MidReal Story

Forbidden Love: A Taboo Affair's Enduring Passion

Scenario: A boy likes his older sister. She is very pretty. He seduces her and makes love to her. They both confess their love to each other. This continues even after their marriage.
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A boy likes his older sister. She is very pretty. He seduces her and makes love to her. They both confess their love to each other. This continues even after their marriage.
Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.
I held a hand out to her as she reached the base of the tree, offering to help her up the ladder, but she waved me off, grabbing the next rung instead.
I was ten years old the first time I realized I loved my sister.
I could tell she wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what to say.
I watched her climb, not sure why she was so upset.
I knew she’d had a rough day, but I didn’t understand what Mike’s message had said.
And if I was being completely honest with myself, neither did I.
I didn’t know what love was at that age, but I knew I felt something for her that I didn’t feel for anyone else.
I’d asked her about it earlier, hoping to get some answers, but she’d refused to talk about it.
It was a feeling that made me want to protect her, to make her happy, and to keep her safe.
I’d spent so many years pretending to be someone I wasn’t, but now that pretense was starting to wear thin.
It was only a matter of time before someone saw through it, saw me for who and what I truly was.
I remember the day like it was yesterday.
And even though I’d seen the message with my own two eyes, I still didn’t understand why it would make her so upset.
“I’m not mad,” she said once she’d reached the top, sitting down beside me on the old wooden floor.
Liz and I were playing in the backyard when she fell off the swing and scraped her knee.
But at the same time, there was still a part of me that wanted to believe this was all in my head.
She started crying, and I ran to her side, not sure what to do.
That maybe, just maybe, those feelings really were nothing more than a figment of my imagination, and there was nothing to be afraid of after all.
She leaned back against the trunk of the tree, letting out a long breath.
I’d never seen her cry before, and it broke my heart.
“I’m just tired.”
I wanted to believe that more than anything, but deep down inside, I knew it wasn’t true.
“Tired of what?”
I wanted to make it better, but I didn’t know how.
I could feel it in the way my heart raced every time she looked at me, in the way my body responded to her touch, no matter how innocent or fleeting it might be.
It was real, and it wasn’t going away anytime soon.
I asked, moving closer to her so our sides were touching.
So I did the only thing I could think of—I kissed her knee and told her it would be okay.
And then, just when I thought things couldn’t get any more complicated, Liz leaned in and pressed her lips to mine, pulling me out of my thoughts.
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to.
And you know what?
It worked.
At first, it took me by surprise.
I knew what she was thinking.
I’d never kissed a girl before, and especially not one who happened to be my sister.
She stopped crying and looked at me with those big blue eyes of hers, and in that moment, I knew she was going to be okay.
She was tired of being alone, of trying to find someone who could make her happy.
She was tired of waiting for the one who was always going to be out of reach.
I never thought much of that day back then, but as I got older and started to understand what love was, I realized that moment was the perfect representation of how I felt about her.
But after a few moments, that initial shock gave way to something else.
It wasn’t just the way she looked at me that day, or the way she smiled when I kissed her knee.
“I remember when we were kids and you were afraid of heights,” I said after a long pause, hoping it would help lighten the mood.
Something I’d never experienced before, but that felt strangely familiar all the same.
It was everything.
Liz turned her head to look at me, smiling softly.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was, but it didn’t take me long to realize that maybe, just maybe, those feelings weren’t as wrong as I’d once thought they were.
“I remember that too.”
Maybe, just maybe, they were exactly what we needed to get through this.
It was the connection we shared, the way we were able to communicate without saying a word, and the way we always seemed to know what the other was thinking.
To get through everything that had come between us.
“How did you ever get over it?”
It was the bond that had been there from the moment she was born, and it was as strong as ever.
“I had you to help me.”
I wasn’t sure if that made me a bad person or not, but at that moment, it didn’t seem to matter.
But most of all, it was the way I would have done anything to make her pain go away, even if it meant taking it on myself.
All that mattered was her: her soft lips against mine, her warm body pressed up against me, her sweet scent filling the air around us.
And that was how I knew I loved her.
“Yeah, I guess you did.”
That was all that mattered, and as we sat there in our childhood home’s living room, with no one around to see us, no one around to judge us, all of those things seemed to fade away.
When Liz and I were younger, I used to follow her around like a lost puppy.
We sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other’s company.
They seemed to disappear into thin air, replaced instead by something new.
And then, out of nowhere, Liz reached out and placed her hand on top of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.
I went everywhere she did and did everything she did, even when I didn’t want to.
Something different than anything either of us had ever experienced before.
It was an innocent gesture, but it sent a jolt through me that I’d never experienced before.
I was her shadow, always there but never really a part of the picture.
A jolt that left me feeling confused and guilty.
As we got older, though, things changed.
So when Liz leaned in and rested her head on my shoulder a few moments later, all of those thoughts and doubts went out the window.
I started to come into my own, making my own friends and doing my own thing, but my love for Liz never wavered.
I reached out and wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her close as she let out a contented sigh.
I tried to shake it off, but it was no use.
The longer our hands remained connected, the stronger the feeling became, until I couldn’t take it anymore.
Even when we were apart, she was always on my mind, in one way or another.
She smelled like vanilla and lavender, and as she snuggled up against me, I could feel her soft skin against mine.
“Liz,” I started, pulling my hand away from hers as if I’d been burned.
And when we were together, I constantly had to remind myself that she was off-limits—that no matter how much I might want her, I could never have her.
My heart raced as she moved closer still, wrapping her arms around me as she buried her face in my chest.
That had been my reality for as long as I could remember, and I’d come to terms with it long ago.
“What are you doing?”
I wanted to tell her that we shouldn’t be doing this, that it wasn’t right.
But then everything changed.
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She turned toward me fully now, her eyes wide with confusion.
“What do you mean?”
As Liz’s thirtieth birthday approached, she started to get anxious about settling down.
She’d been in a few serious relationships over the years, but none of them had lasted very long.
“What I mean is,” I started again, trying to find the right words to explain my discomfort.
With each passing year, she’d become more convinced that she’d be single forever.
I didn’t know what it was, but there was something about her touch that was different.
Something about it that made me feel things I’d never felt before.
And try as I might to reassure her that there was nothing wrong with being alone, she wasn’t having any of it.
So when Mike came into our lives and seemed to be everything she’d ever wanted in a man, I couldn’t help but be happy for her.
Things I didn’t want to feel, especially not for her.
It was wrong, and I knew it, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny it.
Until he wasn’t.
I’d spent most of my life pretending those feelings didn’t exist, telling myself they were nothing more than a product of my overactive imagination.
Until he showed his true colors and broke her heart in the process.
Liz felt like a fool for believing his lies and letting herself get so wrapped up in him, but she didn’t want to talk about it.
But now I knew better.
She didn’t want to see anyone—at least at first—and all she wanted was to be alone.
She wasn’t just my sister anymore.
She was so much more than that, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t scare me.
But for some reason, that wasn’t something I could allow.
“Don’t be mad,” I said from my perch in our treehouse later that night, watching as Liz made her way across the yard toward me.
“Liz,” I started again, taking a deep breath as I looked into her eyes.
She’d just finished talking to Mike and was clearly upset, but I didn’t know why.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what?”
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“You know what,” I said, reaching out to cup her face with my hands.
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