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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
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Siblings - The Early Days - 6 (family, inc)
by Michael Kalen Smith
***
Alex and I went through a period of anxiety and self-doubt between
Christmas and the New Year. In barely a week, I would be sixteen and
she fifteen -- old enough to marry in some states with parental consent.
Our relationship had evolved so gradually that neither of us had felt
any pressure about it. It was like taking a slow stroll through rising
hills and coming abruptly to a halt at the brink of an unexpected chasm.
We suddenly were realizing just how high we had climbed. In less than a
single year, our physical relationship had progressed from separate
masturbation, to jerking off in company, to making out like any other
teenagers, to *really* making out, to mutual oral sex. And after Alex's
episode with Patty, the only thing it seemed we hadn't done was The Deed
itself.
As long as Alex was still technically a virgin, regardless of the
amount of sex play we indulged in, perhaps we thought we could continue
to pretend that this was all just fun and affectionate games. But we
came to understand that soon, very soon, we would no longer be able to
restrain ourselves. The sex play wouldn't be enough. Though we didn't
discuss it in so many words, we both wanted very badly to spend an
entire night fucking ourselves into exhaustion. Moreover, the
opportunity was there every day and the lingering fear of taking that
final step was dissipating. What were we going to do?
It all came to a head the third week in December. We were lying in
her bed, naked, our bodies pressed hungrily together. My hands were
squeezing and stroking her ass and her hands were manipulating my penis
and my balls. We both were breathing hard. My cock was an inch away
from where I knew it belonged, and I wanted so badly to slip it into
that warm, moist opening! And I was convinced that Alex wanted me
inside her, too. I knew I wasn't the only one torn by physical desire
when I gradually became aware that my sister's body was shaking from
some emotion other than lust.
Her face was buried against my chest and I had to pull back to see
that she was sobbing in frustration. Her face was flushed and she
looked terribly unhappy. I pulled her close to me again and cuddled her
head beneath my chin and stroked her back.
Her fingers tried to kneed my chest. "I'm sorry, Michael. I just
don't think I can stand it any longer. I WANT YOU! Making love like
this without *really* making love is driving me crazy!"
God, I wanted her, too. But I was worrying about it a lot lately,
just as she was. I knew what "incest" was -- we both had read quite a
lot about its perils and traumas. But the cases we read about seemed to
involve mostly young girls trying to deal with forced relationships by
much older male relatives, whether father or brother, and that certainly
didn't apply to us.
Consenting sibling incest, if it was discussed at all, was seldom
analyzed or tracked for its social and psychological consequences. No
one approved of it, of course -- most of the books we had read through
didn't seem to approve of sex at all -- and again, there was always the
assumption of a forced relationship.
We had found one case study in a popular magazine and read it
together several times, trying to make sense of it. It concerned a
couple in their late 20s who had met through friends, begun dating, and
fallen in love. They had seemed almost magnetically drawn to each other
from the first and they planned to be married in due course.
Then the woman, who was an adoptee searching for her biological
family, finally uncovered explicit information about her long-lost
siblings, all of whom had been adopted out to different families at a
very young age -- and there on the list of names was the man with whom
she was in love.
Alex and I both thought this a terrible tragedy -- to gain a
sibling at the expense of losing a lover and spouse-to-be -- but the
couple in the magazine article had immediately shifted gears and
romantic love seemed to instantly transform itself into traditional
filial devotion.
Neither of us could quite believe that the couple had been able to
undergo such a radical emotional transformation without severe
psychological disturbance. Or were most people really such slaves to a
primarily European tradition?
We didn't know, but it was frightening. And it was the most
important reason that we went to such lengths to keep our own
relationship secret. As brother and sister, we were utterly devoted to
each other. But as members of the opposite sex, we were deeply in love.
And not puppy love, either.
I had a couple of acquaintances who had gone through a "crush"
phase with an older brother or sister. They laughed about it later or
maintained an embarrassed silence.
We had also read the theories of psychologists who argued that
siblings went through a stage of infantile sexual attraction which they
were physically unable to fulfill, so that the attraction turned to
active rejection of each other as possible sex partners by the time they
reached puberty. That sounded like crap to us, and it certainly didn't
fit our own case.
We also knew the hoary old biological arguments -- that children
born of incestuous relationships were likely to be congenital idiots
with two heads, or worse. We knew *that* wouldn't wash. The human gene
pool was much too large for common parents in one generation to be
statistically significant.
So we weren't in a situation of child abuse, and there was no valid
biological argument that we could see. Incest was simply a taboo,
inherited from Neolithic ancestors with a different survival agenda.
And we lay there in bed, holding tightly to each other, both of us in
tears now, feeling conspired against by society. Our relationship,
emotional and otherwise, was certainly different -- we recognized that.
But did that make it "wrong"?
Maybe we were *ahead* of the pack in terms of evolution. Maybe
many other sibling couples felt as we did but were afraid of departing
so far from the norm -- or else thought themselves depraved. Perhaps we
shared a common insanity. Or was everybody *else* nuts?
After awhile, we found ourselves sprawled on Alex's bed in
conversational mode, still naked, but not feeling very sexually aroused
at the moment. The tears had gone but the depression hadn't.
"Michael, what it comes down to is whether we're going to listen to
ourselves or to the rest of the world. Do we want -- do we *need* --
each other badly enough to tell everyone else to go to hell?"
"But we're still minors, Alex. Unless we ran away, the State would
keep us apart if they found out. We'd both probably end up in the nut
house, under shock treatment. Remember the ending of "Cuckoo's Nest"?
And you know we're not going to drop out of school and run away from
home. We'd make lousy hippies. I think all we can do is to keep The
Secret and wait until we're old enough that no one can stop us, until we
can protect ourselves."
"But that's *years* yet -- and a year longer for me! Michael, I
don't want to wait that long -- I can't! I want to fuck you!" Her
cheeks colored a bit at her own vehemence and she took a deep breath.
"I want to make love to you, Michael. And I want you to make love
to me. *Love.* And I can't wait too much longer. I've been waiting
for months. I even started taking the Pill a few months ago -- Janie's
father is a doctor and she got them for me -- and I've just been waiting
for the right time." She gave me a look of such longing, I got flutters
in my stomach.
She shifted to a kneeling position, which -- even naked -- seemed
somehow more formal. Her expression became serious. "It all comes down
to one question, Michael: Do you love me?"
I just looked at her for a moment, then sat up facing her. This
didn't sound like a rhetorical question; did she really need an answer?
"You know how I feel about you, Alex."
She folded her hands together and tucked them between her knees,
and studied them. "Maybe I do, but I have to hear it. Please."
I leaned forward and covered her hands with mine. I looked into
her eyes and said slowly and clearly, "Alex, I love you with all my
heart." She blushed a little but her smile seemed relieved. She caught
my hand and squeezed.
"Michael, I love you more than anything. Anything. We *are* in
love, for real, and it's not fair that we can't share it physically,
like any other couple."
I guess that's what made up my mind. I was still nervous about
taking the final step, taking my sister's virginity, even though she was
actively pressing it on me.
"Incest," I decided at that moment, was just a word. An outmoded
concept that had no relevance to us. I'd had one semester of
psychology, though I was actually very widely read in that field
already, and I suspected Freud and his crowd would have all sorts of
significant things to say about us, but that simply didn't interest me.
It didn't mean anything.
My sister and I might be unusual in our relationship, but that was
all it was -- "unusual." If we had had two different sets of parents,
we would have been just like any other teenage couple, and no one would
care. So what was so perverted? What was so degenerate about us?
I realized that my conclusions had been coalescing for months. I
knew I loved a girl named Alexandra. And that it wasn't a crush, or
puppy love, or anything so trivial. Those things were all we were
*supposed* to be capable of feeling at our age, but I was convinced that
our feelings for each other were much, much deeper. Perhaps we were
simply more mature in certain ways than most of our peers ... or maybe
it was our slowly developing love and resulting closeness that had
matured us. However cause and effect worked, the result was the same.
These thoughts rushed in and piled atop one another in my mind as
we sat there in bed holding hands and gazing longingly at each other.
It was almost an epiphany. My nervousness about the resolution of our
sexual involvement was still there, of course, but now it was the
natural nervousness of any young male contemplating sex with a girl he
cares for deeply. That "I-word," the one we never used aloud, no longer
entered into it.
The few seconds' pause in our conversation seemed like an hour. I
had to think back to recall the last thing Alex had said. Ah. Yes.
"You're right," I replied. "It's not fair. And I think we've just
decided to do something about it, haven't we?" Alex looked faintly
surprised at the sudden resolution in my voice.
"But I think we should treat this as a special occasion -- special
for both of us. Why don't we give each other a very special, very
private birthday gift?" Her eyes were bright, now.
"I also think we should give up all this foreplay with no 'last
act' until then. Sweets taste a lot nicer when you haven't had any for
awhile."
"Yeah," she said with a smile. "I think you're right. Looking
without being able to touch will make us anticipate the Big Day all the
more." She hesitated. "We don't have to avoid each other, do we?"
"Alex, we're still brother and sister; what else have we been
agonizing about? We just won't be lovers for a week, not actively
anyway. But I still get a kiss in the morning, okay?"
My sister looked and seemed happier than she had in months. This
was a deep river for us to cross, but I thought things would be all
right, now that we had decided to blow up the log jam.
* * * * *
It was a long week ... like trudging across a desert, even though
you know when and where the waterhole is going to be. We continued the
same friendly affection we had developed over the years, and we still
exchanged quick kisses of greeting and departure. We held hands when we
went shopping out of our neighborhood.
But each of us adopted a careful modesty around the other.
Clothing changes were made with bedroom doors shut, and we knocked on
the bathroom door, just like other people. All showers were solo. We
stopped our intimate but casual sex play. In some ways, of course, it
was godawful frustrating, but it also heightened the sexual tension,
like tightening a guitar string. For some years, I had had regular
dreams about Alex -- always very nice ones, too -- but now the dreams
came every night.
She was still doing most of her studying on my bed, though she was
wearing more than just underwear these days. But neither of us was
getting a lot of studying done; we spent much of our time looking at
each other and smiling. The mounting anticipation became almost
overwhelming.
The morning of January 6th, my -- our -- birthday, as I was putting
my keys and coins in my pockets, I discovered a neatly sealed square
envelope propped on top of my chest of drawers.
On the front was "An Invitation," lettered in my sister's precise
script. Inside was a folded sheet of her monogrammed notepaper which
read:
"The Joy of Your Presence Is Requested at a Grand Opening to
Be Entered Into at Approximately 9:00 p.m. on the Evening of
January 6th and Ending Whenever the Revelers Are Exhausted.
No R.S.V.P. Required, No Excuses Accepted. Dress: Optional."
I had a great deal of difficulty concentrating on school that Friday.
We had a leisurely supper with Mother and Dad, who wished us both
Happy Birthday and gave us our presents. Our family had never made a
big deal of birthdays, especially after we each passed the plastic toy
stage.
That suited us, too. Each January, Alex and I gave each other
small, highly personalized gifts carefully selected or handmade. The
more unusual and unexpected, the better; no unimaginative boxes of candy
or bottles of cologne.
This year, our folks gave us each very nice new wristwatches in
matching style, relatively modest in price but a lot better than the old
Timexes we both were wearing. Our gifts to each other would come later.
Dad was working on weekends at least half the time these days, in
addition to his frequent business trips, but I was concerned that he
might be inconveniently present that night. Not *that* night, of all
nights, please!
As it turned out, he was taking Mother for a rare night out: They
were going to a show and then to visit some friends across town who had
recently returned from a winter vacation in the Caribbean. Mother
absolutely hated lugging her wheelchair to other people's homes, but
these friends had known her a very long time, long before her arthritis
became crippling. Anyway, they didn't expect to be home until well
after Midnight, which was fine with us.
We each took an hour in the bathroom, trying to make ourselves
perfect for the occasion. I had problems deciding what to wear. Or
should I just show up naked, wearing a bow tie? I finally settled on a
pair of slacks and a reasonably new dress shirt with the top few buttons
undone. Then I slipped on my loafers without socks. This was almost
formal attire by Upstairs standards, but it was nothing I couldn't get
out of in a hurry. As I was brushing my hair and wondering how to
approach our rendezvous, the question was answered by Alex's soft knock
at my door.
"Michael? Don't open the door yet -- but it's ten to nine, and I'd
like you to come and open MY door at exactly nine o'clock. All right?"
I agreed and heard her bare feet hurry back down the hall. Whatever she
was preparing, it was going to be interesting.
At ten seconds before 9:00 by my new watch, I stepped across the
hall. Alex had taped a big red satin bow to the middle of her door,
with a printed note just above it: "ENTER WITHOUT KNOCKING."
I turned the knob and walked into the nearly dark room. Alex was
waiting across the room, but I was struck for a moment by how neat and
tidy the place was. No dirty laundry, bed newly made, closet door shut.
She had swept and dusted, too. This really WAS a special occasion. The
lights were off and the window shade was drawn, but a soft illumination
was provided by a dozen candles set at intervals around the room.
Alex stood by her dresser wearing a blue velveteen mini, dark blue
hose, and a pair of shiny black patent high heels that must have been
borrowed. She had beautiful legs in any outfit, but tonight the effect
was stunning. A gold-orange satin scoop-necked blouse provided an
electric contrast to her long, deep-red hair. She wore no jewelry --
the colors did the work very nicely. And she certainly looked older
than just-turned-fifteen! I stood just inside her door, rooted to the
spot in amazement, tinged with awe. I had never seen my sister looking
more beautiful and desirable. My face must have shown my reaction
clearly because she blushed and looked very pleased. Then she almost
giggled but managed to control herself.
She reached over to her dresser and switched on a Wollensak tape
recorder I hadn't noticed (also undoubtedly borrowed), and began walking
across the room, swaying her hips gracefully and provocatively. The
music was for slow-dancing and we slipped into each other's arms and
moved around the small, empty center of the room in no particular
pattern or step.
Rather than going into a clinch as we usually did during a slow
number, we found ourselves examining each other's face minutely. Alex
seldom wore much makeup except lipstick; she simply didn't need it.
Tonight, the lipstick was absent; she knew it wasn't much good for
serious kissing. Her lips were covered only by a thin sheen of gloss
which made her mouth appear moist and inviting.
Her eyes had gotten much more attention, however. The shadowing
was faint but effective, making her brilliant green eyes appear even
larger and more magnetic. The effect was that I felt myself falling in
love with her all over again, as if I had just met her at a school
dance. She was looking at me a little differently, too, and I was glad
I had shaved after supper (though I'd had to search diligently for
stubble).
After a few minutes, she sighed in contentment and slipped her arms
possessively around my neck. Her soft cheek brushed mine and she
whispered "I love you" close to my ear. I scattered slow kisses down
her cheek and along her jawline and she purred and shivered a little.
I popped open the little pearl buttons down the back of her blouse
one at a time as we continued to move in our unhurried dance. She wore
no bra and when the blouse fell open I smoothed my hands over her soft,
sleek skin, enjoying the shifting of muscles under my fingers. She
stepped back almost bashfully and let the blouse slide off her arms. As
I covered her breasts with my open hands, she unbuttoned my shirt and
pushed it off my shoulders. Both garments were tossed in a chair in the
corner and we went back to dancing, pressed breast to breast, four hands
caressing two bodies.
Alex took the initiative next, unhooking my slacks and sliding down
the zipper down far enough to allow them to fall to the floor. I pushed
down my briefs, stepped out of my loafers, and kicked the whole mass to
one side. We embraced and our hands continued to move over each other,
as if exploring for the first time.
Alex reached down and squeezed my penis, stretching it upward
between us. Because she was still wearing her heels, I was able to
reach around, push up her skirt, and grip her ass, one cheek in each
hand. I think both of us wanted badly to simply throw ourselves on the
bed, but we had tacitly agreed to spend a little time tormenting
ourselves. Foreplay with a vengeance.
Alex stepped away, turned her back to me, and pushed her mini and
her hose slowly to the floor, swinging her bottom as she did so. She
stepped out of her heels one at a time, to get rid of the hose, and then
put them back on. She turned back to face me, a beautiful, naked girl
in heat and heels. I was barely able to breath.
She paced the few steps back to me with smoke drifting out of her
eyes. I unconsciously backed up to the bed. "I'm not going to suck you
this time and you're not going to eat me," she said in a low, intense
voice. "We've had nothing BUT foreplay. Tonight, we're going to fuck!"
Her crooked smile seemed very determined.
She pushed me relentlessly onto my back on the bed and crawled
sinuously on top of me. My cock was erect and straining and she rubbed
her pubic mound against it as she covered my body with hers. She nudged
the inside of my calves with her feet and I spread my legs wide and
straight. She followed exactly, keeping her legs balanced atop mine.
Then she stretched my arms out to the sides and again followed my
movement, laying her palms flat against mine, fingers spread. Her loose
hair fell around my face as she touched the tip of her nose to mine and
began licking my lips with her tongue. I thought we must look like
wrestling starfish, with the curvy one pinning the larger one. I knew I
could slip my cock into her pussy easily in this position, but Alex
apparently had her own program and kept the instrument trapped between
us. She moved against me as we kissed deeply -- just an inch or so in
different directions, but the experience of *really* full body contact
was extraordinarily sensual.
Finally, with Alex's prompting, we brought our limbs back together
and intertwined our legs and held each other very tightly. Then we
rolled over, assuming the classic missionary position. Alex was flushed
now -- so was I -- and I felt the moisture in her crotch filtering
through her pubic hair. She raised her knees and spread her legs.
Taking my head in her hands, she began kissing my eyes, my chin, my
mouth, and whispering over and over, "Fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck
me...." She was so aroused in anticipation, her whole body was
trembling seismically.
I stroked my cock against her cleft, bringing little gasping noises
from her as it passed over her clit like a violin bow. Then I eased it
into her a little at a time, savoring the pauses. It was as if all my
nerve endings were concentrated in my cock, which felt a foot long and
six inches thick. Finally, I was all the way into her and my backbrain
wanted to climb in behind it. This was where both of us had wanted to
be for months, and now we were here and we almost couldn't believe it.
As I began stroking slowly in and out (I was determined not to come
too soon), Alex wrapped her legs high on my back and curled her pelvis
hard against me. She wanted me to fill her up completely and I tried
hard to comply. Her eyes fluttered open and shut and she made rhythmic
moaning sounds in the back of her throat.
My sister's leg-lock was so persistent, I found I could barely
move. I pushed her long legs up over my shoulders, with her ankles
against my ears, and took a more vertical position, like I was drilling
a well. I plunged into her at an increased pace, pulling out almost
completely each time so as to make the longest possible strokes. Each
time I felt an orgasm beginning to build, I slowed my pace to prolong
the action. But it still wasn't enough -- as if anything *could* be
enough. But I wanted all of this fantastic girl, and she wanted to give
all of herself to me.
She spread her legs as far apart as she could, hands behind her
knees. As I continued to screw myself into her, I pressed her legs as
flat against the bed as I could, trying to increase the friction against
her clit. She made a little mew of discomfort, and I sure didn't want
to hurt her in any way. I was breathing too hard to talk, but I raised
my eyebrows in a question.
She gasped a reply. "No -- it's okay -- harder -- harder and
deeper -- oh, God -- it feels so good -- I can't stand it."
So I really went to it, slamming into her like a piston in a steam
engine. Her head was jogged forward by two inches on each stroke, but
if she felt any strain it was lost in her sexual delirium. I hadn't
even touched her nipples, yet they stood up stiffly and seemed to
pulsate.
My climax started as a tingling in the soles of my feet. I wanted
very much for us to share our first "official" orgasm, and the thin,
wailing moan coming from my sister's writhing mouth made me pretty sure
we could do it.
She suddenly wrapped her legs around my waist again and clung
frantically to my arms and shoulders, as if she were about to fall off a
cliff. Her shuttering, gasping climax might indeed have thrown her off
the bed, except that she triggered my own orgasm. My paroxysms
continued for half a minute and she jerked and trembled again with each
new spasm.
As our hot-wired bodies slowly coasted to a halt, I rolled
carefully off Alex, who turned on her side to face me. Both of us ran
with rivulets of sweat. We kept touching each other's faces and bodies,
gently, hesitantly, awed by the intensity of what we had just
experienced. Both of us were bright red in the face and struggling to
get our wind back.
I was finally able to speak. "I was afraid I might hurt you,
Sweetheart -- I kind of lost control for awhile there...." I laid my
hand on her soft, damp cheek and she placed her hand over mine. "It
felt a little like I was killing you."
Alex kissed me softly and lovingly. "Michael," she murmured, "if
I'm dead then I've sure gone to heaven!" Then she got that look in her
eye again. "That was a beautiful birthday present -- just what I've
always wanted! But I have a present for you, too."
She scooted toward the foot of the bed until her face was level
with my crotch and slid her hands under my ass, squeezing and kneading.
My cock had shriveled considerably already, but when she began to lick
at it and suck the remaining white fluid from its tip, it recovered
quickly enough.
My cock was covered with my semen and her own juices, but she
seemed to enjoy the combination of flavors, and I certainly enjoyed the
attention. I wasn't sure I could gobble her pussy under similar
circumstances. It was temporarily so soft, she was able to stuff my
entire penis into her mouth and both my balls as well. She swallowed a
couple of times, and I could sense my equipment edging down her throat.
Then she applied *real* suction and clamped her mouth around the
base of my genitals, without biting. Her eyes twinkled when she tugged
her head back, and the strain, physical and emotional, became
exquisitely erotic. In less than thirty seconds, Alex found she could
no longer hold all of me in her mouth.
She began to lick up and down the stem like a lollipop and I
responded with more sexual energy than I would have thought possible.
The head of my penis, especially, was still very sensitive from my first
orgasm and the flicking of her tongue gave me a restless twitch.
"Alex, if you don't sit on it quick, it's gonna leave without you!"
She grinned and bounced up to straddle my hips. Taking her cue
from my earlier method, she grasped my penis between her legs and rubbed
the head briskly against her pussy. I moaned from the electricity she
generated.
She settled herself onto my cock and pressed her crotch down and
forward, pushing me into herself as far as she could. She moved up and
down experimentally, shifting her hips from side to side. My
penetration was greater than before, and since Alex was in control each
movement and change of pace was a surprise. It felt wonderful.
I took one perfect breast in each hand and massaged them, finally
tugging her down to me. She braced herself on locked arms, leaning
forward so I could suck on her swaying nipples. I chewed gently on the
little corks and she closed her eyes and hummed in the back of her
throat.
My hands on her ass pressed her clit against my grinding cock,
which made her lips curl back. Her back was arched, her stomach flat
against mine, her breasts brushing my face. I urged her on and she
flattened herself against me, her hands squeezing my shoulders. Her ass
swung up and down as I moved down and up, both of us stretching to
obtain the longest stroke. Soon we were slamming together, both gasping
for breath, and then I felt the spasm of climax building rapidly in my
groin. I squeezed her ass tightly and shot off into her steaming cunt
again. Alex launched herself a few seconds behind me, gasping and
shuddering. The contraction of her vaginal muscles milked the last drop
of semen from me.
She let herself collapse completely, her cunt still filled to
capacity. She gave a low moan that communicated pleasure, satisfaction,
and exhaustion. My cock was shrinking from overwork, too, and as it
withdrew itself from her, I felt my come oozing out with it. Alex
finally let herself roll off and lay beside me, her knees still slightly
bent and her legs apart. I slipped my arm behind her head and she
leaned over and kissed me and stroked my chest.
I squeezed my cock, coaxing the milky residue out, and gathered the
mixture of her juices and mine that had soaked into my pubic hair. Then
I carefully smeared it across her belly. She peered down when she felt
the stickiness and smiled benignly. Then she gathered a handful of the
stuff from between her legs and spread it just as carefully across my
stomach. I grinned back at her and put my arms around her, and held her
close to me. She folded her hands against my chest and nibbled at my
throat.
After a few warm minutes catching our breath and basking in the
heat we had generated, Alex nuzzled me. "Michael, we need to get up and
take a shower, before we get stuck together ... as much as I hate to
leave your arms right now. God, I love you. But I can love you in the
shower, too. C'mon..."
She began sliding toward the side of the bed, trying to drag me
after her. I mumbled a protest as she rolled me over on the
sweat-soaked sheets. The clock read just after midnight. I knew Alex
was right, but she'd worn me out and I wanted to just lie there. She
finally got my attention by tugging firmly on my flaccid penis; she
giggled and I moved.
We wandered the few yards down the hall to the bathroom, arms
around each other's waists, hips bumping together. I turned the shower
up to hot-as-hell while Alex dug out a stack of thick towels. The
bathroom was already filling up with steam as we climbed into the big
shower stall and closed the glass door.
We shared showers often in those days, soaping each other up and
down and sliding out bodies against each other. We always loved to
handle each other's bodies, tracing the curves and planes with our
fingertips and the palms of our hands.
I enjoyed kneeling behind my sister and shampooing her thick hair
-- and I knew she enjoyed it, sitting cross-legged on the tile floor
with her head leaning against my chest. That position also made it easy
for me to cup her breasts in my soapy hands, to lift them and play with
them, pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She always
enjoyed that, too.
There was something particularly romantic and erotic about sharing
a lengthy deep kiss, naked under the hot cascade from the shower head,
our sweat mixing with the steam, the water splashing from her body to
mine and back to hers. We did that now, but there was the new, added
element of fulfilled sex. No more holding back, no more being careful
to maintain control. As long as both of us were willing at any given
moment, we could fuck all we wanted. It was a very liberating
realization. And though we were both a bit exhausted -- and very stiff
-- we hadn't lost interest.
Alex flattened her body against mine under the spray, one arm tight
around my neck and her other hand tangled in my hair as her tongue
tickled my palette. Her thighs pressed against mine, her crotch
grinding against my cock (which was, unbelievably, already showing
renewed interest), her navel trying to form a suction with mine. Her
breasts were mashed hard against my chest, as if she were trying to get
inside my skin with me.
Admittedly, I helped, massaging her beautiful ass and rubbing the
base of my cock against her clit. I backed her against the wall and
shifted my hands to her thighs. Her legs parted and, with a little
squirming and maneuvering, I was able to get my reinvigorated cock into
a position where it suddenly slid up the channel into her cunt.
She sighed and tried to hold me even closer. Her right foot hooked
behind my knee. I tried bending at the knees to get some friction
started, but my sister was too close to my own height and too heavy to
lift, especially in the slippery shower. I was only able to move an
inch or so in and out of her and both of us were becoming frustrated.
Finally, she reached down and squeezed my balls and slid off of me.
"Fuck me from behind, Michael," she said urgently.
She went quickly down on her hands and knees, facing away from the
shower head. I immediately knelt behind her and spread her upper thighs
with my hands. She angled her ass upward and her pussy showed itself
invitingly. I slid my hand between her legs and grasped her whole
crotch. She made a sound in the back of her throat and increased the
angle of her spine even more.
I moved up closer and slid my fully erect cock smoothly into her
yet again. Alex's head whipped back and a tremor traveled down her
body. As I began plunging away, she contracted the muscles in her
vagina in counterpoint. Soon, she was down on her elbows, bracing
herself against the tile as I slammed into her. Her body was being
jolted so much, I was afraid she might bang the top of her head against
the wall. But when I tried to ease off a little, Alex only insisted,
"No! Fuck me harder! Harder!"
I held onto her hips and when I squeezed, she moaned and gasped
even louder. But the floor of the shower was slippery and so were we,
and Alex's knees gradually slid out from under her. When it became
obvious that she was going to wind up on the floor of the shower, I
pushed into her as far as possible and settled her carefully, face down.
The hot water splashed off my back and my pubic hair was tickling
her asshole. She twitched her buttocks against my belly as a signal to
recommence our activities. I began fucking her again, hoping my cock
wouldn't slip out, but that turned out not to be a problem. In fact,
when she pressed her thighs together, with my legs on the outside, I
discovered that the friction had improved -- even with my sister's
naturally snug cunt. It also was obvious that the friction against her
clit had increased.
As I speeded up my strokes, shoving her whole body forward each
time, she emitted little sobs of passion. She stretched her arms back
and spread her hands along my sides, and I laid my full weight along her
body, pulling her shoulders and arms back.
Though I didn't really think about it until later, there was a
certain amount of domination/rape fantasy going on. I wouldn't have
hurt Alex for anything, and she trusted me absolutely, which allowed her
to at least pretend to give up some of her control, to be submissive in
her fantasies. Whatever the case, we both got off on it.
As we speeded up again, I definitely began to feel that I was
"using" her and my reaction to that was a bit uncertain, but Alex seemed
to be enjoying herself enormously -- this was our third time around this
evening -- and that knowledge kept me aroused.
Finally, as we began the climb to another orgasm, I moved one hand
between our bodies so that my thumb insinuated itself between her
buttocks and pressed against her rectum. I was taking a chance since I
had no idea how my sister would react to ass-play. I wrapped my other
hand in her hair and tugged back just enough to make her arch her neck.
My hesitancy was answered when she shivered under the hot shower
and my hot body and her ass trembled. I slammed into her the last two
times and ejaculated more heavily than I would have believed. At the
same time, I pressed my thumb a half-inch into her rectum and twitched
it from side to side. I pulled a little harder on her hair.
She stiffened and I thought I had gone too far. But then she took
a deep breath, sighed loudly, and let her whole body relax, almost
seeming to sink into the tile. Still lying on top of her, covering her
body with mine, I felt I was both dominating and protecting her. I
stroked her arms and flanks and kissed the back of her neck and her
shoulders. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and just lie there.
Eventually, though, I levered my weight off her and climbed
unsteadily to my feet. Now the water was splashing on Alex and she
moaned a little and came back to the real world. She stood and we clung
to each other without speaking. There was nothing more to be said that
we hadn't already communicated with our bodies. My penis was sore and
numb and her vagina was filled to the brim with my sperm, and the world
seemed perfect to us.
We finished our shower -- or, rather, we started over again -- and
dried each other lovingly, pausing for kisses which were filled with
love and affection now, rather than raw passion. It was nearly 2:00 in
the morning when we finally slid wearily into bed, naked, me spooning in
behind her. One of my arms supported her head and the other wrapped
itself around her torso. Alex sighed happily and wiggled back against
me. I kissed the back of her head and murmured, "I love you..."
She stroked my arm a few times. "Oh, Michael, I love you, too...."
We drifted off to sleep, stiff and tired and a little dazed, but happier
and more content than we had ever been before.
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Copyright 1993 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted
elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.
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