Sin and Atonement

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“Balu,” said my twin sister Meena casually as if she was asking me to pass salt at the dining table, “can you give me some of your semen?”

“What do you mean my semen?”

“A sample of your semen for testing,” she said. .

“Sure,” I said. I took the thick glass cup she offered and went into my room.

My sister is a clinical lab technician. She left her job in a large hospital and is setting up her own private lab. She has rented a suitable place in Bazaar Street of our small town near Trichy in southern India. Painting and carpentry works were going on in the building, meanwhile the equipment she has ordered has piled up in our house. Meena has set up her microscope in her room and was trying it out; hence the request for my semen.

A sister asking her brother for a sample of his semen is likely to get the brother into a curious frame of mind. No, it was not sexual excitement; it was something else that I am quite unable to describe. Whatever the reason I was not able to masturbate. I could get the erection but I could not get to the point of ejaculating. I tried and tried till by forearm muscles became sore. I had to give up.

“Sorry Meena I could not.”

“What do you mean ‘could not.’ In our lab men get samples in a jiffy.

“If their sisters ask for semen samples they may not also be able to get it in a jiffy either,” I said annoyed. I was unhappy that I had failed in this rudimentary test for manhood.

“Look here Balu with difficulty I have got things ready for full scale semen testing. It cost me quite a bit. The last thing I expected was for you to let me down.”

“I tried my best.”

“Why don’t you open up your lap top? I believe most men have a collection of porn there.”

“I tried that too.”

“You have seen me in the nude. Think of that.”

“I did that too.”

“Really? That’s interesting. What more do you need. Do you want me to strip?”

When Meena was talking about my having seen her in the nude she was not referring to our childhood days much less our days in our mother’s womb. I must explain the circumstances under which in an orthodox Hindu family in the conservative society of rural southern India a brother can see his grown up sister in the nude. Our family consists of my widowed mother who at 38 is quite youthful, my sister and I both 20 years old. My father a long time sufferer from rheumatic heart disease died two years ago. .

We live in the ancient part of our small town. Our house must be over a hundred years old. The houses in our part of the town are country tiled with a pyol in front. The wooden door, thick and heavy with decorations leads into a central spacious courtyard with a well in the centre and rooms on front, left side and the back. The kitchen and store room are on the right side of the entrance as prescribed in Vastu shastra. The well has dried up some years ago. We live not far from the Cauvery River but thanks to numerous dams built along its 300 mile course the river is also dry except during the monsoon season. But our municipality supplies piped water. Each house has one pipe. Ours is in the court yard next to the well. We get water for two hours in the morning from four to six. That is all for the day. We have to bathe early in the morning and after that collect as much as possible in casks for the rest of the day.

I am the owner of the cloth shop that my father had inherited from his father who by diligence and honesty has made the shop the best known in our populous agricultural taluk (county). My father kept up the reputation of the shop and as he was aware that he had only a few more years to live he has trained me from early years to run the shop. My mother is supervisor in a tailoring export factory near Trichy. The factory bus picks her up at seven in the morning and drops her back at six in the evening. My mother is up at four to start her chores. When the water starts dripping she is already there in order not miss even a drop of our precious allotment. She bathes and then sister bathes. I get up at five and bathe hurriedly. Before six when the water stops we have to collect water for the rest of the day.

We do not have a bathroom in our house. The granite platform built round the well is our bathroom. (The lavatory is well away from the house in the compound. If my late grandmother had known that in modern houses the lavatories are inside the houses she would be greatly scandalised.) My mother and sister use the parapet wall round the well as screen and bathe. I tie a towel round my waist and bathe. My mother is not as careful as my sister is during bathing. Even my sister when she leaves after the bath at times runs across to her room in the nude. When I am recuperating from fever my mother would take a day’s leave and warm water for my bath. She would bathe me not sparing attention to my penis and scrotum. Likewise when my sister is in periods (and consequently unclean in our culture) I will help my mother when she has her weekly head bath. realitykings porno She would crouch in the nude and I will attend to her scalp and then withdraw. Yes I have seen both my sister and mother in the nude vulva and all. In short in our home we are not that ashamed of our bodies as people are in our parts.

Back to my story where I am considering my sister’s poser: “Do you want me to strip?” It was clear that she was desperate for the specimen. I took the cup from her and went back to my room to give another try. This time I had problem even maintaining an erection. I came out empty handed. Sister took the cup from me and left the room. Her body language was not of one accepting defeat. I had no idea what her plan was, if any.

When she came back soon after she stunned me absolutely. She had a thin towel tied at arm pit level and nothing else. It was how she covered herself when she slipped back to her room after bathing (at times as I have said before she would run back in the nude). The towel came up to mid thigh.

“Will this do?” she asked.

“Do you expect me to masturbate while you watch?” I asked.

“Unless you get into the TV carton lying in the store room with the head protruding out.” she said and laughed.

“Cheap joke,” I said.

“I have seen your thing many times. I can’t she why you are making a fuss about it. Think of me as a nurse.”

“I do not think that patients in hospital have to masturbate before nurses,” I said.

“Don’t take it literally. You cannot let me down.”

My sister’s boldness surprised me. I hesitated. Masturbating with my sister looking on was something I would have considered unthinkable a few minutes before she came with her request.

“I’ll try again with you image in mind,” I said and taking the cup I left for my room. I was so confused that I could not get an erection. I came out.

“OK,” I said and boldly throwing away my dhoti I sat on the low chair and took hold of my penis. Meena was standing arms akimbo a metre from where I sat. I looked at her and started. I think it was because we were twins that made us participate is something so daring. Brother and sister twins are closer to each other than brothers and sisters who have not shared wombs.

We did not make eye contact for I was looking at her scantily covered body and her eyes were riveted on my fingers working on the penis.

“I am not getting proper erection,” I said for such was the case. My penis was turgid but not hard enough.

“Will this help,” she said and without opening out she loosened the towel and slid it down to her waist.

My sister has a pair of magnificent breasts. Large with just that sag their size demanded. The areolas were broad and the nipples indescribably lovely. My penis responded in kind. It was erect with an upward pointing tip.


“Perfect,” I said. We made eye contact but it was only for a fraction of a second for sister looked away at once. No, she did not blush, neither did she smile.

“Almost there,” I said but for some reason I was not able to ejaculate. Meena must have noticed that I was having difficulty in surmounting the final hurdle.

“How about now,” she said and removed the towel altogether. I gasped. I have seen her nude but not front on and not with her standing still with the specific object of letting me have an eye full. She was like a temple sculpture. Narrow waist and broad hips with shapely thighs with a puffy clean shaven vulva the slit of which was unblemished but for a prominence at the top to show where the hood hid the clitoris. And then she parted her legs just a bit. That did the trick.

“The cup, hand me the cup” I said. Meena took the cup from the cot and hurriedly brought it to the tip of the penis. No sooner was it in place semen started pulsating out. Part of the first spurt missed the cup and landed on the back of Meena’s left hand. The rest was in the cup. The flow soon ceased. Meena placed the cup on the bed and taking hold of my penis she squeezed it and collected the few drops that came out on two slides. She placed the slides next to the cup and using soft paper wipes she cleaned my penis thoroughly. She retracted the prepuce and cleaned behind the glans and then replaced the prepuce. That done she collected her specimens and left.

“You have not wiped your hand,” I said as she was leaving. She looked at the spot of semen on the back of her hand as if wondering what to do about it and then she deliberately licked it. “I can give the report straightaway. You have no diabetes,” she said and chuckled. I sat in a daze.

“Come Balu and see,” she called from her room, “look at your dancing sperms.” I looked into the microscope and saw my sperms wriggling about, countless numbers of them.


I nodded.

“Now go and lie down and rest. I will bring you milk and almonds.” In our parts men consume almonds because it is supposed to promote sexual vigour. I would rip her up porno have liked to relax on the sofa reenacting the event but I had to go to my shop. .

The next three days nothing happened for sister was in her periods. On the fourth day Meena was at home as the workers who were getting her lab ready were on leave. We had lunch and I had my afternoon nap. At three I woke up. I went to the kitchen. Meena was preparing coffee. We had coffee and snacks

“I want semen again Balu,” she said. I went to my room. Meena followed bringing the cup to collect the specimen and some glass slides and wipes.

“You get on the cot,” she said in the tone nurses order patients, “I will do it for you. I know I can do it better.”

“What do you mean by ‘do it’?”

“I’ll masturbate you.”

“But, but,” I said in half hearted protest. I liked the idea. Her soft hand on my penis as she squeezed it of semen was still green in my memory.

“Don’t be difficult Balu. Remove that dhoti and lie down. You can watch me as I strip. I believe that brings on erection.” So saying she started undressing. She removed her sari and then her blouse. She was now in her skirt and bra. The bra was the first to go exposing those lovely breasts of hers. Then with eyes fixed on me she undid the skirt tape. She wriggled a bit and the skirt dropped down in slow motion exposing her lower abdomen, and groin and finally that puffy vulva. I was erect and rearing to go.

She allowing me time to drink in her beauty. She climbed on the cot and made me recline on pillows. She rested with her knees modestly close together between my legs. She was ready to start. My penis had already subsided to medium hardness. I like to think I am as virile as any man can be. I attribute this tendency of my penis to lose hardness so readily to the fact it was my sister who was confronting me. But Meena was up to the task of reviving it. Her pose of keeping her thighs together she must have thought was an error. She now brought my thighs together and rested her knees on either side of my thighs. Her vulval lips were now apart and I could see a bit of the redness of the vagina. She caught hold of my penile shaft and moved her hand to and fro. It was then that I noticed moisture in her vulval opening. She was more sexually aroused as I was. Soon she was not just moist but pouring.

She looked up and saw my eyes focused on her vulva. She looked down and saw what she must have felt—secretions dripping from her vulva. So far she was resting on her knees. Now she squatted with feet on the mattress. Her vulva was widely open. She lifting up her buttocks and moved her feet forwards little by little. Her vagina was coming closer and closer to my now hard penis in her firm grip. And then a little maneuvering and she neatly threaded my penis into her vagina. She pressed and with a perceptible jerk her hymen ruptured. I was fully and deeply into my sister.

“Excuse my darling brother,” she said, “I just did not have the power to resist.”

“I am glad it happened,” I said, “or I would have burst.”

“Fondle me,” she said. She took my hand and placed it on her breast. I ran my hand across its smoothness and when I came to the nipple I gently plucked it.

“Suck me,” she said. She came forward holding up her breast and bringing the nipple to my lips. I held it between my lips and with teeth covered with my indrawn lips and gave a firm bite. She moaned.

‘Kiss me,” she said. Her lips sought my lips and we locked in a passionate tongue lashing kiss. She moved her hips up and down. My penis moved in and out smoothly like a well lubricated piston. She moaned again. Soon her hips were vibrating rather than moving. And then it happened. As I ejaculated she had the first of her three climaxes. She screamed softly as she climaxed. She then had two more. It was of her own doing. From the dominant position on top she was able to grind her clitoris on by pubis to get those extras that women value so much. We lay exhausted with sister on top of me. It was then that both of us were suddenly aware that mother has returned early that day and was watching us from less than six feet away. She was standing still like a statue with a face devoid of all expression.

A combination of emotions of which fear and embarrassment were foremost paralysed me. I could not move a muscle. Meena was made of sterner stuff. She kissed me on the lips and got up. She put on her skirt and holding her crumpled sari against her breasts with one hand she went up to mother. She took her hand in hers and led her out of the room. I crept to the door and peeped. Meena and mother were in the room they shared. As I was watching the door opened and sister came out in her skirt but bare breasted. She squatted on the bath floor and washed herself. This understandably took a while for had not only to clean the vagina and vulva of semen but also her thighs and lower abdomen all of which were wet with her secretions. rus porno She then went back to the room and closed the door. It was time for me to go to the shop. I washed and changed and left locking the main door from outside. All three of us had keys to that lock. That was the reason why mother was able to come in without our knowing it.

I have very little remembrance of what happened in the shop that evening. My first sexual intercourse, something I have been dreaming of for years, had happened; the girl I had sex with and deflowered in the process was no other than a sister with whom I had shared the womb; and as if that was not enough our mother was watching it from within the room. I was not afraid of pregnancy for the day after end of periods is quite safe. My anxiety was about my mother’s reaction. The shock that her son and daughter were lovers could kill her. After closing shop I returned home with trepidation. I opened the door. Sister must have been waiting for me. She came out of the room. Her smile reassured me.

“Mother is sleeping,” she said. Mother often sleeps for an hour or two after returning from her factory. “I’ll tell you what happened. You can’t guess in a million tries. Yes, mother’s reaction is totally unexpected.” I’ll quote Meena.

“Amma came placidly as I led her out of the room. Her blank stare was alarming. ‘Are you OK Amma,’ I said. ‘Go and wash well,’ she said. I came out and did so. When I went back mother was lying facing the wall. ‘Come this side and lie down beside me,’ she said. She held me in a close embrace. We were silent for quite a while.

‘I was fifteen when I married,’ she said speaking softly, ‘even at that age I was eager for sex. From then on till your father’s passing I have been having sex regularly at least twice a week. Now that you have experienced I can tell you that even on days when your father was breathless from heart disease he would want me by his side. I would lie down nude beside him and he would hug me. For the past two years I am bursting with desire. Rubbing gives no relief. Men are there in plenty wanting me. There has not been a single day in then past two years when some man or other has not made sly signs that he wants to sleep with me. Hindu widows cannot marry and men in our parts know our weakness and try to exploit. I have no choice but to resist for even if I yield once I am gone, gone for ever. The community will shun me. I can understand how much you two have suffered. It is better that Balu has you rather than some prostitute. And please only when the desire becomes great and be very careful about pregnancy.'”

“The last thing I expected Balu,” said my sister,” was mother to bless us. But I was more concerned about her. Her starvation from sex is so intense that she may yield and as a family we will be doomed in this our ultra conservative rural society.”

“What are we to do?” I asked her.

“Do you get any ideas?” She spoke in a tone that suggested that she knew I could get ideas. I could too but it was so horrible that the very thought made me shiver. “I have been thinking about it,” she continued as if I had spoken my thoughts, “I do not find it that bad. You help mother during head bath when I am out of bounds, and you massage her back with her buttocks all exposed when she has low back ache. This is just one step removed.”

“The very thought makes my head go round and round.”

“Mother may not be averse to it.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked her.”

“You mean you suggested it to mother. How did you have the nerve to do that?”

“I will do anything to save mother from becoming a lust object for other men Balu, anything. What about you.”

“What did she say?”

“She was horrified at first. I told her that as Hindus do not allow widow remarriage our customs sanction widows to have taboo relationships under exceptional circumstances. Young widows can thus have sexual relationships with brothers and grown up sons.”

“I have not heard of such customs.”

“That does not mean that they do not exist.”

“What happened next?”

“I pressed and she gradually became less and less vehement in her objections. Just as you are excited to see her nude she likes to see you in the nude too.”

“What do you mean I am excited to see her in the nude.”

“You are Balu. I have seen you ogling her when she is bathing and I can see her excitement when she is bathing you on those occasions when you are recovering from fever.”

“You were watching were you?”

“Of course. With great excitement.”

“I won’t be surprised if both of you wanted me to fall sick from time to time.”

“That’s going too far,” she said laughing. “Anyway I have given a razor to mother to shave herself. I told her you like it that way.”

“Razor? To mother? And where did you get the notion that I like it that way?’

“A woman must be at her best when she presents herself before a man even if it is her son. That is what Kama Sudra says. As for you liking shaved things I know. Please deny it if I am wrong.”

I was silent.

“What next?”

“We’ll play by the ear,” said Meena. Mother-son the very thought seemed so horrible. With my morals already loosened Meena could sell me the idea without difficulty.

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