Sibling Road Trip by NewIn57

Sibling Road Trip by NewIn57

Embark on a steamy adventure with our "Sibling Road Trip" erotic sex story. Join two siblings as they explore their forbidden desires on a journey filled with passion and pleasure. Get ready for a wild ride that will leave you breathless. Read now for a tale of lust and seduction.<br/>

Day 1: Las Vegas to Albuquerque

A little about my brother and me. My name is Amy. I’m 18 years old, brown hair, green eyes, 5′ 5″, 120 pounds. I just graduated from high school where I was class valedictorian, captain of the girl’s swim team, chess club, debate society, drama club. You know, the usual. I ‘m very studious, obviously, and preferred to concentrate on my studies rather than partying. Because of that, I was never one of the “in girls” and never really popular with the boys. I never really dated much and never really cared if I did. I had a few close friends and that was enough for now. I knew my time would come.

I’m honest enough with myself to know that I’m not exactly pretty in the ways that teenaged boys view pretty but I think I have promise. I saw from old pictures that I look just like Mom did at 18 and she’s aged into one of the most beautiful women I know. Think Cate Blanchett and you’ll be in the ballpark.

My brother, Peter, will be a senior this year. He’s also 18 – I think they used to call it “Irish twins” – also on the swim team, also at the top of his class. Unlike me, he IS popular — especially with the girls — and he dates a lot. He’s 6’ 3″, 180 pounds, brown hair, hazel eyes, with the perfect swimmer’s body and an easy air. Think Ryan Lochte’s body with George Clooney’s personality and you’ll be in the ballpark.

We’ve had very, very privileged lives. My father is a vascular surgeon with his own practice. My mother is an attorney working for one of the major casinos here in Las Vegas. They have a great marriage and they’ve been super good parents. Also, as an aside, Mom’s pretty well connected, so Peter and I have seen just about every big-time show in Vegas in the past five or six years.

My grades were good enough to get me a full-ride scholarship to Cornell, Mom’s alma mater, in Ithica, NY where I’ll be pre-med. Dorm life isn’t for me so one of Mom’s classmates still in Ithica helped me hook up with three other undergrads to share a four-bedroom house off-campus. Unlike the dorms. The house had plenty of parking so I wanted to take my car, a two-year-old Subaru Forester that would be ideal in winter weather.

Per Google Maps the trip would be just over 2,500 miles and would take about 37 hours on the road. Dad was too busy to go; Mom was in the middle of a big litigation. So, my brother offered to go with me — to share the driving and help me move in.

Mom and Dad were skeptical; that’s a long, long way for two new drivers to go. But they ultimately agreed under three conditions. That we limit our driving to ten hours per day. That we drive only during the day, never at night. And that we stay in national brand motels in large population centers — never a Bates Motel in the boonies. They agreed to pay for Peter to fly back to Vegas afterward. The “rules” dictated not going through Denver — it was over eleven hours away — so we planned a southern route through Albuquerque and Tulsa before finishing with a final stop in Indianapolis. On the chance that we might make better time than planned, we both brought our passports to give us the option of a side trip to Niagara Falls.

We got a little bit of a late start on day one, arriving in the outskirts of Albuquerque nine hours later at 7 pm. We were tired. Yes, we’re young but it was a late night with friends the night before and a hard drive today. We found a Holiday Inn Express just off I-40 and asked for a room with two beds, but all of their vacancies had a single king-sized bed. We were too exhausted to hunt for a different motel; we just wanted to stop driving. We checked into our room, got directed to a half-decent Mexican restaurant for dinner and were back in the room by 10 pm. I showered and put on my pj’s then Peter did the same. We lay on the bed, watching TV for just a little while and then turned off the light.

I was a little chilly; the air conditioner was on too high. I asked if I could cuddle for warmth and, of course, he agreed, so I spooned him, sharing his pillow. A while later I rolled over and he spooned me. It was a bit strange but I wasn’t even a bit uncomfortable with it. It was just Peter and I was nice and cozy.

It was 2 am when I got up to pee. I came back to the bed and there was Peter, asleep on his back, with his erect penis tenting up the covers. I didn’t know what to do. Should I get back into bed with my brother’s erect penis? That felt wrong. Should I stay out of bed even though he was sound asleep and oblivious? That didn’t feel right, either. Either way, I was curious; I’d never seen an erect penis. I sat in a chair for a few minutes hoping it would go away but it didn’t and I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

I decided to crawl back into bed and face away but two minutes later I turned to face him so I could see it. Five minutes later I couldn’t help myself. I lifted the covers up a little bit to sneak a peek. I was disappointed; he was wearing pj’s and there was nothing to see except something different being tented.

It was killing me. I have no idea why, but I was obsessed.

I took another chance and reached out to gently touch him, all the time watching him in case he started to wake up. He didn’t stir. I gave the shaft a gentle squeeze. He was rock hard — I had no idea penises could get that hard — and he still didn’t wake up. I ran my finger along the length of him and heard him say “Why are you touching my dick?”

I was startled and jerked my hand away. I was ashamed shamed of myself. “I’m sorry, Peter. It was hard and it was tenting the covers, and I was curious. I’ve never seen a penis up close. I couldn’t help myself. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t seem angry; in fact, he had a quizzical look on his face. He scooted up to lean on his elbow and he studied my face for a few seconds. “There’s no way you’ve never seen a penis before.”

“No, honest. I never have. I’m sorry. I was totally out of line.”

“I’m really surprised. You’re a pretty girl.”

“Do you really think I’m pretty?”

“Well, duh! All the guys at school think you’re pretty. But you kind of intimidate them; they know they’re mental children compared to you. And you were always so busy.”

I was surprised but secretly happy to know that I wasn’t as plain as I’d imagined. “Thanks for telling me. And I’m really sorry for what just happened. I was just curious; I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s fine, Amy. And, really, if you’re that curious I don’t mind if you look. It’s just a dick and it’s not like we’ll be having sex or anything.”

I didn’t know how to respond. My brother had just suggested that I look at his penis — which, to be fair, is exactly what I just tried to do. I nodded. He stripped of his pj’s and lay back, his dick jutting into the air above his navel. “It’s all yours.”

I sat on my knees between his legs. I lifted his balls and felt the testicles roll around. The scrotum, itself, was large enough to fill my hand and I wondered how a man could sit without crushing his balls.

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