Amanda, My Sibling - Cover

Amanda, My Sibling

Copyright© 2004 by Bernard Sagon

Chapter 9

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 9 - Sequel to "Sis on Tape". The continuing experiences of Kenneth and his sister Amanda through the growth of and later ending of their incestuous affair and their subsequent experiences with other lovers.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Rape   Heterosexual   Incest   Brother   Sister   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Sex Toys   Pregnancy   Slow  

At long last the reception was over and it was time for the bride and groom to leave for the honeymoon. Their car had been decorated in the traditional manner, with streamers along the sides and strings of metal cans tied to the rear bumper. A large "Just Married" banner across the trunk was the final touch. Paul held the door for his new wife as she slid into the passenger seat, barely fitting due to her wedding gown. Then, closing the door, he went to his side of the car and got in. At the insistence of a number of people surrounding the car, he leaned across to my sister. In response, she leaned toward him. They kissed each other as flashbulbs exploded around them. Finally, after almost five minutes of posing for the cameras, the happy couple was allowed to start the car and drive off, the cans clattering down the street as they went.

As soon as Amanda and her new husband left, I could see my mother and father separate from the crowd of guests and head toward Paul's parents. They then all headed toward where the limos had been parked. This time it would be their turn to ride the Rolls-Royce back to the house to join the newlyweds, who would be changing cloths and picking up their luggage before leaving on their honeymoon. They would be catching a nice cruise ship for a ten day trip through the Panama canal and cruising the Caribbean, although, knowing my sister, they would be lucky if they saw even one half the scheduled ports of call. After all, it WOULD be their honeymoon.

I was right behind the parents' limo in my own car. The family wanted to spend a bit of time unwinding with the bride and groom before they had to leave. We arrived back at our home just ahead of the happy couple, who we knew had pulled their car over into a parking lot where Paul would have to strip it of the streamers and tin cans. He and Amanda arrived while I was still getting out of my own car, followed by the best man's car containing him and the maid-of-honor. We all enter the house.

Everyone headed off to his or her assigned tasks. Paul went to change out of his tuxedo in my parent's bedroom. Amanda and Mom headed up the stairs to my sister's bedroom, where her wedding gown would be removed and prepared for storage. The best man, assisted by my father, began transferring the mound of luggage that had been staged in the living room to the bride and groom's limo. The pile was huge, particularly when you considered that Paul and Amanda would probably be spending most of the next ten days naked in each other's arms. I just hoped they had reserved a big stateroom. They were going to need the space. And only God knew how they expected to bring everything back with them on the airplane they would be returning on.

Not having any tasks assigned for me to perform, I found that Cindy and myself had been left to temporarily manage for ourselves. I intended to get myself that drink I had been denied all day, and politely asked Cindy if she would be interested in one too.

"Whisky on the rocks," she responded. "Make it a double."

"O.K.," I responded, leading her toward the kitchen. "Will Crown Royal be satisfactory?"

"I'll take anything," she replied, flashing me a very pretty smile. "You don't have to get fancy for me."

"Might as well drink the good stuff," I retorted. "After all, we don't have a wedding around here every day."

She laughed at my observation. I mixed our drinks, making myself a rum and Coke, and prepared hers, making it closer to a triple than the requested double. I gave her the glass, and picking up my own, started sipping. We discussed the events of the day. Although, as Amanda's best friend, she was a regular fixture around the Carson household, I had not had that much of a chance to talk to her one-on-one. After all, I had only been alone with her once that time at the mall, and had made a point of not following her around as she had cruised the various boutiques (I had always found myself bored to death when I had accompanied Amanda on such outings). Then of course we had no chance to talk while watching a movie, so I wasn't sure what to expect from her. I was pleased to discover that she was quite easy to talk to. Her observations were insightful, and her dry sense of humor soon had me laughing quietly with her. I decided to bring up the subject of our dance.

"I'd like to thank you for our dance together. It was one of the high points of my day."

Cindy blushed a light pink at my statement. It was obvious that she had discussed our dance some more after Amanda had spoken with me.

She seemed a bit flustered in being caught out. "I'm sure you're overstating the case."

"No, I mean it," I replied, deciding not to bring up the boner she had given me. We both knew what had happened. Instead, I continued, "You're a very good dancer, you know."

"Thank you," she said, obviously pleased. "You're not a bad dancer yourself."

"If I'm not, you have Amanda to thank. She taught me how to dance back in high school before my first prom. Guess she didn't want me to make a fool out of myself."

"Really?" she responded, amused.

"Really. My sister probably thought that it might reflect badly on her if her brother had no social skills."

"Maybe," she agreed. "I remember performing a similar service for my younger brothers before their first proms."

"You probably did a better job of it," I suggested. "At least you know how to follow a man's lead. My sister never was very good at following someone else."

"I'm sure Amanda is a very good dancer."

"But not as good as you," I insisted. "Anyway, thanks for brightening up what was otherwise a rather boring day for me."

"Oh?" Cindy replied, intrigued. "Boring in what way?"

"In almost every way you can think of. Weddings are really designed for the participants and the parents of the bride and groom - and I'm not too sure about the participants part. The rest of us just have to endure the ritual."

Cindy frowned slightly. "That's not exactly a very romantic view of things."

"Guess I a bit of a cynic," I conceded. "I don't see the world in very romantic terms. Weddings are a ritual society uses to bestow it's blessing on the joining of two households. It was originally more like the merging of two corporations than all the hearts and flowers stuff you hear all the time. Don't forget, once upon a time the bride and groom didn't have much say about who they were getting married to. Most marriages were arraigned - or at least they were among the socially elite."

"Well, I don't look at marriage like that," Cindy declared. "I guess I have a much more ideal view of what a marriage should be than you."

"Actually, I think you're mistaken in that belief. I have an ideal view of what marriage should be - just like you do. I wasn't talking about marriage - I was talking about the wedding - the ritual involved. There is a difference between the two."

"And the distinction is?"

"The wedding is a social acknowledgement of a social union. I don't think a wedding does anything else. For instance, do you really think anything was created in that church today that didn't already exist? Look at Amanda and Paul. Don't you think they were already one before today?"

"Well, maybe. I can see where you're coming from. Still, the wedding made it all legal."

"Exactly," I agreed. "A social acknowledgement took place of a union that already existed. I understand the reasons for the ritual. I just don't confuse the ritual - the wedding - with marriage itself."

"Well, if you put it that way, I probably would have to agree with you," Cindy conceded. "Still, your view just doesn't seem to leave much room for romance. I would want more for myself if and when my time to get married comes around."

"Well, hold on to those dreams for romance. I'm all for it. I just think the romance better be there BEFORE the wedding occurs."

Our discussion was interrupted by the sounds coming from the living room. It quickly became obvious that my sister and her husband had reappeared, as I could hear my father directing them to stand closer together and smile while he took pictures. I knew that sooner or later I would be roped into posing with the family.

"I suppose we'd better to getting back."

"I suppose so," Cindy agreed.

"Would you like another of those?" I inquired, pointing to her now almost whiskyless glass.

"That would be nice, but make it a highball this time. I don't usually drink it straight." She laughed coyly, "You wouldn't want to get me drunk, would you?"

I gave her a sideward glance at this last question. God, first Amanda and now Cindy acting like I might be trying to put the moves on my sister's best friend. But there was nothing there - no indication that Cindy was flirting with me. Her inquiry had probably been an innocent one. After all, there was no reason for her to flirt with me. It wasn't like Cindy was unaware that she could get a response out of me. My hard-on when we had danced had told her all she needed to know on that score.

I took her drink from her, refreshing it with Crown Royal and then pouring ginger ale over the remaining ice. Then I freshened up my own rum and Coke. I then escorted her back into the living room.

My father was still photographing the newlyweds. My sister caught sight of the two of us returning from the kitchen, her eyebrows rising. I made a point of moving away from Cindy before my sister started giving me that look again. Her mental matchmaking would have been amusing if it weren't so annoying. I wasn't interested in sex with Cindy. Why couldn't Amanda just accept that? It wasn't like she was very approving of the idea anyway.

The next hour and a half was exactly the kind of nightmare I had expected. I did get roped in for several pictures of the bride and groom with the whole family before it became obvious that, not being a part of the wedding party, I would be awkwardly out of place in whatever additional photos were to be taken. That was how I ended up with the camera in my hands, taking pictures of the others, allowing Dad to join the festivities, abet reluctantly. Still, he went along gamely for the sake of his daughter's happiness and the fact that Mom would probably have had a fit if he hadn't.

Finally, once the family togetherness thing had been done (and overdone), including a second round of photographs with Paul's family, the honeymoon couple was allowed to make their escape. This involved another round of hugs and kisses, handshakes with the groom, and a number of semi-ribald jokes about the bride and groom's expected honeymoon activities from my mother of all people. I wouldn't have thought that she had it in her. I came to the conclusion that there's just something decidedly weird about hearing your own normally prim and proper mom telling off-color jokes.

My sister joined in the spirit of the teasing. "Well, don't expect any postcards from us. I don't plan on spending my time doing anything so mundane as writing home."

"Well, there's always photographs..." my mother quipped.

Even Amanda blushed at this, though Paul and his father both laughed heartily.

"I don't think so" she responded. "If I do need to contact any of you, I'll find an Internet connection and e-mail you or Kenneth."

My ears picked up at the mention of my name.

"Should I check my computer every day?" I queried sarcastically. "I can't imagine anything you'd want to interrupt your honeymoon for to tell me."

Amanda responded in exactly the same sarcastic tone I had used. "Well, check once in a while anyway." She locked eyes with me just momentarily. "You never know what I might have to say."

Was my sister trying to send me a message? Despite the fact that she had spoken to me in front of everyone else, including her new husband and both sets of parents, I was certain she had. After all, we had a history that none of the others was aware of. I was sure she had let me know that she had left or would leave a missive for me in my secret e-mail box. I'd have to look for it when I was assured of privacy.

In the meantime, I had to settle for giving her a very brotherly kiss on the cheek goodbye. She returned it in the same manner, giving me a soft hug.

"You take care of yourself now," I told her, sincerely. "I want you both to be happy - I really do."

Amanda blushed. "Thank you. We intend to do just that."

"And don't worry about your things," I continued - teasing her, acting like the brother our parents were more used to. "I won't move into your room until after you get back from your honeymoon and get your stuff out of there."

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