Chapter 5
When he was with Lisa, Chris tended to think of Jill; with Jill, his mind was frequently on Lisa. It was only when he was in bed with his sister that she could drive thoughts of any other women out of his head.
He pushed the doorbell. The summer day seemed relatively clear, for Los Angeles. Of course, this part of the valley was always relatively clear. He heard footsteps coming closer to the other side of the door, but his broad smile was spent on Jill's housekeeper, Wendy. She was wearing oh-so-tight hot pants that seemed to betray the contour of her external genitalia. The absence of a bra conspired with the shorts to eliminate even the possibility of disguising her shape.
She let him in, standing still while she held the door. She pushed the door back to the threshold, and it snapped shut. Wendy seemed to be watching him. Before he had started this affair with his sister, he had fantasized about the girl, and sometimes it had seemed to him that she was "coming on" to him, but usually he dismissed the idea. She was, after all, several years older, at a time in a girl's life when a difference in age like that really counted.
"Your sister wouldn't even let me help her make you lunch. She said she wanted to do it by herself."
Christopher smiled; of course, the affectionate side of Jill's nature was nothing new-he had known it in her since she baby-sat for him as an infant.
He was glad now that he hadn't been successful in looking for a full-time summer job; it gave them more time together. Just as he wondered whether Wendy was to be there all afternoon, the girl moved to the door and pulled it open. Turning, she smiled. "Well, have fun. I've got classes till four."
"Oh," Chris tried to say as brightly as he could, but though he found the girl attractive, his mind was already on his sister-on the smell of her light sweat, on the way her hair fell down on her naked shoulders, on the way she would jam her breasts into his flat chest until the nipples, his and hers, scraped each other into erection.
He wandered into the kitchen while his ears registered the snap of the door on Wendy's exit. Jill was standing over a kettle. She was wearing a short white-and-black cotton print with a low neckline, and she'd dispensed with the formality of a bra. Her forehead was coated with a thin layer of perspiration, but that only made her look sexier-sultry, he said to himself, in the Los Angeles heat
Her head moved slowly, as if she were conscious of the impression she was making, to face him, but her lips turned to a wide smile. "Minestrone. Homemade."
"Ready?" He paused, suppressing a grin and then losing the effort and chuckling. "I mean the soup."
"Yes. It can wait, though, if you'd like."
Rather theatrically he looked down at his crotch, and Jill's gaze followed his lead. She laid the wooden spoon with which she stirred the soup down on the surface of the stove, carefully turned the heat down to simmer, and then walked toward Chris. He had been stiff all the way over, but now the numbness in the organ was broken by the throbbing of the blood inside it, pushing the veins out on the pink wrapping.
Jill opened her hand wide and shoved the palm against the shaft, forcing it to his belly. A spurt of the jizm oozed out onto the inside of his jockey shorts. She rolled the insides of her thumb and index finger so deftly that the prick bounced out of the briefs and pushed at the reverse side of his zipper. She rubbed the head, still covered with the corduroy slacks, before pulling the zipper down and letting the cock out for air.
She kneeled on the linoleum. The penis pointed straight up, so that from under it she could only blow her breath at the usually invisible side of the rod. Her forefinger's tip smoothly stroked the column down the center until it was trapped playfully inside the scrotum where the almonds inside jumped at the least flicking. She pushed her nail into the stalk buried under the sac, and Christopher, who had all morning been fantasizing her touch, groaned with delicious pleasure. It was the kind of pleasure that made him wish only that she would jab harder or squeeze him mercilessly, so the sensation would be all the more intense.
Her four longer fingers forced the prong down from its rising angle and she stuck her tongue from her mouth. The taste of the organ was salty; the skin had been sweating in its cotton binding. Her fingers again tightened and she used her grip to pull the foreskin away from the glans while she swept from side to side with her thick, sensitive tongue.
The goo was bubbling hot in his lower parts and even at the base of his spine he felt the welling tension. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he was lost in a whirl of darkness. The vortex of his senses was hinged to her tongue, and the sensing mind was precarious as Jill moved her tongue so swiftly on the downside of the phallus.
Not knowing why, he had forced his buttocks together as if bracing himself for the shock of her soft, liquid mouth on his cock. But it made it all the easier for Jill to pull at his belt, unbuckle it, and slip his cords down his clenched hips. She grabbed the prick just under its head and brought it to her pursed red lips. She blew on it lightly, but the air she exhaled was hot and seemed to envelop him in a jungle musk His warm thirst was quenched, though, in the next moment, as the lips slid down the solid inches of the tube, moist warnings for the perfect wetness, the soaking, that would follow. The pressure of her teeth were light and at first her tongue did not move under the heavy dork But when four inches were injected into her, she grated her teeth on his prick-flesh, signaling him to stop for the moment, and her tongue swirled luxuriously around the erection. Her hands played with the outsides of his upper legs, covered with short, blond hairs, and she shivered when the fingertips moved inside to roll over his more sparsely-haired thighs. He tightened those muscles as if to protect himself, and he thrust his pelvis forward, burying an inch more of himself into his sister's orifice. Her fingertips gripped the muscles, and her thumbs curled up to play with his balls. He breathed in deeply and his throat was so dry the air felt raw on it
His sister was mumbling something he couldn't make out. She was humming, and her breasts were soft on his stiffened legs. He clutched her shoulders with his hands, leaning forward but afraid to move too violently less he slip from the warmth of her tongue and lips. Now the words were audible as she shoved the side of the shaft against her cheek, and she touched her tongue to her mouth's roof. "I love to suck you.... Oh, it's so good.... Your cock is so nice, so big...
It felt big, even to Chris; it felt as though it was bursting with blood and come. Now when she pulled the foreskin back, her tongue licked the glans clean of any semen that had leaked from the slit. She threw her head back and the hair sprayed about her neck and shoulders. When she put her lips to the dork again, a second later, it was to lick it up and down like a lollipop. The pressure was lighter, almost ticklish, but it turned him on even more wildly; it was like the kiss of a butterfly where he was most sensitive.
He wanted all of her, her teeth and her tongue and the insides of her cheeks, but she was teasing him with the soothing tongue tip. His fingertips bleached impressions of themselves into the back of Jill's neck. His knees bent, and the first time his dome pressed against her lips and, beyond them, her teeth. She turned her head from side to side so the friction of the enamel against his slit could excite him. A droplet of the cream floated out and stuck to her teeth. Breathing in deeply she spread her moist lips. Planting her thumbs next to each other on the base of the cock beneath the scrotal skin she slid down the rod and took three-quarters of it into her mouth. Her fingers played with his pubic hair while she puckered her lips round the organ's circumference and tried to suck the white steam from its root, from his belly.
She made a fist at the dongs origin and bent it this way and that inside her mouth, running the tongue along its side while it touched the edges of her teeth which she teasingly rubbed on it. She smashed the side of her hand into the juice-bag, separating the testicles like billiard balls.
Christopher, his legs spread apart so wide he could barely stand, leaned over so that his mouth touched his sister's scalp. He was sweating, and a thin rivulet of saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. Lazily his tongue scraped her own moist skin through her hair. His nails scratched the base of her neck as he tried to drive himself even deeper into her wet cove. Low whimpering sounds surprised him as they came from his throat-they were like messages from a ventriloquist within. His pelvis and stomach were glutted with a low, hot ache as the come waited to zoom out.
For Jill it was becoming a struggle of power; she wanted to make him come and her ego needed to make him come. The cock in her mouth was like an animal she could and would and must tame.
The dog-water already coated the edge of her throat like thick cream, soothing her as she waited for the wet explosion. She thrust her thumb in the middle of the shaft just before it disappeared inside the scrotum. He was jamming himself against the roof of her mouth. He drew his hands back to his own body. The tops of his palms pressed his hip bones and his wrists curved to touch the start of his ass. His fingers moved in toward his belly and pressed at it as if to send the semen shooting out through the erection that moment.
He'd been leaning forward over Jill, his body like a question mark. But now he raised himself off his sister while still keeping the dong in her mouth, under the press of her tongue, and he arched his spine. The prick brushed the top of her mouth, and her teeth cut into the shaft near where the curly hairs marked the base.
All of a sudden the starchy fluid burst from the slash in his penis and covered the entrance to her throat. She swallowed the first load, but the next wad seemed to clot the space at the end of her mouth and she breathed in furiously through her nose to rest-and then more of the gum pushed the previous load down the tunnel. Her chest was hot with the scalding juice, filling her like heavy broth. She yanked on the wrinkled scrotal skin as if to stop the tide, but he only spewed the faster, or so it seemed. She gulped, and her hand loosed its grip on the bag and slipped between his spread thighs to bite with her fingers into his tightly muscled ass.
When he was through, Christopher was surprised by the almost death-like stillness of the kitchen, the slight ringing in his inner ears in the aftermath of pleasure.
Jill let her body fold to the floor in exhaustion. Her dress had rumpled under her, but Christopher could see a flash of naked thigh nonetheless, and the rim of her pink panties. Christopher straightened, his prick wilting and soon hanging limply from his fly. His sister raised her hand to wipe the skin above her eyebrows clean of perspiration.
"Thank you, Sis," he said rather awkwardly, and Jill smiled at him, holding back a small laugh and nodding rather solemnly. "You're welcome, Christopher."
She paused and took a deep breath. "Would you like lunch, now?"
He smiled ingenuously; yes, he was hungry. She rose, covering her upper leg with the swirl of her skirt, and consulted the kettle. She poured soup into two bowls and they sat down to the table with the sandwiches she had already prepared.
They were silent through much of the meal, but as Christopher took the last bite of his ham and cheese on rye, Jill curled her tongue out to shine her hipper hp and asked him "if you think you're rested enough."
Christopher's sophistication was not such that he could answer her question without the trace of a snicker. In fact, however, Jill thought she noticed his eyes widen, and in the next moment shift concentration to her breasts.
Though he had a napkin available to him he brushed his mouth clean with the back of his tanned hand and he rose expectantly. Across the table, his sister took his hand by the wrist and squeezed it, then let go and ran, half laughing, from the kitchen, across the house toward the bedroom, her brother laughing in mock pursuit.
She was just beyond the threshold when he grabbed her from behind. Jill felt the brutish pleasure of his cock sticking into the plush of her buttocks, even through the thin cotton of the garment. Chris pressed his mouth to her bare shoulder and felt the heat and moisture there, tasted the salt. Stepping back, he turned her around in his strong grip to face him. His chest rubbed against her boobs which hung loose, their tits hard. His right hand pushed into her midriff through the blouse, then went lower and slipped under the clothing. The curved undersides of her melons were warm and perfect.
She shook her head teasingly. "No, you can't touch me naked, only through my clothes."
Her expression seemed serious, and Christopher's first reaction was one of hurt.
"Why?"
"Oh, silly-I was just playing, teasing you." Her brother smiled his relief.
Still he thought it was a silly thing to tease him with-it reminded him all too much of the early stages of his sexual relationship with Lisa. He would grab her and she would object. Finally she would succumb to the caresses, but when he would begin to undress her, she would hold him off. Each step was a battle and now it seemed to him that any holding back, any hesitation, was unnecessary. He was unaware of how "charming" his sister found his youth.
He stood two feet from her so that his arm was still bent at the elbow when he reached for her breast and touched the center of her nipple with his thumb. It grew more distinctly erect, and even the color seemed more intense moment by moment under the thin, pale cotton. Jill closed her eyes and bit into her lower lip with her upper front teeth; the lip appeared to blush white.
His hand moved to the other breast and played the same magic with the matching areola. Lazily the fingers swept down between the breasts and settled between Jill's legs through the skirt. Christopher wondered if he were imagining it or whether it really was moisture he felt even though his fingers were separated by dress and panties from her pud. He shoved deeper, testing the bed of hair that protected the pink slash, and his sisters legs spread under her, scissoring as she stood.
His other hand grabbed her right breast and squeezed it, and the peak stood out even clearer. The hand that had pressed her mound made an arc around her body and clutched her firm butt so that Jill squealed with delight. She brought her mouth to his ear and licked the lobe tantalizingly, making the blood surge from deep inside the base of his belly.
"O.K., " he said almost breathlessly. "You've gotta let me if you're going to do stuff like that."
His sister smiled. She liked turning him on. She stepped back and started to unbutton her blouse. The breasts poured out, but they were firm and did not sag. The tits were still sharp and stiff. She bent forward and the nipples pointed to the floor as she unbuttoned her skirt at the side. Her panties were too thick to see the cunt hair distinctly at the crotch, but not too thick that the texture of the strands in the tuft was not evident. The hair was dense around the snatch.
She waited, almost posing for him; it is true his eyes were hungry for her nudity. "What about your pants?" he asked greedily. "Them, too?" she asked in return, and he nodded, satisfied that she would obey him.
Her hands opened at her hips and she seemed to bend them out as if the fingers wished to touch the backs of her wrists. With the top of the palm pressed to the garment at her sides she rolled the waistband down until the pink covered just the hairy twat, and then she uncovered even the hole.
While his eyes were fixed on her pussy she stared with equal interest at his crotch and the signs of his desire were more obvious. She was experimenting with the feeling of passivity-"What do I do now?" she asked next-but she was tempted to go over and pull the trunk out of his pants and lead him by it back to the bed where she would devour it with the vacuum between her legs. But instead she waited for the answer to her question; she would in any case get her reward-possession of the prick-fairly soon, if the way Chris moved his mouth just now, the way he always moved it when he was most hot, was any clue. It seemed twisted at the left corner and lazy and almost unmuscled at the other.
"Lie down on the bed." She sat herself down and then leaned back, not bothering to sprawl her legs open and reveal the vagina. "Not like that. Spread your legs so that I can see you." His voice was without emotion, but he was breathing heavily.
She followed his instructions. David had once brought home a stag movie for her to watch and the movie had begun with a woman coming into what looked like a motel room and undressing, then lying-finally writhing-on the bed. Jill enjoyed for a moment the fantasy that Chris was the director of some such film and she the principal player. like the girl in the skin flick had done she pressed her fingers into her stomach just inside the rising of her pelvis bones. She arched her spine and showed off her boobs and even lightly thrust her ass off the bed so that her brother could get an even clearer view of her pussy.
"Yeah," he said softly as he watched her and she saw that he was already undressing himself. He slipped his shirt over his head and uncinched his belt. He bent over to loosen his shoelaces and then climbed from his pants. His cock already stood out from the folds of cotton in the underwear and he had to hold it back toward his stomach with one hand while with the other he pushed the briefs below toward his thighs and then let them fall to his ankles.
In the daylight of the room he threw his body on top of her own and his cock pushed into the mattress between her extended legs. Instantly she brought them close together. His mouth was open and his tongue played with hers. She reached down and found his cock. Expertly she pulled the skin up and down and worked against the rhythm of blood her fingertips detected.
After the first dozen swift strokes she brought the flat of her forefinger down on the slit to see what reward her efforts had brought her and the gash was covered with white foam. When she grabbed the prick again she was slower and more luxurious with her pumping because she did not want him to climax too soon-and when he did, she wanted the sweet juice inside her.
Following her lead, Chris had put his hand down on her sex organ. The outer flaps of the beaver were hot though not as yet moist. He separated his first and second fingers, and the tip of each moved up the opposite side of the vagina, stroking gently the pinkish-purple labia and threading through the tangle of hair. Her sweet, womanly aroma grew stronger as he prodded the puffy lips. One particular blister swelled as he rolled it back into the nest of hair. His second and third fingers rubbed the gash itself from side to side and soon the hole was greased. The two fingers then plowed inside and her walls pressed at them as though the vagina was a trap. He straightened the fingers and shoved them as far up his sister as he could. Her ass left the bed again and she let him stuff her with the digits. He flicked his wrist and made the opening go wider. She was juicy with the flow of her cunt-water and the fire in her crotch was already licking at her belly. Her hand was full of his cock and the veins inflated with new blood. His balls were heavy and the air whistled through his teeth when she played with them. She put her mouth to his neck and licked the sweaty skin. He stretched himself and pushed the head of his prick to her twat-folds.
"Not yet," she said, her voice a sigh, "not quite yet." If he were rushing her by speeding up the rhythm of his fingers over her erecting clitoris, she did not feel rushed. But the thin lubrication already soaked the inside of her wound. She brought her soles up against the bedspread as she folded her legs. "Eat me," she commanded. "Just a little." For a moment her brother seemed to hesitate, but then he pushed himself down the bed on his palms and drilled his mouth to the outside of the sex tunnel.
She squirmed as his lips rammed closer to the pussy by pressure of his teeth. Her skull was lazy on her neck and she rubbed its base into the pillow, purring as Chris lick-fucked her. His lips smeared against the folds of the organ and she felt the cold enamel against her clit. The little jewel was rubbed raw by its edges but she delighted in the mingled pain and pleasure.
His fingers moved between his mouth and the beaver, massaging the very area he had covered with his saliva. He opened the hole to his tongue and the tip slipped in to taste either side of the internal muscle.
"Now... now!" she insisted, and her brother was more than ready. He lay on top of her so that it was hard for her to breathe; still, she liked him on her, wanted his weight to crush her down. His cock was just under her snatch, and she grabbed it but could not fit it into the hole because it pointed straight at the mattress under her. He lifted his body up on one palm and then jutted forward, the curved prickhead against the moist aperture. Teasing herself with the feel of his stiffness she took the staff and rubbed the head back and forth over the cavity; the friction of her pubic hair excited him and he left a thin streak of dog-water on the tuft.
Now she let him inside her. He pushed in, her hand still wrapped around the tube; she let go and he drove the rest into the vagina by main force. The soggy walls of her organ hugged the instrument and the satin stroked his exposed glans. He kissed her and this time his kiss was rough. His teeth cut into her lips hard enough to cause tears to come to her eyes. He was like an animal as he made love to her. He stuffed her with his cock and she was grateful for each forward thrust, resentful each time he pulled back and almost left the pussy.
As though he were dancing, he stuck his hip out and smashed the cock into one side of the cunt, opening the hole wider from the outside. He pushed his forefinger beside the shaft of his erection and the two joints plunged forward at the same time. He withdrew his finger, wet with cunt dew, and he soothed the clit, sore with hunger for him.
His other hand was forcing her jug back to her chest, and her nipple, sharp and tense, was scratching his perspiring palm. She was shaking her head and breathing heavily through her mouth; occasionally her soft, pink tongue would slip out to moisten the corners of her parted lips. He squeezed the breast tighter and pushed his stomach up off his sister. Moving a foot down the bed, he took her breast in his mouth and sucked on the tit while Jill groaned her pleasure.
"I want you, Chris. I want you so bad," she whispered, stroking the back of his neck with her fingertips. Her buttocks were beating at the mattress time.
Chris slipped inside her; she was moist enough now so that he could aim himself at the pussy and fill her in a single stroke. He grabbed her under the ass, the undersides of her thighs, and held her close to him. Her legs had been drawn near and he barely lifted her weight from the bed as he planted his cock inside. He was conscious, as she was, that he was doing all the work. She could be passive; the motion in her body were the involuntary tremors of near orgasm that filled her-each one a false alarm as he held off from shooting his gism into her womb.
She wished he would. Her mind was blank but for the image of a river of surging come that would drown her from the inside out. His fingers tightened as they held her buttocks at the rims and the wrists pushed her lean flesh back to her bones. Now, now, she thought, gasping as if she could not hold off one second more.
She was coming! She could not hold back; her body was not her own. It moved like a single taut muscle, a fist that had in its center her brother Christopher s hard prick.
The sight of his prostrate sister's twisting body excited him and he was gratified with his power as he jammed the organ into the snatch in time to the rhythm of her violent climax. But he was not as far separate from her satisfaction as he had thought-the fire seemed to well at the bottom of his belly and then to force up, burning away at the tree of his cock until it shot out from the head and drenched his sister's pussy.
Her orgasm ended as his began, and he was vaguely aware-though caught in the beat of his own coining-that she was drained and exhausted and that her body was less energetic now. Even the sides of her inner cunt did not slide so fiercely against the phallus-she was, at the very end, as motionless as a doll. But still the foam sprayed from him, while his chest heaved anxiously, until at last he was through, delivered.
"That was beautiful," Jill said. "You're beautiful," she said, and the words were punctuated by the deep breaths she had to take to keep up with her spent body.
"You're beautiful," Christopher said, and he knew that he meant it But already his mind was swimming with the confusion that had until now only hit him late at night just as he was drifting to sleep. This was his sister! He was not sure as this came home to him for the hundredth time whether he blushed, or whether his whole body was hot in the wake of his orgasm.
He was pleased with himself, certainly; he was almost embarrassed at the relief he had felt when it had come to him that he had finally lost his virginity. But somehow doing it with his sister lessened it-or did it? Perhaps it heightened it Sometimes when he thought of her-when, on the weekends, when David was in and out of the house, she could not see him-the idea that he was fucking his sister excited him especially. His sister!
Was it guilt, he wondered, or some other feeling? He longed to ask her, but he was afraid. She might think him ungrateful. Worse, his vaguely articulated misgivings might spread to Jill and she might call the whole thing off.