David is an 18 year old Senior in High School
And Sara is a 20 year old Freshman in College
It was the geography of the place that led to it all.
That’s my excuse anyway.
My parents are divorced, and all of us live at home with my mom. My brother, my sister and me. We can’t afford much and so I share a room with my brother, and the room isn’t big so we have bunk beds. My sister gets her own room and so does mom.
I work and saved money so I could buy one of those flat screen LED TVs which, because it was mine, I could keep in my room. We don’t have central air, what we do have is old non working window air conditioners that can get the temperature in the house down about ten degrees from outside and it is HOT, sweaty and hot.
So my little brother lays on the bottom bunk and I lay on the top bunk, we don’t move around much lately, to watch TV and sometimes just to read. My sister likes to come in our room and watch TV too. She either lays on the bottom bunk with my little brother or the top bunk with me, and there is no regular pattern to it. Not like she is on the bottom bunk then the top every other time. It’s random, so when she comes in who knows.
I lay so my head is at the top of my bed, and when she gets up on the bunk with me, she lays with her head at the bottom of the bed, usually on the right side and just hangs her chin over the edge to watch.
That is the geography. That is how it all started.
My sister has long straight hair, sort of dishwater blond. She would be what you would call a late bloomer, but now she has a great figure. The change was so gradual that when it hit me it was like whoa. Today she would be described as cute, almost hot. She is a total tom boy, and looks a lot like the Daisy Mae cartoon character from L’il Abner, and she sure dresses that way! She is somewhat popular at school but none of us do much as far as activities. Oh, she is also tall and smart, and this makes her a little fearsome to boys in general, added to the fact she does not put up with much shit.
Like I said, it was hot and the house was hot, so I was wearing shorts and no T shirt. My sister was wearing short shorts and a halter top which, while wearing that, she was definitely hot. She was up on my bed watching TV, a show I was not interested in so I was reading. As I lay there I would glance up, looking over her body and for some reason that is what I kept doing this time. I noticed her breathing. Her halter was up high across her back, and her short shorts where tucked up tight between her legs, so I could see the crack of her ass. The way she was laying was also giving me a perfect side view of the edge of her breasts, their curve, the way they were held in that little halter. I had never ever before just lay and looked at her like that before, other than noticing at some point that she was pretty cute and sometimes hot. She didn’t look back at me, she was just watching the TV.
At some point I decided to touch her.
I don’t know why, I have no idea where the thought even came from, and my heart started pounding hard in my chest the moment the idea came to me. My arms started to tingle as I lay my hand right on her leg. I just lay it there, almost like it were an accident, right at the thigh. I waited. Until she would shew me away, or I don’t know what. Her skin was soft and warm, she did not even register my touch. I thought she would like brush my hand away, or look back at me, give me a frown. Or something. But there was just no reaction. I left my hand there a long time, and she let me.
At some point I moved my hand, just a little, little wiggles of my fingers waiting for a reaction. But got none. It was weird, I was really expecting something, and was expecting to be stopped.
Her long hair was this messy mane falling around her shoulders, her feet were crossed at the ankle and her back was shiny with sweat from the heat below where her halter crossed at the middle of her back down to her shorts. I stroked my hand along the length of her thigh, along the back of her leg, and took in the feel of her skin, the curve of her thighs and got used to the fact that she did not react at all. So I began to rub my hands on the inside of her thighs, short strokes there, but then longer from her knees to just before the fabric of her shorts, feeling myself getting incredibly aroused as I did that. I also rubbed her calves awhile and her feet, but then I would rub her thighs back up higher until without any reaction at all I lay the palm of my hand right over her butt, right over the fabric of her shorts. It was really thin fabric and I could feel her panties under the shorts. They were tight, that cheap kind of fabric, fuzzy and thin, like running pants fabric. They were loose around her thighs, but tight over her butt, and I began to rub her ass over the fabric and then back down onto her thighs. I kept rubbing her all over like that.
Never once did she react, or look at me, or shoo me away.
When suddenly, for no reason at all, she lifted herself up and swung off the bed and left the room. Was it because of me, what I did? Was she mad? Did she like it?
That is how my little indiscretion was left that day.
I have to say honestly that I was wracked with guilt. Touching Sara was something I could not stop thinking about, especially at night. And I had done it three times now! The same thing, the same way. Every time I saw her I could feel myself get warm, feel my ears turn red, but on her part there was absolutely no acknowledgment or indication that it had happened, or that she thought anything of it.
I would lay in my bed at night holding my hand in the air, the one I stroked her body with, stretching my fingers up over my face, imagining how they had caressed her smooth skin, imagining the curves of her soft thighs, the bare skin, how I rubbed her ass beneath that thin fabric, and the exquisite feel of her as my hand dipped down between her thighs. I could just feel her bare skin, its warmth and moist resistance on these hot days.
I lay in bed thinking about how Sara would come into the room, she would look up at me and down at my brother, standing there a moment deciding where to lay down. How my heart raced as she stood there – would she, this time, decide to crawl in with me? I cannot describe the feeling when she jumped up onto my bed and settled in beside me. The look of her legs, her ankles crossed up by my shoulder, and the feel of her thighs when I began rubbing her legs. As I lay there thinking about it all, I would tug my hard cock out and stroke myself as I would go over every detail, until hot spurts of cum would spray out of me and I would turn over and finally fall asleep.
But I felt guilty and tried to stop, vowing to never let it happen again.
I would lay on my bed looking at her body, as she lay watching TV. Sara laying down on her stomach with her chin over the edge of the bed, her bare legs extending up right beside me. I truly tried not to touch her; and once, one time I did not. But it was overwhelming, the urge.
I had become an utter pervert, and I would chastise myself for thinking about my sister, of doing this to my sister. What had it been? Five, six times now. But, she never stopped me. She was complicit. I convinced myself the only reason I was doing this was because she would not stop me. No resistance to my touch at all, had she batted me away once, it would be over. One look. I’d never do it again.
Her gaze on me at the breakfast table displayed not even a hint that I had touched her, run my fingers up her long legs the day before, or stroked her soft ass and squeezed her thighs up high between her legs, or slid my hands over her lower back, slippery with sweat.
I had a hard time talking when she was around now. Not like we sat around having deep conversations, but we did talk about stuff, normal stuff. The simplest utterances were a greater effort for me now. I was always wondering what she was thinking. I had this whole side dialog anytime we talked, anytime she even looked at me, some sign. Our birthdays were coming up, which was something we could talk about. We were one year apart, both Geminis. We celebrated them at the same time with the family, and then would have separate parties with our friends. We usually got something for each other.
One morning she sat next to me on the swing on the front porch, intent on a conversation. Every time she sat beside me now I startled, half expecting her to talk about IT, or give me some sort of look. But she never did.
She just sat down and said, “Hey. I have a question. I haven’t decided what I’m going to get you for your birthday yet. You already got everything. Any ideas?”
I shrugged, “No. Don’t get me anything. I don’t need anything.” It was the guilt talking. I could have said, no not after what you are already ‘giving’ me.
She continued, “Ok. Well, I haven’t decided, but I got some ideas, of where I can look anyway. If you think of anything …”
“Better start looking then.”
She went to get up and then paused, “What about me?”
“Huh. Oh. You’ll see.” She sat staring at me. I had no idea what to get her, this was getting uncomfortable.
“A lot of fun you are. You’re supposed to tease me a little, give me hints about it, make me guess, you know.”
“Well it’s soft.” Why did I just say that. My mind was drifting to her legs.
“That’s the hint.”
She bit, “What color is it then?”
“Red,” I said. Great, now I got to find something soft and red.
“It’s got to be clothes.”
“It could be socks.”
“Or Underwear.” I went red, at such an intimate detail coming from her mouth.
Sara looked at me again, a coy smile just then.
“Nothing.” She got up.
I called after her, “Well it’s not underwear.”
She looked back. Her eyes on me, made me nervous all over again.
That evening she was still on the present thing. I was getting supper ready while mom had the night shift. Sara padded barefoot in the kitchen, tiny little shorts and a tube top. It was just us kids tonight.
Sara watched me for a while, when she said, “Does something special happen between us on our birthday?”
I just about spilled the milk when she said that.
“Uh, Like what?”
“I mean because our birthdays are so close. Some connection. Something personal.”
“I mean we almost share the same day, you know. Both Geminis, the sign of the twins. It’s a sign like where there are two, there are two sides of us. A visible part, and a hidden part.”
“Never thought about it.”
“Tell me something.”
I looked up.
“Tell me a secret,” she smiled.
Nothing, day after day of nothing, and now this. I have to stop doing what I am doing was all I could think of. It can’t go on. I was blushing crimson and didn’t know where to look. What is she hinting at? She ignored utterly how awkward I was just then. This game. This has to stop, I am going to be in big trouble. I could not stop thinking about it.
“I don’t have any secrets,” I said it as I stared at the food I was frying.
Sara pointed at herself, “I’m your secret. So, you do have a secret.” Sara leaned in close by my ear. I could feel her shoulder brush against my arm, whispering, “How about this. You sometimes sneak out here by my door and peek in when the door is open. Once I saw you up by the staircase, hiding and watching, there, you could see right through my door.”
I just about melted, and had nothing to say. Lately, On nights when she did not come into my room, I would go check on what she was doing, stand back so she couldn’t see me.
She continued without stopping, “You think you’re gonna catch me at something? I know when you do it. I can always tell. You have a certain way of walking down the stairs. You know, extra slow, so the squeaks on the steps are spaced out. I can hear it, I know it is you. Sometimes I even think you’re listening to me when I’m talking on the telephone.”
It was all whispered and all said really fast, without any rancor or anger. Not accusing.
“What are you talking about?”
Sara shrugged. “I don’t know. Just making conversation. Seeing if you had anything to tell me. Want to hear any of MY secrets David?”
“No. Quit being weird.”
She smiled at me over her shoulder, “When is dinner ready?”
“In five minutes.”
It was a number of days, at least a week, before Sara came to watch television after that evening conversation about secrets.
I stopped peeking in her room. So she would no longer hear the slow squeak of my sneaking up on her. I had also solemnly resolved to stop touching her, no matter what. It was not right, not wrong exactly, but the feelings inside were definitely not normal or right for a brother to have. And that conversation that was burned in my brain, what if she said something to someone. What did she say already about it to her friends? What kind of a joke would I be then? Or pervert.
Then one day, about a week later, Sara came in the room, my heart jumped into my throat. She looked down at my brother, and then up and me, stood there a moment before jumping in next to me on the top bunk and lay down beside me like she always does.
Only this time, instead of shorts, she had on a blue jean skirt, also very short. She was barefoot as usual and was wearing a halter top as usual. No comment, no eye contact, normal like every other time.
No big deal. I was not going to do anything.
I held my book in my hand, held it in front of my face, could see it shaking as I read. My heart was pounding and I could feel myself grow immediately hard. I glanced up her long legs, the space of bare skin at the small of her back, the edge of her breasts, her tangled hair falling down her back, her legs crossed at the ankles.
I felt like I could not breathe.
Fuck she looked good. No.
I started to watch TV, lay my book down. Could not read anyway.
No. I was not going to.
But she would let me.
Her legs looked so white and soft, warm, and her ass in that tight short skirt. She did not move, just laying there watching the TV, chin over the edge of the bed and her one arm extending up over her head.
I lay my hand at her calf.
I took my hand away, took my book up again. Read!! I put it down, not even able to see the letter, and lay my hand on her again. In my mind I was screaming STOP! I began drawing small circles on her, began stroking along her thighs, slipping my fingers down between her legs, her inner thighs, lightly stroking up the inside of her legs. Only this time she wasn’t wearing any shorts. I was looking up her legs as I stroked her, the open space between her legs.
God, I had to stop, but with each smooth stroke of her skin, the warmth of her body, so intoxicating. How she let me do this.
I continued to stroke my hands softly over her legs, down her calves and up to the edge of her miniskirt, up to where her shorts would be, nothing there – so much more inviting. I could reach up into her open skirt if I wanted. I slid my hand a little more, further than I ever had. My hear was pounding in my chest. She slid the tiniest bit back, and I yanked my hand away. The skirt slipping higher at the movement so that I could just make out the bulge of her panties between her legs. Red. I could not take my eyes away, her little panty covered puss. They looked pretty much like the shorts she always wore, smaller, more like a bathing suit. But they weren’t shorts, they were her panties. Red panties. I lay my hand on her again, and as she lay there I caressed her thighs.
I began to rub higher, as she was watching TV. No one else was home except my brother on the bottom bunk. No one said anything. My hand drawing these long delicious strokes up her legs, letting my fingers caress her up the inside of her thighs with the front of my hand as high as I dared, before drawing my hand back down between her legs rubbing her with the back of my hand along the other leg as I did. Over and over I did this. One leg and then the other. Then, I lay my hand on her ass the way I always had.
The fabric of the blue jean skirt was thicker, rougher, it did not have the same feel as when she wore those thin shorts. I looked up her legs at the open space between her legs. I rubbed my hand for a little while over her ass, over the heavy fabric of her skirt, and dropping back down onto her bare legs, her soft beautiful legs.
I thought about touching her under her skirt. Oh, my god, that thought almost made me cum right there. Out of control. No. I was stroking her legs, reaching higher and higher, right to edge of her skirt, the littlest bit further, and back down again and then higher and on the next stroke up the inside of her thighs passing the edge of her skirt further further. My hand lay now ever so slightly beneath the skirt. I could feel the hem of her skirt on the back of my fingers, feel that her skin was warmer here, and I held my hand right there a very long time. She did not move, did not stop me at all.
I could feel the curve of her bare ass with my fingers, and I rubbed a little higher until my fingers touched the silk red panties covering her ass, just the hem. The edge of her panties, up under her skirt. I lay my hand at the curve of her bare ass with the tips of my fingers touching her silk panties, and once more did not move my hand at all. I was just drinking her in, feeling the curve of her body. Melting. The heat of her was melting me, my hand trembling as I held to her.
But Sara gave no indication that my hand was under her skirt. She dropped her head slightly to the side, that was all. No movement, no waving of her hand, no clamping of her legs. Nothing.
I didn’t look at her after that, I didn’t want to meet her eyes. I knew I should stop, but I did not want to be stopped by her.
After a long while, I reached further up under her skirt, pressing my hand right over the top of her ass over the panties, could feel the thin soft silk that covered her body. This was much thinner than the shorts she normally wore, and beneath the fabric I could feel her bare skin. The red fabric that covered her felt like it was burning into my hand. I realized the top of her skirt gave easily as I pressed my hand over her ass. The skirt was not tight on her at all.
I closed my eyes as I let my fingers press down along the silk fabric, finding the crack of her ass, I let my fingers slip down over the fabric right between her legs, right over her soft pussy lips.
Oh my god. So soft and hot.
She would stop me now.
I drew my fingers down between her legs this time, pressing the whole length of her pussy mound, that little space between her legs opening right to her vagina, her pussy, her mound, her clit. The fabric was no more than an inch wide. I could literally feel the soft hairs of her pussy peeking out from the edges of the fabric.
She lay there, did not move at all. Letting me, though I detected her breathing a little faster, nothing more.
I tipped my hand my open palm completely covered her puss, my fingers wrapped around the front of her pussy mound, with my palm wrapping up between her legs, cupping her. I began to stroke up between her legs with my thumb before pushing my middle finger against her, making a crease in the panties, pressing right into her pussy lips and letting it open around my finger. I began sliding my middle finger on her until I felt the nob of her clit beneath the silk fabric. The fabric was wet, I was rubbing my thumb right over a wet spot that was growing between her legs.
Her legs had been wide enough that her pussy was open to my touch and her skirt had ridden higher as I rubbed her so that it was now laying right at the top of her ass, and her panties were half exposed to me. She had to feel the cool air on her ass. I could feel her pussy getting hotter and wetter, the bare flesh of her cunny digging into the fabric. I could feel her breathing getting faster, feel her getting aroused.
I watched her head drop a little again, her movements becoming more involuntary, a little sway in her hips.
I curled my fingers and began lightly scratch my nails along the fabric of those soft silk panties, petting her front to back right over the mound of her puss, drawing my nails back along the fabric, itching her. Repeating the motion, slow, long strokes, over and over.
With each stroke down between her legs I was catching her clit and pressing there firmly each time. She kept watching the TV, but when my fingers were busy circling around her clit I could feel her pressing back into my hand, feel the undulation of her hips and could see the rise and fall of her hips over my hand. I could scarcely believe the pressure I felt, of Sara rubbing her body into my hand, grinding herself into my fingers, circling her clit around my fingers. For my part I pressed back harder up between her legs.
It’s what we did, letting it happen. I stopped thinking about stopping.
I was caressing her, scrapping my fingers front to back, front to back, lightly over the fabric, moving my fingers gradually faster. Touching her beneath that little jean skirt. She was laid out before me, I loved watching her body moving ever so slightly against my hand, and the way her ass would tip high and then back down, watching her legs stretch taut, watching her curl her toes. It was imperceptible at first, but as I moved on her she was moving more openly, she was pressing her apart and tipping her hips in rhythm to my touch, as my fingers played between her legs.
My fingers began slipping as I stroked her. She was getting so wet, I could feel her getting wetter and wetter. She had soaked her panties so that my fingers slipped on her almost feeling as if she had nothing on.
On one pass I continued right up her backside, lazily following the crack of her ass, my hand sliding over the silk fabric to the hem at her waist, feeling the jean skirt stretch as I curled my fingers around the hem of her panties and began to tug them down. She froze.
She would stop me now I thought.
I was steadily tugging them down beneath her skirt, could feel her panties sliding over the curve of her ass. Reaching at her sides I tugged the hep at each hip, until they were down to the edge of the bottom of her skirt. But no response, she simply let me tug them lower right over her ass and then down her thighs. I could feel her body hold utterly still. It was as if her whole body was melting, relaxing, falling in anticipation. But to look at her, she did not move at all as I tugged those red panties down her legs, past her knees, down to her ankles.
She was not moving away, not trying to shake me off. At one point I felt her hips rise lightly, so as to aid the removal of her panties. So slowly, a little at a time, I worked them down her long legs, and off the end of her feet where I tucked them under my pillow.
When I looked back up at her, there was her bare pussy! Pink and shining, the swollen pussy lips and dark hairs of her cunny framing its pink center. The line running down between her legs, the folds of loose flesh swollen out from her slit. I brought my hand back up her thighs and lay it, palm up, right over her bare pussy cupping her with the flat of my hand, and once again began pressing my middle finger into the folds of her pussy lips, began rubbing her between her legs.
It was incredible, the feel of her. She was soaking sopping wet, and her pussy lips opening to me so softly. I could feel the flesh pulling wide, hanging down between her legs like a little peach, as I pressed my fingers and dug into her wet ridge. She was so soft, opening right up to me. I slipped my finger down between her legs and once more found her little clit. I heard her gasp – the only sound she made – at the moment I touched tip of her clit. That little nub, and as I drew a circle there could feel her involuntarily tense her whole body. The reaction was an arch of her back that lifted her hips right up off the bed. I was looking right at her pink little cunt, her legs spreading wider, I had pulled her pussy lips wide and could see her vagina creaming white. My middle finger was reaching down and was set right over her clit, with my thumb I pressed it deep up into her vagina, and held her like that with my open hand. No matter how she moved I was slipping inside her, stimulating her, masturbating her. She moved against my hand, breathing faster, and lifting her hips up. The feeling of her body tensing and releasing, the feel of her breathing, my cock ached at the sight of her.
It was then I stopped moving. I held my hand right there for her, with my middle finger pressing into her clit and my thumb shoved up inside her. I held myself still for her, letting her move her body against me. The slightest undulation on my hand, the tiniest circles being drawn over my finger. Grinding her cunt onto my thumb, shoving herself, impaling herself against me.
Her hips trembled now as she ground herself into my hand, guiding my finger right around the rim of her clit and pushing down so that its little hood would press back, letting me dig into her. All slippery and hard, it felt like a white pearl playing around my finger; and then sliding my hand back, her inner lips loose, swoolen, feeling for that space inside her. I was watching my fingers move on her pushing deep up into her vagina, watching her as I did, for some sign, something that told me what she felt. No matter how she moved I was digging into her body, touching her, masturbating her.
I held to her like that a long time, and as I did she was moving herself harder and faster, turning herself on me. I could feel her body trembling, as her legs stretched out tight on the bed, when her vagina began to quiver and tighten on my thumb.
She was near to cumming. I would make her cum. I could feel the pulse of her pussy, contracting and releasing. Her breathing was rapid, but she kept it even and still watching TV, so that her face displayed no sign she was cumming. Her chin still over the edge of the bed. I rubbed the rough flesh in her vagina, finger fucking her, letting my hand move on her again as she met my thrusts.
When next her body began to quiver and spasm, the only other thing I noticed was her hand grasping the blankets and squeezing her hands into balls into the bed as she lifted her ass into the air. Her thighs and cunny shaking over my finger as I dug into her, and I could feel her cunt squeezing me, pulsing against me, see her gripping the blankets. I could feel her cumming hard, holding back from making any sound at all. It was amazing. At one point she pressed her mouth into the sheets, like she was biting down. Her eyes closed. I reached out my other hand and held her bare hips, her skirt was up around her waist now, and I began scratching my nails down her thighs.
Her body shaking and quivering, still cumming. It was so intense! She held herself perfectly still, and then began to relax and fall back down into the bed. Realizing she was naked from the waist down I pulled her skirt back around her ass.
She lay there a little while longer, before jumping off the bed and leaving the room.
Only then did I realize what I had done.
I could not have imagined that yesterday could have happened. I had given my sister an orgasm, and now I was beyond nervous to go downstairs.
How do you greet someone whom you secretly masturbated?
But I did not want to be weird, things had to be ok, normal. Plus I was curious, what would she do. Was she mad? I had to find out. I had to get it out of the way.
My hands did not even feel like they were a part of my body. I could still feel Sara, the slippery wetness, the pressure of her vagina, the pressure of her body, pussy hairs. I could still smell her scent on my fingers. I had masturbated so many times already sniffing her panties, my fingers. It was such a delicious smell. Exquisite.
What would happen when I saw her? No one else would be up, and I was trying to decide if I should see her alone or wait until mom or Billy were up. I pulled on my T shirt and a pair of shorts, deciding it was best to see her when the house was quiet, and went downstairs.
As expected, she was in the kitchen. Making coffee. I passed by her, she did not turn to me, and sat down.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
As the coffee brewed, she was standing at the counter with a small book that was open into which she was writing. I said nothing. Finally, she turned and looked at me. The only thing that I noticed is how when she caught my eye, she held her gaze on me a little longer than usual. Her smile gave away nothing, it was the same as always, but the way she held my eye.
“Hi,” was all she said.
No anger or warning, or nervousness. I noticed her put the small book she had into her robe pocket.
She poured the coffee, two cups, one for me and one for her and walked over to the table.
“Here. Mom was called into work.”
“Want anything?” The way she stood in front of me, the tone of her voice, it was like an invite to molest her.
She walked away saying, “Breakfast, I was going to make some eggs.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Sure. That would be great.” I sounded nervous.
She made up some eggs, bacon, toast. I was imagining what may be under her robe as she stood at the sink. With her turned from me, I could openly look at her. There was something different this morning, and I could not put my finger on it. Sara seemed more attractive, I was drawn to her. That feeling you get, of attraction. The nervousness of arousal, we were almost flirting. The eye contact was a little longer than usual, the way she twisted her hair in her hands when she was talking.
“This is nice. Thanks.” I am thinking the whole time, be as normal as you can.
I began to eat in silence. No idea what to say.
“You have a long face today,” she said over her cup.
“Oh, yeah? No. Just tired, still. Uh, what were you writing?”
“Writing? Oh,” She lay her hand over her pocket, “It’s just a . . . I was writing a poem, in my diary.”
“You have a diary?” I had like this adrenaline rush, thinking about what she might write in there. Was she writing about us? She had to be. I was feeling very guilty and very paranoid. What if someone else read it?
“Hmmm, Yeah, it is, I always write stuff in my diary, poems, stories. Things that happen in my day.” She held her eye on me as she said the last bit, I looking away as she caught my eye.
I felt myself get nervous again. She keeps a diary.
I changed the subject, “Did you invite Marnie? To our party.”
Sara flashed me a look. “Yeah, why?”
I shrugged, “No reason.”
“You like her, don’t you?”
“Same as, you like Mike.”
She paused a moment before adding, “Let me tell you something about Marnie.” Then she paused, “No, I’d better not tell you. You’d blab.”
I quickly responded, “I’d never give away any of your secrets.”
To which she flashed me a quick smile, looking into my eyes, “And I’d never reveal any of yours.”
I sensed just the hint of a blush on her cheeks.
I looked right at her and said, “For that you get a little reward.”
I held out a spoonful of eggs, “Here.”
“No. I’m fine. I’m done.”
“Here.” I wanted her to lean to me. In that moment I wanted to touch her, it felt like we could hold each other just then. Be intimate. Our bodies were communicating in a language all their own. She leaned in, and her robe fell open a little. I could see down the front of her robe, the swell of her breasts.
I said playfully, “Put your head back. Close your eyes.”
She eyed me, but did it. The look of her throat, exposed.
“Open your mouth.”
She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. I held her chin with my hand *touched her* as I fed her, watched her lips close around the spoon and then tugged it away.
“You can have one little bite.”
I could not control that urge just then. It was weird. Her compliance, the touch of her skin.
That afternoon I was laying on my bed reading. No TV, silence and the quiet room. Everyone was out of the house, mom at work. My little brother out playing, Sara out somewhere.
Or I thought they were.
Suddenly, Sara appeared and hopped up on the bed and lay right next to me, not like when she is watching TV.
“Hi. What you doing?”
“What does it look like. Reading. I thought you were gone with Marnie.”
“Hmmm. Didn’t want to go.”
And she lay herself next to me, stared at the ceiling. I continued reading, my heart pounding in my chest. Not knowing what to say, we were home alone.
Sara held her arms straight up and turned them back and forth. “You know, my tan is much darker than yours now.”
I didn’t respond.
“From swimming. Lift up your arm.”
I set my book down and did the same. Four arms lifted straight up.
She brought her arms down and turned her whole body to me. Never had Sara been like this.
“Well. What should we do now?”
I looked over at her, “Uh, we can fix lunch.”
I picked up my book to read.
“No, I’m not hungry yet.”
She just lay there staring silently at me. I could feel her eyes on me when finally I turned, “Well, what do you want to do?”
“Why don’t we play a game?”
“A game? Come on. I don’t think…”
“I know some good games. Like, Truth or Dare.”
That caught me off guard. There were some things I did not want to talk about with Sara today. “I don’t think so, when you ever play that?”
She rolled back again, “Well, I played it with Mike one time. Well, not JUST Mike.” And then rolling back to her side facing me. “Come on David! First question. You first, all right. Truth or Dare?”
“I don’t think.” When finally relenting, “Truth.”
She paused a moment and then asked, “Do you have any secret talents?”
Everything she was saying today I was taking two ways, and immediately my mind went to us on THIS bed, me giving her an orgasm. Special talent – yeah, I can give a woman a mind blowing orgasm.
Instead, I simply held my arm straight out and let my elbow bend way back, “I can do this.”
She stared up at my arm, it was like a twenty degree angle the wrong way.
“Look at that. Weird.”
“Your joints are screwed up. What else can you do?”
“I can bend my thumb all the way back so it touches my wrist. See?” And so I pulled my thumb right back tight against my wrist.
She reached across to bend my thumb back with her hand and scraped her arm across my cheek as she did.
“You need a shave,” and then she was touching my chin and cheek with her hands.
“I haven’t shaved yet.”
“Ok. Your turn.”
I said, “Truth or Dare.”
“Have you ever kissed . . .”
She playfully jumped up, “Yes!”
“No wait. I didn’t ask what I was going to ask. I was going to ask ‘Have you ever kissed MIKE.”
She looked at me, “No, forget it. I don’t want to answer that! It’ll get everywhere!”
“Tell me. I won’t share your secrets. besides your reaction already told me.”
“Yes.” She frowned.
“That’s another question, I answered your stupid question and it’s my turn now, say nothing. Truth or Dare.”
She smiled at that, and thought for a long time. “I dare you to say something dirty for twenty seconds.”
She was giggling, “You heard me. Talk dirty for twenty seconds,” she lay on her side facing me now, her eyes locked on me.
“What do I say? Ok. Ok. “Ahh, Pussy so soft and wet. I love eating hot cunnies, and squeezing big tits and sucking, so good. You have the best sweet little pussy ever,” and I froze – fuck was I was thinking of her! “Is that twenty seconds?”
God that had given me a hard on, and I needed to adjust.
“Pretty nasty,” she smiled. “But Good, yeah. Your turn.”
“Truth or Dare?”
She lay on her back and said up into the ceiling, “Dare.”
Shit. I felt a heat rise in me. What could I dare her to do. She was wearing those little shorts again today, and a fluffy white tube top, nothing on her shoulders. I looked at her a long time, the shape of her mouth, her eyes staring at me, her hair all laid out on my bed. God she looked hot.
“I dare you to kiss me for twenty seconds.” My face flushed beet red.
Her eyes went wide and she turned her head to me. “What!” And lifting up on one elbow she sat up right at my hip. A little smile came across her face, “Ok.
She leaned down and put her lips on mine, simply holding her lips to mine. Her eyes were closed. She had her hand on my neck as she kissed me, so soft. I did not quite know what to do. Here we were kissing on my bed. I had her naked from the waist down yesterday, incredible. She opened her mouth the tiniest bit and bit my lower lip, I pushed it out and let her and she responded by running her tongue right along the ridge of my lower tongue, before letting me go.
“Wow.” I said when she sat back up. “You’re a good kisser.”
“You do naughty dares. Truth or Dare?” She was flushed and her lips were swollen. We were gradually getting aroused.
I said, “Dare.”
She lay back down on her back, “Well I dare you to kiss ME, with your tongue for twenty seconds.”
I went absolutely rock hard. Sara lifted her arms above her head, waiting.
I pressed my lips to hers and felt her open her mouth, I just melted. My tongue touched hers a moment and we let them swirl together, I traced the line of her teeth and rolled myself a little onto her so my chest was laying on her breast. She tipped her head back and we french kissed, for it had to be longer than twenty seconds. I finally lifted my face from her.
She opened her eyes, “That was bad.”
I smiled, “An innocent kiss.”
“No one can know about this.”
We both got quiet, we were both pretty aroused, too aroused.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.”
I said, “You started it.” Her eyes got wide as she looked at me, the implication being obvious. “Today I mean. You came in here.”
She looked off in the distance, thinking. “I let you do stuff I only let a boyfriend do you know.”
“Are you mad? You could have stopped me.”
She shook her head. “I’m sittin up here aren’t I. It’s silly fun David. I don’t want it to be any more. I don’t want you to think it can be any more, I worry about that.”
“Don’t. I know that.”
“It’s just that. You can’t always control feelings. I like you, as a brother, I mean and don’t want to lose that. Ever.”
She looked at me. “We have to stop. It’s silly fun, it feels good, but if anybody found out.”
I didn’t say anything. She was right, but I felt empty.
I just said, “Anymore Truth or Dare?”
After that afternoon, nothing happened anymore between Sara and me.
In a way, it was a relief. But at the same time depressing, the anticipation, the excitement, the ‘silly fun’ she had called it. The feel of her skin, her mouth, her tongue. It was over. I had memories, AND her panties.
Between us, when we saw each other, it was as if nothing had ever happened. I began to relax, feel more like my old self. Whenever she came in my room to watch TV, I felt a sudden pang, a moment of adrenaline run through me. But every time she stood in the doorway, looking up at me and then down at my brother; every time she slid into the lower bunk.
Never up with me.
For my part I had resolved to stop, no matter what. She was right. We are brother and sister. And after our conversation, my intention was stronger than ever. But, honestly, when I watched her there avoiding getting up in bed with me, there was a rush relief because, for all my ‘resolve’ I really questioned whether it would have been very likely that had Sara lain on my bed for any of the last ten times she’d been in our room, I would have not touched her.
So, it took both of us – got easier with time.
In terms of our conversations, the issue never came up again, she never broached it nor I. Non of our secrets, games or truth or dare.
The other thing that was never spoken of between us was that she had, in fact, begun to do way more things with Mike after we had stopped doing what we had been doing. So Mike had become my stand in – or so I thought of it. Mike is my best friend, and HE never talked about it. I could only imagine what they were doing, and there was a part of me that believed that she had told him not to talk about it with me.
What I felt was jealousy.
I also worried about Sara saying something, anything, even a hint. I could tell by all our friends behavior, hers and mine, that she had never breathed a word about what we had done, and it is true that Mike probably didn’t talk about anything with me, not because she told him to, but because he knew she was my sister, especially the way guys can talk about who they are seeing. No other reason than that.
But, he had no idea. For my part, I felt a jealousy, more than I had ever felt before about anyone.
My anger and jealousies came out in subtle ways, though I tried really hard to control it. I am sure Sara knew, and I figured she might know why.
AND despite everything I could not stop thinking about her. The times I touched her was like this distant dream, that I could conjure up any time I wanted, this alternate reality that was slowly fading into the past, but that I could still remember as a fantasy. And I wanted to remember it, and would masturbate furiously as I did.
I was out one night and happened upon Sara and Mike. I was riveted to the spot and watched from a distance. It was hard to see, but no doubt I could make out her frame, the way she stood and moved. She was wearing this little dress, leaning the whole front of her body against him. A dress! Wearing a dress! Not like she wore a lot of clothes, but a dress is one piece of clothing. How delicious that would be. I could picture the access to her pussy in a dress, the way it hugged her waist, and those long legs. She was really beautiful and Mike was with her talking, they were laughing. She had her arm around him, pressing up to him, and then I watched them kiss, and I could feel the kiss. My mind rocketing back to her kiss of me, and my kiss of her. I could feel her tongue, her teeth, the way she tipped her head back, the feeling of her yielding her soft lips. I looked away, my cheeks burning.
I stayed hidden in the shadows watching as they laughed and kissed. I went home in a very uneven mood.
Next day was a Saturday and I, casually as I could, tried to talk to her about it.
“I saw you sitting with Mike the other day. Are you you two together? You never told me.”
“Me? No. No, Mike just happened to sit down with us.”
“Us. I think I only saw YOU.” She was lieing.
Sara looked frustrated, “No. I was with Marnie. Definitely. What business is it of your, you spying on me again?”
“No. Sara, it’s No big deal. I just thought I saw you, s’all. It’s only just, mom said no dates while you are living here.”
Sara turned on me, “She never said NO DATES.”
“Well she did say she does not want you bringing guys home. And that would, make Mike pretty convenient wouldn’t it? Dating him, since he’s my . . .”
“Listen! What do you mean, no dates? First. Mom never said that. He was just sitting there with, us. Second, I’m not really dating Mike, so he comes here. It’s to see you. I’m not bringing him home.”
“Yeah.” The kind of yeah where I called Her lie. “He’s MY best friend. I don’t want you around him – like that. What happens when you two break up? When he comes around then, to see me?”
“You’re a fine one to talk about this with. You my mom or something! I don’t have to justify myself to you. Nothings happening. God!”
“Ok. Forget it. No big deal. No big deal. It’s just . . .” I’d gone too far, I don’t know what I wanted from this conversation.
“Jesus David. It wasn’t.”
“Sorry. Just saying I saw you. Making conversation.”
“Ask Marnie. SHE was with me. You’d like to talk to HER anyway. Any rules with her around here? Mom! She’s MY best friend, by the way.”
“But we’d both be in high school. Your in college. Mike’s in high school and your here cause . . .”
“Forget it. This conversation is over. Just ask Marnie.”
“Well, Ok. Yeah. But I want to ask you something about Marnie then?”
“Oh no, YOU can’t have her. She belongs to me. She’s MY friend.”
“I’ll just ignore that. Now you’re being stupid. See Mike! I don’t care, it’s fine, I don’t care. Marnie would never have anything to do with me anyway, she’s a Freshman.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“I wanted to ask, have you told her anything about, like secrets? Anything.”
There was a long pause. Like a light going on.
“Secrets?” I shouldn’t have said anything. “No, have YOU said anything to Mike?”
“You think I’m nuts don’t you?”
The air went out of her just then. “I don’t think anything David. No. I haven’t said anything.” She calmed down. Softened. “Is that what this is about?”
“It’s just conversation.”
“You have to stop it. Forget anything ever happened.”
“Understand. Cause if this all gets out of hand, we might have to see what ‘mom’ thinks we should do, since mom has the say in everything. What do you think she would say about our secret.”
“Tell Mom what?”
“You know what.”
“No, I don’t think that would be very funny.”
“I wonder what she’d say about that? She’d be a hell of a lot more upset than me bringing a guy home, wouldn’t she?”
I didn’t know what to say, or what she meant. I did not want to know.
It was over. In a way I had not even accepted up to then.
I didn’t care if Mike saw Sara.
At least that’s what I said every day. Mike didn’t talk about it, and I didn’t talk about it with either of them.
Mike would come over ostensibly to see me, but invariably end up spending some time with Sara either downstairs or in her room. I didn’t keep track, I didn’t care.
Mike and I were watching TV one day, he on the bottom bunk and me on top, when Sara came into the room.
She stood in the same spot as when she decides which bunk to get into. She looked down at Mike and then up at me. I didn’t even move, or consider.
She hopped up and lay down next to me. Mike was on the bottom bunk, and Sara jumped in next to me on the top bunk. I could not even comprehend what had just happened.
Mike called out, “Hey, lay down here.”
Sara didn’t answer, just laid on her stomach with her chin over the bed, her legs laying right beside me.
My heart just about exploded.
She was wearing a pair of those pink short shorts, all tugged up tight around her hips. She was wearing a small V neck half top. Her long legs and bare skin from her hips to the middle of her back. She was barefoot as usual, legs crossed at the ankle, just watching the TV.
It had been at least a month, and two weeks since our fight. My hands were visibly trembling. Was she testing me? Teasing me? What the hell was this?
No way was I going to touch her. She just lay there, the way she always does. Did not move.
I started to think about what she would do if I DID touch her, just touched her a little. She would stop me now I thought. There is no way, she would be mad at me. I kept thinking this, over and over. I was looking up her legs. Last time Sara laid in that spot like that her skirt was up around her waist and I had taken her panties.
Her panties! Shit, they were still tucked under the mattress. I had never given them back. I was hard now. Rock hard.
I could test her.
Would SHE stop me.
No, I was not going to do it.
I lay my hand on her leg, and held it in one spot on her. I was shaking so bad that I could barely hold it still. She did not move, not at all. No indications, just her watching TV.
Swat my hand away. Stop me. I was angry. Excited. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. It was too much.
Why did she get up on top? Why not next to Mike?
I began to rub along the length of her thigh, right up to the edge of her shorts and down her long legs, rubbing her calves, the inside of her thighs. Long delicious strokes. It had been so long. Sara letting me, no movement. I rubbed one leg and then the other, slow long strokes on her.
I decided to raise the stakes, and settled my hand on her butt again. Not moving just lay it on her. Mike couldn’t see. She did not even react to my touch, not the soft caress of my hands or my eyes on her body. I pressed my fingers into the crack of her ass, wriggling my fingers on her, and slipping lower down her soft ass, noticing something different on my way to her thighs.
No panties! Fucking shit!!
She had to know. She had put those shorts on without panties underneath. Came in here, and hopped up here with me. I slid my hand along her legs again, caressing inside her thighs, long strokes with the front and back of my hand. She just lay there with her ankles crossed, her legs apart.
I slipped my fingers inside the loose leg of her shorts, and wiggled it up to her bare cunny, feeling the warmth and light pussy hair. I felt her legs open, as she brought her one knee up. She was letting me, giving me perfect access. She wanted this! I was touching her again. My hand was rubbing her pussy. I could not believe this was happening.
I slipped my fingers along her slit, and her pussy was soaking sopping wet, she had been wet the whole time. I was so hard now as I began to run my fingers up and down her sex, opening her cunny lips and settling my middle finger right over her clit. Just as I touched her there she began to dance on the end of my finger, drawing circles with her around my hand. I let my finger dig into the hood of her clit, rubbing her back and forth as she moved against me.
I found her sweet little hole with my thumb and squished it deep inside, I watched her visibly rise up off the bed as I did that. No matter how she moved now I was moving my hand on her, finger fucking her. She wiggled more freely on my hand, waving her ass in the air, in a steady rhythm that matched the movement of my fingers, faster and faster. I could see her tensing and gripping the blankets, shuddering on my hand. She was already cumming.
I watched Sara’s body twitching to my touch, could see her cunny with the leg of her shorts pushed to the side, and the whole time Mike is laying on the bottom bunk. She was leaning her hips back hard against my hand, and I could feel the quivering, her trembling as she came. I almost came in my pants as her orgasm spasmed on my thumb. I could feel her cumming, the way her vagina squeezed tight on my thumb. Her cheeks were so red, the tips of her ears. Her eyes were closed and her head tilted back, as it had that morning I fed her and the time I had kissed her. It was amazing, it seemed better than before.
She began to relax into the mattress, to pull her legs together a little, and continued to watch TV. Her puss was covered in cum that I had smeared all over as I rubbed her, and I continued to hold my hand cupped over her puss. Whenever I touched her clit though she would jerk and spasm, and began turning a little so that my hand dropped out of her pants. I smeared her pussy juices on her thighs as I once again made long soft strokes up her thighs. She continued laying there, taking deep breaths, no acknowlegement of what I had done. I rubbed my hand over her ass and over the crotch of her shorts, rubbing her pussy over the fabric. I stroked her bare back, and reached around squeezing her breasts over her top, basically touching her anywhere I wanted.
She lay there a little longer, not moving, not looking at me. Her breathing gradually slowing, settling.
Finally, she rolled up to a sitting position and saying to Mike, “Come on. I’m tired of this show.”
I watched her hop off the bed, and take his hand as they left.
She never even looked back at me.
After a few moments I closed my eyes, brought my fingers to my nose. Inhaled. Oh God!
I don’t know what I thought.
Mike could have caught us. Maybe he heard us.
It also included the realization that ‘this’ was not so easy a thing to stop between us. It might go for some weeks, but then, there it was.
And that it was her weakness, not just mine.
And it had to stop.
Mornings had become our time together.
When I came in she was sitting and eating cereal. No one else was up. We were the early birds.
I sat down and filled a bowl, poured in the milk.
Sara was sitting there with her robe, watching me as I came in and sat down. I saw nothing, or did I? This time it seemed a little different.
I had no idea where to start.
The clock had reset. Instead of one month, it had been one day. The awkwardness of it all, all over again. I was looking at her, wondering if she had anything on under her robe, could not stop the thought. It was open a little, forming a V, I could see her bare skin. My heart began punding, I felt myself flush a little.
Did she notice me looking? The way I looked at her. She pulled at it.
“Morning.” She met my eyes, smiled.
“Anyone else up?”
I kept eating.
“I want to tell you something. Know why I didn’t want to lay down next to Mike? Yesterday, I mean.”
I looked up from my bowl. “No.”
She looked at me with a wry smile, “Cause he can’t ever keep his fucking hands off of me…Just kidding. Stupid joke.”
She looked deflated.
I said, “I’m sorry.”
“No. David, it’s, it’s ok. I said we had to stop. And we do. But, yesterday, I didn’t want to. Just for a little while I didn’t want to. I’m the one whose sorry.”
“I tried, I really did.” We were speaking in a really low voice, and both of us kept looking at the door.
“So have I.”
“We went a month.”
“But I don’t know how it works when one of us stops.” She stretched out her hands and tugged the robe tight around herself. “It feels so good. Just to be touched. Innocent when you don’t think about it. You are so sweet about it.”
“I like it. I like touching you. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”
“And no one knows. I wrote about it a little in my diary, but I tore the pages out and threw them all away.”
“Yeah. So how do we stop?”
She stared off to the side a long time. “We keep trying. We have to be stronger. I can’t lay in your bed.” She looked at me. Serious. “Not anymore. Sorry.”
“It’s ok. I understand.”
We began eating, when she tipped her head up at me, “Do you think about me? I mean the last month, did you?”
“Me too. It was so sweet the way it feels, but it kept escalating. You know?”
“It’s my fault.”
“It’s our fault. It’s ok. And by the way, when can I have my panties back?”
I smiled, “Trade you for a fresh pair.”
Sara broke up with Mike, it was no big deal. It turned out she did not end up liking him that much. But the problem was that neither of us were going out with anyone, and I would get these urges and now I assumed she did too. She never got in the bed with me though. Never once. And that was good. But I could NOT stop thinking about her. It was like this obsession.
I went to her one time and asked, “Sara. One time. Just one time. Could we?”
She looked at me, stern. “No.”
“Just your legs, just soft touches on your legs?”
She closed her eyes, glancing to the side. Thinking. “You know we can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Would you let me kiss you?”
After a very long time, I don’t even know how long I heard my name being called in the house.
It was mom.
“Your sister wants you to help her with her algebra.”
“Yeah well your sister is taking high school algebra, and you know it better than anyone.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s in her room.”
My heart was beating in my chest when I went to her room and knocked. “Yeah.”
I went in and she looked up at me. She was in a really tiny halter top and shorts, the ones she always wears. A black pair. Her halter was yellow, it tied behind her neck. It was just a thin fabric running up and over her breasts. When she lay on her stomach you could see the curve of them. She did not have small breasts and in halters they really looked fantastic. It was a very hot day, and her room was warm. She had all her stuff laid out on the bed.
I had to be strong.
She sat up. “Mom tell you?”
So I sat on her bed and we went through the rules of algebra. I would have sat there all day helping her. At one point she was laying on her stomach reading, just the same way as when she lays on my bed watching TV. It totally reminded me of that and I could not stop looking.
The way she looked was overwhelming.
So, as she lay there I put my hand on her leg. She kept reading, did nothing. Here we were alone in her room with the door closed, I thought maybe. I began to slide my hand along her thigh.
In a very flat tone she said, “David.”
I took my hand away. “Sorry.”
“Help me,” and she started asking more questions. Finally, I told her she had to just work out a number of the problems to get the hang of it and that I would check them when she was done.
As she was working problems, once again I lay my hand on her leg.
My hand trembled as I held to her. “David.” She said again.
I quietly said, “Just your legs, let me just rub your legs.”
She said nothing, so as she worked her problems I began to run my hands over her legs. Because I was sitting beside her I could use both hands, up and down her long legs. She did not react at all to my touch. And for my part I simply rubbed her legs, nothing else, I did not want to stop.
Her narrow waist was bare and her shoulders. I loved the way her hair fell down over her shoulders, and I realized how I loved her smell.
She turned to me as I continued to rub her, it was the first time she looked at me with my hands on her body.
“Check these,” was all she said.
She handed them back and I went over them. Three problems and they were all correct.
“That is perfect. Great.”
And as I said that I rubbed my hand over her butt, stroking my hand down onto her thigh. She smiled and said, I’m going to try another one.
As she worked the problem I began to rub her legs again. She did only one problem this time and showed it to me. I looked and it was right.
“Great job, perfect.” I said, and this time as I did I caressed her breast, the bare skin that was not covered at the side of her halter. She was still laying on her stomach, and without reacting let me touch her breast like that.
I could not believe what I had just done. Or that she had let me.
“Ok. She said. “One more.”
She turned again and handed it back. “You’re getting it. Very good.” And again as I said it, this time I pressed my hand right under her halter and gave her entire breast a soft squeeze, more than filling my hand.
She let me.
As she worked the next problem, I was running my fingers over her ass, over the fabric of the shorts and then back down onto her thighs. I tried slipping my fingers under her shorts until I was touching her panties, but I felt her stiffen and pull her legs together. She said nothing, but I let go of her.
She handed back another problem.
And I reached my hand and caressed her bare breast beneath the fabric, and feeling her tight little nipple, I wrapped my fingers around and gave it a little squeeze. She lay on her stomach again working on her next problem, and I sat up higher and began to run my hand over her back, running along her shoulders and down the small of her back and then reaching around, began caressing her breasts again, squeezing her nipples.
She lowered her head down, letting the top of her head touch the paper she was working on.
“I can’t concentrate.”
She did not shoo me away, she just lay that way as I ran my hands over her entire body. Down her legs, up her thighs, the small of her back, down her arms, squeezing her breasts, and over her butt, under her shorts and over her panties, between her legs along the line of her puss. Anywhere I wanted to touch her. She had her arms at her side, letting me do anything I wanted to her.
For the longest time that is all I did, stroked and rubbed her, until she opened her eyes and pressed herself up, sitting cross legged in front of me. Her cheeks were red, her eyes glassy.
“Ahhh. David. Lets take a break!” We sat facing each other.
“Here, my turn.” She began tugging at my shoulders and pushing me down on the bed. “Lay down. I want to give you a massage.”
She was tugging my T shirt. “Take your shirt off.”
“What about mom?”
“She will think it’s hot. You always have your shirt off.” She pulled it off over my head as I lifted my arms.
I lay on my front, and she ran her hands softly over my back, down my legs. Over my shoulders and down my arms. After awhile she rubbed her hands right over my butt, same as I did to her, and back down onto my legs.
My shorts came down to mid thigh and were not short like hers, but they were very loose and she ran her hands up high along my inner thighs under the bottom of my shorts until she was just touching my underwear.
It felt so nice. Amazing.
“You like this?”
Her hand pressed up my shorts leg and then I felt her dipping her fingers into my boxers, and she was softly so softly rubbing my bear ass, when next I felt her fingers wiggling down between my legs, and she was grasping my balls in her hand, playing with them.
“Mmmmm.” I moaned.
I did and as I lay she was rubbing up the front of my legs, and then pressing her hands up the front of my shorts, right into my boxers, she ran her fingers along the whole length of my bare cock, and back down on my legs. Then running her fingers over my stomach and across my chest. I lay like that forever letting her run her hands over my body.
She wrapped her hand around my cock and began to squeeze me, and touching the tip of my penis she swirled the pre-cum down my shaft until it was all slippery at the top. She continued to stroke my cock in a regular rhythm, without stopping, firm and long strokes, faster and faster. I began to turn my head, and was so aroused. I could feel myself ready to cum.
She was kneeling by my side, and I reached my hand out and began to squeeze her breasts as she jacked me off. Her nipples were so hard, I squeezed on her breasts and she moved on my cock.
“Oh, God, I’m cumming.” I began to shake my hips as ribbons of cum exploded from me and all over her hands. I was pumping my cock in her hand, the cum making everything so slippery. I had never cum like that before. Spurts had shot up onto my stomach, and she scooped a little up and touched it to her tongue, eying me as she did.
I came back to earth, and we were sitting again, I looked at her, “Oh my God.”
“I think we were both a little bad.” She said playfully.
I was spent, realized she had not cum yet.
I said, “You want me to,” and lay my hand right between her legs.
She looked back at the door. “No. Moms going to wonder. We been in here long enough. That was for helping me.” As I got up she whispered in my ear, “Maybe once in a while is ok.”
That last time did it.
Something broke. Something was rising in us that was harder to control. It was a desire, it was lust beyond anything I had ever felt. I could not look at my sister now without my heart pounding, without an adrenaline rush. We had gone from trying to stop, to controlling the urges we felt when around each other; the way our hands brushed together at the dinner table, my blush when she met my eyes, how our breath changed when one of us walked in the room.
The first time we totally lost it was so sudden there was nothing we could do. And we were lucky.
One evening at home, mom was sitting in the living room and I was coming downstairs and turned into the kitchen entry. I do not even know where my little brother was. Sara was standing just to the right of the stairwell – our eyes met. In that moment everything was communicated, it just exploded.
She followed me around the corner and the moment we were out of sight, our bodies fell together. I was crushing her to me, kissing her, our mouths opening tongueing and tasting. My hands rubbing softly down her back as we kissed, squeezing her ass, shoving my hands down the back of her panties into the crack of her ass. She was grinding her crotch against me, opening her legs and I was so hard we ended up dry humping as we kissed, rocking our sexes together matching each others touch.
As I let go, her glassy eyes met mine, her cheeks red and we were dazed, realizing what had just happened. We began to gather ourselves.
I whispered, “Where was Brian?”
“I don’t know.”
I could just see mom around the corner, “Shit. We HAVE to be more careful.”
She nodded, still leaning on me me, my hand at the small of her back.
That was what was said now, not we have to stop.
And a new thought was formulating, more of a craving.
My fantasies imagining Sara naked, me lying on her, our skin sliding together, me fucking her.
God I wanted to fuck my sister.
I guess I assumed that she was thinking the same thing, but I did not want to say anything. Girls are different. It could really freak her out, but the way we were around each other. That feeling of wanting, having, of not being with her or touching her, but to feel myself up inside her.
I wanted to be in her. The feeling was this incredible ache.
We sat next to each other at the dinner table, and now my hand would find her leg, and I could watch as she melted. How we could sit eating together with our feet rubbing, my hand tickling along the inside of her thigh. Glancing over and seeing her little skirt ridden up high on her thigh, the curve of her panty covered puss peeking out for me to see. Her tease. I could barely look normal or talk. Yet we had to put out this total appearance of everything normal, even of not really liking each other very much. It was totally crazy.
The fact that Sara would press her body against me like she did when we snuck into corners to make out, and how hard I got as she rubbed her crotch on me gave me this image of how it would feel to fuck her, until the though would not let go. I took advantage of those moments by responding to her movement and pressing my covered cock along the front of her puss, lifting her a little so that she was rubbing against it hard, almost sitting on my cock. I know the pressure was pushing into and stimulating her clit, that the rhythm of our movement together as we did that was driving her wild.
It was this silent signal, I thought, of what I wanted to do to her and how she might let me.
In the mornings we tended to be the only ones up. The routine was her sitting at the table, or standing by the sink making coffee. I would look around, checking the rooms, and satisfied we were alone I’d lean down and give her a soft slow kiss before sitting across from her, or pulling her hair back from her shoulder and nibbling her neck.
She kept her robe around her, tied at the waist. But lately, she was not so concerned when it fell open. She would lean across the table toward me and look in my eyes as she would be making some point with her words, letting her robe fall away from her chest, not like I could see her nipples, but her breasts would hang down and be exposed so I could just see her naked breasts. She, noticing how I looked down her robe, with this half smile on her face, before settling back down.
This morning she gave me a terrific view of her pussy, letting her robe open wide around her thighs. Her hair was disheveled and she really really looked hot.
But her words belied her display.
As she sat there with her legs splayed, her dark pussy hairs winking in and out of view, she said, “I don’t think we been doing very well on our Agreement.”
“Yes, we were going to try harder. Try stop.” As she said that, she covered her bare bush with her hand. “You said it would take both of us.”
I was taken aback, but still. She was playing. Her game. I just said, “I AM, trying. Really. But, it’s so hard, I can’t stand it.”
“Hmmm. It looks a little hard right now. You swore to keep your side.”
I replied, “IF you keep yours.” I continued, “Have I once laid a hand on you where you didn’t want me to?”
“All the time.” She took her hand away from her bare puss, exposing her swollen lips to me and sipped her coffee, smiling.
I liked this little game.
I slid my chair closer.
“You. Don’t want this?” I reached out and pressed the palm of my hand between her legs, covering the hairs of her puss. She let out a moan and lowered her chin, looking at my hand. I squeezed my fingers into her soaking wet slit and finding her hole, dug two fingers into her. I watched as her hips lifted from the seat and her legs went wide open.
“Oh God. No.”
“Or this?” I began stroking my hand over her cunt, finger fucking her, until her head was tipped down against her chest, her eyes closed, and she was panting. Her hips rocking against my my hand.
Whispering, “Oh Fuck. Oh Fuck.”
She was pulling her robe closed, covering herself, with my hand hidden beneath the fabric as she writhed over my hand.
I whispered, “Have I ever forced myself on you?”
She was licking her lips, and with my words opened her eyes to look at me, and then staring down at my cock. I knew what she was thinking, and I knew what my words had meant, ‘forced myself on you.’ I broached it.
I felt her shudder, could feel how close she was to cumming, when I let my hand fall away from her.
In that moment a little bit of a plan began to formulate. I did not let her cum. Her eyes widened a little, surprised, as she collected herself, and sitting back at the table with her coffee as if nothing had happened. Ordinarily my touch would bring her over the edge, I would have made her cum, she would have spasmed in that chair and had a roaring orgasm.
But, I let go of her, and I left her a little hungrier than she would have been.
She pulled her robe tighter, “You better not.”
But I could see in her eyes how aroused she was still. The heat in her.
My ‘plan’ as it evolved had a very visible effect.
All week she was hopping up on my bed to watch TV, more than normal it seemed, and I would oblige, laying my hands on her. But now, brining her just to the edge, and then letting go of her. Not finishing her off. I had come to recognize her body, how to bring her off, and letting go I would start all over rubbing her, stroking her, loving her silky soft skin. She was so hungry, letting me roam my hands anywhere I wanted to go, shifting a little more than usual, trying to guide my hand back to business.
I can only imagine that she was off in her room rubbing herself to orgasm, but without me. I restrained myself. It wasn’t me.
By late in the week, I swear, she had a noticeable glow. An animal like quality, her movement and smell. She had stroked me off twice with her hand down my pants (quid pro quo?), but I held back.
I wanted her to be less than rational, horny, over the top. It was almost like being drunk, burying her reason in lust. She wanted me to make her cum, to cum against my hand; but, I wanted a little more – as usual.
Today was Saturday and a workday for mom. It was also a day that Billy would take off from the house and be gone most of the day, being over at friends houses, running around, whatever. Usually Sara was gone out as well shopping with friends or hanging out, but today she was home. The same was true for me. Saturday was our day to get away from each other.
But, today, I decided to stay home and see.
I lay on my bed reading, nonchalant. She padded into my doorway.
“What you doing?”
I looked up, “Reading.” I patted my bed. “Want to watch some TV?”
She swayed in the doorway, leaning herself against the frame, “S’Ok,” and padded off.
Ten minutes later she was walking by my open door. I didn’t look. Not ten minutes after that, I heard.
“Come in here a second.”
My heart lept. “What is it?” I tried to sound put out.
“I was thinking, want to play a game?”
I got up and stood in her doorway, “A game?”
“Yeah. Want to play Truth or Dare again?”
She was laid out on her bed, in a halter top and little thin fabric pleated skirt that came just above her knees. Patterns of flowers. She had no socks or shoes. I could just imagine what was underneath her innocent look.
I could feel my cock twitch. “Ok.”
She jumped up on her knees, bouncing on the bed as I sat down.
She said, “You first.”
I began, “Truth.”
The game tends to always start with Truth.
“Ok.” She leaned toward me, I want you to tell me a secret. I mean, one I don’t know. A good one.”
She went to a cross legged position and pressed her skirt down between her legs, tugging the edges up high on her thighs, settling in. Expectant.
I stared at her legs. Yum.
“Um. Here’s one I bet you don’t know. I keep a stash of porn under the bed in my room.”
She smiled at me, giggling and faking a frown when she said, “Sorry. I already know that one.”
“Hmmm Hmmm. ‘Fraid so. Mike told me. Pretty cool, how you made that shelf under Billy’s headboard.”
Mike was the only one who knew. I began to blush.
“He told you?”
She was giggling again, “He asked me if I wanted to know something about you that no one else knew. I said, ‘yeah.’ And he told me. We sat on your bed going through them one time.” Coy smile, indicating something more. “Pretty perverted, you got some pretty perverted comics. But, because you didn’t know that I know, it counts. My turn.”
I said, “Truth or Dare.”
I had to know, so I asked, “Have you had sex with Mike?”
Without any hesitation, “Yes.”
The blood rushed to my head. She had! I blurted out, “You have to tell me about it too.”
“Ah ah ah. I told you. ONE question!!” But she quickly relented, “Ok. Ok. I’ll tell you one thing, and it’s sort of related to your secret. But you get so put out, you have to promise. Ok. I had sex with Mike, on YOUR bunk bed.” She fell forward with her face on the mattress. She was giggling again.
“What. You ARE shitting me?”
“He told me about your porn, asked if I wanted to see it. I said ‘yeah’ and followed him to your room. We started looking at it, and I hopped up on your bed, looking over the edge – the way I do.” Coy smile again, “And I like got so horny laying on your bed, and asked Mike to come up there with me and we looked some more, and started to make out. I got sooo horny. I let him take my clothes off on your bed, and did him right there.” She just lay there giggling at my reaction, and then out of the blue, “Your turn. Truth or Dare?”
“Fuck. Some secret.” I said again, “Truth.”
“You got to take a Dare some time.”
She was rocking herself on the bed, “How many times have you masturbated this week?”
“Too many to count.”
She then roll over onto her back, letting her skirt slide up her thighs, “How many times today?”
“At least six times.” I was exaggerating.
“What. No Way! It’s what 11:00.”
“You asked, how many times did you masturbate this week?” I asked it out of turn, but she lifted herself up.
“ZE-RO.” She let it sink in. And frowning added, “My source, has kind of let me down.”
I felt suddenly hot, at the implication of what she said. I fumbled my words a little, suddenly shy. The room was electric.
“Ok. Truth or dare.”
She looked me in the eye, “DARE.”
My heart began to pound, staring at her before me, legs tucked underneath her skirt. Would she do anything? A Dare. Anything at all?
“I Dare you to turn your halter top around so it’s backward.”
The result of turning her halter around was obvious. Hers was a little thin elastic band wrapping around her midsection, just at the bottom of her ribcage, with strips of fabric pulled up over her breasts at the front and tied around her neck at the back. To turn it around would totally expose her bare breasts to me. I had never seen them totally exposed, I had felt them, never seen them.
She began to blush, looking down at herself.
“Yes. That’s my Dare.”
She raised her hand behind her neck and slowly untied the tie, letting go the halter began to drop away from her breasts, so she was now totally exposed. Her long hair hanging down her shoulders and curling on each side, with whisps of hair covering her tits. She had the most delicious full round breasts, and her cute tan areoles and tight little nipples. So beautiful, delicate. I had touched her many times, reached inside her clothes, squeezed her breasts, played with her nipples. She sat like that a moment without any hesitation, exposed, letting me look at her body as she sat cross legged, her skirt tucked up between her legs. I wanted to reach out my hand, but resisted.
After a beat she began twisting the elastic band around, turning the halter around as I had instructed, then tied a bow under her chin. She sat before me with a halter on backward, naked from the waist up.
I blurted out, “They’re so beautiful.”
“Thanks. Not many brothers get to see what you’re seeing right now. I feel goofy like this.” We sat in silence, when she broke my reverie, “Ok, stop drooling. How long do I have to be like this anyways?”
“Ummm, five minutes.” I kept looking, “Yeah.”
She smiled as she sat there. “Your turn.”
I took a breath. “DARE.”
She sat for a while, looking at herself and me, thinking before a smile filled her face. She lifted one arm.
“You have to lick my . . . armpit for one minute.”
She started laughing, “You heard me!”
“Sara! Gross. What if I don’t?”
She shrugged, put her hands up and covered her tits, “Game over I guess. I haven’t put any deoderant on or anything. It’s just me. You would of done it if I said, lick my breasts.”
She was again holding her one arm up. I leaned in and began to lick her armpit. Tentative at first, and then slow long licks with the flat of my tongue. Truth, she tasted delicious, beyond delicious. I was rock hard, her taste was arousing me like I had not expected. I licked around a little to the front, feeling the soft swell of her breast. I had images of licking her entire body like this, every inch of her. I wanted to lick her for hours.
She was giggling and squirming under my tongue, “Tickles.”
As I lapped at her, I put reached my hand around and lay it over her breast and squeezed and basically molested her as I licked her.
“Behave.” Was all she said, not shooing me away at all. After about a minute she said, “Ok. One Minute.” I gave one last molesting squeeze and let go.
I asked, “Truth or Dare.” I knew what she would say.
She was in that moment very relaxed, resigned to anything. “DARE.”
“I dare you to lick my penis,” her eyes going wide, and before she said anything, I quickly added, “Through my underwear – for one minute.”
Her eyes were glued to my crotch, but otherwise no other reaction. She had this beatific face. An, I’d do anything right now kind of face. I could feel our bodies begin to take over.
“you mean, like a blow job?”
“Well, I guess, sort of, if you want it to be.”
“Take your shorts off.”
I slid my pants off. I had on a pair of loose grey boxers. She put her head down between my open legs. I could see her put her tongue out and lick the whole length of my penis through my boxers, probing me with the tip of her tongue.
As she licked her hands were pressing up the legs, and she began to play with my balls. I closed my eyes. God it felt so good. Her hands on me. As she licked my cock got so hard that the head popped out the top of the boxers, and she immediately eyed my cockhead and touched her tongue right on the bare skin, lapping off a little puddle of cum off the tip.
She took her hand and pulled my boxers down lower, exposing my bare cock, her face just inches away. She looked at it and then me, and set her tongue right at the tip and pressed it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around a little, and then backing off again before running her tongue along its length, right along the bare skin of my cock, like a lollipop.
She looked up at me and smiled, the whites of her teeth as her soft voice lilted, “Like that?” She looked back down, and licked it again.
“God it feels incredible.”
She said, “Mmmmm. This is bad. Wait till my turn.”
Once again her mouth opened up and she pressed my cock into her mouth, deeper this time, swirling her tongue around. I could literally feel the tip of her tongue exploring the veins of my cock. She had one hand up my boxers playing with my balls. Oh god! I just about could have cum right there. But it was so brief. She put her head down and let her soft hairs fall over my cock and proceeded to lick these wonderful short licks to my tip, and then she gave me a sweet little kiss on its tip.
She said, “I think, times up.” She covered my penis and patted it with her hand.
I croaked, “your turn,” as I was sitting there in just my T shirt and underwear.
She pushed herself up, breasts still exposed, her cheeks red and mottled, glassy eyed. Her legs were splayed open. I could see her red silk panties. Not bothering to cover herself from me.
She breathed, “DARE.”
I dared her to take off her skirt. I knew she had panties on, but when she took the skirt off, they were the smallest panties I had ever seen; a shiny little triangle of silk covering her pussy, just a string running up her ass and little ties at each hip.
After that dare I had lost my T shirt, she just pulled it off at one point. I let her.
On my dare, she dared me to lick her pussy over her panties. I lay her back and pulled her legs wide, looking up her body, her cute little navel, lapping at the fabric of her silk covered pussy.
She said five minutes, but god we did not stop until longer than that. I dug my tongue into her slit and the fabric was so thin, and so wet I could taste her juices. She was creaming, and her panties were soaked. I loved licking right along the edges of her panties, trailing my tongue along her bare skin, feeling the fine hairs peeking out, licking down to the line of her ass, lifting her knees over my shoulder. I could feel her hard little clit and dug in, rubbing the tip as hard as I could with my tongue, drawing in circles until I could feel her rocking against me, felt her body stiffen. Her breathing, the intensity of her movement, ready to cum. But I did not want her to cum.
She was pushing my face into her, wild to cum. But I would slow down or drift away, licking up the front of her panties, until she was settled down and then begin to lick my way between her legs again, playing with her clit over and over. I was not going to let her cum, no release. I was not going to let her come down from this high.
When it was her turn she again took a dare.
I said, “I dare you to let me masturbate you.” Which I knew she wanted. She reacted by laying back immediately and opening her legs. But as she was laying back in the bed, completely disheveled, hungry. I continued, “with my Penis.”
She responded to me with wide eyes, “David, we can’t fuck.”
I was ready for this, “I didn’t say fuck. No fucking. I dare you to let me masturbate you with my penis.”
There was a pause, and I calmly waited. “Ok.”
Honestly, I expected the resistance to fucking, but she really gave in fast.
I reached my hands up her thighs and grasped her panties, watching them slide down her legs. They literally had to peel down her soaking puss, when she grabbed my hands. Her little patch of hair and swollen puss laying before my eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“The Dare.” I was a little confused.
“No. No. With these on.” And she tugged them back up her legs. “You can do it with these on. I don’t want an ‘accident.'”
“Fine was all I said.”
When next I began to crawl over her she turned herself away, and began pushing me back onto the bed.
“I want to be on top.” And as I lay back, it was her who grasped my boxers and pulled them down my legs as I let her. I had intended for both of us to be naked, but now it was me laying on my back completely naked and she was in a single pair of red panties, with her eyes looking at me up and down.
She began to straddle my thighs, her breasts hanging down, her thin waist and long legs. It was more than I could bear. Her cheeks were red and her lips delicious and full. She pressed me back onto the bed.
I watched her crawl up over me and as she let her body lay on me, her skin was suddenly everywhere, skin to skin. I felt her delicious soft as silk skin, the warmth of her press into me.
She breathed, “Be careful.”
I could feel her breasts compress into my chest, the stiff nipples, and her legs opening around my thighs. I clasped my hands around her small waist, as she reached down and took my penis in her hand and pressed it up until it landed between her legs rubbing against the soft fabric.
I felt her slide her hips up until my cock was tucked between her legs. I thrust up and back down, oh the feel of our sexes sliding together. Her blond hair hanging around me, and as we moved together she kissed me. I opened my mouth to her and traced her teeth with my tongue. The one thing was that I was so aroused that her movement on me, the soft liquid heat of her sliding on me, the thought of how close we were to fucking. I had to be careful, I wanted her to cum, and I absolutely did not want to cum before her. I also was thinking how if we were doing this once, how likely it would happen again.
Her kiss was mesmerizing, delicious, so hard to describe. So soft. The taste of her sex was everywhere, on my tongue, in my skin, I could smell her body everywhere, and I began to slide my cock against her, up between her legs; and felt her moving against me meeting my thrusts. It felt in every way like fucking. The wetness of her puss and my dripping cock was lubricating us so it felt as if we were skin to skin.
The way she had lain me down, another unexpected benefit was that my hands were free and I let them roam over her, tracing a line down her lower back and squeezed my fingers into the crack of her ass, listening to her moan as I explored all her delicate places.
She was clinging to me, breathing in my ear, kissing me, kissing down my neck and nibbling my shoulder as she lifted her hips up and down on my hard cock. Her mouth open, breathing through her mouth, moving on me faster, pressing the tip of my cock into her clit and letting it slide back between her legs. I could see the hunger rising in her. God, she knew just what to do. She knew what she wanted.
I traced a hand around her thigh and turning it palm up began to press my fingers between her legs so she was being stimulated with both my fingers and the head of my cock. As I rubbed her though, I was slipping my hand inside her panties, rubbing the bare skin of her puss, feeling the curling hairs of her cunt. I held my fingers so they were right over her clit, skin to skin, pressing my finger tips in and rubbing over the top. She jumped and had to know my hand was on her soft pussy lips and that I was pulling her open, but her response was to tremble, and press against wherever I was touching her, grinding her sex into me.
As my fingers worked her puss, it was causing the fabric to slip to the side of her pussy lips, until my cock slipped right into the folds of her bare cunt, the gush of wetness suddenly lubricating the head of my cock. My cock tip was directly touching her clit now when she raised her hips and was being enfolded into her wet pussy lips when she let her hips slip down. I thought it had felt like I was touching her skin to skin before, but the feeling was so entirely different now.
I held to her, pulling her against me, continuing to stroke her open legs, letting her move on my body faster and faster. She was still kissing my neck and shoulder, taking what she wanted. I rubbed her clit along the length of my cock, keeping my contact with her as she was moving faster on me.
I breathed up to her just then, “Tell me you want to fuck me.”
She says back between breaths. “You can’t. You can’t fuck me David. Oh, this is enough.”
“I know, I won’t. I just want to hear it. Hear you say it. Say it. You want to Fuck me. Say it.” I kept saying it over and over.
Until her soft voice rising up, “Oh God, David, fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”
“Yes. Feels so good.”
“Oh yeah, feel you inside me. Fuck me inside, your cock up inside my cunt.”
“I want to cum in your pussy. Fell you inside.”
“Oh God, Fuck me. Yeah.”
And as she said those words her body was stiffening and trembling and she was pressing to me harder, lifting her hips and letting them fall against me, these long strokes. Thrusting against me. I was meeting every thrust and could tell she was getting close to cumming now.
Beyond belief. She was kissing me, pressing her tongue into my mouth, the movement of our bodies, the feel of her bare breasts on my chest. Our skin was wet with sweat, our bellies sliding together, her sex sliding along the length of my cock.
Incredible. I will never forget that moment. The movement of us against the other, the purest pleasure. Moving faster, harder, hungrier. Rocking against one another, meeting each thrust.
Now, the thing about a womans body, is that everything about their sex, about the shape of their thighs and the curve of their ass into their thighs, everything about a womans body is utterly made to receive a cock, made to guide that cock right up inside their vagina.
Look at a womans inner thighs, up by the pussy, by the vagina. The indentation that angles back from the groin down the inside thigh, a perfect indented line that when closed around a cock will send it right up into her cunt. The curve of the ass is the same, the way it opens right into the vagina, the angle of a womans hips when you are sliding against them, leading a cock right back up through the pussy lips and straight inside. Deep inside.
I felt it for the briefest moment, and then again.
She was shuddering against me, ready to cum, bringing her hips forward, the head of my cock slipped right inside. It was just the head, and when she lifted her hips again I felt myself sliding back forward touching her clit, back again and right inside. I could feel her opening around me, the exquisite pressure. My cock tipping just inside. With the next thrust I lifted my hips a little higher and felt myself sliding in a little further. Deeper. My cock was slipping inside, fucking her, I was half into her. I lay my hands over the small of her back and pulled her down on me, applying the slightest of pressure, pulling her down on me and felt her slide my cock back and up into her vagina, this time holding me there, lifting her hips my cockhead slipping just out and meeting her thrust sinking right back down, squeezing my cock with her vagina. I was inside, fucking her, meeting her thrusts.
I did not say anything, she was still kissing me, moaning. Her whimpering, “Oh God, David. Yes. This feels so good.”
Did she know?
When next she raised her hips up my cock did not slide forward, she was holding me, keeping me inside, raising so the head of my cockhead held right at the opening and sliding all the way, I held her to me. Oh fucking god. She lay herself so so that my cock continued to slide along her clit as I fucked into her. She was moving on me so hard and fast now, her body began spasming and trembling and I could feel her vagina squeezing tight around my cock. I could feel myself nearing orgasm, I was in a panic, could I cum in her? I had no idea. Was she on anything. Birth control? No condom. My God.
I wanted to pull out, but I didn’t, I wanted her to cum, I didn’t want to change anything. Her body began bucking against me.
“Ahh, I’m cumming. Yes. Oh God, yes.” She was clinging to me.
And her body falling so hard on me, rubbing back and forth, my cock was deep into her, up inside, I could feel my cum rising. I pulled my hips back, no further than that I felt myself slip out of her. No way, no way I would cum in her. She was crying out, cumming, and I thrust my fingers down on her clit and mashed into her, she began grinding down on my hand, trembling against me, cumming. My cock slid up between her legs and I began cumming as well, our bodies sliding together. I was spraying, so much cum. She began kissing me, pressing her tongue in my mouth, her tongue was cold and she held to me, kissing me. I could feel her body relaxing as she lay down on top of me.
My cum actually sprayed up her back, all over her. It got in her hair, and I could feel it trickling down between my legs, a mix of my cum and her pussy juices running down my legs.
I opened my eyes and looked at her, she was still laying on me. I was not sure how she would respond. I knew, knew I had been inside her. We HAD fucked. I fucked my sister, she rode my cock. Did SHE know? I said nothing, she opening her eyes, and smiling at me.
“Fuck. That was good. God. I never came like that before.”
“Me too.” I said. It was true. She was arching her head back then, pressing herself up on her arms and holding herself over me, legs wide, breasts hanging down, my cock still up between her legs. Her pussy hairs covering my belly. I could feel myself softening. She lifted one leg and slid off to my side.
She sat beside me with her legs wide, her cunt a gapping slit, one knee up she was reaching back with her hand.
She looked back at herself realizing how I had cum up her back.
“I’m a mess.”
She looked at me, a smile on her face. That coy smile she has. She knows, she had to feel it. But she said nothing. Nothing was said, it just happened.
“Oh shit,” she said, “Your turn.”
My god, Truth or Dare. A game. We were playing Truth or Dare. We still going to play?
She was sitting there with her legs wide open, her panties covering nothing, topless. Her hair a disheveled mess. I was completely naked, and sat before her without covering myself in any way. Utterly natural.
“Your dare is that you have to lick your cum off of me!”
She lay herself down on the bed.
For a moment I absolutely did not want to. “I pick truth.” I said. “I pick truth.”
“Uh, uh.” Was all she said. When I saw her laying there, I thought of how I would be licking her body. I had thought how I wanted to do that and fully intended to.
I lapped at my own cum, lapped over her ass and the small of her back, across to each hip and up her sides. I lay over her as I did running my cock along her thighs and as I licked up her shoulders, pushing her hair out of the way, my cock began to bump her between her legs and I let my cock touch her pussy once more as I licked her body, long slow licks.
She tightened and clamped her legs together around my cock.
“You know what. We just can’t. We just can’t.” She was turning herself around so that I was rolling off of her. “We are still brother and sister.”
I found Sara’s diary laying on her desk as I peeked in her room to see if she was there. I snuck in and opened it, don’t know what page at all.
I love to be touched, I love to be stroked, I love the feeling of thick fingers touching me, fucking me, scratching, clutching, groping. Squeezing my hips. I love men’s hands. Have ever since I was a teenager. Always had a crush on the guys with the big hands, long fingers. I love the feeling of a finger pushing into me, two fingers stretching me. I like it slow, a buildup. I like a guy who takes his time. Goes slow. Gets me sopping wet and crazy. One who wants to play with me. Watch me. Watch what he’s doing to me. I need to be worked over. Broken in. Taught how to use my body, use another person’s body, feel and give pleasure. I like things rougher, harder, faster. I have an overactive imagination because of all this. Burning lust, all building up inside with no outlet. I long to just lose myself in pleasure, dissolve in it, forget everything else. Get completely out of control. I’m very frustrated.
Never could I have dreamed how hand in glove my antics were with her.
And another tidbit, ‘I like things rougher.’
I looked at the door and turned to the most recent entry:
It was titled Fantasy.
So I’m sitting on top of you, settling myself down. You keep sliding your hands down onto my hips. I sit there for a minute, push your cock up between my legs and hold to you, waiting for my body to calm down, adjust. I lean forward, stretch my legs out along yours, kiss you once on the lips, then a trail down your neck. Press my face into you. You sigh. It is so nice to just lay here with you.
I rock my hips just a little, this little shockwave of pleasure runs through me. I rock them a little harder. Still just pleasure, warm, skin. I pull my head back up to yours, smile at you, wrap my arms around you. I pull my knees up a little and can feel your hands between my legs, rubbing my clit. Yes. We both moan a little.
I start rocking again, slow, soft movements, slippery and warm. I tighten my pussy around your cock, rock again. Mmmm that feels really good, you say. I know, I say back, grinning at you. You slide your hands over my ass. You push your hand between my legs and pull my panties to the side. I reach around, arching my back a little and, oh god, your cock squishes into me. I should stop. I let out a little whimper at the movement, the feeling of your shaft on my clit, everything is so heightened, so soft, so slow, so wet.
Your fingers are still down there, I can feel it all slick and hot, that silky skin of my cunt. Mmmmmmm I moan, rocking my hips again, feeling your fingers and tip down and just the tip of your cock, in. Shit. I can feel the underside of your cock as it heads into me. (God I am SO WET right now) A shiver runs up my spine and I keep moving. Shit. Your fingers, rocking my hips forward and your fingers dig into my clit, back and your cock up inside. Fucking God. Yes. Feeling myself fucking you.
I really start to whimper, rest my forehead down on your shoulder and moan into your ear, these soft, quiet little whimpers between quick breaths. I can feel us fucking with fingers, and cock. I feel it all in my cunt. You grab my ass, just cup your hands over my ass, squeezing, pulling me to you, moaning back at me. I stay tightened up on you, getting off on the way we fit together. Faster I’m moving, tingles running through my body. I can feel it, that moment just before my orgasm, the BEST part.
I start really moaning, louder, longer, (oh god I am wet) my breath coming in little pants. You grab my hips, pull me down onto you harder, harder, until I’m bouncing on you, fucking you hard, and then it hits, and I cry out, clamp my lips down on yours, my cunt squeezing and releasing on you, you pull out – thank god – and then you are cumming. What a mess, cool sticky sprays up my back.
We stay like that, wrapped around each other, catching our breaths. My
hair is all stuck to my neck and shoulders. I can feel the cum running
down my sides, all over the bed. Gonna have to change the sheets, so mom
doesn’t know. I slide off, press my forehead to yours and smile, you
smile back at me. Fuck, I say, that was GOOD.
Holy shit. I knew she knew.
And now I knew a few things about her she did not know I knew.