Chapter 3
Chris cleared his wet throat and breathed deeply through his nostrils. As the air filtered out again, he said, as softly as his sister but more firm, "I love you, too." More her lover now than brother, he put a comforting hand to her left breast, fingers dangling on the flat of her diaphragm now. Her areola had gone soft as a cherry's surface.
She balanced the fleshy mound by cupping its underside in her palm. She eased herself into the narrow frame of her brother's arms, which laced underneath her own; his fingers folded over the small of her back.
Inside her, the erection had deflated partially, and the soft member was embedded in a matrix of hormonal fluid and come, the latter seeping out through the open outer folds of the slit and staining the sofa beneath them. Noticing, Jill did not arouse herself to concern. It could wait.
It was Christopher who tore the coupling. He dug his butt into the couch and lifted his sister off the sagging dick. She was on her knees, and her buttocks pushed down on her heels.
Fondly she squeezed the limp bat between his legs. Its flesh glistened with his own essence and hers.
The burnt, brown rings toppled above each other, like the child's toy of a coiled wire that could be stretched and could fold down on itself.
Her left hand went to the feminine incision, and she tested herself for drainage of semen. She was stirred to action and rose. She turned toward her brother, still supine on the couch. "I'll be right back."
In the bathroom she took a fresh washcloth from the linen closet. She ran hot water over it and applied it to the vagina's outer folds. She did not want to douche; that would dry her for later if he would want to make love to her again. Her forefinger and index finger were wrapped inside the wet canopy of the textured cloth. She poked inside the hole and scraped the soft walls with it. The adhesive stuck to the white rag in clumps of liquid ivory. She ran the tap again and squeezed the cloth. She sniffed; she was not sure if it still smelled of come. She opened the hamper and threw it inside.
Inside the living room, her brother was tucking his sport shirt into his slacks. He looked up at her, and she detected more uncertainty than guilt in his demeanor.
His eyes went down, but he quickly turned them away when they spotted the crumpled panties by the sofa's edge. Jill tensed her body. She straightened her dress and smoothed it with both hands. Her right hand rested on her right hip as she leaned on that leg.
"Can you, again?" The phrase was elliptical, but Jill knew, from the sudden fire in her brother's eyes, that he understood the question, and that he could make love to her again. She raised her arm toward him, though he was half the room away. like metal under a magnet's spell, he moved toward her. She turned and walked up the stairs to the dining room, through the kitchen and past the hall bathroom from which she'd just come, to the bedroom she and David had previously shared, her own now.
His steps were soundless behind her. Already his fingers worked at the buttons he had just fastened. Fabric brushed against fabric as he pulled the shirt from its moorings inside the jeans.
Jill went immediately to the corner of the room to the right of the door. In front of the wall closet she stepped out of her wrinkled summer dress. She was naked. She went to the large bed and did not bother to peel down the thick-quilted spread. She rolled her body twice over and crushed her breasts in one half-turn and revealed her round, full buttocks in the next Her toes turned outward to the sides of the bed. The heels, separated by several inches, did not meet. The separation of her thighs and limbs formed a perfect overturned "V." Christopher looked into the generous threading of pubic curls over the raw, pink flesh. His sister's left arm touched the front of her left thigh; her right bent back so that her fingers pressed her right shoulder.
Carelessly he threw his shirt at the same chair his sister had placed her dress. He missed. Pulling out his belt from its loops, he let it curl like a defeated snake to the floor as he stepped out of the pants. He bent forward to push down his cotton undershorts. His right foot stepped on these as his left stepped out of the pants leg. Nude, he moved toward his sister's nakedness. Slowly, he fell to the bed. The two bodies were graceful parallels in quick motion.
His fiber was not hard yet, but had begun its ascent.
She squeezed at it and felt the blood race through the warm tube. Rubbing the bases of her finger knuckles against its length, the tips of the fingers moved to the sac below, and tapped rhythm between the bobbing testes.
He put most of his weight on his knees, but she felt his bulk and squirmed from under him, gesturing with her palm that he turn onto his back.
She made a ring of her thumb and forefinger. She brought the two together at the base of the stiffening muscle. The organ bent to her lips an inch away from the rod. She twisted and puckered them, licking first the upper and then the lower fold with the tip of her wet tongue.
Serpent-like, the tongue quivered over the thin gash at the penis head. The soft organ brushed flat over the dome and withdrew between her lips. Her brother's spine tensed to a coil under her. He held his breath and waited for the next delicate assault.
She bowed her head over the instrument so that he saw only the dark brown silk of her hair. Her tongue traced the line of the glans and her skull moved in a circle to the tube's other side. She licked the salty foreskin and tasted the dried semen that had remained. New dog-water forced out the slit in tiny drops. Impatiently her fingernails dug into the flat side of the cock; Christopher thrust his chest forward at the delicious pain.
Her mouth closed in over the head and her teeth grazed the end of the foreskin. She pushed the dong to her inner cheek with her hand and let the weapon spring back. She caught it on the edges of her drawn upper and lower front teeth; she held it there for a moment before pushing it to the other side of her mouth.
She opened her mouth as wide as possible and tried to stuff as much of the instrument inside her as would fit. Her tongue slid against one side as the other side rubbed the hard palate. The dome of the prick pushed at the beginning of her throat and her mouth opened to gag again and again, yet each time she suppressed the choking.
The teeth grated the taut flesh. She sunk the edges into the meat, but Christopher grunted harshly. His warning cry made her stop. Soothingly, comfortingly, she licked the bite-welts to ease the soreness.
Her mouth moved up the perpendicular. She lingered for a last puckered suck at the head, licked clean of the early semen. Her hands moving under his spread thighs, Christopher felt her warm bath envelop the scrotal sac. The tongue tip pushed up against the passive almonds while her thumb played insistently with the hidden root. She took the whole bag into her mouth and licked at the skin while she draped the edges of her teeth with her lips.
Her right palm was open. She ran it up and down the splinter while the knuckles pushed into the indentation of the glans. Christopher's groans became sudden grunts, and she knew it would not take much to drive him over the brink of orgasm. Would she take him inside her or let him come in her mouth? The cock expanded and she took it in. She sucked in; her lips covered her teeth and pressed into the shaft.
The seminal fluid almost drowned her in its warmth as he shot. Some of the white goo trailed down her inner cheeks and adhered to the molars or premolars, or else dribbled out of the corners of Jill's mouth. She tried to swallow all she could, but lava seemed to flow from the tip as from a volcano come to life.
His stomach and chest heaved with his intake of breath in the aftermath, and the air wheezed as he exhaled it. Her tongue was soggy with his cream as she brought her mouth off the prick.
She rested on her elbow, the womanly form perpendicular to the male. Her back rested on the fleshy, masculine thigh. His crotch smelled of salty sweat and sweet come. She gulped down the semen that remained at the edge of her throat. Cat-like, she cleaned the inner cheeks with her tongue. She licked her lips and extended the tongue tip to her chin, where a strand of the glue remained.
They did not move for minutes. Then Christopher's muscles began to tense, and his body stirred. His fingers pushed in at her stomach just above the navel. He slid on his side, his chin almost touching the beginning of his chest.
Jill knew the gift he offered, and she spread her legs again. Her box reeked of the hormonal film. She was hot, and sweat was cold on her neck and underarms. His warm tongue met the matting of thick hair at the base of the overturned triangle. Its tip traced the line of pure white skin, the boundary above the sexual hair. The soft arrow moved into the web itself and pointed downward until it lodged against the willing clit. The button grew and tensed under his prodding mouth. His lips pressed the clitoral ridge, and she felt him hold back the force of his teeth below the full lips.
His finger ran up and down the slick crevice itself. At last it poked in and flagged from side to side. The walls pushed back around it. He withdrew the stained bone and brought another with it for the second descent inside the fleshy organ. His tongue wagged against the clitoris in alternation with his lips, which sucked the filament inside his mouth. His fingers shoved harder with each thrust, shortening the space between advance and retreat. like twin diving rods they drew moisture from the inner cunt. The juice eased their way as they pushed forward.
He raised his head and kept his fingers motionless inside of her. He pushed himself up on the bed next to her. Her eyelids were drawn shut and her face was calm as though she were dreaming, but her rapid and heavy breathing gave the fie to appearance. With his lips closed together, he pushed her head to one side. He sought out her ear in the tangle of her coiffure. The tip of his tongue traced the spiral. His sister thrust her breasts forward, and Christopher drew his fingers from the well of her vagina to press the moist flats against the areolas. Pushing the caps inside the soft projection, the nipples became pebble-hard. The surface of the fingertips, oiled with the juices of her woman, slid over the erupting erectile tissue of the reddish peaks.
His mouth continued to suck at her ear, and Jill bucked her hips like an untamed horse. His knee forced itself against the hairy covering of her genitalia, and her legs closed in around his inserted limb. The hidden back of the ear pressed the dry upper palate while his moist tongue lashed the uneven surface. Covering the edges of his teeth to protect her, the tongue and palate came together to pull in at the ear's edge. His hand opened and snuggled between his own kneecap and the raw folds of her meat. He rolled the clitoris between the thumb and forefinger; Jill moaned as she pushed her open mouth into his neck and bit the loose skin. His fingers circled through the strands of hair and the beaver shone with vaginal lubrication.
Her fingers scratched at the flesh around his waist. She thrust the flat of her thumb into the mop of hair above the prick's origin. She pulled back the foreskin and came toward the instrument with her glossy mouth half open. But instead of kissing the extended phallus, she ran the slopes of her breasts over it, covering it as the hillocks moved. The tit scraped the gash in the dong's head, and its sharp edge was wet with the sticky fluid.
"Fuck me in the ass this time," she said breathily as she pushed the plank down from its upward angle. She turned over, and Christopher leaned forward to massage her full buttocks. He parted the two small mountains and stared hungrily at the crevice of darkness between. His tongue played with the roundness of her woman-flesh before it crawled between the two and tasted the crack's heat. His wrist pushed into the right and shoved it away from its twin. His hands reached down by his sides, to the backs of her tightening thighs, as his prick dug between the globes. They shivered as his penis rammed up against the sphincter. She arched her spine to let him shove forward.
He stroked the grog's lining with the surging poker until most of it was buried. He wrenched back and attacked her again. His thumbs hooked under her armpits and massaged the damp, bare flesh as he rushed to fill the hot, tight pit. The sphincter's interior puckered around his glans, and he writhed back and forth until his chest thumped against her back, and the hot sperm let go inside of her as his palm pressed the button at the root of her belly.