It’s crazy, isn’t it? How one night, just one, can totally mess with your whole life. Like, you think you’re just having a normal day, and BAM, everything changes. And not in a good way. I still get flashbacks to that night. The memories are kinda blurry, like looking through fogged-up glass, but the guilt? The shame? Man, that’s crystal clear. It’s like a tattoo on my brain, you know?
It was at a family thing. Ugh, those parties, right? Always way too loud, everyone pretending to have the time of their lives, except for me, obviously. I was off in a corner, feeling sorry for myself, with a drink in hand. Then Chloe, my step-sister, finds me. Laughing, being all bubbly, trying to drag me into the middle of it all. We’d always been tight, even though we were step-siblings. I thought of her like a little sister, someone I was supposed to protect, look out for, you get the picture.
The night went on, drinks kept flowing, and yeah, we both got pretty wasted. Inhibitions? Gone. Poof. I remember laughing, actually properly laughing, for the first time in ages. It was like this weight just lifted, you know? Chloe was being Chloe, spinning around, drink slopping everywhere, blonde hair flying all over the place. I got caught up in it, feeling alive for once.
Needed to pee, so I headed upstairs. Booze went right through me, as usual. Came out of the bathroom, and there’s Chloe, just standing in the hallway. Music thumping from downstairs, but up here, it was just us. I laughed, seeing her stumble a bit, and she playfully punched my arm. Like you do, right?
And then… well, how the hell did it even happen? Seriously, one minute we were kinda dancing in the hallway, messing around, the next, we were full-on snogging. Tongues everywhere, stumbling backwards towards the bathroom again. Dumb, drunken kiss, the kind where you’re like, “What am I doing?” but you just can’t stop. Ever been there?
I can barely remember the past few minutes. We stumbled into the bathroom, the music outside now just a muffled beat. Chloe, with her sparkly eyes and mischievous grin, pulled me in further. Before I knew it, I had her bent over the sink, her skirt hiked up, and her knickers around her thighs. My dick was already raring to go, begging to be freed from my jeans. I quickly unzipped and shoved my pants down, releasing my aching cock. Were my hands shaking from nerves or the booze? Who knows.
“Easy,” I murmured, my voice rough. I kept teasing her, the head of my cock slick against her folds.
A sharp intake of breath. “Liam,” she gasped, her hips arching slightly. “Please…”
I chuckled, a low sound in my chest. “Please what? Tell me.” The anticipation was building, thick and heavy in the air.
Her head fell back against the pillows, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. “Don’t… don’t make me beg.”
I couldn’t resist any longer. I pressed forward, slowly, deliberately, feeling her heat grip me. “God, you’re wet,” I breathed against her ear, then pushed deeper. “Does that feel good?”
“Oh, God, Liam,” she breathed, voice all husky and low. “Yes. Yes, it does.”
“Shh, don’t talk,” I mumbled back, kissing the side of her neck, the soft skin there. And then I started pumping, slow and deep to begin with, getting used to the feeling, the tightness of her. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, knickers dangling, and I gripped her hips, holding her steady against the cool porcelain sink.
She’s gripping the sink so tight, her knuckles are white, and her bum is pressed up against me just right. Can you imagine the scene? The bathroom is foggy with steam, and the music from the other room is just a distant thump. It’s like we’re in our own little world, and all that matters is the pleasure we’re giving each other.
She’s moaning louder now, lost in the moment. “Ah shit…ummmm, your cock…fuck…oh give it to me,” she gasps, her voice full of pure pleasure. I can feel her getting into it, her body moving in rhythm with mine. And me? I’m not doing too bad myself. Each thrust is deeper and harder than the last, and I can feel her getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Ummmm ah…yeah…harder,” she begs, and I’m happy to oblige. But can you blame me? The way she’s moving, the sounds she’s making, it’s all too much. I can feel myself getting closer too, my breath coming in ragged gasps. All I can hear is her moans and my own breathing, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Fuck, Liam, that’s it,” she gasped, her voice rising above the music. “Deeper… yeah, right there!” Her hips started to move too, meeting each of my thrusts, grinding against me. I could feel her getting closer, her moans getting louder, more urgent.
“Harder, Liam, fuck me harder,” she begged, her nails digging into my back. “Don’t stop, baby, don’t stop.” I listened, every word fueling me, driving me on. I was pumping into her, feeling the sweat start to bead on my forehead, her moans getting louder, closer to a scream.
I could feel her body tensing, her muscles clenching around me as she reached her peak. She threw her head back, letting out a cry of pleasure that only spurred me on. I kept going, harder, faster, until I felt myself reaching the edge.
As I pounded into her, she looked over her shoulder, her eyes half-lidded, drunk with desire. Her knuckles were white, gripping the sink for dear life. I put my hand under her, rubbing her gash as I went faster. She let out a loud moan, her body shuddering beneath mine.
And then, just as suddenly, it was over. We both came, our bodies crashing together in a mess of sweat and desire. The aftermath was awkward, both of us staring at each other in shock, our breathing ragged.
The next morning was a nightmare. We woke up in separate rooms, both of us hungover, trying to piece together what had happened. We avoided each other, the tension between us palpable.
That was a year ago. Since then, I’ve been living a life of quiet desperation, trying to outrun my guilt. I’ve drifted from place to place, job to job, never staying in one spot for too long. I’ve avoided family gatherings, fearing what might happen if Chloe and I are in the same room again.
But the memories linger, haunting me like a ghost. I’m trapped in a cycle of self-destruction, unable to escape the shame of what we did. I know I need to make amends, but I don’t know how. I’m torn between confessing and keeping it a secret, fearing the consequences either way.
As I sit here, staring at the wall, I wonder what the future holds. Will I ever be able to forgive myself? Will Chloe ever forgive me? Or will we be stuck in this limbo forever, unable to move forward?
The only thing I know is that I need to confront my demons, to face what we did head-on. It won’t be easy, but maybe, just maybe, I can find a way to redeem myself, to make things right. But for now, the guilt and shame remain a constant reminder of that night, that regretful sibling drunken hookup that changed my life forever.