concentration; my hands strayed and rubbed the sides of her breasts (and wow, were they soft!)

She didn’t flinch, and she didn’t say anything, so she must not have noticed. I guess it was a miracle. After that, I hurried and finished and I didn’t trust myself to touch her again.

Then she offered to get my back.

Well, if I’d said no, she would’ve wondered why. She’s got strong but gentle hands. I somehow managed not to purr while she was massaging me.

While she was getting my neck, she said like, “Your hair’s so pretty, Vee.”

So I said, “You’re way prettier than I am.”

And she joked and said, “Yeah, I am, and a lot taller. But you do okay for yourself.” When I didn’t respond right away, she asked if I was all right. (She sounded concerned, and adorable again.)

Part of my brain said, “Hey! She loves you back!” But another part said, “She loves you like a sister. Which you are, even if you’re sick for wanting to sleep with her.”

That sobered me up.

Somehow, I survived the beach.


19 May

Hey Diary,

I dreamed about her.  I’m not going to write the details about it.I  think I really need professional help. I dreamed that she and I were lovers, and I… made her really happy, which made me really happy. She was about to return the favor when my alarm went off.

I’ve got to buy a new clock today.

Point is, I couldn’t meet her eyes all morning. What if she’d guessed what was in my head?  But I helped her with her geometry after school.

Then we watched Where the Heart Is right before bed. We were on the couch and she snuggled up to me like she hasn’t done in years.

Oh, I love her so much!


21 May

Dear Diary,

Should I tell her? With each passing hour, I’m deeper in love with her.

But I can’t tell her. How could I expect her, or anyone, to understand? On the other hand, not telling her is starting to hurt me. Every time she looks at me with those intense brown eyes… every time she calls me “Vee” (no one else calls me that, by the way) every time she does something nice for me…

I have to tell her. I just have to. But how do I do that?  I’m terrified just writing about it.


22 May

Me again, Diary.

Our parents left on a trip this morning.  I’ll miss them, but it’s the least of my worries.

I saw Amy with a guy today and I almost lost it. She was talking to him right outside the school doors. I practically ran over to her and I was like, “Come on, we need to get going,” and I dragged her to my car.

So then she asked me what that was all about. I said I didn’t like him. She asked why. I didn’t have a reason, so I said he gave off bad vibes.

Then she was like, “I get it; you’re jealous.”

It was true, but not the way she thought. I think I said, “Only someone really special deserves you.” Something like that.

Then she gave me a weird look, but then she smiled and said she was touched by my concern. She’s so beautiful when she’s blushing and smiling.


23 May

Dear Diary,

Amy’s a tomboy. I was shocked when she came to me today and said, “Teach me how to dance.” I guess I must’ve looked how I felt, because she went a little crimson and said, “It doesn’t have to be now. I just want to know how. In case.”

She always was a quick study. I showed her a few steps and it didn’t take her long to catch on. Soon, she was improvising her own steps and motions. Then she said something like, “How about if it gets hotter?” She started mashing her hips against mine. I could feel her chest pressing into my back. One of her muscular legs went between mine—

—I was feeling great, but I was so jealous that she might use those moves! I stopped. I think I said, “That’s enough for today.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not going to be using that last bit with just anyone.”

I can’t keep this up. I’ve got to tell her.


24 May

Beach again. I had a bad feeling. I still can’t say no to Amy, though. (It’s been that way for years, why would it change in a week?) I went with her.

Again, I found myself spreading lotion on her smooth back. Again, I accidentally brushed her breasts.

She didn’t ignore it this time. “You did that last week, too,” she accused me. “What’s going on, anyway?”

I was like, “I just slipped. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t lie to me. Really, what is it?” Then she chuckled. “What, do you want to have sex with me or something?”

I should have denied it right away, but I didn’t. In the short pause, her question transformed from a joke into a revelation.

Now she was only whispering. “You do.

She looked at me, her gorgeous brown eyes searching. I nodded miserably.  “I… I guess I do, Ame.”

“That is so wrong! It’s gross! What’s the matter with you?”

That hurt so much that I ran back to the house, to my room, and locked my door. That’s where we are now, four hours later. Our parents won’t be back until next week; it’s just me and my tormentor in the house. And she hasn’t even come near me.

I knew this would happen.

I’ll probably kill myself tonight.



24 May

It’s night. She knocked. I didn’t answer. She said she was sorry.

But I’m the one who’s sorry.

She asked to talk. I still didn’t answer. She begged me to let her in. I could hear her crying.

I can’t let my baby sister cry.

I opened the door. I tried to wipe away her tears, and she shied away from me. Then I started to cry.

I guess she doesn’t want me crying either.

She hugged me and we sobbed on each other’s shoulders. I just wanted to die. She said it wasn’t my fault. “I reacted so horribly,” she told me. “That was mean. I’m so sorry, Vee. I wouldn’t have done anything that awful to anybody… I’m—well, it’s—you’re my big sister. You’re one of the few people I try to imitate. I trust you. Hearing that—I was shocked. I was scared.”

“I know,” I told her. “I don’t blame you.”

“Thanks. But you should. I’ve got no excuse. I know I hurt you, and I never want to hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” I said.  I shouldn’t have creeped you out. Believe me, I’ve had nothing but guilt and doubt since I realized I love you.”

She said then that she had a lot to think about, and she went to her room.

What will happen to us? What will happen to her? I’m still scared.


25 May

Dear Diary,

Things are a little better. She seems to be avoiding me. It might be my perception, since she’s not being aggressive about it. Still, I really didn’t see much of her today.


26 May


I don’t think it’s just me.  I hardly saw her today, same as yesterday.

But someone said, “No news is good news,” right?


29 May

Dear Diary,

Nothing to report, except that I was wrong. This is worse than talking, even arguing.


30 May

Dear Diary,

She came to my room this afternoon.  Has it really been less than a week?  It felt like she’d been giving me the silent treatment for years and years. I did my best not to let my pain show.

She said something like, “I know what happened. I’ve thought about how I was acting.  I was all over you, Vee; now I see that. I’m really, really sorry about that.”

“‘S’okay,” I mumbled.

“You don’t sound like it’s okay,” she said.

“I’m mad at myself, not at you, Ame. I’m wrong, and I know it… but I…”

Then she said something like, “Don’t you dare start crying on me.” So of course, I did. She still cared about me, after all that had happened, and it was just too much. I bawled like a baby.

I felt her arms around me. “You’re breaking my heart,” she whispered. “Please don’t cry.”

I told her that I had to be the worst sister ever.

She said that I was more like the coolest. I was really happy to hear that. It meant a lot of things. She wasn’t still mad at me, for one. She’d probably stop avoiding me, too. She didn’t want me to be sad.

“You’re the best,” I told her. My crying tapered off. “I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

“Smile for me,” she said (sounding adorable as always.)

I was still too overwhelmed, too confused. I wanted to do it, but I couldn’t. She was determined, however. She suggested that we go get some ice cream from down the street.

We walked over there — it’s only like three blocks — and she got two scoops of banana and I got two of orange sherbet.

As we were walking back, it abruptly began raining, and I mean pouring. We started jogging back to the house, shielding our cones.

When we were almost there, I decided to take a shortcut, but Amy stuck to the sidewalk. She was smarter. I slipped on the slick lawn and landed on my butt. I was soaked and muddy and I got a lot of sherbet on my shirt.

And then my dear sister started laughing at me! I couldn’t resist how cute she looked, and I started laughing too. She came over and held out her hand to help me up.

Or so I thought. Right before I got to my feet, she let go and I fell back down, and then she really laughed!

I lunged and tackled her. Normally, I maybe couldn’t have, since she’s bigger than I am, but with the ground being so slippery, she fell easily. But she wasn’t going to take that. By now we were shrieking and laughing and wrestling around, totally drenched, on the grass.

All of a sudden, she used one hand to unbutton my pants and slid them down just a little. I couldn’t tell if we were still playing or not, so I tried to pull them back up. Like I said, she’s bigger and stronger. She grabbed my wrists and held them down on the turf.

She looked deep into my eyes with her own wonderful brown eyes. We both stopped laughing. She said, “You’re brave, Vee. You’re smart and beautiful. I could do a lot worse than you, huh?”

I couldn’t reply, because her lips were suddenly approaching mine. She kissed so shyly that I could feel myself sinking deeper in love with her with each moment.

The rain and the kiss got more intense. She took hold of both my wrists with one hand.  With her other hand, she pushed up my tee shirt and tentatively felt my breasts through my bra. I was so turned on that even with the cloth and rain, even though her touch was so light, I squirmed and moaned.

She looked surprised. For a second, I was terrified that I’d broken the spell. But then she put her fingers under the front of my bra, in the center of my chest, and gently pulled the thin garment over my small breasts, making me gasp. I struggled a bit, but she held me down.

“Not here,” I pleaded. Her fingers gliding over my wet, chilly skin were about to drive me insane.

“Why not?” she teased. Her hand left my chest and she began stroking my belly, going lower very slowly. My eyes shut and would not open. I could feel her just a few centimeters below my navel and above my favorite spot.  Her hand took at least a decade to slip under my panties.

She softly rubbed my lower abdomen and hips but carefully kept away from my labia. I began wriggling and bucking, trying to get her to touch me there, but she was too quick. I was sure I couldn’t take this exquisite suffering. “I can’t bear it!” I shouted. “Please! Do it to me, baby!”

She came even closer to my vulva but still didn’t touch it. I screamed in protest.

She stopped suddenly and let go of my wrists. I wanted to grab her, but I was still weak, trembling with need. “Ame!”

“Make yourself decent, a cop car’s coming,” she hissed at me. I fixed my pants while she pulled down my shirt.

The car drove past a little more slowly than I figured was usual, but I could’ve been wrong. I watched it go past in the downpour. I stood.

The car was barely half a block beyond us when Amy tore my pants down again, this time all the way to my ankles. She pushed me to the ground. I took her with me. We grappled fiercely.  It didn’t take long for me to lose. I was face down, my pelvis over her thighs, like I was waiting to get a spanking. She ripped off my panties, and I mean that literally; she ripped them right off my body. She shoved two fingers in to me. She pumped fast and hard. I came within seconds, crying her name for the world to hear.

When I was descending, she pulled up my pants and rolled me off her legs. She got up and dragged me to my feet (I wasn’t much help — my lower body felt like gelatin.)

“I love you, Ame,” I rasped.

“I… I… love you too, Vee,” she responded. “I really do.”

She supported me as we entered the house.

I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow, diary.


31 May

Dear Diary,

A lot more happened today, and I haven’t even told you all of yesterday. Let me just summarize it; there’s too much otherwise.

Yesterday, when we got back into the house, we went to the bathroom to get towels. I pretended to still be weak from her attack. She bought it, and I launched my own attack on her.  All I’ll say is that I was successful and she tasted good — ooh, so good!

We woke up on my parents’ bed (it’s the biggest in the house) and when I’d cooked breakfast and she’d thrown the sheets in the washer, we ate and talked. There are definite advantages to your sister becoming your lover. It was like we’d known each other all our lives, because we have. She is so sweet; she does so many little things to show her love.

We headed to the beach again. No one was there but us. I guess my willpower is stronger than hers; after about ten minutes, she pounced on me. No preamble.

Bikinis are designed to stay on in the water, but they can’t hold up versus relentless fingers.  It’s always faster to untie a knot than to tie one. “Wait till we get home, you hornball!” I yelled as the bottom half of my suit vanished.

“We got interrupted yesterday. I’m making you mine. Now. Here,” she growled.

I was so wet I was dripping.

I knew I couldn’t stop her, but I could retaliate. While she was busy between my legs, I used my few seconds of free movement to undress her. I got done just before pleasure incapacitated me. As my first climax was subsiding and my second was building, I got between her legs and started my counterattack. I love it when she screams out, “Vee!”  She’s normally so quiet, it lets me know I’m really ringing her bell.

Our parents are due back from vacation tomorrow night.  For the first time in my life, I’m not looking forward to it. I love them, but there’s no way they’ll understand Amy’s and my relationship. Will they?

Tonight I’m sleeping with her again. It feels so good, being held in her strong arms, feeling the press of her chest and pelvis against my body. It’s better than our “playing,” better than our kisses. I feel so safe with her.

Time for bed.


1 June

Hey Diary,

Amy sat me down for our first little talk today, and you know what I mean by that. What’s cool is that there was no arguing; we agreed on everything. She was like, “How serious are you?”

I told her the truth. I told her that I wanted to spend my life with her. She told me that she loved me too. Then she wanted to talk about our parents. We decided that we’d have to hide it from them, but it wouldn’t be too tough, at least not right away. I’m graduating school this year and she is next year.  I told her that I was moving out and she could live with me. She loved the idea. I’ve already got a place lined up, since graduation is July 10th. We’d only have to keep our secret in the house for a little more than a month. It’ll be way easier once we’re out on our own.

She said she didn’t want us to be a secret forever. I told her not to worry about it yet. Then she was like, “Mom and Dad will be back in a few hours.”

I said that they’d be the best hours of her life. I laid her down on the dining room table and (in my smoothest, sexiest voice) asked her to let me take care of her. Hey, if she can be irresistible, why can’t I, right? And I was. She lay back, closed her eyes, and submitted. We were in the dining room, so I figured it was time to eat. I got some chocolate syrup and caramel topping and… let’s just say that I devoured my delighted sundae. She was sticky after that, so we took a long bath together, during which I made love to her again. Before 3:00, we’d tried every room in the house. It was a hell of a finale before our parents returned.

When they came back at about 4:30, we were pretty tired. Still, the four of us talked for a long time. It seems they had a great vacation. (Ours was pretty incredible too.) We finally all got to bed at about 11:00.

As I write this, Amy’s sleeping in my bed. Like 20 minutes after we went to our rooms, she sneaked into mine. I asked if it was a smart move, but I still can’t say no to her. We just had our weirdest sex yet. I had to put my nightshirt in her mouth so Mom and Dad wouldn’t hear her screaming. I used her sweatpants myself…


2 June

Dear Diary,

I drove Amy to school. Sounds easy, right? It wasn’t. She was all up on my lap; I had to pull over twice and we had fast, frantic sex right there on the side of the road.

I think my sister might be a goddess.

We got to school just barely on time, but when we got out of the car, Amy held me back for a second.  She was like, “Let’s trade panties.”

I was like, “We can’t here!” Because we were in the middle of the parking lot.

But she insisted.

Taking mine off wasn’t hard, but it was a little tougher to get hers back on. Some chick walked past while we were finishing up and I think she suspected something. Like we cared.

I guess that Amy wanted me to think of her all day. It worked.


Sadly, dear readers, that’s all there is… GrandMoff left a note at the end suggesting the story might be continued, but never picked up the thread. A pity, although we’re sure you’ll agree that what we have is lovely, well worth preserving at Juicy Secrets.


No comments on A Thing to Cling To

  1. Misty Meadow says:

    Delightfully realistic and credible. I like the diary format. I wish I’d had a sister.

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