Sleepwalker - Sex Stories

Sleepwalker

... or your disease.” “It’s not a fucking disease!” she snapped, “It’s a brain twitch or something, I’m normal, I think normal, I act normal, I look normal. I’m not perverted or diseased!” I had to calm her down. “Okay, sit over there at my laptop and Google up this condition and let me read about it, I’ll skip my date with Kerry.” Tara looked up at me “You would stand up a girl for me?” “She’s not very interesting anyway; I’ll probably have more fun reading about your twisted head.” Tara could hear the tease in my voice and smiled “You’re an asshole for sure.” “And you are perverted, you fucked your brother.” As she turned away she fired her own taunt, “Yeah, but it wasn’t memorable, so much for you.” I called Kerry and begged off the date with some lame excuse. Tara sat at my desk and looked up several medical articles about somnambulism. After about an hour and two bottles of beer I had a better understanding of what might be happening in my sister’s head. She closed down the search engine and sat with me on the sofa, sipping her second beer. I’d gotten some general information about sleepwalkers but I still didn’t know about my sister’s particular habits. “Tell me what you do when you sleep walk. I mean you say you don’t remember but you see the things you’ve done. What’s it like?” “It happens maybe once or twice a month. I’ll wake up in the mornings and my hair will be in a ponytail or I’ll have pins and clasps in it. Every time I do I try hard to remember doing it but I ...

... don’t. I see the clutter at my vanity and know I sat there and messed with my hair.” What about other stuff? Ever find out you’ve done anything else?” “You mean besides balling my own brother? No, I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I had sex while sleepwalking. I’ve been fucked in my sleep before but you have to expect that when you spend the night with some guy.” “What triggers the episodes?” “I don’t know, I always try hard to remember what I was doing or if I was stressed or anything before I went to bed but I never found a pattern. Maybe it has something to do with sun spots or something.” “Can I help; is there anything I can do to help you find out what or why this happens?” Tara looked at me with tender eyes “You want to help me, you really care that much?” “Of course, you’re my sister, I care that much, and if I can help you find out what triggers these little night time activities, maybe you can get over them.” “What could you do that the fucking head doctors haven’t tried already?” She sounded angry, frustrated. “For starters you say you’ve been keeping track of when this happens?” “Uh huh, I started a diary a long time ago, when I did something and what I did.” “Ever try to analyze the days or dates to find anything common or a pattern of occurrences? Does this happen when you are near or on your period?” “No, I have separate cycles, my menstrual and my head, they don’t match up.” “Let me help put it all together, bring your notes over and maybe we can figure out ...