The snow started subtly, those delicate, almost hesitant flakes that barely dusted the ground, but by late afternoon, it was a full-blown blizzard. Christmas Eve, and we were properly snowed in. Mom and Dad had left earlier that day to visit Grandma and Grandpa a couple of hours away, planning to be back by nightfall. “Just in time for Santa!” Mom had joked, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. That was hours ago, and the last text we’d gotten was around lunchtime, saying they’d be setting off shortly. Shortly turned into ‘stuck somewhere on the highway’ according to the news reports now flickering on the TV in the background, showing endless lines of stationary cars and swirling white chaos.
“Well, this is… Christmassy,” Emma said, her voice laced with a wry amusement. She was perched on the armrest of the sofa, her legs tucked under her, a mug of something steaming in her hands. Emma, my older sister, had arrived a couple of days before Christmas, escaping the city and her high-pressure job for some proper family time. At 34, she was everything I wasn’t – confident, sophisticated, and undeniably attractive. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, showcasing high cheekbones and intelligent green eyes that seemed to see right through me sometimes, even when I didn’t want them to. Today she was wearing a thick, cream-colored sweater that emphasized the gentle curve of her breasts – a detail my 18-year-old brain couldn’t help but register, even though I immediately felt a pang of guilt for noticing.
“Yeah, very classic,” I muttered, flipping through channels aimlessly. The festive cheer was beginning to feel a little thin. We’d decorated the tree together the day before, carolled along to cheesy Christmas songs, and generally played the happy family act, even though Mom and Dad weren’t here. Now, the silence in the house was starting to press in, punctuated only by the howling wind outside and the rhythmic drumming of snow against the windows.
“Rum and eggnog?” Emma suggested, holding up the bottle of dark rum she must have magically produced from somewhere. “We stocked up, remember? Might as well make the best of it.”
I shrugged. “Sure, why not?” It wasn’t like we had anywhere to be. And a little rum sounded infinitely better than staring at a blank TV screen.
We made a huge batch of eggnog, properly spiced and frothy, and settled back in front of the fireplace. The fire crackled merrily, casting dancing shadows on the walls, and for a while, we just talked. About her work, my college applications, silly childhood memories of past Christmases. The rum warmed us from the inside out, and the initial awkwardness of being stranded together started to melt away.
“Remember that time you tried to build a snow fort in the middle of summer?” Emma laughed, taking a long sip of her eggnog. “You filled the freezer with snow and got grounded for a week.”
I groaned, burying my face in a cushion. “Don’t remind me. I was a dumb kid.”
“You were adorable,” she teased, reaching out and ruffling my hair like I was still ten years old. Her fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary, brushing against the nape of my neck, sending a surprising shiver down my spine. I couldn’t meet her eyes, suddenly feeling self-conscious and a little…flustered.
As the evening wore on, the rum bottle steadily emptied. We moved onto beers, cracking open cans and letting the festive music from the radio fill the quieter moments in our conversation. Emma’s laughter became louder, more unrestrained. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled with a mischievous light I hadn’t seen in years, not since we were kids playing hide-and-seek in the summer twilight.
“You know,” she said, leaning closer to me, her voice a little slurred, “you’ve… you’ve grown up, Mikey. Really grown up.”
My heart did a weird little flutter. “Uh, yeah, I guess so. Eighteen now.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze lingering on my face. “Eighteen. Wow.” She reached out and touched my arm, her fingers warm against my skin through my thin t-shirt. “You’re… handsome, you know?”
The compliment, coming from her, hit me like a shot of pure adrenaline. My throat went dry, and I suddenly felt incredibly aware of the space between us on the sofa. Aware of her scent, a mix of vanilla and something subtly floral, aware of the way her sweater shifted as she moved, hinting at the curves beneath.
“Thanks, Emma,” I managed to croak out, my voice sounding much deeper than I expected.
“Don’t thank me,” she said softly, her green eyes holding mine. “It’s just… true.”
The air in the room felt suddenly thick, charged with something electric. We sat in silence for a long moment, the only sound the crackling fire and the muffled roar of the storm outside. Then, the silence was broken by a sudden, disconcerting click from the basement.
The lights flickered, dimmed, and then plunged us into complete darkness.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Power must have gone out.”
“Great timing,” Emma sighed, but her voice didn’t sound too concerned. “At least we have the fire.”
We fumbled for our phones, using their screens as makeshift torches. The house was instantly colder, the warmth from the dying embers in the fireplace suddenly insufficient against the biting winter chill seeping in through the poorly insulated windows.
“Heating’s electric, right?” Emma asked, her teeth starting to chatter slightly.
“Yeah,” I confirmed, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach. No power, no heating in the middle of a blizzard. Not ideal.
We added more logs to the fire, trying to coax it back to life, but the house was already losing heat fast. The rum and beer were wearing off, replaced by a creeping cold that seeped into our bones, and a different kind of tension, not electric, but anxious, settling between us.
“We need to stay warm,” Emma said, her voice barely above a whisper. She was shivering visibly now, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“Yeah,” I agreed, my mind racing. We had blankets, of course, plenty of them. But blankets alone wouldn’t be enough in this kind of cold.
Emma looked at me, her eyes wide and slightly unfocused in the dim light from the fire. “Maybe… maybe we should… share?”
My breath hitched in my chest. Share? Share what? Blankets? Yes, blankets, of course. But the way she said it, the way she was looking at me, made me think she meant something more.
“Share… blankets?” I asked, my voice betraying my uncertainty.
She nodded slowly, then her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before she looked back up at me, her eyes searching mine. “And… body heat?”
The question hung in the cold air, heavy with unspoken implication. My mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and sensations. This was Emma, my sister. But she wasn’t just my sister anymore, not really. She was a woman, a beautiful, desirable woman, and tonight, in this snowbound house, stripped of all pretense and societal norms by the alcohol and the isolation, she was offering something… different.
“Emma…” I started, my voice thick with emotion I couldn’t quite name.
She stepped closer, closing the small gap between us. Her skin was cool to the touch, but her eyes burned with an intensity that melted the remaining ice in my veins. She reached out and gently cupped my face in her hands, her thumbs brushing lightly across my cheekbones.
“It’s cold, Mike,” she whispered, her breath warm against my lips. “So cold.”
And then she kissed me.
It wasn’t a sisterly kiss, not the quick peck on the cheek I was used to. This was something else entirely. Her lips were soft and slightly parted, tasting faintly of rum and something else, something intoxicatingly Emma. My mind went blank, all coherent thought replaced by a rush of pure sensation. I instinctively responded, my arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the soft curve of her breasts press against my chest through her sweater.
The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. Her tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I opened my mouth to her, inviting her in. The taste of her was intoxicating, a heady mix of sweetness and something subtly spicy. We kissed like we were both drowning, desperate for air, for connection, for warmth.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, the fire in the hearth seemed to burn brighter, even though it was just embers now. We were both breathing heavily, our eyes locked together in the dim light.
Emma’s hands were still on my face, her fingers tangled in my hair. “God, Mike,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I… I don’t know what’s happening.”
“I don’t either,” I admitted, my own voice hoarse. But I knew, deep down, that I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted to explore this forbidden territory, to see where this unexpected, intoxicating turn of events would lead us.
She leaned in again, kissing me softly this time, a lingering, exploratory kiss that sent shivers of anticipation down my spine. Her hands slid down from my face, tracing the line of my neck, then dipping under the collar of my t-shirt, her fingers brushing against my skin.
“We need to get warmer,” she murmured against my lips, her voice husky and low. “Really warm.”
She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine again, and in that moment, I saw a flicker of something else in their depths, something beyond just the need for warmth. Something that mirrored the desire that was starting to blaze within me.
Without a word, she reached down and took my hand, leading me towards the stairs. The house was freezing now, each breath misting in the air, but inside, a different kind of heat was building, growing stronger with every step we took.
We stumbled into my room, the familiar space suddenly feeling foreign and charged with an entirely new energy. Emma closed the door behind us, and then turned to face me, her eyes dark and pupils dilated in the dim light filtering in from the snow-covered window.
She reached up and slowly pulled her sweater over her head, tossing it onto the floor. She was wearing a thin lace camisole underneath, the delicate fabric barely concealing the full curves of her breasts. My breath caught in my throat. They were even more beautiful than I had imagined, the soft swell of her chest rising and falling with each breath. Her nipples were already hard, pushing against the lace, and I could see the faint outline of her areolas through the sheer fabric.
“Help me get warm, Mikey,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire as my cock went full on hard. “That’s if your not a virgin.”
I shook my head, my voice barely audible. “No. No, I’m not.” I had lost my virginity to a girl named Sarah last summer, a clumsy, fumbling encounter that had left me feeling more confused than anything else. But I wasn’t going to tell Emma that. “Oh and yes trust me I know how to use it, get laid down then sis.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving mine as she laid down. “Good. Because I need you. I need you to help me get warm.” She lifted her ass off the bed so she could take her pants and knickers off.
I didn’t hesitate. I crawled onto the bed, my body hovering over hers, and she reached up, pulling me down into a searing kiss. Her lips were soft and hungry, her tongue darting out to meet mine as our bodies pressed together, the heat of her skin burning through the thin fabric of my t-shirt.
Her hands roamed over my back, nails digging in slightly as she pulled me closer, grinding her hips against mine. I could feel the heat of her core, even through my jeans, and it sent a jolt of electricity straight to my cock. I was already hard, painfully so, and the friction of her body against mine was only making it worse.
She broke the kiss, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “Take your shirt off,” she demanded, her voice low and husky. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”
I obliged, sitting back on my heels and pulling my t-shirt over my head in one swift motion. Her eyes raked over my chest, lingering on the defined muscles of my abdomen before moving lower, to the obvious bulge in my jeans.
“Mmm, look at you,” she purred, reaching out to run a finger along the outline of my cock. “You’re so hard for me, aren’t you, bet your gagging to shag your big sisters pussy.”
“Yes,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. “I want you, Emma. I want to be inside you.”
She smiled, a slow, sensual curve of her lips that sent a shiver down my spine. “Then take me,” she said, her voice low and inviting.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as my hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and dip. She arched into my touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as I cupped her breasts, feeling the weight of them in my palms.
Her nipples were hard against my fingers, and I rolled them between my thumb and forefinger, eliciting a gasp from her. She broke the kiss, her head falling back against the pillow as she gave herself over to the sensation.
“God, Mike,” she panted, her hips bucking against mine. “Don’t stop.”
I didn’t intend to. I trailed my lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as my hands continued their exploration. I traced the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, before dipping my fingers beneath the waistband of her panties.
She was already wet, her arousal coating my fingers as I slid them through her folds. She was hot and slick, and I couldn’t help but groan at the feel of her. I circled her clit with my thumb, feeling it swell beneath my touch, as I slipped a finger inside her.
“Fuck,” she hissed, her hips lifting off the bed to meet my hand. “More. I need more.”
I obliged, adding a second finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. She was tight, her walls clenching around my fingers as I pumped them in and out of her. Her breathing grew ragged, her moans louder and more desperate as I brought her closer to the edge.
“Mike,” she gasped, her hands fisting in the sheets. “I would prefer your dick inside me instead. Let’s get sweaty.”
I nodded, my heart racing as I sat back and quickly unbuckled my belt, pushing my jeans and boxers down my legs in one swift motion. My cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, the head already slick with pre-cum.
Emma’s eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of me, and a slow, appreciative smile spread across her face. “Wow,” she breathed, her gaze fixated on my cock. “You really have grown up.”
I felt a flush of pride at her words, my ego boosted by the clear appreciation in her eyes. But there was no time to dwell on it, not with the heat of her body calling to me, the scent of her arousal filling the air.
She reached out, wrapping her fingers around the base of my shaft, and I hissed at the sensation, my hips jerking forward involuntarily. “Careful,” I growled, my voice barely recognizable.
“Or what?” she challenged, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she slowly stroked my length. “You’ll fuck me too hard?”
I let out a low, needy groan at her words, my body trembling with the effort of holding back. “God, yes,” I admitted, my voice rough with desire.
She guided me to her entrance, positioning the tip of my cock against her slick folds. I hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath, then slowly pushed forward, breaching her tight opening with a low groan.
Fuck, she was hot and wet, her inner walls gripping me like a vice as I slid into her inch by inch. I started to move in and out, her pussy oh god it felt so good.
“Have fun, and fuck me good. Last long please,” she said as I started to fuck her.
“Oh God, Mike,” Emma gasped as I began to thrust into her, her eyes rolling back in pleasure. “You feel so fucking good.”
Her pussy was tight and slick around my cock, each stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I could feel every inch of her, her inner walls clenching and pulsing as I moved in and out of her.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” I grunted, my hips moving faster, driving into her with increasing force. The wet, squelching sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, punctuated by our heavy breathing and moans.
Emma’s nails raked down my back, leaving red welts in their wake as she pulled me closer, urging me deeper. “Harder, Mike,” she pleaded, her voice strained. “Fuck me harder.”
I obliged, gripping her hips and pounding into her with abandon. The bed creaked and shook beneath us, the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. Sweat beaded on our skin, our bodies sliding against each other as we lost ourselves in the raw, primal need.
“Oh fuck, Mike,” Emma cried out, her body tensing beneath me. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop. Show me what my little brother can do, shag me like you never shagged a girl in your life be rough.”
“Rough huh,” I pulled out and dragged her off the bed and bent her over it.
I grabbed her hips and thrust into her, hard and deep, bottoming out inside her pussy. She let out a loud moan, her body shaking with the force of my thrust. “Oh fuck, Mike! Yes, just like that!”
I started to pound into her, my hips slapping against her ass with each thrust. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, mixing with our moans and grunts. I reached around and grabbed her tits, squeezing and kneading them as I fucked her.
“Play with my clit, Mike,” she begged, her voice breathy with desire. “Make me cum.”
I slid my hand down her stomach, finding her clit with my fingers. I rubbed it in tight circles, matching the rhythm of my thrusts. Her pussy clamped down around my cock, getting tighter and wetter with each passing second.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” she cried out, her body tensing. “Don’t stop, Mike! Make me cum!”
I fucked her harder, my fingers rubbing her clit faster. I could feel her pussy starting to spasm around my cock, milking it for all it was worth. She threw her head back and screamed, her body shaking as she came hard.
“Fuck, Emma! Your pussy feels so good,” I groaned, feeling my own orgasm building. “I’m gonna cum too.”
She pushed back against me, taking me deeper. “Cum inside me, Mike,” she panted. “Fill me up.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. With a loud groan, I buried myself deep inside her and came, my cock pulsing as I shot my load into her waiting pussy. We both collapsed onto the bed, panting and sweaty, our bodies still connected.
We lay there for a long moment, our bodies still entwined, our breathing gradually returning to normal. The room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat, the air thick and heavy. I could feel Emma’s heart pounding against my chest, her skin slick with perspiration.
She turned her head, her eyes meeting mine, and I saw a flicker of something in their depths – a mix of satisfaction, affection, and something else I couldn’t quite name. She reached up, cupping my cheek in her hand, her thumb brushing lightly over my lips.
“That was… intense,” she murmured, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. “Yeah, it was. Are you warmer.”
The next morning, Emma and I woke up tangled in each other’s arms, the events of the night before still fresh in our minds. The power was still out, and the house was chilly, but we were warm and cozy under the thick blankets.
“Morning,” Emma said, her voice soft and sleepy as she looked up at me with a shy smile.
“Morning,” I replied, feeling a little awkward now that the heat of the moment had passed. What we’d done last night was incredible, but it was also taboo, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we might have crossed a line.
Emma seemed to sense my unease, because she reached up and cupped my cheek, her thumb brushing over my lips just like she had the night before. “Hey,” she said gently. “Don’t overthink it, okay? Last night was… amazing. And I don’t regret it for a second.”
I nodded, feeling some of the tension ease out of my shoulders. “It was amazing,” I agreed. “I just… I don’t want things to be weird between us.”
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “They won’t be weird. We’re still us. We’re still siblings. We just… shared something really special last night. Something that doesn’t change anything, except maybe the way we see each other.”
I thought about that for a moment, and realized she was right. What we’d done didn’t change who we were to each other. It was just… a new layer to our relationship. A deeper connection.
“Okay,” I said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “No regrets.”
She smiled against my mouth, then deepened the kiss, her tongue slipping out to meet mine. I groaned, feeling my body start to respond to her touch, and she laughed softly.
“Looks like someone’s ready for round two,” she teased, reaching down to palm my hardening cock through the blankets.
I grinned, my earlier awkwardness forgotten as I rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. “What can I say? You bring out the animal in me.”
She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me closer. “I like this animal,” she purred, her hands roaming over my back. “In fact, I think I might need him to help me get warm again…”
And with that, we lost ourselves in each other once more, the world outside fading away as we explored the depths of our newfound passion. The power may have been out, but the heat between us was burning brighter than ever.