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It Started with a Kiss Ch. 01

By: miss_honeypot



Frank Cassidy was one of those guys at school that you envied, yet couldn’t help like. Everyone liked him, the girls loved him because he never tried anything on the first, third or even tenth date - unless they were ready - and the guys did because he seemed to be able to drift from social group to social group with the grace of an Olympic ice skater. His life was perfect, or so he thought, until today when he did something that could have the potential to bring his entire life crashing and burning around him. 

As the echo of the school bell left all the students’ ears, the familiar murmur of voices drifted down the locker hallway, with a continual and almost musical ‘whap’ of the locker doors as the students slammed them shut. 

It was the final year of school and Frank found it fitting that Julie Bowman’s locker was below his, and that she was greeted to the close-up of his crotch between each class and after school. Julie was a stuck-up snob and almost the only person that attended Grammacy High that disliked him, even borderline hated him. And he didn’t know why. He’d asked her, but each time she just upped her nose at him and walked away, leaving him perplexed. 

Grinning, he pressed his crotch into the back of her head while pretending to reach into the back of his locker for something. There was no way she could mistake what it was. Yelping in surprise, she whipped her head sideways and looked up at him angrily. She was a cute girl, shapely figure, but at no time while in her tenure at Grammacy had she ever dated the opposite sex. The rumour was that she was a lesbian, but even Frank disliked gossip of that nature and never partook in it. Julie didn’t make it easy for anyone to like her, Frank included, yet he didn’t dislike her enough to spread unsubstantiated rumours of that calibre.

“You filthy bastard,” she hissed.

“What? I didn’t do anything Julie.”

Slamming shut her locker door with slightly more effort than necessary, she rose from her kneeling position and looked him right in the eyes. 

“You know exactly what you did and I have the right mind to go and tell Mr. Salsbury.”

“Julie,” he said, raising his voice so others could hear, “I can’t help it if you like getting down on your knees in front of my crotch every day. I mean hey, I’m flattered, sometimes it just gives me the wrong impression, that’s all. Honest mistake.”

There was a hush in the hallway and Julie realised that everyone was looking at them. Her eyes opened wide with embarrassment, cast a nervous glance around and with the finality of a spoilt brat she yelled at him a singular, ever so unique comeback, “bastard!” and then stalked off. 

When she was gone the guys laughed and patted him on the back, he even saw that most of the girls were sporting grins that they were trying to hold back or cover with their hands. No one at Grammacy liked Julie. 

Pete Marshall, his closest pal, smiled, shook his head and shut his locker door.

“You have a cruel streak in you, Frank,” he said.

“Hey man, she asks for it. She needs to thaw out a bit and lighten up. Besides, she’s never liked me and I don’t know why.”

Frank shut his locker door and shouldered his knapsack. The people in the hallway had mostly gone on their merry way and Frank cast a furtive glance at his friend.

“Why doesn’t she, Pete?”

“You know, the great Frank Cassidy is not a saint, there’ll be people who will come into your life and dislike you…it just so happens that around this place there’s only one.”

Frank laughed. “You know Pete, for somebody who talks a lot you don’t particularly have much to say. Why doesn’t she like me, a straight answer would be great?”

Pete Marshall sighed. Placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder, he looked him in the eye sporting a slight grimace and told him. “She’s in love with you man.”

Pete picked up his bag and hooked it over his right shoulder, leaving his friend to digest this morsel of information as he turned away and started down the hall.

Frank looked at his hands, no way, there’s no way she was in love with him. Was she?

“What the fuck do you mean she’s in love with me?” he shouted down the now deserted hall to his friend’s back. 

Pete couldn’t hold it in, he started to laugh and it echoed down the hall into Frank’s ears. Frank shook his head and laughed softly, Pete the bastard, he nearly had him. He turned away from his locker and walked the opposite way down the hall.

“Au revoir asshole,” he shouted over his shoulder.

“See you later, dipshit,” was Pete’s response. 

Frank’s house was a couple of miles from school and he walked it every day, a sort of sure-fire way of keeping fit. He always walked it alone too, he made it clear to everyone that this was his time, his alone time. He didn’t get much of that since he was so popular. It wasn’t conceited of him to think that way, it was true, and it would be false modesty if he were to say that he wasn’t well-liked by most.

Other than the periodical massaging of his crotch into the back of Julie Bowman’s head, he was single and hadn’t had a girlfriend in three months. The last girl he had dated, Kathy Williams, had left an emotional crater in him, he’d loved her, but she’d had serious trouble trusting him. She’d thought that at any moment of the day he would leave her, find someone else and dump her right away. After a while he couldn’t take it, she was just so worried and jealous whenever she saw him talk to another girl, or even cast his eyes over one. It broke his heart when he had to break up with her, but he knew that it was the best for both of them. 

He sighed, yeah, it was best for both of them. But it still hurt. 

Attracting the ladies wasn’t a problem for Frank Cassidy. He was blessed with his father’s sandy-brown hair, his mother’s good looks and his great-grandfather’s natural sporting prowess, which managed to keep his body athletic and in good shape.

When he arrived home from school he didn’t bother about slipping his house key out of his jeans, he knew that Monica would be home; she had a spare last period and always came home early. 

Monica was his younger sister and they were in the same year level at school. No matter how often he thought about it, it was hard to believe that she was roughly nine months younger than him. His father must’ve been on top of his mother only seconds after he’d been squirted out to pull that off. 

He walked through the unlocked door and was glad that his parents weren’t going to be home for another hour or so. On his way to his room he realised he hadn’t seen Monica in the kitchen; she’s usually in there with a glass of milk in one hand and a cookie in the other, ready to chat to him about her day or generally shoot the bull. 

Shrugging, he walked past his sister’s closed door and dumped his bag in his room, then changed out of his uniform. Most of the students at Grammacy hated wearing the uniform, but Frank loved it. Well, not wearing it, but the fact that all the girls had to. A lot of the girls looked really cute in the uniform, especially the ones with nicely shaped breasts, because the fabric of the shirt clung alluring to them. Whoever invented the uniform had to be a pervert, had to be. Frank grinned, he was reaping all the benefits. 

While grabbing a couple of biscuits out of the cupboard in the kitchen he cocked his head for any sounds in the house at all, he could vaguely hear something, but didn’t know what.

“Mon?” he shouted. “You home, Mon?”

He walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway, recalling her closed door. Rapping his knuckles on the wood, he asked again softly, “Monica, you in there sis?”

He heard some sniffling and the sound of someone blowing their nose behind the door. Shit, he thought. If that punk Robert Gault had done anything to her he was going to break his face open. 

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine,” she said.

“You sure don’t sound fine Monica, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, please just go away.”

He placed the palm of his hand on the door, feeling the grain of it. He loved his sister, she was the most important person in his life and he was extremely protective of her. Lately he’d…no, he wasn’t going to think about that.

He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it. She didn’t protest when it squeaked, so he pushed it all the way open and entered. He was a bit of a romantic at heart, there was something about the damsel in distress that made him want to be the shoulder to lean on. 

Inside, his sister was sitting on the edge of her bed crying, her eyes red and puffy and a box of tissues lying next to her. Her waste paper basket was at her feet, wads of tissues piling up inside, and her hand was shaking as she lifted another tissue to wipe at her nose. She was still in her uniform and he felt a stir in his pants when he saw that she was still in her shirt, sans jumper. After all, he was only human and his sister had a very shapely chest. 

He sat down next to her and grabbed a tissue out of the box, bringing it up to her face and wiping gently at the tears as they tracked their way down her cheeks. He slid an arm around her waist as he dabbed at her eyes. They’d always been close as brother and sister, yet at the moment it felt that not only did she need him, but he also needed her. Close contact with a girl, he realised, had been something he’d missed an awful lot since his break-up with Kathy. It didn’t seem to matter that the contact was with his sister, she was a beautiful young girl and it felt good to be touching her. 

It had been an ongoing problem for him as they had both grown up, he’d watched as she turned into a sweet-looking teenager, then an even more stunning young woman. Monica had the most beautiful green eyes that he’d ever seen, he found quite often that he would stare into them for just a second too long and he would then worry that she would know what he was thinking, or worse, what he was feeling. 

She was never one to be upset by something small, something big must’ve happened. His heart melted as he watched her being wracked by small sobs so he did the best he could, he just sat there and held her. 

With one long last sniff and blow of a tissue she turned to him and tried to smile. He moved a hand above her brow and swept back some of the hair that had fallen over her face, tucking it back behind her ears tenderly with his index finger. She had lovely honey-blond hair that came to her shoulders, which was currently tucked into a ponytail, some strands had obviously escaped. 

Now that she had more of a grip it was time for him to relinquish the arm around her waist – he didn’t want to but he knew that he had to. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked softly.

A few moments passed and he thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then she did.

“You’ll think I’m just a little kid Franky, I feel like I’m a little kid, it’s just so stupid.”

Franky was the nickname that his sister had given him since she was little, she only used it at home and no one else other than family knew about it. It’d always sounded cute coming out of her mouth so he’d let it slide. He liked it these days, because, well, he liked everything about his sister, perhaps a little too much. 

“No I won’t. It’s okay if you tell me,” he paused for a moment and then gazed into her wet eyes. “Is it about Robert?”

She looked away, yup, there it is. Robert was the guy she was dating at the moment. He was a real dickhead and it didn’t surprise Frank that he’d hurt Monica in some way. The problem was Robert was her first real boyfriend, which always struck him as strange since she was so beautiful. He didn’t think that any guy had ever asked her out before Robert had. Perhaps anyone that ever liked her just assumed that she would say no, and she was always too timid to ask out somebody she liked.

“He…he…dumped me. He said that…that he didn’t want to go out with a girl that takes it slow…wh….who’s a frigid bitch,” she sobbed. She put her face in her hands and started to cry again.

Frank was going to fuck him up big time, that guy wasn’t going to have any limbs left when he was done. How could you say that to a girl? He shook his head, amazed that such an asshole could be created.

As he slipped his arm around her again she sagged against his body, laying her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed and tears were streaming down her lovely face again, running off the edge of her cheeks and falling onto his t-shirt. With his other hand he rubbed at her right arm, softly caressing the smooth, warm skin. It seemed to be making her feel better and it was certainly having an impact on him, too. He couldn’t believe at a time like this, with his sister crying, that he could be getting a hardon. His dick was being totally inconsiderate.

“How on earth would that make me think you’re a kid?” he asked, looking down at her. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her hair was tickling his neck and the warmth of her body just felt so great. Damn it, he shouted at himself, pull it together man.

“Be…because I wouldn’t kiss him,” she said demurely. “I’ve never kissed a guy before and I was afraid I’d do it wrong. When I told him, he laughed and said I was just a dumb blond.”

He pushed all of his hatred for Robert down into his gut, far away from where she could see it and just looked at her. The image of her sweet face calmed him down instantly, her green eyes so open and expressive, how could he think of hate when he was looking at her?

“Mon, you’re anything but dumb, you’re one of the most intelligent girls I know. And…the first kiss is hard, you’re not a kid just because you’ve never kissed someone, you just have to find the right person.”

She didn’t say anything for a while and they just sat there in silence, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her waist. He knew that what he was thinking was wrong, she was his sister for God’s sake, yet he couldn’t see past the fact that she was so gorgeous. Lately he’d found himself looking at her body more and more, staring at the generous curves of her breasts, how shapely her ass was, her long legs and her lovely face. He should have been disgusted with himself, thinking these sick and perverted things. But knowing wouldn’t stop him, couldn’t stop him. 

He retracted his arm from around her, mentally slapping himself awake and realising that he was to get up and remove himself from her room before he did something stupid. Really stupid. 

He opened his mouth to tell her everything would be okay, she’d find the right guy sooner or later, when she put her hand on top of his and stroked it tenderly. She slipped her head from his shoulder and stared at him, her eyes were shimmering and her mouth was half-opened as if she was about to say something..

“What?” he asked.

She looked down, her lips were trembling and he sensed that she was about to tell him something very important.

“Do you think, um, do you think that you could maybe show me, um, show me how to kiss?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

It took him a few moments to realise that she was actually asking him to kiss her. Could he? Should he? The real question was: would he be able to stop himself at one kiss? Instead of tip-toeing through the tulips he decided to grab the bull by the horns.

“You want me to kiss you on the mouth, as in, properly kiss you?”

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay,” she said demurely. “I just…don’t know who else to ask. I’m so worried that I’ll do it wrong, but if I do it with you it won’t matter, ‘cause you’re a decent guy and won’t make fun if I botch it.”

This was one curve ball he’d never seen coming. It was the secret formula that every baseball pitcher kept for a rainy day, when things were getting truly out of hand. One of his strongest and recurring fantasies was kissing Monica, in fact, it played like a broken record on some days, he would daydream about it over and over and over. Of course, there were many other fantasies about her that weren’t quite as innocent as the one where they make out, and quite often they involved largely, if not exclusively, his cock sliding between the lips of her pussy.

“You’re not disgusted with me, are you?” she asked, her face riddled with worry. 

“Mon, god no, I could never, ever be disgusted with you. I’d…be honoured to be the first guy to kiss you.”

In what felt like slow motion he cupped her face in his hands and moved his mouth close to hers. It suddenly dawned on him that Monica may harbour similar feelings towards him. They were extremely close, even for siblings, and occasionally he’d wondered if the meaningful looks she gave him weren’t just his horny imagination running rampant.

Gently, he brushed his lips against hers, telling himself that it will only be a peck, that’s all. They both closed their eyes as he kept giving her small kisses, her breath was becoming heavier and her hands went up around his neck and dangled down his back. The light fragrance of her perfume was overpowering – only a peck – and then he slowly eased his tongue into her mouth. She moaned loudly, and as she’d seen in countless romance movies she slid her tongue against his and wetly kissed him back. 

He removed his hands from her face and slid them around her back, pulling her close to him, never breaking the kiss. The soft push of her breasts against his chest didn’t escape either of them. Their tongues swirled against one another’s, time was lost as they kissed, she ran her hands through his hair and they both sighed into each other’s mouths. 

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he pulled his mouth away from hers and looked at her. Her leaf-green eyes were fixed unwaveringly on his, they weren’t looking sad and miserable now, they were glowing and so was her entire face. Her lips were shiny and wet, their bodies still firmly stuck together. It would take a small nuclear device to separate his body from hers; he was holding her that tightly. 

Because of the way they were sitting his raging erection wasn’t rubbing against her. He had never in his life been this hard, he felt like he was going to explode. She was just so gorgeous, and he’d kissed her! He couldn’t believe it had happened, that he was holding his sister and they had just French kissed! 

“Wow,” she whispered, her breathing hard and irregular. “Did I do it right?

“You can’t get much more right than that, Monica. That was hot like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Oh, I believe it. It was everything I imagined and more.”

“Just not with the right guy, huh?” he asked, a lump forming in his throat at the thought of having to relinquish the sensation of her soft, warm body. 

“No,” she said, averting her eyes, “it was with the right guy.”

Before he lost his nerve he leaned forward and kissed her again, long and hard, their tongues sliding and sucking as they began to moan and whimper. He slid his hand downwards to massage her neck muscles with a skill that could only be born from experience. 

Monica was a quick learner and it seemed as if her body melted into his as their tongues began to wrestle with a ferocious intensity. She was panting hard and unashamedly enjoying every moment that they kissed, which surprised Frank because he’d assumed that she would be as self-conscious doing the act as she was in talking about it. They both continued to moan loudly as they shared their exquisitely passionate kiss and, listening to her small sighs of pleasure, he became even bolder so he slid his hand from her throat and down the slope of her right breast. 

Her eyes flashed open when she realised what he was going to do, he was going to feel her up. She untangled her tongue from his, disentangled herself from his arms and came to her senses. 

“Too fast,” she panted, placing her right hand on his chest. “Way too fast.”


It Started with a Kiss Ch. 01



He gathered his breath, calmed down and tried to get his heart rate under a hundred. He was so horny that he hadn’t been thinking, just acting. His dick had immediately taken over, luckily the look on her face let him know that she wasn’t angry. They’d both simply gotten carried away with the moment.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay, we just….this is a little strange for me.”

He stood quickly, not thinking about his little problem downstairs. Her face was near his crotch, so she was treated to a front row view of his quite visible erection, and after a moment of blatant staring she slowly raised her eyes to meet his. 

He felt a blush tint his cheeks and he started to back away from her. 

“I think I should be going, I….er….we’ll discuss this a little later when we’ve had time to think it over properly,” he stammered.

She picked herself up from the bed and grabbed his hand at the door, just as he was leaving. She rose to her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his again. Her slick tongue played out against his as they made out in her doorway, both feeding one another’s attraction with unhidden lust.

“We have to stop,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to though, I’m enjoying myself too much,” she shot back, her mouth still lightly kissing him.

“Let me rephrase – I have to stop. If I don’t stop, then I won’t stop, Mon.”

A cute little smile spread across her lips and her eyes momentarily dropped to his bulging crotch. It was as obvious as the nose on his face that he needed to take care of his problem down there; every few seconds his hands gravitated towards his crotch, only to stop them inches from it because of the company he was in.

“Did I cause that?” she asked, her eyes returning to his and her cheeks glowing tomato red.

“Yeah Mon, you did.”

“All I did was kiss you though, is that normal?”

Her frank curiosity about the state of his cock was turning him on even more. It felt so surreal to be standing in the doorway of his sister’s room, talking to her about his erection as if it was common practice. Hopefully, it would become just that. 

“I really love kissing, so no, it isn’t uncommon. What about you, didn’t I cause any stirring down there for you?”

“Well…” She bit down on her bottom lip and her cheeks went a darker shade of tomato. “You could kind of say that.”

Thoughts of her pussy being wet sent him crazy and if he stayed in the room a moment longer he’d probably launch at her in a sexual frenzy.

“I’ve really got to go, but we’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, smiling. 

Barely containing himself, he literally ran to his room and slammed the door shut. He yanked his pants down and flexed his hand, his cock springing to attention in anticipation.

“You and me pal,” he said.



* * * * *

After he’d cleaned up he sat on his bed thinking about Monica. All his teenage pre-pubescent fantasies about his sister had always troubled him, but he just figured that every teenager had weird fantasies. The thing was – they were always supposed to be just that, a fantasy. You’re not supposed to make out with your sister, no matter how spunky she is. Some things are taboo for that reason, you just don’t fuckin’ do them!

Their parents had been home for about an hour and they were preparing dinner. Any minute now his name would be called out to go and set the table, while Monica would help serve their meal. Would it be uncomfortable around her now, would she regret what they did? Did he regret what they did? All he knew was that he’d never felt that way when he’d kissed a girl, he’d completely let himself surrender to his passion, not caring if what they were doing was right or wrong. 

“Frank, come set the table, honey,” his mother yelled. 

Show time, he thought, as he rose from his bed. 

As he entered the dining room his heart skipped a beat, Monica had changed out of her uniform and was wearing a tight pair of cut-off Levis and a singlet that showed off her midriff. In short, she looked gorgeous. He moved into the kitchen where his parents were busy pouring each other a glass of white wine and went to the cutlery drawer. 

While setting the table Frank watched as his sister dished out the food, eyeing her closely, wondering what she was thinking. Every few seconds she would raise her eyes to his and smile, it was a teasing smile, the kind of smile that he was used to receiving from the opposite sex. His cock jumped in his pants. The smile, her attire and the lingering feeling of her tongue against his was just too much for him to handle. Also, his parents were in the next room, his mother giggling and he heard a slapping noise. Did his father just slap her ass? He looked over at Monica again; there was glint in her eyes, a come-hither sparkle. 

He couldn’t take it. He flashed Monica an uncertain smile and walked quickly into the kitchen, his parents were standing there necking and his anxiety level jumped into over drive. Fuck! He recalled the feeling of Monica’s body up against his, her warm breath on his mouth, her wet tongue sliding against his…

He heard a voice from far off. 

“Huh?” he said, looking up.

“Are you alright, Frank?”

It was his father. He suddenly realised he was shaking, thank god he was wearing a pair of jeans or else his erection would be making itself known to all. He knew how he must look – his eyes jumping around, his brow felt damp so he must have been sweating. He was disorientated, confused, what the hell was he going to do?

“Yes,” he said, trying to act normal. “Everything’s fine, Dad.”

“You don’t look fine, honey,” his mother said, moving away from his father and pressing her hand against his forehead.

Frank flinched and he knew that she noticed. He could feel the presence of someone behind him and he knew that it was Monica; she’d probably heard the concern in his father’s voice and come to investigate. 

“Are you sure sweetheart? You seem to be running a bit of a temperature?”

Frank lightly gripped his mother’s wrist and removed it from his forehead. “I’m fine mum, I’m just not hungry is all.”

He could feel Monica’s eyes burning a hole in his back. The right thing to do would be to turn around, give her a reassuring smile and eat his dinner. That was the right thing, but on most occasions when we know what the right thing to do is, we rarely have the guts to do it. 

Instead, he flashed his mother and father the reassuring smile that Monica should have received, turned and started walking from the room, offering no explanation for his behaviour and not planning on giving one.

“Honey, Frank, where are you going?” his mother called. 

“I’m just going to go to Pete’s,” he yelled over his shoulder. 

Like a man on a mission, he walked hurriedly down the long hallway and into the laundry, opened the back door and then stepped out into the night. 

He knew that his mother and father would be sharing quizzical looks, but then would probably just cast it off as some sort of adolescent thing and not give it much more thought. Monica, on the other hand, would know that something was up. And he felt like a complete shit leaving her to dwell on his erratic behaviour, she must be worried sick that he might be disgusted over what had happened between them. 

Pete was right. He wasn’t a saint, not even close. He was just way too confused right now to sit at the same table as Monica, to sit there and watch her eat, watch her smile a naughty conspiratorial smile at him, flashing him knowing glances and just generally be the girl that he happened to be in love with. He couldn’t do it; he needed more time to think about what he was getting himself into. No, what they were getting themselves into. 

What he needed was to be someplace that she wasn’t, somewhere he could think objectively about the situation and not have his mind clouded by the thought that she was only metres away from being in his arms, kissing him, where he might move his hand and– 

No! He couldn’t think that stuff. He had to remain clear headed. 

Pete’s, he would do something normal, go over to his friend’s house as he had done thousands of times before and get his mind together. Monica was his sister for Christ’s sakes and he had to get that into his head. She was his sister, it was wrong to do what they had done; she was the same flesh and blood as him.

He sighed inwardly. It sure hadn’t felt wrong though. It had felt fantastic. 

Frank climbed onto his mountain bike and made his way down the driveway and out onto the road. They lived in the upper class part of town, beautiful houses surrounded him as he made his way down the street, sans bike lights. There was a three quarter moon tonight, the sky cloud free, so the moon beat down a beautiful ambience that caused a soft shadowy figure to follow along, keeping pace with him, never leaving.

He loved cycling through the streets at this time of night, everyone in their homes eating dinner, talking about the day’s events, hopefully enjoying and making the most of each and every minute they had. He heard a dog bark off to his left, the streets were bare, the night silent and as he rode past houses he saw the gentle light leaking out from behind curtains. 

It probably wasn’t a good idea to go to Pete’s in the condition he was in, so instead he rode his bike around town for a couple of hours and bathed in the soft glow of the moon. For a Wednesday night it was relatively quiet, peaceful, and at times it felt as if he was the only person alive as he rode through empty, noiseless streets. 

Away from Monica’s knowing gaze he was able to calmly assess the situation. On one hand he had his beautiful sister who by all appearances wanted him as much as he wanted her, yet, on the other hand he had the total and utter destruction of his life if they were ever to get caught. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said to himself. 

At around 9pm he decided that he had to face Monica and flush out his feelings for her. But truth be told, he wasn’t sure which path he was going to go trekking down – taking things further with her or deciding against any and all sexual involvement. He just didn’t know. 



* * * * *

When Frank arrived home he immediately noticed his parents’ car missing. With his parents out – and with little doubt Monica would be with them – there would be no excuses he could give her to delay their inevitable discussion.

Although only minutes beforehand he’d felt ready for their confrontation, his hands were now clammy and he could feel sticky droplets of sweat sliding down the contours of his face. As confident and assured of himself as he usually was with the opposite sex, he was suddenly feeling apprehensive due to the nature of this particular female in question. 

Frank almost hoped she wasn’t home so that they could extend how long they both had to analyse their predicament. There didn’t appear to be any lights on inside, so he raised his hopes that Monica was also with his parents. He tried the door, it was locked, another good sign. With the stealth of a cat he silently removed his key from his pocket and slipped it slowly into the keyhole. The lock made a little ‘snick’ when the key turned and, while twisting the handle simultaneously, he pushed the door open and quietly entered the house. 

The empty silence was suddenly invaded by the sound of a television playing softly at the other end of the house. Damn it, she was home. He just wanted more time to think about the situation, to procrastinate, but he had a feeling that his sister would be catching up with him before the night was out. There was also the other possibility, after analysing things she may have come to the conclusion that any sexual activity between them was impossible. It was doubtful though, he recalled the kinky smile she’d given him and the glint in her eyes. He shook his head, and let’s not forget the fact that he wanted her badly, so badly that it almost hurt. 

Making his way to his room in the dark, neglecting the light switches in order to remain in stealth mode, he continued the line of thought. It wasn’t exclusively sex he was after, he was in love with her, he just hadn’t allowed the feelings to be evident on a truly conscious level until they’d kissed. 

Frank opened his bedroom door and shut it gently, then he moved over to his wardrobe and stripped out of his clothes and changed into his night attire, which consisted of nothing more than a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt. His curtains were still open so he was able to take advantage of the moonlight that streamed into his room instead of resorting to turning on his light. 

His stomach was resting in his throat; he was nervous and totally unsure of himself. These were traits that he wasn’t typically used to feeling; Monica had shorted out all of his circuits and thrown his entire life into chaos. Things had been ordered and rational before today, sure he was slightly lonely but his life had been uncomplicated. 

He could see his hazy reflection in the mirror, the worry in his eyes was evident and he tried to smile at himself. It really looked less like a smile and more like a grimace.

“Show time,” he said, his shadowy reflection following.

Creeping through the house, not entirely sure why he was creeping but doing so nonetheless, he made his way to the lounge room. The sound of the television was vibrating through his eardrums, but it wasn’t even registering. He came to the open archway that connected the lounge room with the kitchen and saw Monica sprawled on the three seater couch. She was propped up against the far right arm, the television off to the left and out of his line of sight, so her body was angled slightly away from him. Truthfully, she probably wouldn’t be able to see him, there was no light coming from behind him and the glow from the television pretty much only illuminated the other side of the room.

She took his breath away. Clearly she didn’t think himself or their parents would be home before she went to bed, because all that she was wearing was a pair of white cotton panties and a white Winnie the Pooh t-shirt that was a size too small. It was what she usually changed into when she went to bed, but she never strolled around the house like it. He’d seen her in bathing suits and that had been as sexy as hell, only it was infinitely more erotic to see her sitting there in what she wore to bed, unaware that his eyes were roaming over every square inch of her body.

It was the cotton panties that got him. Some guys found lingerie sexy, yet Frank salivated over the simple white cotton panties that lay on display in front of him, half because of the body they were attached to and half because for some reason he found them so damned hot. From his vantage point he could see that they were pulled taught over the lips of her pussy, only the distance he was viewing the spectacle from didn’t accommodate for fine details. 

Her hair had been untucked from its pony-tail and was splayed out around her shoulders in a golden arc, her breasts were obviously unhindered and they pushed invitingly against the tight, thin fabric of her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt. Her legs were spread slightly, in a lazy and nonchalant fashion. His cock was instantly hard, with the view that he was privy to, how could it not be?

Monica’s eyes weren’t even focused on the television, they were aimed at the floor and she appeared to be deep in thought. 

Frank knew that right then and there his decision had been made. To hell with the consequences, he didn’t care what people would do if they found out, she was the most important person in his life and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any other girl. Because people were too narrow minded and set into ideals that were archaic, they weren’t allowed to share their love the way they wanted. That was bullshit. 

Taking a deep breath he moved slowly into the room, making it half way before she was aware of his presence. Her eyes rose to meet his and they went as wide as saucers. A brief, unsure smile flickered across her lips and a cute little frown flashed over her face; even when Monica was angry or unhappy her allure didn’t waver. 

As he sat down on the middle cushion next to her she sat up straight, tucked her hair back behind her ears and smoothed out her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt, causing his eyes to linger over her breasts as she did so. When he looked up at her face again, even in the poor light, he noticed that a maroon blush was spreading across her cheeks. 

Amazingly he blushed too; usually he was extremely confident around women yet with Monica all the rules seemed to have changed. He didn’t know how to act, or how she’d respond, which made him feel as if he was an inexperienced kid. 

“You ran out of the house awfully fast,” she said cautiously, breaking the silence. 

Looking down at her hands in her lap, she spoke again, so softly he could barely hear her. “Are you…are you ashamed of what we did?”

“No,” he replied gently. “No, I could never be ashamed of that.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering and a look of relief washing over her face. She smiled at him then shifted her body, leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, hugging tightly, her chin resting in the crook of his shoulder and her mouth pressed up against his left ear. 

He was still hard – painfully hard – and the sensation of her soft breasts pushed tight against his chest caused him to tremble. If any doubt remained in his mind his lust for his sister’s warm body clouded it instantly. He returned her hug with an intensity that equalled her own and he stroked her back gently. The thin cotton t-shirt hugged the contours of her body perfectly, smoothly, as if it was a second skin. 

“I was so afraid you were disgusted with what we did,” she whispered, her lips tickling his ear.

Frank’s hands slid up her back and pushed gently at her shoulders, moving her body slightly away from his so that he could look into her eyes. His vision suddenly blurred as he looked at her, she was utterly gorgeous. Her expressive green eyes were searching his and silently pressing for an answer, and he guessed that he owed her one. 

“I…I guess I got scared,” he sighed. “And confused, incredibly confused, but no, not disgusted, Mon, nothing about you could ever disgust me.”

She smiled warmly and brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes.

“You don’t think I’m scared?” she asked incredulously “You don’t think I’m confused about us? You’re not the only one Franky, just please promise me that if you get scared or confused again you’ll talk about it with me, okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, taking her into his arms again.

“Just promise.”

“I promise,” he whispered, hugging her fiercely.

With her lips quivering slightly she pressed them against his and started to kiss him passionately, their arms both tightly wrapped around one another, tongues caressing, their warm bodies rubbing together and low murmurs escaping their lips as they made out. As he slid his hands through her hair their kiss became even steamier, more electrified, a new urgency seemed to take hold as they lost themselves in each other’s arms. A moan passed into his mouth and Monica pressed her breasts provocatively against his chest, moving up and down slightly so they rubbed back and forth. 



Monica started to giggle in his arms while their tongues were still sliding, which somehow made her giggle even more. She pulled her mouth away from his, they were both out of breath from their kiss so each time she giggled it hurt her stomach.

He looked at her strangely, her hair was tousled and her eyes were shining with mischief. Her mouth was wet and slack from their kiss, her t-shirt slightly rucked up exposing even more flesh to Frank’s hungry eyes. Getting a hold of himself, he let his arms drift from her back to her sides, where they touched bare flesh. 




It Started with a Kiss Ch. 01



“What’s so funny?”

It took her a little while but she eventually got herself under control.

“Well,” she said teasingly, still rubbing her body against his, “I was just thinking about you, Mr. Confidence, a stud with the girls at Grammacy, yet being scared of little ol’ me.”

He laughed softly. “You found that funny did you?”

“Uh huh, it tickled my fancy.”

Their lips touched again softly, gently, after a few moments he broke the kiss and she looked questioningly at him. 

“It tickled your fancy?” he asked, his face breaking into a broad grin. Monica had always been a ticklish girl and he’d given her hell when they’d been younger. But as they became adolescents he’d begun to have strange feelings towards his slightly younger sibling, and even something as innocent as tickling her caused him to have thoughts that made him feel guilty, so he’d stopped doing it.

“Oh no,” she whispered, realising his intent.

With feline grace she suddenly flung herself away from the couch, her agility and speed taking him slightly by surprise. He had greater reaction time however, he owed this to his rigorous practice in playing video games and soccer, so milliseconds after her feet touched the carpet his did too. Before she made it half way across the lounge room he closed in on her like a wily fox chasing a hopping rabbit. Reaching out with his well toned forearms he wrapped his arms around her bare stomach, jerking her from her feet and into the air. She squealed playfully, and as her body came to rest against his he couldn’t hide the fact that what was pressed tightly between her ass cheeks was his erection. Much to his surprise and subsequent enjoyment, she began to squirm against him, causing his cock to rub in and out of the valley between her cheeks.

Keeping his promise, his fingers danced across her belly and then he dug them in gently, which caused her to buck and squeal even more. She covered his hands with hers but seemed to encourage him more than stop him, urging him to make her involuntarily jerk her body against his faster and harder. Giggling and laughing, she kept grinding her ass against him, teasing his cock with her haphazard bumps and grinds. 

Frank couldn’t control her now, she was bucking wildly against him and his cock was getting ready to drill a hole out of his shorts and through her panties. Cocks always seem to know when pussy is close by, it could smell hers and it wanted to taste it. 

Moaning, he relinquished his hold on her, stopped tickling, and yet she continued to rub against him, sliding provocatively up and down against his cock, teasing it, toying with it. His mind screamed for her to stop, to back off, things were rapidly spinning out of control and he should be the one to stop things, slow them down, but then she turned around and he saw the look in her eyes. His cock knew that look and if it had lips, it would be licking them with anticipation. 

A thin gap separated them, it was merely centimetres and he knew that the right thing to do at this point would be to widen the gap, extend it so that they could both take a moment to gather their senses and assess the situation. But the situation was this: he wanted her like no other girl he’d ever had, or dreamed of having. The girl in front of him didn’t even seem like his sister, she’d always been demure, shy and adverse to everything concerning sex. Yet here she was, out of breath and a light in her eyes that said otherwise.

“Monica…” 

Flashing him a tantalising smile, she placed her index finger against his lips. It was a sexy, keep-your-mouth-shut smirk that melted his heart and, if it were at all possible, hardened his dick even more. 

She lowered her hand, clasped it around his and began to walk from the room. He had no choice but to follow and allow her to pull him along. Trailing slightly behind, he was treated to the view of her curvaceous ass as it swished back and forth. In all the excitement and rubbing her panties had ridden up between her cheeks and were buried into the crevice. He couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of the wedge as she dragged him – although quite willingly – to her bedroom and shut the door. 

She flicked the light switch on and he grabbed her shoulders, turned her around and was about to kiss her when he saw that her demeanour had changed. She didn’t look like she had out in the lounge room, out there she’d looked confident and in control, as if she knew what she was doing. Now her eyes were wide and unsure, as if she realised that things were progressing at the speed of a bullet and she’d let them, she’d actually caused this progression to occur. When she’d unashamedly rubbed herself against him she’d been acting on impulse and instinct, now her brain had finally kicked in and her sexual autopilot had been disengaged. 

His hands had been barely moments away from sliding down her shoulders and caressing the beautiful globes that stared out at him, those twin mounds that were hidden beneath Winnie the Pooh. Now, as he dropped his gaze to look at her t-shirt, the laughing bear with the honey pot in his hands seemed to be laughing at him, at his plight. Winnie was holding the honey pot tightly against his chest and swatting away a flock of bees. Frank grinned at the irony. Monica was Winnie and had a honey pot of her own, while Frank was the flock of bees – desperately attempting to get at something she may not want to share with him yet. He kept his hands on her shoulders and allowed his gaze to drift back up to her face, she flashed him a flirty smile that she probably thought was hiding her worry, but her eyes told him the truth.

Frank screamed inwardly. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! She was inexperienced and a virgin, so what the hell did he expect? They’d gotten carried away and she took it a little further than she was willing to go. His lips tightened as he looked at her, she was attempting to fake an encouraging smile. She would let him continue if he wanted to – she wouldn’t prevent him from placing his hands on her body, from guiding her over to her bed and removing what little clothes she was wearing. She wouldn’t stop him as he lowered himself onto her and made love to her. In his heart he knew that she wouldn’t, he could see that, but he believed himself to be a genuinely nice guy and he loved her. He loved her and he wouldn’t do anything to harm her, even if it meant that his balls would be blue for a week. 

He slid his hand up her neck and caressed her face lovingly, stroking the gentle curve of her cheek with such affection that his heart began to pound in his chest. Any guy in his position would know how hard it would be to do what he was doing. With the sensation of her ass rubbing against his cock still so fresh in his memory, it was difficult. 

“It’s okay Monica, we don’t have to do anything,” he said finally.

Obviously she had figured that her act was much better than it had been, she started to tremble and her eyes welled up with tears.

“Oh God,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry.”

She moved over to the bed and sat down. Wiping at the tears spilling over her cheeks, she bent down to her tissue box and plucked a singular sheet from it.

As he sat down he realised it’d been that afternoon when he’d kissed her in this very room, it felt as if a lifetime had occurred since then and now, yet it was a mere couple of hours. He nodded to himself, yes, things had accelerated way too quickly and he should have had the foresight to stop before it had gotten out of hand.

Frank slipped an arm around her again, déjà vu sluicing through him as he recalled the earlier incident. She blew her nose with the tissue and dropped it into the waste paper basket, then her hands fell into her lap and she stared at them.

“Are you angry?”

“No, I’m not angry Mon, just…extremely horny.”

Monica laughed softly and looked up. Even with her eyes puffy and red from crying, she looked cute and delectable. She was still a complete knock-out and he ached for her, he wanted her so badly that it took all of his powers of restraint in stopping what he really wanted to do – which was lunge at her, tear her clothes off and play with her body for hours.

“You think you’re horny, gosh, I can’t believe the way I acted. You must think I’m a real slut or something.”

Still holding her with his left arm, he slipped his hand down onto her warm thigh and began to caress her in soft, gentle circles. It seemed to calm the trembling and sooth her. 

“You’re not a slut, you’re just confused, that’s all. And had we…done anything tonight, I wouldn’t consider you a slut. I think that saving yourself until your age is a testament to your non-sluttishness.”

“Really? You really believe that?”

“Yeah Mon, I really do.”

The hand on her thigh continued to stroke her smooth skin and he knew that he should stop, but the feeling of her warm supple flesh was invigorating. A small part of him was still hopeful of taking things to another level tonight, he was an optimist through and through, so he couldn’t help but be one about this, too.

She looked away from him and stared at the wall, apparently digesting what he’d said to her, playing with it over in her mind and examining it. He looked down at his erection, he’d been hard for quite a while now without being properly touched and it was beginning to get a little painful. No sex for you tonight little buddy, as a matter of fact, I think you and my hand have a date in my room in a few minutes.

Frank gave her thigh a reassuring pat, slipped his hand from it and was about to retrieve his arm from her waist when she turned back to him, reached out and placed a hand on his chest. She still looked a little worried but there was also another element in that look too, something that told him the night may still be young.

She tentatively leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth, sliding her tongue in between his lips and sucking gently on his. For a moment he was stunned by the turn of events. Clearly the only reason she’d gotten upset was because of the speed at which things had progressed, though not because of how things had progressed – she must’ve been terrified that he’d lose respect in her because of how forward she’d been with him. 

Monica’s kiss changed from passionate to primitive, her tongue and lips attacking his with a lust-driven need that he was readily awaiting to quench. Her arms suddenly returned to his back and she clutched at him tightly, as if grim death was staring her in the face and he was her saviour. Little cries of delight escaped her lips, her body was writhing against his like a hooked fish and he could feel her nipples stiffening through her t-shirt. 

It was the sexiest, hottest and most intoxicating kiss he’d ever received. 

Slipping his hands through her honey-blond hair, he returned her kiss with equal fervour, closing his eyes and savouring the sensation as her tongue wrapped around his. It was clearly evident that they were both so horny that they were spiralling out of control; their minds had seemingly taken a leave of absence and left them at the mercy of their hearts and genitals.

Frank desperately wanted to touch her, to feel her breasts cupped against his palms, to slide his hand into her panties and play with the treasures that they contained…to tear her clothes from her body and make love to her. Although he urgently wanted to do these things to her he resisted the temptation; she held the reigns and it was her call to make.

Monica broke the kiss and made wet kisses all the way down the side of his face to his neck, then slid her tongue out across the skin to his ear, which she sucked wetly and softly on, lightly nipping at it with her teeth. 

“You have such a hot body,” she said, removing her lips from his ear and returning her leaf-green eyes to his. “Look at you, you’re gorgeous. How can a girl live with you for eighteen years and not find you attractive, to not want to see what’s been growing down there.”

As if to emphasise her point, her fingers traced parallel paths down his chest and across his flat stomach. Her right hand slipped into his shorts and ran through the sparse curls of hair that rested above his shaft, only when her fingers happened upon his stiff length of flesh they halted and stroked the curls of hair instead. His cock strained, her hand was so fucking close to the base of it that she almost caused him to cum right then. Somehow he held it in.

“Would it be slutty of me to touch it?” she whispered, flicking her tongue against his lips.

“Ugh,” was all he could respond.

“Was that a yes or a no?” she asked, teasing him, tormenting him.

“…no,” he managed to croak out.

Her hand slid down an inch further and pressed gingerly against his erection. It rubbed and squeezed him, finally giving him the relief that he’d been yearning for all evening. A look of frank fascination washed over her face as she played with her first cock. All five fingers curled around him and began to jack him off, causing him to groan loudly. 

“It’s so hard,” she mused. “Of course I’ve seen pictures and movies, but I never thought that it would be this hard.”

“You watch porn?”

Monica’s mouth curled into a kinky smile. “I have the internet in my bedroom, of course I watch porn.”

It surprised him but it probably shouldn’t have. Human beings like to watch others having sex, it was that simple. The more Frank learnt about Monica the more he wondered what else he didn’t know about the inner-workings of her sexual appetites. She had seemed so pure, so innocent, and he loved it very much that his preconceived notions were being proven false. 

Her soft, warm hand continued to stroke his cock slowly and it was the perfect prescription for satisfying an inflated libido. One thing he kept forgetting was that she was a virgin and that all of this was new to her, it was an easy thing to do considering the fact she seemed so self-confident, so eager to touch him and be touched.

Still pressing her hand firmly against him, she stopped kissing him lightly and slid her tongue all the way into his mouth, both of them sighing heavily as they shamelessly made out. Emboldened due to the fact that her hand was stuffed inside his shorts, he finally pressed his palms against her breasts and squeezed them. Her nipples hardened as he played with the soft mounds of flesh, and as he continued to stroke and play with them she gasped into his mouth.

“You’ve got a great set of tits,” he moaned around her tongue. 

She began to laugh into his mouth and her grip on his cock tightened. “Thanks, I happen to think that your dick feels pretty good, too.”

“Then we’re evens.”

“I guess so,” she replied.

They broke the kiss and Monica pulled her face slightly away from his, examining his eyes as he stared deeply into the green pools of hers. While she caught her breath she smiled a coy, incredibly innocent looking smile.

“What if I suck it?” she asked. “Would it be a slutty thing for me to do, to suck your cock?”

He shook his head numbly as she rose from the bed and dropped to her knees in front of him. It was extremely rare for Monica to curse, and to hear her talk like this was an added turn on.

She hooked her fingers around the elastic waist of his shorts and pulled them down slowly, the curiosity in her face evident. When his erection popped out he gave a sigh of relief and had to restrain himself from grabbing it and stroking himself into an orgasm. He was no porn star, most guys have an obsession about the size of their dicks but he didn’t particularly care that his was a fairly average (and yes, he had measured it, all guys measure their dicks) six and a half inches. It may have been naïve of him, but he truly believed that it wasn’t so much the size as what you did with it that counted.

As he slid his t-shirt up and over his head she slipped his shorts completely off. Since he was a fairly physical guy he had a nice flat stomach which had some definition, although he was far from being the six-pack material. His arms were slightly muscular and so were his legs, while he was also born with the uncanny luck of having next to no hair on his chest, arms, legs and back. 

Monica gazed over his body for a long moment and he detected a strong sense of approval in her linger eyes. It appeared that she liked what she saw, which allowed him to breathe a sigh of relief due to the fact that he adored how she looked – the proof of that was swinging from side to side in front of her face.

Most girls found him attractive, it wasn’t conceit, it was simply acknowledging the fact that he was graced with features that women were generally attracted to. The physical feature he’d heard the opposite sex marvel over mostly was probably his eyes. They were a rich brown, deeply filled with intelligence and sensitivity. Expressive where most were blank, warm where some were icy cold, he had to admit that they were the most striking feature he had been blessed with. 

Parting his legs as she moved forwards on her knees, he watched her gaze intently at his cock as she slipped her right hand around it and began to slowly glide her hand up and down. Her pink tongue snaked out and licked her lips absently, wetting them, and he almost blew his load all over her cute face. She slid her hand to the base as she leaned her head forward and kissed the tip of his penis, it was a long wet kiss that left him shuddering and gasping. Monica smiled up at him as he placed one of his hands on the back of her head, urging her to place her mouth up to his cock again. 

“Feel good, huh?” she asked, returning to jacking him off again.

“Oh Monica, you have no idea.”

The tip of her tongue slid out over her lips suggestively, slowly licking them in what had to be the most blatantly sexual come-on he’d ever witnessed. Monica simply oozed sex from every pore, be it the look in her eyes, the firm stroking of her hand, the gentle sway of her breasts or her hot little mouth that was only inches away from his cock. It was so close that he could actually feel her warm breath, and it – as well as everything else about her – was attributing to what had to be the hottest sexual encounter he’d ever shared with a girl. 

“I sure hope I don’t botch this,” she said, scrutinising his cock with a slight frown.

“Trust me, you put your mouth anywhere near it and I’ll be in absolute heaven.”

“What’re you saying, guys are easy to please?”

“Well…yeah, we are. I am, at least. If you lick and suck at it a bit, I’m sure that you’ll get results.”

What a strange world. Yesterday he was giving pointers to Monica on how to solve a difficult mathematics equation, today he was instructing her on the simple art of the blowjob. 

Lying back and propping himself up on his arms, he watched Monica ease her tongue out of her mouth and tentatively lick the head of his cock. The hand stroking him lowered all the way to the base to hold it still, while she slipped her left hand along his inner thigh and began to caress him. 

For starters, she moved her tongue up and down the smooth skin, bathing his entire cock in a thick coating of saliva that began to dribble down towards her hand. She was teasing him, giving his cock little kisses and soft licks when she knew that what he needed was for her to suck it deep into her mouth.

The only sounds that began to fill the bedroom were his loud, anguished moans, Monica’s soft sighs and the wet, sticky sound of her tongue lapping at his shaft. Periodically her eyes would drift from the task at hand and meet his, each time her mouth would widen into a grin as she watched him enjoy her rather wet and delightful tongue.

“I’m going to suck it now, I’m going to suck it until you cum in my mouth,” she said, giving the tip of his cock one final flick of the tongue before slipping her warm, moist lips over it.




It Started with a Kiss Ch. 01



“Oh thank God,” he groaned, causing her to giggle with her mouth full.

The vibrations of her giggles sent a thousand tremors quaking through his body, while his cock twitched and jerked as more and more of it eased past her teeth and deeper into her mouth. Her lips tightened around his flesh and her mouth began to slide up and down, sucking in half his length before going up for air and then plunging her silken lips back down again. Juicy sucking noises began to grow as loud as his delighted cries, and when she flicked her tongue against the side of his cock while half of it was stuffed into her mouth, it took him over the edge.

“Oh, Mon!” he gasped. The cum began to brew in his balls and his entire body tensed with the imminence of his long-awaited orgasm. 

Sensing his oncoming ejaculation, Monica wrapped her lips around his cock even tighter and began sucking for all she was worth. Loud slurping sounds escaped her mouth and vibrated along the smooth skin she was sucking, sending even more tremors through his shaking body. 

“Ooh, shit,” he yelled. His cock began to throb and spurt, shooting sticky strings of cum into his sister’s hot little mouth as she kept sucking and gobbling, never letting up. The cum erupted copiously from him, he could feel her throat muscles contract after each spurt and due to the fact her lips had created a tight seal around the middle of his cock, he assumed she was swallowing his sperm when none began to leak from the corners of her mouth.

Even after he’d stopped cumming she continued to lick, suck and kiss the turgid flesh, unwilling to give up her newly acquired prize. It was fascinating to watch as she rubbed the tip of his cock all over her lips, giving his cock her complete and undivided attention. After a few minutes – yet seemed like hours – she gave his cock one last big suck, making sure that she’d gotten all the cum that he was willing to share with her. Then she pulled her mouth away and licked her lips, a pinkish hue rising in her cheeks.

“Whoa,” she said, panting. “That tasted really, really yummy, Frank. Mmm, did it ever.”

She was still kneeling between his legs, one hand wrapped around his cock, jacking it, while she brought the other to the loose strands of blond hair in her eyes and tucked them behind her ears. She rose and crawled onto the bed, straddled his hips and began to grind her panty-clad pussy against his still-erect cock. 

“Was I any good?” she asked, her voice frivolous but her eyes giving away her insecurity. 

“It was fantastic, Mon,” he sighed, positively glowing in the aftermath of her lovely blowjob. “Guys don’t fake their orgasms, not like those-who-shan’t-be-named.

She grinned down at him. “Hey, I can proudly say that I’ve never faked an orgasm in my life.”

“That’s a pretty bold statement considering you’ve only ever had them when you’ve played with yourself, and never actually had a guy try to give you one.”

“I guess you’re going to have to rectify that situation, aren’t you?”

He nodded and gazed at her body. Winnie the Pooh was still staring at him and clutching the honey pot to his chest, swatting those pesky bees away from the rim. Perhaps he wasn’t the bees after all, maybe he was Winnie and he now filled the position of having to swat away other guys that would be trying to get into Monica’s panties. 

“You’re still hard,” she pouted, rotating her hips with deliberation and hardening him up even more. “I thought they go soft after they go off?”

“They usually do,” he admitted. 

“What? I’m just too sexy for you, am I?” she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. 

How Monica wasn’t aware of how insanely gorgeous she was, Frank would never know. It wasn’t an ‘I’m just saying this for attention’ issue, she truly believed that she wasn’t very good looking and for the life of him he didn’t know why. 

“As a matter of fact that’s exactly why I’m still hard. When I look at you my mouth goes dry, or,” he said with a lopsided smile, “I’m drooling over how beautiful you are. You put Grace Kelly to shame, Monica.”

Frank was fanatical about classical movies. His favourite actor of all time was Jimmy Stewart and his favourite actress was Grace Kelly. There was something about Miss Kelly that Frank adored; she commanded screen presence and she had a rare beauty that couldn’t be found in any present day actresses. Monica was even lovelier than the late Grace Kelly.

Monica blushed and stopped grinding her crotch against his. For the first time since she’d sucked his cock she couldn’t hold his gaze, he’d embarrassed her.

“Frank…could we drop this, I’m having so much fun that I don’t want to get into an argument with you.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Well…let’s talk about that incredible blowjob you just gave me. It’s just a shame I couldn’t hold on longer, Jesus, I went off like fireworks.”

She lowered her face to his and kissed him lightly on the lips, a peck, then she lifted her head up a few inches so she could look into his eyes. “It lasted long enough.”

“But–”

“It lasted long enough,” she repeated. This time her voice had a slight edge to it, it was that edge he’d grown accustomed to hearing in women’s voices over the years. It meant shut up. 

“Anyway, it seems as if there’s plenty of go-juice left in it for a couple more rounds,” she said, and to emphasise, she bounced up and down on his rigid pole a few times.

“Not if you keep doing that,” he groaned.

She laughed and stopped bouncing, sensing that there was some truth to what he was saying. There was plenty of time, nothing had to be rushed. Besides, their parents wouldn’t be home until early in the morning so they had the house to themselves.

They began to kiss again, their tongues twisting together and he had to remind her over and over to stop dry fucking him, but her panties were beginning to dampen and she hadn’t gotten off yet, so she was extremely aroused. 

Frank loved kissing her and he didn’t mind the fact that he could taste his own cum, the residue left over from her terrific blowjob. Some guys wouldn’t do it, they flat out refused to, but he didn’t mind the taste of sperm, his sperm at least. 

“Wait,” he said, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her away from his body. “We’ve got to slow down, Mon. Maybe we should take a break and think through what we’re doing.”

Both her eyes blinked in unison and she stared at him open mouthed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Look, what happens if mum and dad come home right now and see what we’re doing? There’s no hurry, we can take all the time in the world.”

“There’s just one little problem with that scenario.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“You got your cock sucked and I’m being left empty handed with a pussy that’s begging to be touched. I’ve never been eaten before, Frank. I’d kind of like to know what it feels like. Besides, I don’t care what it takes, if I have to tie you up and force you to lick me out then I’ll do just that.”

“Tie me up, huh?”

“Yup, and then I’ll force my pussy onto your mouth, make you lick me out nice and good.”

Hearing his sister talk like this was causing his cock to stiffen substantially, it also didn’t help that Monica was still sliding her scantily-clad pussy back and forth over it with wild abandon. To say he didn’t want to fuck her would be an out and out lie, yet in a way he didn’t. Having sex would change both of their lives forever, it wasn’t something that you rushed straight into without any forethought. 

“You’re something else, you know that. I can’t believe how much you’ve changed since this afternoon.”

“I haven’t changed, I’m still the same girl. The only difference is that you don’t make me self-conscious in the least, being here with you, like this, feels completely natural to me.”

That was the scariest part. It felt as natural as swallowing or breathing, when having sex with your sister should be as far from natural as the sun is from Pluto. 

“So you want me to lick your pussy?”

“And maybe finger it a little, too.”

“Maybe I could accommodate you, I mean, if I have to.”

“Gee,” she laughed, “don’t do me any favours.”

Frank smiled at her and slipped his arm around her middle, sliding his hand down the bare flesh of her back until he came to the elastic band of her panties. 

“Raise your ass a little,” he said. 

In no time at all the contact between his hard cock and her damp panties was broken. A dreamy smile drifted over her face as his hand slipped over the fabric of her panties and down the valley between her ass cheeks. 

“Is this the pussy in question, the one I’m supposed to lick and finger?” he asked, pressing his hand against the damp material that covered her sex. 

“It could be,” she moaned.

Although only minutes beforehand he’d wanted to halt all sexual progress between them, as his fingers danced over the contours of her slit he couldn’t come up with a single reason why. It was hot to the touch and her panties were slightly damp, as if they’d been left out on the clothesline all night and the early morning dew had attached itself to them.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Franky. I want more than your tongue or a finger inside me, there’s something I want in my pussy much, much more.”

“A dildo?”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.”

“On occasions I try,” he said with a smile. As much as he wanted to slide his cock into the pussy he was playing with, in his heart he knew that it wouldn’t happen tonight. It was much too soon to be making a decision as grand as that, so in the mean time he’d fulfil his promise to lick her out. 

“C’mon,” he said, patting her on the ass. “Lets get you laid out on the bed, I’m feeling slightly hungry.”

She grinned at him and climbed from his body, swatting the box of tissues away from the bed as she lay down in the middle of the mattress. Her honey-blond hair was fanned out in an arc over her light blue pillow, a light sheen of sweat covered her brow and her breasts jiggled slightly as she shifted herself into as comfortable a position as she could. 

All he could hear in his head was the loud, dull throbbing of his beating heart. Monica was staring at him with such a dazzling smile that his stomach fluttered and he wasn’t sure if he could go through with it. She trusted him so fully and completely, which was why she could lay there contentedly as he was about to remove her panties. 

“This is going to change everything.”

Monica’s mouth curled into a smile. “You big doofus, everything has already changed. Do you have a poor memory? It was my mouth that sucked the cum out of your cock not ten minutes ago.”

“I know, but…” he waved his hand, trying to emphasise what he wanted to say but failing miserably.

“But?”

“When we’re both naked I’m going to have a hard time restraining myself from going all the way. I love sex, I positively adore it, and it’s going to be damned hard for me to resist you.”

“So don’t,” she teased. “If you want to fuck me, go right ahead. I’m sure not going to complain.”

“You see,” he groaned, “you aren’t helping things, Monica.”

The irony of the role-reversal hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. It was usually he who was confident and in control when it came time for sex. He’d bedded many lovely girls and he’d developed something of a reputation as a ladies man, which was what Kathy, his ex-girlfriend, had always worried herself silly over. 

After gazing at Monica’s exquisite body for a long moment, he took a deep breath and gripped the elastic band of her panties. Her eyes were sparkling and his hands trembled. There was no turning back anymore, it was do or die time.

The white fabric peeled down her thighs with ease and the light blond curls of her pubic mound came into view. Her panties slipped over her ankles and off the ends of her delicate feet, and with an impatient sigh she spread her legs open and gave him a view that many men – and some women – would kill for. 

Although he was somewhat biased considering that she was his sister, he could easily admit that she was the most breathtakingly lovely girl he’d ever laid eyes on. She was his, utterly and completely his. Her tiny feet, her long smooth legs that ran all the way up to the sweetest pussy he’d ever seen, her plentiful breasts and her gorgeous face…

It was difficult to wrestle with the fact that the girl he was falling for was his sister. Although, a simple rationalisation would be this – they were just two homo sapiens that held an electrifying attraction for one another, and all they wanted to do was share and consummate that attraction. Was showing their affection for one another wrong, was finding each other sexy breaking the law in some way? Apparently it was, yet every bone in his body told him that it was as right as the opposite of left. 

Frank balled up Monica’s panties and raised them to his nostrils to inhale her scent. It was a rich aroma that wasn’t entirely unpleasant and, once he was satisfied, he casually threw them on the floor amongst her discarded school uniform.

“What is it about guys sniffing girls’ panties?” she asked, her nose wrinkling slightly.

He shrugged and shot her a hesitant smile. “I guess it’s just one of those guy things.”

“Thanks for clearing that up for me, you’ve given me a real epiphany over here.”

“I really don’t know, I wanted to sniff them so I did. Is that a crime, Miss Cassidy?”

“Nooo,” she said with a grin, “I guess I’d rather you sniff my panties than any other girls’, if that’s what it comes down to.”

“That’s what it comes down to.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to live with you sniffing my panties, won’t I? There are worse things in the world I guess, like having a hot naked guy promise me he’ll eat me out and then take his time in actually getting around to doing it!”

Giving in to her with an apologetic look, he positioned himself snugly between her legs and wrapped his arms loosely around her thighs. His face was only centimetres away from the folds of her opening, yet his eyes were still locked on hers.

“What do you like?” he asked.

She blinked at him and confusion flashed across her face like lightning over water. “Huh?” 

“What I mean is: what turns you on the most when you play with yourself?”

For almost the first time that night her face went completely crimson and he silently cheered himself for cracking her tough shell. If anything, the maroon blush that spread over her cheeks made her appear even lovelier in the soft ambience of the overhead light. 

When Frank pleasured a woman orally he always asked what they liked in that department. He wasn’t ashamed to ask, seeing as how every single woman was different in how she liked to be pleasured. It made perfect sense to learn from the source herself on how she liked things done; it certainly saved a lot of fumbling around down there and not have anything happen for the girl. 

Guys are in a whole different ballpark to women. Women are more complex than men; it takes the right mood and a deft touch to stimulate the female species. Men, on the other hand, pretty much need nothing else than to be caressed in any place on their bodies and it will feel insanely good. To make a man cum is not rocket science. 

“Oh, heh, that…”

“C’mon, don’t go all shy on me now, Mon. What gets you off, what sets your fireworks blasting into the stratosphere?”

“My clit is pretty sensitive,” she said meekly, as if talking about this was borderline taboo. “So whatever you do to me down there will…make me feel pretty damn good.”

“Anything else?” he asked. The scent of her pussy was filling his nostrils and he wanted nothing more than to get started. What excited him more than anything was the fact that it was a virgin pussy – it had never been fingered, licked or fucked, and Frank liked above all things to be at the head of the chow line. 

“If you’re going to finger me use two fingers, one finger doesn’t do anything at all. Oh, and Frank?”

“Yes?”

“Please be gentle with me, don’t be too rough.”

“Mon, I’ll be so gentle you’ll hardly know I’m here.”

“Somehow I kind of doubt that,” she laughed. 

He flashed her a warm smile and the worry evaporated from her face as suddenly as it appeared. The fact that she was prepared to go this far, if not further, touched Frank. How was it that the girl who had been crying earlier over not being able to kiss a guy had come this far? Frank could only guess that he was the only guy she trusted not to take advantage of her, but that was an oxymoron in itself. What guy doesn’t take advantage of a girl in any given situation?

Not caring to analyse that line of thought, he turned his attention to Monica’s pussy and scrutinised it in minute detail. In a word, it was lovely. Soft, wispy blond curls rested above two puffy, cleanly shaven and slightly parted lips. Some light perspiration had accumulated around the pale edges, and the slit in between the lips was a dark pink, while her clit was slightly hardened and poking out.

“How does it stack up?” she asked softly.

“Stack up?” he replied, disoriented as much by her question as the sight of her scrumptious pussy.

“Yeah, how does it stack up against all the other girls you’ve been with? Don’t lie, tell me the truth.”

“It’s got to be…at least in the Top 50,” he said with a grin.

“Hey! I’m trying to be serious here.” 

Frank would’ve almost believed that had she not broken out into one of her dazzling smiles. The way he figured it; life was too short to take everything so seriously, if you don’t joke around once in a while then what’s the point?

“I’m aware of that.”

“So?” she persisted. “Is it an ugly one or a pretty one?”

“Definitely pretty,” he said, then leaned in and gave her slit a nice big lick.

The skin on her thighs suddenly broke out into a million pebbles of gooseflesh, while a small squeak escaped her lips as his tongue made contact with her body.

“Would it make your Top 5 pussies?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.

“Mon, it makes my Top 1 pussy of all time. You really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you?”

“I know I’m…kind of pretty, but I would never consider myself to be gorgeous or anything,” she declared, clearly embarrassed. 

“Well you are. And I feel like such a lucky guy to be with you like this, I don’t want you to think for a second that I’m taking you for granted.”

“And I think I’m such a lucky girl to be with you, the door swings both ways, Frank.”

“Speaking of doors…” And with that, he averted his eyes back to the delicacy between her thighs and without so much as a warning he lapped at her pussy with a few nice, fast strokes of his tongue. 

“Oh Frank!” Monica gasped, throwing her head back into the pillow and wrapping both of her arms tightly around her torso. 

Frank decided to start out slowly, so for a few minutes he ran his tongue around the smooth outer lips and avoided making contact with her clitoris. As her soft sighs of pleasure drifted over him he decided to up the ante, so he pushed his tongue between her lips and slid it as deep into her honey pot as possible. I am Winnie, he thought vaguely. 

“So good,” she sighed to herself, her body trembling as his tongue explored her most private area. 

Having never had a tongue between her legs was probably the main reason she was reacting so swiftly, but even Frank wasn’t prepared when her hips started gyrating so soon after he’d begun eating her. If she was as sensitive as she’d said she was, he was going to make her cum like she’d never done before. 

Generally the human body is warm to the touch, and with over an inch of his tongue buried inside her pussy he could verify that the temperature had risen quite substantially from when his tongue had slid along her skin. Her vagina was hot and soft and tasty, which made it increasingly harder for him to find that what they were doing was in some way sick or disgusting.




It Started with a Kiss Ch. 01



Monica removed her hands from her body and thrust them into Frank’s hair. Her hips were jerking about with each wiggle and flick of his tongue, as if she had ants in a pair of invisible pants. The soft sighs that had been emitting from her lovely throat had transformed into loud cries and, to his ears at least, they sounded sweeter than any harmony that Beethoven had ever constructed.

“Please, please suck my clit, Franky,” Monica shuddered. “Don’t tease me any longer, make me cum.”

He retracted his tongue and lapped at her slick pussy as if it were a drinking fountain. Eyes closed, heart pounding, he zeroed in on her hard nub and began to suck at it like a teat, although instead of obtaining milk he was desperately hoping to give her an orgasm.

A girlish squeal escaped her lips and her legs suddenly scissored around his head – an instinctive reflex to the immense pleasure that just shot through her entire body.

“Oh fuck!” she groaned. With the help of the leverage of her scissored legs, Monica began to raise her ass off the bed and hump her pussy against his face. Each upward thrust was punctuated by an anguished “Oh fuck!” and those two words began to get chanted faster and faster until it was one long “ohfuckohfuckohfuck.”

In mid air, with her ass raised off the bed, Monica finally went over the edge and her hips quaked while her pussy tensed. A long line of expletives flowed forth from her mouth, cried out so loudly that any sailor within earshot – or neighbour walking past their house – would cringe at the sound of the foulmouthed young girl Frank was hungrily eating out. 

If Monica had been as horny as he’d been, he couldn’t blame her for cumming so fast. He liked girls that were extremely verbal when they came, and it seemed that Monica certainly wasn’t ashamed of letting the pleasure wash over her in all its glory. 

Due to his superior strength Frank was able to pry Monica’s legs open and free his head from her clutches. His mouth was still attached to her clit and he continued to suck eagerly at it, alternating between flicking his tongue against it and milking it between his lips. 

“Oh Frank, make me cum again. Please make me cum again.”

He lolled his head to the right and made room for his left hand, sliding his index and middle fingers deep into her tight, wet opening. Two fingers she’d said, so that’s what he was giving her, right up to the knuckles. 

“Ooh yes, finger me, Franky.” 

Monica’s pussy clutched tightly at his fingers as he slid them back and forth. It was so tight in there that he was thoroughly looking forward to when it came time to fill her with something larger, thicker and harder than his fingers. 

She seemed to be enjoying his fingers enough so he finally gave his aching jaw and tongue a rest. Raising his head, he looked up at her and what he saw took his breath away – her honey-blond hair was in absolute disarray and a light sheen of sweat covered her from the top of her breasts, up her neck and over her cheeks and forehead. Each gasp that was uttered from her mouth simultaneously caused her bountiful breasts to jiggle due to her sharp intake of breath; her nipples looked as hard as diamonds. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, quite out of breath.

“I don’t think I could say no convincingly at this point in time,” she moaned softly, squirming like an eel due to the repeated invasion of his fingers. 

He grinned. “Would you like me to make you cum again?”

“More than anything in the world.”

With the image of perfect beauty writhing around on the bed in front of him – as well as having two of his fingers sliding in and out of her vagina – Frank was finding it increasingly difficult to cast away the hundreds of crystal clear fantasies of fucking his sister. His cock was so hard that the odds of leaving the room without having sex with her seemed pretty remote and, at this point, it seemed like a foregone conclusion that it was going to happen sooner rather than later anyhow, so why not tonight? 

“Hurry up, Franky,” Monica moaned, wriggling her hips with impatience. “Make me cum again.”

With two of his fingers still sliding back and forth between the slippery folds of her vagina, Frank lowered his head to it again and began to suck at her as if her pussy was the tastiest dish he’d ever been served. 

Her hands returned to his head and encouraged him to press his mouth tighter against her sex, almost as if she couldn’t trust him to judge for himself when he should remove his lips from her body. 

Before long her hips were bucking and writhing again, thrusting her delicious pussy into his face and coating his face in saliva and some residual pussy juice. Due to the added stimulus of his fingers diving deep inside her, as well as the sensations his lips and tongue were sending through her body, she came faster and louder than the previous time. 

A host of expletives were again brought forth from her delicate throat, making the experience every bit sexier because of how seldom Monica seemed to curse. It was as if Frank had cracked some deep down sexual frustration when he’d slipped his tongue into her mouth earlier that afternoon. That one kiss they’d shared seemed to have opened a chest that held all her inhibitions and a strong wind had blown them all away. Even before her rapid and inexplicable change Frank had found her sexy, but now she was every bit the sexual kitten and it appeared he could make her meow long and loud.

Once she began to coast down from her powerful orgasm, he removed his fingers and mouth from her pussy and collapsed next to her body, his head creating a loud ‘poof’ as it hit her pillow. Monica’s eyes were screwed shut and her chest rose and fell sharply as she tried to catch her breath. As well as being slick with sweat her cheeks had also developed a pinkish hue, causing Frank to smile with the pride of a man who knew he’d just given a girl a tremendously pleasurable orgasm.

“Oh Frank!” Monica finally groaned, a slight tremor still evident in her voice. Her heart seemed to have slowed down and her breasts no longer jiggled erotically. She turned on to her side and gazed adoringly at him, as if he were an angel that had just descended from the heavens. “I had no idea what I was missing out on! Do you mean to tell me that you could’ve been doing that to me all this time?”

“Well…”

“We’re definitely going to make up for lost time here. Starting with…this!”

And then suddenly, amazingly, with the agility of a born gymnast she rolled onto his body and straddled his hips in one fluid move, as if she was using his body as an apparatus. The whole time he’d been eating her pussy his cock had been rock hard, and once he’d stretched out next to her it had remained stiff and completely vertical. 

Monica didn’t immediately impale herself on him though, the little minx began to rub her buttery pussy along the entire length of his shaft, starting at the tip and when she arrived at the base she went in reverse and repeated the process. Golden tendrils of hair cascaded around her face as she leaned forward and braced herself by placing her hands on his chest, instantly locking her arms rigidly into position.

“Mon,” he gasped, ‘what the hell are you doing?”

“Being a little cocktease,” she giggled. 

Jesus Christ, didn’t he know it. Her pussy was warm and juicy, making his cock ache as it dripped and slid effortlessly along his length. It wasn’t just the fact that there was contact between her body and his dick; it was the fact that her vagina was so close to his cock that the slightest move on her behalf would allow him to drive it straight into her moist depths. 

“Please, you’re going to kill me doing that,” Frank pleaded.

“Oh Franky, I dearly want to fuck you but you told me I can’t. So this works fine for me in the mean time.”

In his mind he knew that she was goading him along, yet he was so far gone that he couldn’t care less. When a guy’s cock is this close to pussy, his brain goes as haywire as an aircraft’s instruments while flying over the Bermuda Triangle. Monica’s pussy was Frank’s own little private Devil’s Triangle.

“I was wrong, Mon. C’mon, I’m dying here.”

“Beg me,” was all she said. 

“Huh?”

“Beg me to fuck you and I will. If you don’t, well, we’ll see how long it takes before I can make you cum doing this.”

She flashed him the sexiest smile he’d ever seen and he knew that she meant it. The speed with which her pussy lips were rubbing against him was relatively low – the fact she was so wet also didn’t help things – therefore the friction created between her sex and his wasn’t great. In fact, it was poor. Since she’d already sucked him dry it would take him even longer to go off a second time. He could be sitting there all night with her torturing him the way she was.

“I’ve never begged a girl to fuck me before.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Franky. It’s not difficult, I’m sure there are many, many guys out there begging for sex as we speak.”

It was true that he could grab her by the hips and push his cock up inside her without complaint, but where was the fun in that? The sexual repartee between them was turning him on more and more, it also became apparent to him that it was incurring a likewise reaction with her body. There was also another reason he didn’t use his superior strength to overpower her – he enjoyed having his cock teased. Foreplay was almost as important and as fun as the act of sex itself; Frank was foreplay’s biggest fan. 

“You really want to make me beg?”

“Oh yes, very much so.”

“Mon,” he groaned.

“Beg.”

“Please fuck me,” he finally moaned, unable to take any more teasing.

Before he’d even finished uttering the word ‘fuck’ she sank herself down onto his cock and it shot straight up inside her pussy like a miniature rocket. There was no restrictive hymen like he’d feared there would be, because she pretty much went into a free-fall and drove him as deep into her body as he could possibly go. Had her hymen still been intact his brutal penetration would’ve hurt her severely, so when the smooth folds of her lips touched the base of his cock he breathed a deep sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was to see his sister in pain.

What he did see was her body go taut and a series of tiny shivers race over her skin, causing it to break out in gooseflesh again. Her mouth went slack and her eyes went wide, the hands pressed against his chest suddenly tensing at the invasion of his rigid cock. A series of twitches passed through her pussy as it tried to adjust to the object that had just been inserted, and as constrictive as her pussy was it seemed to tighten with each involuntary jerk and spasm.

The inside of her pussy was warm and slick, it hugged his cock like a hot silk glove and he figured that if he died in her arms right now, with his cock buried deep inside her, it would be as good a death a guy could wish for. 

A tiny sound escaped her throat and she lowered her body until it was flush against his. Her silky smooth skin was heart achingly warm, the hardened tips of her nipples grazed against his skin and a tremor raced up his spine for the umpteenth time. 

Her green eyes lingered over his, a lazy smile touched her lips and her hips continued to shift about as her pussy adjusted itself to the foreign object it was temporarily renting space to. 

“I love how you feel in there,” she whispered, breaking the silence. 

Frank slipped his arms around her and caressed the small of her back, groaning as her hips shifted again in an attempt to get used to what was completely stuck inside her.

“I love how I feel in there, too,” he whispered back.

“You know what? You may be my brother but not one part of anything we’ve done has felt wrong. You’re just a cute guy that’s helping a girl lose her virginity, that’s all.”

“What happened to your hymen?” he asked, her words bringing back his cock’s effortless ascension into her body.

“I broke it a while back when I realised that I wanted my first time with a guy to be painless.”

“What did you use?”

“My God,” she grinned. “You are a curious fellow, aren’t you?”

He shrugged and returned her grin. “I want to know everything about you, and I guess the image of you laying on your back sliding something into your pussy just turns me on.”

“Okay, okay, sheesh, I used a carrot.”

“Did you put it back in the pantry after you used it?”

A light shone in Monica’s eyes and her eyebrows wiggled up and down. “I may have.”

Fuck that was hot. In all probability he’d eaten part of the very carrot that had technically helped her lose her virginity. Monica was definitely a lot kinkier than he’d first imagined her to be, it just goes to show that you never really know a person, even if you’ve lived with them for all your life.

“You know,” she added, “it really fuckin’ hurts when it breaks.”

For some reason this tickled his fancy and he began to laugh. His laughter began to shake both of their bodies and this slight movement caused his cock to grind deeper into her pussy in an explosion of pleasure. 

“I don’t know why you find this funny, I wasn’t kidding, it really did hurt,” she said, a cute little frown furrowing her brow.

“It wasn’t that, I just find it slightly amusing how easily you curse now.”

“Oh, would you like me to stop?”

“No, no, no. I find it incredibly sexy, if anything I’d like you to continue as often as you like.”

“You know, I never knew what a strange guy you are, Frank. Sniffing my panties, finding my cursing sexy…what other bizarre little fetishes are you going to spring on me?”

“I don’t have that many, that I know of at least. What about you, do you have any little fetishes you’d like to share?”

“Well, there is one I have. I kind of like–”

Monica was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Her room was situated right next to the carport, so the meaty growl of the engine drifted through her bedroom window and sent Frank into a panic.

“Frank, no, stay here with me. Please don’t leave me, not now,” she begged, obviously sensing his change in attitude and his next actions.

“Mum and dad just pulled into the driveway! Are you insane? If we get caught our lives are going to be worth the price of dogshit.”

Before he could move she pressed her soft lips against his and thrust her tongue deep into his mouth. It was a sexy, wet kiss, one filled with the danger of being caught and this somehow ignited his lust ten-fold. His arms tightened around her waist and his cock slipped around within her slick pussy, aching to fuck in and out of her in excruciatingly hard thrusts. 

“I want to fuck you,” she cooed into his ear, obviously too horny to care about the fact that they could hear their parents exiting their car. “Don’t go. Stay in my room tonight and we’ll fuck each other all night long.” 

It was the toughest proposition he’d ever had to turn down. Monica was the epitome of his every sexual fantasy rolled into one, and here he was, in a position of being able to have her in every way he wanted, yet not being able to. It was so fucking unfair! 

“We can’t Mon, you know that. We’ll make too much noise.”

She grinned in spite of herself. “I’ll be quiet, I swear.”

“You know that isn’t true. You’ll wake up the entire neighbourhood – not least of all mum and dad – when I make you cum again.”

“You could always smother my face with my pillow, that’ll shut me up,” she offered.

At least she had the good sense to let him gently push her off his body and onto her back, because if she’d kicked up any fuss his parents would’ve been in the room in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.

“When we finally have sex I want it to be sweet and hot, I don’t want to have to be worried about getting caught or making too much noise. Besides,” he said with a grin, “this way we’ll really look forward to when we can have at each other.”

“No kidding,” she sighed. “All I’m going to do tonight is imagine what you’re going to do to me, and vice versa.”

Their parents had come across their tabby cat, Sparkles, and it sounded like they were giving him a nice pat with all the baby talk included.

Frank sprang from the bed and slipped his clothes on faster than Superman could change from Clark Kent to the Man of Steel. When he turned back to Monica he found her spread-legged and fingering herself with two long, delicate fingers. Saliva accumulated in his mouth as she bought her left hand to the top of her pussy and rubbed lazily at her clit.

“If you change your mind Franky, you know where to find me,” she said. If sexy had a name it was Monica, if it had a definition it was laying on the single bed with said sexy girl fingering herself. 

Frank quickly bent down and kissed her hungrily on the mouth. For a moment he became lost in thrusting tongues, wet lips and the soft murmurs of passion. Again, the feeling of how right the situation felt directly contradicted with everything society seemed to deem it as – nasty, disgusting, sick and depraved. Kissing his sister like this, touching her body and having her touch him; it felt so natural that it could never be wrong. 

After he broke the kiss he looked down at her for a long moment. Beautiful green eyes staring expressively into his, sweat sliding down her brow, breasts heaving as her fingers busily masturbated in and out of her vagina, legs open and lewdly displaying everything for him to see. It was a beautiful sight and he desperately wanted to climb back on top of her and finish what they’d started.

“Cootchi, cootchi, coo,” his mother and father said in unison, giving Sparkles the full treatment outside on the back stoop. 

“Just promise me one thing?” she asked.

“Anything you want.”

She raised her left hand from her clit and it honed straight in on his crotch, clamping around his stiff cock. “Promise me that you’ll think only of me when you jerk this off in a few minutes.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Mon.”

“Good, now get out of here before you get caught.”

When he made it half way across the room he stooped over and picked up a single article of clothing, then turned and held it up for her scrutiny.

“Do you mind if I take these with me, you know, to give me some inspiration?”

“Go ahead,” she giggled, “I have plenty more pairs where they came from.”

As Frank walked down the darkened passage and away from the girl of his dreams, he heard the snick of a key entering the lock in the front door. He made it to his room before his parents entered the house and he clicked on the light. 

After removing his clothes he sat down on his bed and lay on his back, easing his hand over his cock in the traditional method and began to stroke up and down. The image of Monica laying on her bed with her fingers sliding deep into her pussy filled his thoughts and, after closing his eyes, he brought Monica’s white cotton panties to his nose and inhaled her scent, making the fantasy he was enacting in his mind that much sweeter. 

It was Thursday tomorrow, a school day, yet Frank believed he would scarcely get any sleep knowing that the girl he wanted was only twenty feet away. Monica was twenty feet away, willing and waiting for his touch, yet for all it was worth she may as well be a million miles away, because he couldn’t be with her…

* * * * *

Hi everyone, I just thought I’d add onto the end of this that if you’ve made it this far please don’t forget to vote. If you have any comments or thoughts on my story, don’t hesitate to send them my way, I’ll appreciate any input anyone is willing to give. I’ve got more of this story coming, so please, stay tuned. 



It Started with a Kiss Ch. 02



A beam of light no thicker than the fine edge of a piece of paper passed through the gap in the curtains and struck Frank's left eyelid. The eye subsequently twitched and the bizarre dream his mind had been manifesting popped like a bubble being penetrated by a pin. He groggily ascended from the sandman's clutches and found that he couldn't recall the dream, only its nature, which had been leaning towards the too-bizarre-to-speak-of category.

Frank shifted around restlessly and yawned. The memory floodgates crashed open and the previous day's activities flooded back to him in an instant, causing him to become overwhelmed by images of Monica in various stages of undress. Had it all been a dream? Or had he and his sister actually done all those wonderful things to each other?

The final remnants of sleep drifted away and all that was left was a wide-eyed disbelief that he and Monica had almost had sex. His penis had been inside her vagina. It had been as deep as it could possibly go and the sensation had left him aching to penetrate her again. 

Their parents had chosen the most inconvenient time to call it a night. Damn them!

That was when he heard a soft snort and a gentle noise that almost sounded like someone snoring. Instinct, as well as common sense, told him he wasn't alone, that someone was in his room, quite possibly in his bed.

When he'd been dating Kathy they'd begun sleeping together on a regular basis. After a few weeks of using his uncouth single bed, Kathy had coyly suggested that he purchase a queen-size bed so that their sexual antics could be undertaken with a greater degree of comfort.

For a few terrible seconds it passed through Frank's hazy mind that Kathy must've snuck into their house and slipped underneath the covers with him. What would Monica say if she found his ex-girlfriend lying in bed with him? How would he be able to explain the inexplicable?

That was the defining moment when Frank knew that he was completely over Kathy, where he worried more about his blooming relationship with Monica than a past love that he still felt the pain from.

Kathy was the past, he now realized. And somehow, with the stars aligned, galaxies in sync and all known dimensions locking into each other at one singular moment – Frank had developed an intense crush on his sister, which seemed reciprocated in kind.

Imagining the worst and not stealing himself for the best, Frank whipped his body around and found himself staring into the back of a girl's head. It wasn't Kathy. For starters Kathy's hair was brown, not blonde, and Kathy had her hair styled into flamboyant shag that was lucky to make it half way down her neck. This blonde's hair was straight and long enough to disappear underneath his Spider-Man blanket. 

Relief washed over him and his heart-rate stabilized when he realized that the snoring girl lying next to him was Monica. Cute, sexy and utterly adorable Monica. Frank felt his lips transform into a warm smile and his chest flutter. Under the cover of darkness she'd stolen into his room just to sleep in his presence. There was something about that which seemed to extend beyond romance, and while it touched Frank deeply it also scared him a little. 

"Mon," he whispered. "You awake?"

The only answer he received was a sudden snort and then the continuation of her light snoring. He shifted closer until his chest molded itself into the natural curve of her back, and with more than a little embarrassment he felt the early stages of an erection springing to life. 

Another quick snort exited her nose when, unable to help himself, he slipped his right arm around her waist and ran his hand over the smooth warm skin of her stomach. His hand caressed her in lazy circles, wishing that he could lower it inside her panties or let it travel higher to explore the miniature mountains protruding from her chest. 

God she smelled good. It wasn't because she was wearing perfume (which she wasn't) or because she'd bought the newest brand of intoxicating deodorant (which she hadn't), it was her natural scent that drifted over him mixed with whatever shampoos and soaps she used whilst showering. Her aroma was overpowering and now that he'd gotten a taste of waking up with it he didn't want to go back to the time when he wasn't awarded this luxury. 

After stroking Monica's firm stomach for a while Frank was beginning to get a little fidgety. His cock was now fully erect and pressing painfully against the thin fabric of her panties, obviously being able to sniff her out with its strong pussy radar. 

He wanted to touch his sister in a way a brother shouldn't. Society told him it was morally unacceptable to squeeze and play with her breasts, but that wouldn't stop him. It couldn't stop him, because touching her felt as natural as any time he'd touched Kathy.

So, without even second-guessing himself, he slid his hand up the inside of her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt and cupped the underside of her springy breasts, taking turns fondling each one so they both felt equally appreciated.

This caused Monica to stir and break the monotonous snoring with a long, soft moan. That moan only caused him to stiffen more, which in turn was greeted by her ass wriggling back against him, grinding his cock into the crevice, panties and all. If Monica had a problem with being groped while she slept, she was certainly having a rather difficult time expressing her disapproval.

"Mmm, you deviant, I can't believe you'd take advantage of your sleeping sister like this," she groaned. The last shackles of sleep must've still had a firm grasp on her, because her voice sounded groggy and slightly weary.

"I could always stop," he whispered.

"No, your hand's there now, so you may as well put it to good use."

Heeding her advice, Frank continued to massage and gently knead the soft mounds of flesh, brushing his fingers over her stiff nipples to give them a dose of stimulation. Each time his thumb and forefinger closed around her nipples he'd pinch lightly, which elicited small cries and gasps from Monica's mouth. 

"Would you mind turning around?" he asked. 

There was no hesitation. Her lithe body rolled on the spot until she'd swung all the way around and now lay on her right side with her face aimed straight at his. The direction she'd rolled meant that he hadn't needed to retract his hand, so it was still stuffed up her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt, stroking those two beautiful globes while he stared deeply into her leaf-green eyes. 

There could be no denying it, mostly what he wanted to do was tear the sheets away and rip her scanty clothes from her semi-naked body. Last night he'd been teased by all the possibilities of what Monica wanted to offer him, and right now he desperately wanted to start from where they'd left off. 

"G'morning," she said with a dreamy smile.

"Hi," he shot back, smiling. "What's a girl like you doing in a bed like this?"

Monica let out an exaggerated yawn, leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was basically a kiss hello; there was no lust or need in it at all. His mouth tasted pretty disgusting, so it was probably for the best that they didn't launch into a full-fisted tongue war.

"Would you like me to leave?" she asked with a pout.

"No, you're here now, so I may as well put you to good use." 

The look on her face was priceless. A kinky smile had replaced her dreamy one and her eyes shone with mischief. She snuggled closer to him until her breasts touched his chest, causing his hand to become trapped between their bodies. "And just how would you plan on doing that?"

"Would you like a brief blurb or a blow by blow description?"

"Blow by blow," she replied seductively, running her tongue out over her lips in a blatant sexual come-on.

Frank removed his hand from her breasts and placed it at the small of her back, touching bare skin because her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt had worked its way up her body. Then he urged her to snuggle closer until her breasts were mashed against his chest and her nose was touching his. They kissed gnome style, rubbing their noses gently back and forth, never once breaking eye contact.

"First," he whispered, 'I'd peel the sheets back and reveal your lovely body. Then, while I was trying not to drool all over you, I'd remove your panties and your t-shirt and then run my hands over every square inch of your bare skin. After touching you, I'd run my tongue over your hot naked flesh, paying particular attention to your breasts and what lies between your legs."

Monica shuddered against him and she closed her eyes. "Go on, keep talking," she urged.

"Then, after licking every millimeter of your body, I'd crawl between your legs and give your pussy the real attention it deserves. I'd suck and lick at it, from time to time even shove my tongue or a couple of fingers inside to really get you going."

Instead of reaching down to touch herself as he turned her on, Monica cocked her leg and lifted her body until the damp fabric of her panties rested on his thigh. The basketball shorts he was wearing were cut short, which meant that he could feel the warm lips of her pussy because her soaked panties were pressed against his bare skin.

She started to rub herself against his thigh and she let out a cute little sigh. They were still gnome kissing and his hand was drifting all over her back, going up under her t-shirt to caress the smooth contours of her soft skin. 

"Would you make me cum?" she whispered, flicking her tongue against his mouth and licking his lips.

"I'd eat you out until you were on the verge of cumming, but would stop before you did."

"Bastard," she groaned. "All men are bastards."

Frank laughed and tried to block out the fact that her sliding pussy was leaving a residue of moisture on his thigh. "I'd make you so horny that you would eventually beg me to fuck you."

"I'm ready to beg right now," she whimpered. 

The reason they were playing this game was because they couldn't act out any need they pined to fulfill. Their parents could be heard making breakfast in the kitchen, and because Monica had a loud set of lungs on her when she had an orgasm, they couldn't jeopardize getting caught by fooling around while they were in the house.

Pouting, Monica opened her eyes and let her cocked leg drop away from his thigh, the sensation of her rubbing pussy missed as soon as it departed. The fact that she had such a powerful undercurrent of sexuality excited Frank to no end, because he'd always thought that Monica was kind of a prude. Preconceived notions always have a habit of being shown to be false ones.

It wasn't his fault, because he was a guy. Men have trouble understanding that women have as high a sex drive as their counterparts, and that the female species probably think about – and want – sex just as much, if not more so, than men. That's why when it comes to sex women hold all the keys that open all the doors. The male populous simply assume that women don't want it as much, hence women control it because guys are too impatient to wait a girl out. 

Still shaking slightly, Monica slipped her left arm around his waist and rested her cheek flush against his. They sat there for a while and simply held each other, cuddling, until she pulled her head away and flashed him a weak smile.

"God Frank, I don't think I could ever want you as badly as I do right now."

"I want you too, Mon," he sighed. "But we can't, not with mom and dad in the house."

"I'll be super quiet. I promise that I won't make any noise at all."

All of a sudden his stiff manhood was being fondled and he let out a gasp of pleasure. Monica, his sweet little sister, was massaging his cock through his basketball shorts and the intense thrill it sent through his body caused his eyes to reflexively screw themselves shut. 

"Oh wow, Franky. You're so stiff and hard...so warm. I know the best prescription for one of these." She continued to stroke and torment his engorged cock. "Do you want to know what the prescription is?"

"No," he groaned.

"Yes you do," she teased. "I'll give you a hint. It starts with p and ends with y, and another word for it rhymes with the word 'hunt.'"

It was more than he could possibly take. Before he lost all control he disentangled himself from Monica's gorgeous body and leapt from the bed. The sheets flew everywhere and her scantily clad body was exposed in all its glory. Her legs were splayed apart and her white cotton panties were pulled taut against the twin folds of her pussy. There was a dark patch of wetness spreading out from the obvious indentation of her slit and for a few crazy moments he wanted to climb between her legs and inhale her rich, sexy smell. 

"C'mon," he said, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her off the mattress. 

"Can you blame a girl for trying?" she asked coyly.

"I sure can't. But Monica, it will be so much better when we're alone and can make as much noise as we like."

"I know. I just want you so damned much though."

There was just one little problem – Frank couldn't keep his hands off her. After all this time fantasizing about her it remained difficult for him to resist the urge to touch her in any way that had thus far been prohibited. Like now, the need to take her in his arms was so overpowering that he couldn't help himself.

They clutched at each other like departing lovers at an airport, unable and unwilling to let the other go. Both of them lowered their chins into the crook of the other's shoulder and their cheeks brushed as their bodies writhed at their standstill.

Blinding sunlight was streaming into the room from behind the closed curtains and it was bathing them in its pleasant glow. Monica's honey-blonde hair shimmered and was streaked with tinges of orange, almost to the point where it looked like flames were licking along the shoulder-length strands. 

"It's all mom and dad's fault, they should never have come home so early last night. I was really getting into it and I positively loved having your cock inside me."

"Did you hear them after they got home?" he asked.

Last night, when Frank had left Monica and snuck back to his room, his parents had just been coming through the front door. After taking care of business (furiously fisting his cock while inhaling Monica's scent from her panties), his parents, Nathan and Jean Cassidy, had assumed they were both asleep and proceeded to fuck the living daylights out of each other. His father must have the stamina of a bull. In just over two hours Frank had counted six orgasms that his father had given his mother, and boy, whilst in the throes of passion they'd both been as loud as wild animals. 

Now here was the interesting part. It was undeniable that he was attracted to Monica – her flowing blonde hair, adorable face, full breasts, slender legs and creamy complexion – but when Frank thought of his mother in any context that approached the boundaries of being sexual in nature, he became well and truly disgusted. The idea sickened him, the very thought of their parents fucking made his skin crawl. This was considerably strange seeing as how he was madly in love with his sister.

"They were pretty loud," she said with a giggle. "I couldn't sleep at all, which is why I eventually snuck in here to sleep with you. Knowing you were here, so close to me, I couldn't help myself."

"Mon..."

"Yes?" 

"I want you. I need you so badly that it hurts."

"I can make it all better," she cooed, then slipped her hand back between his legs and began to massage him again. She pulled her chin out of the crook of his shoulder and stared at him, a lopsided smile flickering across her lips. "I'll suck it, if you want me to. I won't expect anything in return."

The offer was so sweet that it took every ounce of stupidity coursing through his body to decline. Stupidity and romanticism, aren't they the same thing?

"That's hardly fair, Mon. There's no way I could let you satisfy me if I can't return the favor."

Her eyes leapt wide and her smile grew larger. "Are you turning down a blowjob?"

"If you have to be left feeling as horny as hell, then I think it's only fair that I should be too."

Monica gave him a huge sloppy kiss on the cheek and hugged him to her body. He had a beautiful, semi-naked girl in his room who was professing an intense desire to fuck him – or in the very least suck his cock – and he had to send her away empty handed. It made him want to curl up on his bed and cry like a little baby. 

The light emitting diodes on his clock read 7:29am, and Frank realized that he and Monica had to get ready for school. Once they had both made certain the cost was clear, he ushered Monica out the door and watched her swishing ass as she crept down the passageway. Before she entered her room she paused, turned to him and blew him a kiss. Then she disappeared from his line of sight and he closed his door with a sigh. 

It was undoubtedly going to be a very, very long day.

* * * * *

Frank waltzed into the kitchen with a spring in his step and a cocky, life-is-great smile on his face. The fact that his parents were in the middle of making out didn't sway his mood in the slightest, because it instantly brought to mind how wonderful it felt to have Monica in his arms and her tongue in his mouth. 

Jean and Nathan Cassidy had always been liberal with how they displayed their affection for one another. That's not to say that it was all sex – although a lot of the time it was – there was also a vast ocean of romance thrown in for good measure. 

Quite often Nathan would bring home a wide variety freshly picked flowers, a romance movie and a bottle of champagne, simply to celebrate the fact that he was married to a woman who he dearly loved. Sometimes he would pen some soppy poetry and leave it attached to any given wall in the house for Jean to read, often laying his heart on his sleeve in a poorly written limerick or two. 

"Hey kiddo, you're looking very chipper this morning," Jean said, breaking away from her husband.

For a thirty-seven-year-old woman she was remarkably fit, the result of a strenuous sex life and an exercising routine you could set your watch by. In fact, Jean Cassidy could probably pass herself off as a thirty-year-old with ease. Monica had inherited her beautiful honey-blonde hair from her mother, but Jean's flowed even farther down her back until it hovered around the curves of her ass. The generous swells of her breasts hadn't sagged with age and her figure was trim but lush – heads turned when she walked into a crowded room. 

"G'morning mom, dad, well...what's not to be chipper about?"

Jean turned to her husband with her mouth agape and her eyes bulging, playing the drama queen to perfection. "Nathan, it is a school day, isn't it?"

"Yes dear, I'll get the straightjacket while you hold him down."

Nathan Cassidy had clearly passed down his own genetic material to his son. His roughish good looks were enhanced by a boyish charm, both evident in his playful blue eyes and quick, friendly smile. His chocolate-brown hair was graying at the temples but this only added an air of distinction and class, which he already had in spades. 

They both turned to him sporting curious expressions and he suddenly felt his cheeks catch fire. They couldn't possibly know, but it felt as if they suspected that he was hiding something from them.

"School isn't that bad," he argued.

"Okay honey," his mother said, moving in for the kill with the good ol' hand thermometer. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? Nathan, we better call the doctor, Frank's starting to enjoy school. It could be fatal."

"Okay dear, I'll go get the phone while you keep him distracted."

Frank just shook his head and started laughing hard. His parents were the most subdued people you could ever find. They understood that children couldn't be expected to hit the books and study all the time, and that forcing the issue only makes the situation worse. Also, Jean and Nathan Cassidy both had the driest humor, which quite often left people laughing nervously when they weren't sure if they were being sarcastic or not. 




It Started with a Kiss Ch. 02



"What's all the hubbub?" Monica asked, striding into the room with a smirk on her face and a similar gait to Frank's.

When he laid his eyes on her a million pebbles of gooseflesh broke out on his body and he found he couldn't breathe. She'd just gotten out of the shower, so her hair was a light brown and slicked back into a ponytail, which was held in place by a bright pink ribbon. There was a glow of excitement surrounding her face and her eyes sparkled almost to the point where you became hypnotized by them. 

Entranced, Frank salivated as his eyes roamed her uniform-clad body. The white cotton of her shirt clung to the swell of her breasts and left almost nothing to the imagination. Her skin was slightly ruddy, care of a stifling shower, and Frank's cock couldn't help but stiffen at the thought of touching that hot flesh. 

"Frank's starting to enjoy school, so we're going to institutionalize him just for precaution," Nathan chimed in. "Jean thinks it could be fatal, but I think I'll wait for the expert opinion of Dr. Nick Riviera."

Both of Frank's parents were out and out nuts when it came to The Simpsons. It was quite possible that they'd watched every single episode over ten times each and still managed to find the material funny, if not hilarious. 

"Oh well, have a blast at school kids, your mother and I are off to the grind."

Their parents owned and operated the local cinema. Being a relatively small town of thirty thousand people, they only needed four screens and managed to run the place without having to employ too many outsiders. One weekend per fortnight Frank and Monica worked for them, pulling eight hour shifts for both Saturday and Sunday. This was their off week, which meant they could spend all weekend exploring their blossoming relationship. 

"Bye."

"Catch ya later."

Before she departed Jean walked up to them and kissed them both on the cheek. "Please eat a healthy breakfast, or if that's too hard for you to do, lie to me and say you did."

Then their parents were out the door, both Frank and Monica looking on with glee as they entered their brand new, aquatic blue sedan. The engine roared to life and the car shot down the driveway like a bullet, the tires squealing as Jean negotiated the vehicle off the cement and onto the tarmac. That's what Frank loved about their parents; they were forty going on fifteen. 

A silence drifted over them as they stood there alone and stared at each other. Much to Frank's surprise they began to move around the kitchen to prepare their respective breakfasts, Monica with her muesli and Frank with his four pieces of jam toast. 

"Would you like some juice?" he asked, grabbing the carton from the refrigerator.

"Yes thanks."

They both sat down across from each other at the table and began to dig into their food, periodically peering at one another with knowing smiles as they played footsies under the table. Shoes weren't allowed to be worn inside, so their feet touched and were only separated by the thin fabric of their socks. 

"What are you planning on doing tonight?" Monica asked.

"Mom and dad are staying late at the cinema, so I thought I might rent a movie."

"Oh," she said softly. 

"Of course, the nature of the film depends entirely on who I'll be watching it with."

"Is that right?"

Frank grinned at her as he finished eating his last slice of toast. "Yup, I was thinking we could snuggle up on the couch, just you and I, alone...think of the possibilities."

"I'm thinking about them alright. It sounds perfect."

"Good, so it's a date?"

They were approaching territory that they'd thus far left unexplored. Were they going to attempt to be boyfriend and girlfriend? He wanted to be with her, which was without a doubt the clearest decision he could ever make – he definitely wanted to be with her.

"Does this mean that we're...a couple?" she asked, looking a little embarrassed.

"Only if you want us to be," he replied.

Frank stood up and removed their dishes from the table, leaving Monica to digest his words as he walked over to the sink and started to rinse them. After he washed them with the soaped up sponge he placed them in the drainer and turned to grab a hand towel, only to find Monica close by, holding one loosely at her side.

"You washed so it's only fair that I dry."

"You sure?" he asked.

"I'm sure."

Frank leaned against the counter and observed Monica as she meticulously wiped their dishes dry. Her brow was crinkled into a cute little frown and she appeared deep in thought as her hands expertly maneuvered the towel over the plates, bowls and silverware.

She turned to him, pouting a little. "Not to sound like a dumb blonde, but this means you're my boyfriend, right?"

"You're not dumb, Mon. It sounds a little strange to say it, doesn't it?"

"Just slightly."

Now bone dry, the breakfast dishes were reported back to their original posts care of Monica's hands. With her back turned to him, Frank moved in behind her and slipped his hands around her waist. She emitted a small gasp as he startled her, which was subsequently followed by a host of giggles as his sliding hands accidentally tickled her. 

"Mmm," she moaned. "So this makes me your girlfriend?"

"Yup, as weird as it sounds to say."

His hands developed a mind of their own and slid underneath her shirt, although they seemed content for the moment to keep caressing her bare stomach. Monica sank back against him and melted into his body like an ice block lying in the sun, her ass pushing against his crotch with delightful results.

The grip Frank had around her waist tightened and it effectively pulled her against his body until it seemed they were stuck together. He let his chin fall into the crook of her shoulder and kissed the hollow of her throat – the quickening pulsation of her heartbeat could be felt throbbing against his lips as they brushed against her carotid vein. 

"The way I see it, we have two choices," he whispered into her ear.

"And they are?"

"One, we go to school and remain horny all day long."

"I really hate that choice. What's the other one?"

Frank's lips made contact with her right cheek and made little kisses all the way along until he arrived at the edge of her mouth. "We play hooky and stay in my room all day, finishing what we started last night."

"There's no contest at all, I vote we go to school."

He laughed and she turned her head until her eyes rested on his, her gaze smoldering. 

"That's just what I was thinking, Mon. It's like you're reading my mind."

Their mouths made a bee-line for each other with their lips parted and tongues at the ready. When they connected they both closed their eyes and began kissing passionately, their tongues wet and sliding together in earnest. Soft sighs and gentle murmurs were shared and their mouths made distinctive wet sounds as their tongues licked and sucked. 

Monica's ass started to slide all over his erection and at this point he was unable to control himself. His hands immediately left her stomach, one sliding north towards her left breast while the other slid south, burrowing its way into her school pants and panties. He cupped her breast through her bra and shirt, while his other hand ventured over her soft blonde curls and his fingers explored her moist opening. She was slick and warm, wet in anticipation of the engorged meat that she could feel digging between her ass cheeks. 

Her tongue retreated from his mouth but her lips continued to graze against his. "Tell me what you're going to do to me when you take me to your room," she begged.

"I think you know."

"Tell me anyway. I want to hear you say the words."

The fact that her pussy was so slippery told Frank one thing and one thing only – she wanted to get fucked. Her body language also suggested this, because she was basically putty in his arms. Smooth, curvy and writing against him with desperation, it seemed obvious that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

"Please tell me," she whimpered.

"I'm going to strip you out of this sexy school uniform and then we'll fuck each other all day long."

"Mmm, that sounds glorious, Franky."

Frank thrust his tongue back inside her mouth and she accepted it openly, flicking and sucking back with her own tongue as she continued to shamelessly rub his stiff cock into the crack of her ass cheeks. 

His hand was still between her legs, tenderly cupping and exploring her slick mound with his dewy fingers. Although when permitted Frank could become rough, it was usually customary for him to touch and feel a girl as gently and with as much care as he could possibly muster. It all depended on their mood. At times a woman wanted to be handled like she was a piece of fragile carnival glass, which was fine by Frank because he loved to tease and toy with the opposite sex. On other occasions, a woman's mood suggested that she wanted to get down to business quickly and forego all forms of patience and lingering.

Monica was currently in the grips of wanting it so badly that her 'Fragile: Handle with Care' sticker had been ripped off to reveal a saucy 'Danger: Girl in Heat' one underneath. 

Still kissing him hungrily, Monica wasted no time in being dainty and shoved her pants and panties down her thighs until they drifted to her ankles. Then, with an anguished moan, she grabbed Frank's hand and jammed two of his fingers all the way up inside her pussy.

"Oh yeah," she cried softly. "That's what I've needed."

"You must be pretty damn horny, look how wet you are," he marveled.

"You don't know the half of it." 

Although he lacked a degree in rocket science, or any other degree for that matter, Frank had a fair idea of what this not-so-subtle gesture required of him. Pleased to be of any assistance in the stimulation of the opposite sex, Frank lowered his left hand from her breast and rested it in her forest of blonde curls, letting the tips of his fingers fall on the hardened nub of her clit. 

"Finger me," she gasped. "Fuck my pussy with your fingers."

He'd just been about to perform this allotted task when the race of an engine filled their ears and a brilliant streak of blue zoomed past the kitchen window, which just so happened to overlook the driveway.

"Fuck! It's mom and dad!" he exclaimed. 

"Goddamnit!" Monica screamed in frustration. 

They quickly broke apart and Monica scrambled to pull her panties and school pants up her long legs. When they were snug and in place she pressed her hands all over the front of her shirt and smoothed out any wrinkles. 

"How do I look?" she asked, wiping at her glistening lips with the back of her hand. 

"Stunning," he answered, struggling to reposition his hard-on so that it was at least semi-discreet.

"Other than that, any tell-tale signs?"

"No, you look fine."

Well, sort of fine. A light sweat had broken out on her brow and there was a faint maroon glow that originated at her cheeks, extended down her elegant neck and disappeared under the collar of her shirt. There was a pained look in her eyes and he swallowed back the lump in his throat. He knew how she felt – teased, intensely horny, pissed off that a long overdue orgasm wasn't within sniffing distance after all. 

Their mother entered the kitchen at a jog and she dashed into the lounge room to pick up her purse. She was in such a hurry that she didn't notice that her two teenagers were in any way different from how she'd left them.

"You two are still here? C'mon, get in the car. I'll give you a lift to school."

Frank sighed and a moment later so did Monica. They smiled weakly at each other and followed their mother, grabbing their knapsacks from their hooks as they walked out the back door. 

The day was beautiful and the air held a fragrance of freshly mowed grass overlaid with an assortment of pollinating trees and shrubs. In the ocean-blue sky there were puffs of wispy clouds that ambled along almost imperceptibly due to the gentle wind. Birds twittered and squawked, insects buzzed, and the sun beat down with an early-morning intensity that hinted at the heat it would deliver come noon.

When they were dropped off at the school gate they halted and leaned against the fence. There was still about five minutes until the bell would sound and they decided to utilize this time to talk. There were people milling around but not within earshot, so they could speak freely and without fear.

"Do you think that mom and dad are conspiring against us?" Frank asked.

"It sure as hell seems that way," she sighed. 

For a few moments they watched as couples walked past holding hands. One guy, Mark Stevens, had his hand on his girl's ass and was laughing gaily as she tried to swat it away. That could never be us, Frank thought sadly. Society restricted them to keeping their relationship private because it was deemed sick and nasty. Was it sick to find his sister beautiful? Was it nasty that he loved her with every fibre of his being? 

The fact he was still insanely hard didn't improve matters and, judging from the expression on Monica's face, she was still grappling with her own gremlins between her legs. Both of her hands were busy massaging her thighs, and to the trained eye you could tell that she wanted nothing more than to stuff her hand inside her pants and play with herself. 

"I want you to do me a favour."

"Anything."

Monica waited until a couple of younger school kids walked past and then smiled at him nervously. "Do you think that you could...resist the temptation of playing with yourself until we have sex?"

It felt as if all the saliva in his mouth had jumped ship, because what she was asking him was nigh on impossible. He'd already been entertaining the thought of asking for a toilet pass during period one so that he could relieve the built-up tension, only now it seemed that best laid plans may be foiled yet again.

"Mon..." he trailed off.

She leaned into him with a conspiratorial smile and placed her mouth to his ear. "The next time you cum I want it to be inside my pussy," she whispered. "Please Franky, do this one little thing for me?"

"On one condition," he swallowed. "You're not allowed play with yourself either."

"Okay, we have a deal."

The soft skin of her palm clasped against his and they pumped their hands twice. It was a simple handshake, and if anyone noticed they wouldn't suspect anything. When they let go her hand caressed and squeezed at his gently. Then it was gone, the last time they would touch until they were in the safe confines of their home. 

The bell suddenly echoed through the school, telling Frank, Monica and their peers that it was time to negotiate their way to their lockers and begin yet another boring day of education. 

Frank had suspected earlier that the day was going to be long, only it was now teetering on the edge of being excruciatingly so.

* * * * *

When Frank finally navigated his way through the crowded corridor he was yet again confronted with Julie Bowman on her knees, with her ass sticking out and her head buried inside her locker. It suddenly occurred to Frank that, after two solid months of pressing his cock into the back of her head, Julie should've learnt by now to wait until he'd retrieved his own belongings first. 

But here she was, on cue, lying in wait for him to come along and complete the daily ritual. Between his legs lay a massive erection and the urge to press his aroused cock into the back of her head was almost irresistible. But things had changed. He was with Monica now, and he didn't think that she would appreciate the continuation of this particular ritual at all. 

Was Pete right? Did Julie have a thing for him? Frank found it difficult to believe, but it made absolutely no sense for her to continue allowing him to do it to her over and over again. 

Pete was standing at his locker scratching his head, looking confused. His best friend was quite the ladies man, although the exact reason why women liked him remained to be an unsolvable mystery. This wasn't to say he was ugly, far from it. Pete had spiky blonde hair that was perpetually gelled, blue eyes that were rich and soulful, and a lean physique that drove girls to the point of frothing at the mouth. 

If one was to view Pete based solely on his looks, minus his personality, it was easy to see why girls flocked to him like ducks to water. What didn't make sense was the fact that he treated them terribly and yet they loved him despite it. That was Pete's one main flaw – his lack of respect for women. 

Pete shot Frank a dirty look when he sidled up to him. "Where the fuck were you last night?" he asked.

On the floor Julie stiffened, her entire body going rigid with the anticipation of what Frank was typically going to do. Only today he didn't do it. With the focused care of a doctor delivering an infant, Frank made sure that his movements never caused his stiff member to connect with any part of Julie's head.

"Oh shit, sorry Pete. I clean forgot about the snooker comp we were going to have."

"Yeah, well, Edison invented the telephone for a reason, Francis."

Frank opened his locker and then turned to Pete, glaring at him. If there was one thing he hated – other than being called the great Frank Cassidy – it was being called Francis. When Pete became pissed off at him over something he invariably called him by his diabolical birth name. 

The second bell rang through the hallway and the musical whapping of locker doors was second only to the tittering crowd. People were dispersing and heading off to class, some of them taking a keen interest in the fact that Julie hadn't shouted at Frank yet. 

Finally, after taking longer than was necessary, Julie rose from her haunches and flashed Frank what appeared to be a cross between a dirty look and a grimace. If her face wasn't perpetually contorted into a bitchy frown, Julie could remove the title of being simply seen as cute and upgrade herself into being a full-blown babe. 

Light brown, shoulder length hair fell around her face, which was highlighted perfectly by her lovely brown eyes. Those twin murky pools conveyed a depth of intelligence and sometimes Frank thought he detected a strong flicker of sadness in them, too. No one was able to get close enough to Julie to understand why she was such an angry young girl, which struck a strong melancholic chord in Frank as she stalked away from him. 

She had no friends, not a single one. What on earth had happened to her to make her crawl into her shell like a frightened turtle? These thoughts must have been simmering away in his unconsciousness, and he was suddenly attacked by a deep regret over being such an asshole towards her. 

"What a beautiful ass," Pete sighed, gazing at Julie's tight, jiggling behind. 

The hall was almost deserted and Frank reached into his locker to grab the necessary books for the first two periods. Thoughts of Monica drifted through his mind and he couldn't help but curse the gods for making his mother forget to grab her purse this morning. 

"Pete, were you serious last night?"

"About what?"

"Julie."

"That she's in love with you? Yeah, totally serious. Have you ever seen the way she looks at you?"

They both closed their lockers and made their way down the empty corridor. For the first period they both had Woody's physics class. Woody wasn't their teacher's real name, which was actually Martin Freeman. He'd been given the nickname 'Woody' simply because at any given time of the day there would be an obscenely large bulge in the crotch of his trousers. 

"She looks at me as if she wants to tear my face off."

"No, not when you're looking at her. Have you ever seen her look at you when she doesn't know you're looking back?"

"No," he said slowly. "How does she look at me?"




It Started with a Kiss Ch. 02



"Like she's in love with you."

"Clear as always, Pete. That's what I love about you. You're always clarifying things for me."

"Asshole," Pete muttered under his breath.

"Prick," Frank retorted.

As they entered the science wing they looked at each other and cracked up with laughter. If a pal has a go at you and you can't let it slide off your back, then you have absolutely no sense of humor and take life way too seriously.

All day long Frank daydreamed about Monica, and all day long he ached for her touch. From time to time Julie Bowman would walk into his mind and relieve Monica of her command. It seemed that the more he thought about her, the more attractive Julie became. Sure, she was an embittered young girl with a bee in her bonnet, but she also had a mouthwatering body and was as smart as a whip. 

At each interchange, when all the students were required to retrieve other books for separate classes, there was Julie Bowman, on her knees below Frank's locker in the position he was so used to finding her in. Each time he would consciously work around her body and each time she would rise with a confused look on her face. 

"I don't get it," Pete said. "Why have you suddenly stopped giving that bitch what she deserves?"

The final bell of the day had been rung and the hallway was desolate. Litter lined the linoleum floor and if you listened closely you could hear the soft rattle and buzz from the air conditioner. Pete's words were in light of the fact that Julie had yet again been spared the sensation of his crotch being pressed against her.

"Maybe she isn't such a bitch after all," Frank said.

"Frank...you're turning weird on me. Anyway, are you up for snooker tonight or do you have more important things to do?"

An image of Monica suddenly shimmered behind his eyes and he hardened instantly. They were settling down on the couch to watch a movie and all she was wearing was her flimsy cotton panties and her small Winnie the Pooh t-shirt. This daydream version of Monica cocked her head and told him that she'd be upset if he chose Pete over her, and he really couldn't blame her, either.

"Sorry Pete, I already promised Monica I'd watch a movie with her."

"O-kay, you've certainly got an interesting night ahead of you. We're still on for Saturday, right?"

Saturday was the day of the county fair, which arrived at their quaint little town once a year. It was a long standing tradition for Frank, Pete and the guys – who included Smurf (nicknamed this because of his bizarre fixation with the color blue), Chris Jacobs, Danny Bale and a few other stragglers that changed from year to year – to make a day of the county fair through the haze of an alcohol induced state. Rollercoasters can be ripsnorters if you're under the influence. Last year Smurf sprayed the front of his shirt with vomit, having sampled a little bit too much bourbon before venturing on King Kong's Krazy Rollerkoaster. 

"I'll be there," Frank replied absently. All he wanted to do was get away from Pete and get home to Monica. 

"Okay then, good. I guess I'll catch you tomorrow," Pete said, then turned and walked down the corridor.

"Yeah, see you, Pete," he replied.

Frank began walking the opposite way and he couldn't help but feel that things had changed somewhat. Maybe Pete sensed something awry but couldn't touch on what it was. That didn't matter now, nothing did except his sister. His primary focus was getting home so he could wrap his arms around Monica and hold on to her as tight as he possibly could. 

His feet carried him from the main corridor and out into the quadrangle. A couple were sitting on a wooden bench and were in the middle of a French kiss. It looked sweet and tender, causing a twinge of jealousy to shoot through him as it again became all-too-evident that Monica and him would never have a relationship as normal as that one. 

The hot afternoon sun beat down on his back and the kissing couple became ghosts of his past, nothing but wispy fragments of memory that were retreating into the darkened recesses of his mind. 

Frank couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so lonely. His shoulders stooped somewhat as he made his journey home, for once wishing that there was someone by his side. 

Having a secret that you had to keep hidden from everyone – including your best friend – presented you with a barrier that was erected instantly, separating you from everyone except another person who shared the secret. Things had changed, and it was quite possible that they would never return to normal again.

* * * * *

The difference in air temperature slammed into Frank like a runaway mine cart as he stepped over the threshold and entered his sanctuary from the world. He closed the door quietly after he entered the cool house, making sure that he thumbed the lock so that no prying person could crash their party.

Because the door had been unlocked he could safely assume Monica was home. After he placed his knapsack on its hook he realized that Monica's was there too, which indicated that she was certainly somewhere inside the house.

Sweat dripped from his brow and the back of his hair was plastered to the nape of his neck, care of the intense rays he'd had to endure as he walked home on his lonesome. The soft fabric of his shirt clung to the small of his back, and when he checked, his fingers came away bathed in salty moisture. 

Frank stole silently through the house, creeping stealthily down the hallway until he arrived at the point where the narrow passage met the kitchen. Feeling like a member of an elite Special Forces unit, Frank snuck his head around the corner of the door jamb and was greeted with a pleasant view of his sister. 

She was standing at the bench, her face contorted into a pretty pout as she attempted to knock some ice cubes out of a plastic tray. A couple finally worked their way out and she beamed at the fallen blocks of water.

His cock began to stiffen as he observed Monica performing this mundane task. Her golden mane of hair was still tied back in a loose ponytail and she'd changed out of her uniform into a pink tank top and a pair of cut-off Levi jeans. The jeans were cut high and when Monica moved out from behind the bench to return the ice cube tray to the freezer, Frank was presented with a pair of creamy, well-toned legs that never seemed to end.

"Hey good lookin'," he said as he walked into the kitchen.

"Hey yourself."

She grabbed the cubes from the bench top and plopped them into a glass of Diet Coke. As Frank came closer he could hear the soda fizzle and he could see little bubbles shooting away from the rim of the glass. 

Wasting no time, not even allowing Monica the chance to sample her cool drink, Frank strode over to her and embraced her with a bear hug. Seconds later his lips found hers and she giggled as his momentum carried her backwards until her backside bumped softly against the edge of the sink. 

Monica's hands laced around his sweaty neck and her giggles subsided, replaced by a serious urgency that was illustrated by her no-nonsense attitude when she forced her tongue in between his lips. 

They sucked hungrily at each other's mouths and their bodies writhed together like snakes – the miniature hardened reptile between his legs grinding pleasantly against the crotch of her cut-offs. It was a sexy kiss, made steamier by the fact that Monica was dry humping him with quick, hard jerks of her hips. 

Cries of delight were being swapped with their saliva and both of them were moaning loudly, too horny and too sexed up to be bothered with coming up for air. Eventually they were panting hard and were so out of breath that they had to stop, or else they would pass out from the lack of oxygen. 

Their bodies were still writhing together but they pulled their heads away so they could gaze into one another's eyes. Monica still had her mouth slightly open and her cheeks were puffing each time she had to expel a deep intake of breath. 

"Now that's what I call a greeting," Monica marveled.

"Hard to believe it was only twenty-four hours ago that we kissed for the first time."

"Oh my god, it was really only a day ago? It feels like years."

"I know," he said. "This morning seems like eons ago."

"Mom," Monica growled. "How dare she get in the way of our fun."

Frank leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. "But there's no one to get in the way now, is there?" 

"Does this mean you'll be taking me to your bedroom?" she asked coyly.

"Yup."

Monica mashed her firm breasts even tighter against his chest and brushed her lips against his. "Will you undress me?"

"Definitely."

Her tongue flicked out and licked his lips. "And then will you fuck me?"

"Yes," Frank moaned softly. 

"I've been fantasizing about you all day long," she whispered. 

"What sort of fantasies?" he asked.

"The kind filled with sex. I had daydream after daydream and all I wanted to do was play with myself, imagining that you were the one with your hand between my legs."

All this talk about fantasies and daydreams had caused Monica to become even more worked up, the result being a steady, lustful pant as she furiously dry humped his cock.

"Tell me about your daydreams," he groaned. 

"Well, one such daydream was of you and me on your big bed, little ol' me lying on my back with you pounding your cock deep into my cunt. Another was of this morning, you grabbing me and bending me over the dining room table, fucking my brains out. My panties were sopping wet by the time I got home."

"Mon..."

"Yes, sweetie?"

If Monica was as horny as Frank was then it was no surprise that she could be so brazen. You reach a point where your level of arousal simply won't permit you to become embarrassed and you may do or say things that aren't typical. With Monica, Frank sensed that it wasn't just her intense arousal, but that it was also because she trusted him and felt comfortable sharing this information. 

"Is it possible for you to get any sexier than this?" he asked.

"Hmm, I don't know, but I'm sure you're going to find out."

He clasped his right paw in her left hand and led her towards his bedroom. As they passed the telephone Frank knocked the black handset away from the cradle and kept walking. 

"Good idea," Monica said. "We don't want to be interrupted, not this time."

They entered his bedroom and he slammed the door, sliding the silver bolt across until it fit snuggly into its hole, thus locking the door. Nothing was going to prevent them from consummating their love. God himself couldn't stop them. They were on a mission to screw each other and they both needed it mighty bad.

"Are all the doors locked?" he asked.

Monica nodded at him and smiled. "Doors, windows, phone. Check. Nothing can stop us, Franky. You know what? I don't care if mom and dad come home early, they can stand outside the door and listen for all the difference it makes."

She raised her glass of Diet Coke to her lips and took a long sip. Obviously he'd missed the moment she'd plucked it from the bench, probably too engrossed in the thoughts of laying her down on his bed and climbing on top of her. 

Her slender throat bobbed as the dark liquid slid down and Frank licked his parched lips. The stifling heat outside had reduced him to wanting to gulp down Diet Coke. What was the world coming to?

"Want some?" she asked.

"If you don't mind."

"Well...what'll you give me for it?" 

"How does the best sex of your life sound?"

"I don't know," she teased, "how do I know you're really that good? I might give you the rest of this drink and find out you're bad in bed."

Frank laughed and accepted the glass when Monica held it out to him. The fizzy drink sloshed against his lips and drowned his mouth. His eyes sprang tears when he swallowed too fast and the bubbles tickled his throat, causing him to cough. 

Monica took the empty glass from him while he tried to get his coughing fit under control. She placed it on the bedside dresser and then moved into his arms, all soft curves and silky skin. 

"Oh Jesus, that tastes bloody awful," he gasped. "How can you like that shit?"

"What, Diet Coke?"

"Yeah, why don't you drink normal Coke? It tastes much better."

She stepped away from his body and grabbed one of his hands, placing it above the waist of her cut-off jeans. His palm lay flat against her pink tank top and he could feel the gentle curve of her stomach. Blinking stupidly, he peered curiously at her, wondering what the heck she was doing. 

"See this?" she asked.

"It's your stomach."

"And if I drank regular Coke this would be a big ball of blubber. Do you know how hard it is for me to stay in shape? No? Damn hard. I know I'm not that much to look at," she held a hand up to him when he was going to give a rebuttal, "you keep quiet. Like I was saying, I know I'm not much to look at, but if I were fat then I wouldn't have any chance at hooking a guy."

The world was full of insanity. How the hell could Monica think she was unattractive? Other than that, Frank liked to think that if she did have a few more pounds around the midriff then he would still be as attracted to her as he was now. 

"Even if you were bigger, I'd still find you gorgeous," he said honestly.

Monica's mouth tilted into a lopsided smile but it didn't extend to her eyes, which seemed a little sad. "How many overweight girls have you dated?"

He opened his mouth to answer and it snapped shut like a mousetrap. For a brief second he averted his eyes from hers and he ran a hand nervously through his hair. The answer to that question was obvious and rhetorical.

All of the girls he'd dated had been the epitome of the male fantasy. Some had been a little too thin, but you could never call a single one of them overweight. Kathy had been pleasantly rounded, and Monica's physique almost mirrored his ex-girlfriend's. Frank liked curves on a girl, but like most guys there was a point where too much weight began to turn him off. 

"I'm not trying to be nasty, Frank," she said, slipping into his arms. "I'm just trying to illustrate a point." 

"That you shouldn't drink regular Coke?" he asked with a slight grin.

She smiled and tightened her grip around his waist. "That's right, because I'm a Diet Coke girl."

And that was when the sour mood lifted. A heavy cloak of negativity had been narrowly avoided by a simple and effective joke. The seriousness eked out of her eyes and it was replaced by an enthusiastic glimmer, a sparkle that made his cock leap in his pants. 

The humidity in his bedroom had already affected both of them. Frank could feel more droplets of sticky sweat slide down his face and back, giving him another reason for wanting to disrobe and aerate his body. Monica's face was starting to take on a shine and her brow and upper lip were accumulating perspiration of their own. 

Moving slowly, he slipped his hands to the bottom of her tank top and grabbed the hemline. Just as he was about to raise it both wrists were stopped in their tracks by Monica's light touch. Her fingers didn't even have to grab hold of him, all she had to do was touch him and that alerted him to the fact she didn't want to advance.

"Why am I the one who has to get undressed first?"

"Why should I?" he offered.

"Because I say so," she grinned.

"Oh, is that a fact, is it?"

"That's right. Girls always get their own way. Why should this be any different?"

"Because...uh..."

Monica started to laugh and he joined in. "You don't even have a comeback, do you?" she giggled. "C'mon, let's get your clothes off. By the time we're naked mom and dad will be getting home."

They had at least a good four hours before that transpired, but she did make a valid point.

"Okay, undress me then," he said, laying his hands at his sides.

"With pleasure."

Skillfully, and much faster than Frank could, Monica unbuttoned his shirt and spread it open, exposing his slick chest. She spun him around on the balls of his feet until his back was to her, peeling the shirt away from his shoulders and sliding it down his muscular arms with efficiency and speed. 

Before he could turn around she slid her arms around his waist and ran her hands over his flat stomach. Her body molded into the curve of his spine and he could feel her stiff nipples poking against his skin through her tank top. Something soft grazed against his neck and his skin prickled. It was her lips, kissing him lightly, and then she slid her tongue from her mouth and began licking his warm flesh. 

"You have an amazing body," Monica whispered. "You're the hottest guy in school, and you're all mine. I know girls that would give their right ear to be in this position with you."

"Really?" he asked. "I don't suppose you have their phone numbers do you?"

"Smartass," she laughed.

Her hands were caressing his stomach and were sending delightful shivers coursing through his body. Then, in what felt like slow motion, Monica let her fingers dance away from his stomach and waltz down his abdomen, not slowing down until they came across the conspicuous bulge of his crotch.

"I think I might need to unwrap this present you have for me," she breathed, flicking her tongue against his ear.

The only answer he could give was an anguished moan, which grew louder as her slender fingers manipulated his zipper, sending his trousers sliding down his legs. They piled up at his ankles in a rumpled mess and her hands immediately zeroed in on the flimsy fabric of his underwear. 

"I thought that diamonds were the hardest substance on earth," she giggled, rubbing at his hard cock with an air of urgency and need.

"Better call Guinness, Mon, I think we've got a new record."

Monica sank to her knees but continued to knead his stiff flesh through his underwear. Then gave him an impatient tug and he realized that she wanted him to turn around. When he faced her she was looking at the protruding bulge with fascination and her pink tongue darted out of her mouth and ran suggestively along her lips.

"I owe you a blowjob," she said, gazing up into his eyes. "Isn't that right, Franky?"

This morning she'd offered him one and he'd turned it down. Now, with her mouth hovering so close that he could feel her hot, moist breath through his underwear, it seemed very unlikely that he would be turning her away on this occasion.

"Yes," he groaned. "You do."

"Don't cum in my mouth though, okay? You promised that your next load would be in my pussy. You shook on it, we had a deal."

"Okay, no cumming, gotcha."

Under careful scrutiny her hands slipped underneath the elastic band of his underwear and pulled outward and downward at the same time. His engorged cock sprang into view and the smile on her face was one of giddy rapture. It was harder than it had ever been and it looked slightly bigger, as if the absence of relief had somehow stretched him longer and slightly wider.

Monica licked her lips again and wrapped one of her delicate hands around him, proceeding to jack him off slowly. With her free hand she helped him step out of his trousers and underwear, then picked them up and tossed them out of the way. 

"I just realized something," she said with a peculiar smile. "If anyone ever calls me a cocksucker, I won't be able to deny it."

Nervous laughter erupted out of Frank and she flashed him a sheepish grin. 

The way she was stroking him slowly, the sexy look in her eyes and the fact she was still fully clothed – it all made him want to cum all over her pretty face right then and there. There was something incredibly erotic about the way a girl looked while she was still fully clothed and had a cock in her hand. When she put him in her mouth the scene would look infinitely sexier, and he would have to consciously strive to not lose his cool.




It Started with a Kiss Ch. 02



Unlike the previous blowjob she'd given him, this time Monica went about her task with more than an ounce of experimentation. This wasn't to say that her last blowjob was unsatisfactory; on the contrary, it was fantastic. It was just nice to see her become comfortable and get into the rhythm of using her mouth on him.

Her eyes flicked away from his and gazed at the turgid member in her hand. It was an angry red due to the fact he'd had a perpetual hard-on all day long, and it twitched in anticipation when her lips parted and lowered towards the silken head. Her soft mouth touched his cock, sending shudders racing up the shaft and through his entire body – the sensation also giving him a chronic case of gooseflesh. 

The tip of his cock was resting on her soft lips and she guided it around the rim of her mouth, using his cock as if she were applying lipstick. Instead of painting her lips it left a shiny trail of saliva, which had been flowing steadily onto the head from between her parted lips. 

Fisting him slowly, Monica kissed the swollen head and flicked her tongue against the smooth skin. Then she kissed her way down the underside of his shaft until she came to his balls and, after a moment of hesitation, she attacked them with her hot little mouth as well, kissing and licking them until they were dripping with copious amounts of spittle.

"Why don't you give them a bit of a suck," he moaned.

Desperate to please him, she stretched her lips wide and accepted his left testicle, sucking on it as if it were a miniature meatball. Her fist began to stroke faster as her mouth slurped harder; causing him to groan so loudly that if anyone had been within earshot they would've thought he was in agony. Happy to remain on ball duty, Monica let the testicle in her mouth pop out and she immediately wrapped her lips around the other one, sucking it past her teeth so that her tongue could flick against it while she gave him pleasure.

A lot of women don't like sucking on a guy's nuts and you really can't blame them. Most of the time the skin is shriveled, they're hairy, sweaty, and the task seems demeaning. However, a task – like getting on your knees to administer a blowjob or lick a set of testicles – is only demeaning if either party considers it to be. If both people respect the other wholeheartedly, how can any sexual activity, whatever its nature, ever be demeaning? 

After giving his right testicle its own private party she gave both balls a couple of giant goodbye licks and caught the connecting flight back to his cock. Although it had loved being pumped by her tight fist, his meat had become jealous of all the attention that the potatoes had received. After all, everyone knows that the meat tastes better than the veggies, right?

Then she really started getting into it. She slipped her sliding hand to the base and then engulfed his cock in one foul swoop, making at least two inches disappear as if she were a magician performing a magic trick. The inside of her mouth was smooth and he could feel the prickly edges of her teeth graze his skin lightly. It was steaming hot in there and her tongue, which was flicking against the underside of his shaft, was bathing him in warm saliva. 

Her lips were wrapped firmly around him and her head began to bob up and down as she sucked. When her movements became rapid her golden ponytail began to jerk about wildly, until, nice guy that he was, he placed his hand on the back of her head and held the flipping hair in place.

"Oh Monica," he moaned. "You have no idea how good your mouth feels."

She looked up at him and smiled around his cock, letting out a couple of giggles that vibrated along his smooth, slick skin. Then she sucked on him harder and flicked her tongue against the head rapidly. Each time her warm, moist tongue made contact with him he had to grit his teeth and steel himself – the pleasure was just too intense. 

A part of him wanted to screw his eyes shut due to the incredible sensations that Monica was evoking. But another part of him – the stronger and more prominent side – just had to watch as his beautiful sister devoured his cock like it was a tasty hotdog.

Monica just kept on sucking and he just kept on moaning; now having to steady himself by laying both hands on her head to keep his knees from buckling. A river of saliva was drooling out of her mouth and onto his cock, so much so that even her chin and tank top couldn't escape the steady flow of warm liquid. 

She suddenly jerked her mouth off it as if scalded, and then proceeded to slap the head of his rigid flesh against her tongue, which was hanging over her lips. It seemed that their antics had caused her to become out of breath, because she was panting like a thirsty dog. 

"Am I a good little cocksucker?" she asked shyly. There was nothing shy about her though, because as her words slipped from her shiny lips she rubbed his stiff flesh against one smooth cheek, down across her saliva-coated chin and pressed it to the other cheek. 

"I don't know how, but you're a goddamn natural at it," he groaned.

"Remember how I told you I'm into porn?" she asked, out of breath.

"Uh huh."

"Well, I have over ten gigs worth of blowjob movies. Nothing gets me off faster than watching a woman suck on a man's cock."

If she'd watched it being done so often there was no need to call Ripley's: Believe It or Not. The first blowjob she'd given him had probably been a little daunting, not knowing what to expect and all, so this time she'd let her hair down and given in to her desire.

She kept kissing and licking his slippery, hard flesh, seemingly obsessed with touching and sucking it. He had to take it away from her though, because if she continued stimulating him any longer then he would be breaking his promise.

Before he exploded all over her face he backed away from her and his cock fell from her grasp. A pained expression flashed over her face and a thin whine was produced from her shiny lips.

"Give it back," she pouted, sounding every bit like a little kid who had just had his favorite toy confiscated.

"Only if you want me to cum all over you."

"No," she sighed, biting her bottom lip. "I guess I don't."

Frank slid his hands underneath her armpits and helped Monica up from the floor. She was an absolute mess. Saliva had dribbled all the way down her chin and had positively drenched her pink tank top. Although it seemed like it shouldn't, it made her look very sexy in a strange sort of way. 

She wiped at her chin with her forearm and then looked down at her top. "Jesus, look at me. I need a bib."

Soft laughter filled the room and they both grinned at each other. It was a sweet sound, melodic, and he enjoyed seeing Monica look so happy and at ease. 

"I adore sucking your cock," she cooed. "It's all stiff and hard because of me, for me."

Frank could feel her saliva dribbling off the tip, but he couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away from her beautiful green eyes. "I adore letting you suck it. You definitely have oodles of talent in that department."

They embraced and their mouths mashed together with a feverish hunger, both of them still as horny as ever. Frank let his hands drop to her cut-off jeans while their tongues toyed and sucked. He unbuttoned them slowly and then lowered the fly. 

The stiff fabric hugged the contours of her body tightly, so he had to break the kiss and get down on his knees, gaining leverage in the process as well as a fantastic view. Where the front of her jeans lay open he caught a glimpse of her white panties, and he could smell her delicious scent. He gripped the edges and jerked hard, the result being that not only did the cut-offs glide down her thighs but so too did her panties, revealing her wispy blonde curls and two puffy lips. They glistened with moisture and were slightly red, possibly the victim of needing to be pleasured but being denied it all day long.

When he rose from his crouch he found that Monica had removed her tank top for him. Her lovely round breasts stared at him and he licked his lips at the sight of her pink, hardened nipples. 

She stepped out of her panties and cut-offs and stabbed at them with her toes, sending the material flying across the room and into a model car on his bookshelf. It was a 1968 cherry red Pontiac Firebird that he'd built from scratch. The distinctive sound of cracking plastic came from its general direction.

"Oh shit!" she gasped.

Before she could move he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her gloriously nude body roughly into his. Her erect nipples grazed his chest and his cock slipped between her smooth thighs, the top edge finding itself snug against her slick, puffy folds. Frank rocked back and forth and the friction caused her pussy to glide along his shaft.

"But Frank–"

"Forget about it," he whispered.

"But–"

Frank silenced her by placing his lips to hers and inserted his tongue into her mouth. She accepted it willingly and kissed him back, bringing her arms up and around his neck. The sensation of her pussy sliding all over his cock was too much for him to bear, so he removed it, only to have Monica whining moments later.

"Put your hand between my legs. Oh Christ, please play with me Franky, play with my pussy."

His right hand seemed up to the challenge and he slid it between their bodies and pressed his fingers against her slit. It was hot to touch and, as she'd professed before, absolutely soaking wet. Unable to stop himself at merely touching it, he pressed two fingers together and thrust them deep inside. Her vagina was tight, smooth and wet, so wet that his fingers squelched when he began to piston them in and out of her. 

Monica clutched at his neck and pulled his mouth back to hers. Their lips parted and she moaned around his thrusting tongue, alternating between licking and sucking it. They engaged in a furious tongue war that would rival any battle ever written in the history books, and her hips pounded against his hand with a speed and force that told Frank she needed more than mere fingers – she needed a cock.

He pulled his tongue from her mouth and licked along her cheek until he came to her ear. "Would you like to lose your virginity now?" he whispered.

"Oh yes," she sighed.

"Although, technically you've already lost it, because I've already been inside you."

"Don't be mean. No girl wants to lose her virginity like that, so I think that I'll be losing it today by default."

"I'm sorry," he said, retrieving his sticky fingers from between her thighs and breaking away from her. "How can I make it up to you?"

"By putting that inside me, right now," she said, staring at his erect cock. 

If there's one piece of information that fathers should hand down to their sons, it's this: if a woman asks you to fuck her, you do it. Don't tease her with your cock, don't muck around. If she's asking it usually means that she's so horny that it feels like a million ants are crawling all over her pussy. 

"I think we should consider using," he leaned around her and pulled a pack of condoms out of his bedside dresser, "some protection, don't you?"

When he showed her the box she swatted it away from his hand. The package spun through the air in a wide arc and hit the bed, bounced, and then tumbled across the mattress and disappeared over the edge.

Her face was sweaty and there was an impatient little frown forming. "Which part of 'I want you to cum inside my pussy' don't you understand, Franky?"

"But–"

"Huh uh," she said with an emphatic shake of her head, sending her blonde ponytail flopping in the air. "No buts. I want to feel your cum inside me, end of story."

She had that I-will-get-my-own-way pout on her face and tone to her voice, and Frank thought better about questioning her over the matter. Besides, the idea of shooting his sperm into her vagina made him brim with excitement.

Frank clasped his hand in his sister's and led her over to the large bed. The sheets were rumpled from when they'd arisen that morning, and the image of Spider-Man was all skewed and barely recognizable. He meticulously straightened out the sheets for optimum comfort and Monica brought a hand up to her mouth to try to stifle the giggles – although the attempt turned out rather unsuccessful. 

"What's funny?"

"The fact you have a Spider-Man blanket cover, it's just so...juvenile." "Well, if there was one with Kirsten Dunst wearing nothing but a smile, I would buy that," he said defensively.

Monica cocked her head and dropped her hand away from her mouth, revealing a sweet smile. "Oh Franky, you're so male."

In all honesty, could any man not find the lovely Kirsten Dunst attractive? Particularly in Spider-Man as Mary-Jane Watson, with that flowing red hair that suited her fair complexion so well.

All of a sudden, with the lightning reflexes of an attacking rattlesnake, he wrapped his powerful forearms around Monica and jerked her into the air. She shrieked with girlish laughter and writhed against his sweaty body, although her movements seemed to do nothing other than grind her skin into his, instead of trying to slip from his grasp. Then he unceremoniously tossed her into the air and she landed in the middle of the mattress, hitting it with a bouncing 'thwomp.' 

"That was fun," she giggled. "Although, I think I'd like to go on a different ride now."

He joined her on the bed and snuggled up to her, both of them slick with sweat and unable to keep their hands away from each other. In an intimate gesture he cupped the side of her face and delivered one sweet, gentle kiss to her soft lips. He kissed his way down the side of her cheek until he found himself nuzzling the tender part of her throat. 

"Frank..." she whimpered.

He raised his head and stared into her expressive green eyes. "Yes?"

Monica eased away from him and crawled along the bed on all fours, treating Frank to the lovely view of her swaying ass and her leaking pussy. When her head reached the fluffy pillows she turned, sank her body into the mattress, spread her legs obscenely wide and plucked the pink ribbon from her hair, causing her ponytail to loosen and her thick mane to flutter around her face and shoulders. 

"Fuck me," she intoned lasciviously, gazing seductively into his eyes. "Come here and molest your innocent, virginal little sister."

Talking dirty while having sex was like having a fire while camping – they both went so perfectly together that you couldn't have one without the other. Because they were siblings it seemed that they were in a unique position to carry the art of talking dirty across new frontiers and into rarely explored realms, where most normal people could – and would – never go. 

He sat up on his knees and crawled to her, arriving between her spread thighs. Both of her long, supple legs called to him and his shaking hands answered. The skin was milky-white, the texture soft, and starting from her knees his palms glided over her skin until they caressed past her thighs and arrived at the exquisite juncture between them. 

"If you're innocent, then I'm the pope."

"So I should start calling you the pontiff?" 

He laughed softly and shook his head. 

The only question that kept floating through his mind was this: how the fuck was Monica able to be so uninhibited and sexy? It crossed his mind that she may have been harboring feelings for him that well exceeded the time-span of his own, and that many lonely a night she may have laid back on her bed and played with herself to the plentiful fantasies involving him.

"You really do put Grace Kelly to shame," he murmured, speaking while he was thinking. With Monica looking the way she was – hair tousled, breasts tipped with hardened nipples, legs splayed apart, lust-ridden eyes, sweaty skin and sweet smelling pussy – she put every single female he'd ever seen to shame. She was gorgeous, but not innocent.

"And you are a modern day Jimmy Stewart," she said. 

That was the best compliment he'd ever received. To be compared with the late James Stewart, who was one of the nicest guys to ever grace the silver screen, how could you ever top that?

Frank gently ran his fingertips along the lips of her vagina and her legs trembled visibly. Her musky scent enveloped him. It attacked his nasal cavities like the mouthwatering aroma of a freshly baked pie, only this pie could be eaten an infinite number of times and would never come close to being finished.

Her hands suddenly clawed at his shoulders and she pulled him roughly on top of her body. The motion caused his body to slam forcefully into hers and their genitals came into contact, sending his heart into a quick pitter-patter that made his blood roar through his eardrums. 

There was an overload of sensations bombarding him. The slippery texture of their sweaty bodies, Monica's heavy breath bathing his face, her breasts pushing provocatively against his chest, the contact of their respective privates and so many other stimuli that Frank had to close his eyes and let his whirling mind catch up to his racing heart. 

After staring at the backs of his eyelids for a few moments he heard Monica say: "Look at me, Franky."

He eased his brown eyes open and stared at her. Monica was gazing at him limpidly with her lips parted and a steady stream of air escaping them. Her face was covered in a light sheen of sweat, no make-up and her hair was disheveled, yet she still managed to knock the socks off any other pretty girl in town. When it comes to cuteness, no amount of cosmetic application can capture its essence. Monica's beauty was natural and extended beyond her face and body; it also shone through due to her big heart and sensitive nature. 

I want you, he thought, oh sweet Jesus I want you.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

"More than anything in the world, Mon."

The corners of her mouth tilted into a gentle smile and she cupped the left side of his face. Her hand lovingly caressed his cheek as her eyes searched his. "Good," she said softly, "because I love you. I always dreamed that we would be together, but never once in my wildest fantasies did I believe it would happen, or that it would be this amazing."

Somehow they had both reigned in their hormones for the time being and placed them under lock and key. Although, at any one moment Frank suspected that his could spiral out of control and try to throw of their shackles like a bucking bronco. 

Frank slipped a hand through her lustrous blonde hair and kissed her softly. "I'm sorry that your first time hasn't been a little more romantic."

"Hey, we're both at fault here. In fact, we can blame mom and dad. They're the reason we're both as randy as a couple of dogs in heat."

"Well," he said off-handedly, "speak for yourself." 

"What're you trying to say?" she laughed. "That I'm the only one who wants to fuck like a little bunny rabbit?"

"When you put it like that..."

Monica laced her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his. "You're such a cutie, Frank. I'm so lucky to have you here in my arms, looking at me the way you are. I love the way you look at me, it makes me feel special."

"You are special. Don't ever think you aren't, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered. Then they closed their eyes and kissed. Their tongues slid together at a slow and leisurely pace, and with each flick of the tongue Frank became more and more receptive to the fact that his cock was resting firmly against her slick pussy. 

He raised his ass a little and the tip of his cock traced along her slit and arrived at her opening. Monica sighed into his mouth and sucked on his tongue harder, wetter, and her lashings became even more frantic when he pressed the tip to her opening and eased inside her body.

"Mmm," she moaned. Her fingers tightened around his neck and her mouth became a slick vacuum.




It Started with a Kiss Ch. 02



The head of his cock parted her lips like Moses parted the red sea, only Frank imagined that his cock had a little less maneuverability than the wide wall of water that his biblical counterpart had. Monica was tight. And not only was she tight, but also scorching hot and slicker than a wet mackintosh. It had to be a mixture of sweat as well as pussy juice, because there was absolutely no way she could be that turned on. 

Inch by loving inch he slid into her body, until finally, with his eyes screwed shut and his tongue being attacked by Monica's, the remaining naked flesh disappeared between her legs and nestled comfortably into its new home. It was as if her pussy was trying to strangle his cock, or in the very least grip him so tightly that he could never escape her humid confines. 

"Oh fuck," Frank gasped.

A host of giggles entered his mouth, yet Monica continued to kiss him. Although now her pace dwindled somewhat and she relaxed into a steadier rhythm. She was a good kisser and she seemed to revel in the sharing of tongues and saliva.

He moved his hands to either side of her head and slipped them underneath the fluffy pillow until they broke through the other side and his fingers curled around the edge. While doing that, Monica brought her legs up around his waist and enclosed them around his body, the balls of each dainty foot resting against the curve of each one of his ass cheeks.

They released each other's tongues and Frank was met by a red-faced Monica. She was breathing hard and licking at her shiny lips. Sliding down her face were tiny rivulets of sweat. Pasted to her shiny forehead were a few strands of hair – the moisture had turned them from blonde to a light brown.

"Are you going to make love to me or just sit there and admire the view?" she asked softly, then wriggled her ass around with impatience.

"Ugh," he grunted. Each rotation of her ass made his cock move around inside her like a wooden spoon stirring a bowl of cookie mixture.

"Can you give me the English version?" 

"Uh...shit, I think that I'm limited to caveman talk for the time being."

"Well, you've already got me on my back with my legs open and your cock inside me; I don't think you need to club me over the head and drag me around by the hair. I'm being real easy for you Mr. Caveman, go ahead and start fucking me any time you like."

"You're a minx," Frank laughed, "a sexy little minx and you're going to get what you deserve."

"So hurry up and give it to me," she cried huskily, and then emphasized her need by wriggling her hips wildly again. "Frank, if I have to ask again I'm going to get violent." There was a pained expression on Monica's face and he half believed what she said to be true. 

It was surreal to say the least. Here he was, on his bed, on top of his beautiful blonde sister with his cock buried so completely inside her pussy that his balls were resting snug above her asshole. 

Frank squeezed the edges of the pillow until his knuckles turned white, and using it as leverage he began to fuck Monica very slowly, all the while gazing into her beautiful green eyes. His strokes were long and gentle and their shallow breathing was masked by the soft slapping of their bodies as she raised her hips to parry each downward thrust. At the apex of each withdrawal from her body, Frank's cock screamed at him to slam back inside and pound the girl lying underneath him senseless. Nice guy that he was, he refused this advice and opted for a gentler approach. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, making sure that she was experiencing zero discomfort.

A lovesick smile spread over her lips and she caressed his cheek affectionately, running her fingernails lightly over his skin. "Aren't you sweet? I'm more than okay, Franky, I've never felt better."

She brought his face down to hers and gave him a quick, breathless kiss. Frank could feel Monica's soft mouth trembling against his own as their lips touched briefly. Then the sensation was gone and she pulled his head down to the pillow so that they were pressed cheek to cheek. Her lips rested against his ear and she licked and kissed it as his cock maintained its slow-paced rhythm. 

"Thanks for asking though, I'm sure most guys wouldn't care," she whispered. 

"I just don't want to hurt you, that's all."

"I'll tell you if you do. It doesn't hurt right now, it feels wonderful."

The insides of her vagina were so buttery that each insertion of his cock was rewarded with a wet squelch – the undeniably juicy sound of two people fucking. It wasn't primarily the fact she was so slippery that turned him on. It was a combination of wetness, warmth and an irresistible tightness that could send a guy crazy with lust. 

"Good God you're tight," he hissed.

Monica giggled and dug her heals into his ass, forcing his cock into her a little bit faster and a little bit deeper. "That's what happens when you never stick anything in there that's wider than a carrot or a couple of fingers."

"You've never used anything bigger?"

"I read in Cosmopolitan that guys don't like loose pussies. The last thing I want is to be able to be used as a hand puppet."

This caused Frank to laugh hard and his thrusts became jerky, ultimately dislodging him from within her body. He scrambled feverishly and they both sighed with relief when he slid back into her.

He raised his head from the pillow and their eyes locked. An invisible energy crackled between them as they met each other's simmering gaze. Before he even processed what was happening he shoved his tongue into her mouth and began kissing her passionately. Monica returned his kiss with a fervid intensity, attacking his lips and tongue while running her hands over his sweaty back and through his hair. 

A squeal of pleasure vibrated along his tongue when he threw off the shackles and began fucking her harder, faster, with long even strokes that were enthusiastically met by Monica's own surging hips. 

If there was a God, Frank hoped that even if He found incest to be a mortal sin, surely He would commiserate with Frank's plight. Monica was one of the most beautiful creatures that the almighty had graced the planet with – both of mind and body – therefore, in all his divine wisdom even God couldn't punish him for doing what felt as natural as breathing or blinking. 

Monica removed her tongue from his mouth with a loud slurp and proceeded to lick her way down his chin until she came to the hollow of his throat. Once there, she began sucking and nipping at the tender area, while some of her wispy blonde locks of hair drifted against his neck and tickled his skin.

His cock was pounding into her body at a frenzied rate – though not too hard to cause discomfort – and Monica's hips continued to encourage him to slide deeper, slam faster. Each time he stabbed himself into her pussy she would grunt softly and, with every withdrawal, she would moan loudly and clutch at him desperately until he filled her up again. 

"Oh Mon," he cried, a shiver of delight running the length of his spine. "You feel so good, and your pussy...so tight, so wet."

She stopped kissing his throat and brushed her lips against his ear. "I'm this wet because of you," she sighed.

Sex had never been this good. It wasn't nice to compare one sexual partner with another, but this had to be the greatest experience he'd ever encountered. Even Kathy, who had been playful if a little shy, couldn't compete with the explosive feelings that Monica was evoking. 

Their incessant fucking was now producing a very audible squishy noise that resonated from between Monica's legs. She was trembling against him as if she were freezing cold, but that couldn't be the case because she was completely covered in a fine layer of slick sweat. A low whine escaped her voice box and her upward humping became haphazard and jerky, out of sync with Frank's own rhythmic thrusts.

He raised his head and opened his eyes for the first time in minutes. After blinking rapidly he focused on his sister's face and he almost lost control of his libido right then and there. Her eyes were screwed shut and her silky smooth brow was covered in hundreds of droplets of sweat. Golden tendrils of hair were glued to her forehead and cheeks, while the rest of her mane was fanned out over the fluffy white pillow. Her soft lips were parted and a host of steady moans, grunts and whines flowed forth, although they were joined every few seconds by her delicate tongue, which would dart out quickly and lap at her shiny lips.

With each subsequent viewing Monica became more beautiful to Frank, a little sexier and a lot cuter. Images of eating her out last night played in his mind like a video recorder – her aroma, taste and reaction to his tongue all flashed behind his eyes as he gazed at her face. These memories spurred him on faster and his cock wanted to make her cum again. It wanted to make her have such a powerful orgasm that his eardrums would explode and the house would fall down around them. 

"Are you going to cum?" he asked, beginning to puff with exertion.

It took her a few seconds to swallow the build-up of saliva and get her voice under control. "Y-yes," she stuttered.

"Open your eyes, look at me while you cum."

Monica raised her eyelids like a pair of blinds and underneath she revealed a pair of green orbs that seemed to delve so deep into his soul that he was profoundly affected by her unblinking gaze. No girl had ever stared at him like that. So trusting and lovingly, and he'd never felt as at home in a girl's arms as he did right now. 

"I love you," he whispered. "God, I love you so much."

A whimsical smile touched her lips and her eyes glimmered. "And I l-love y-you," she stammered breathlessly.

A pained countenance cast over her face and her body wasn't just trembling now – it was quaking as if she were a volcano about to erupt. Molten hot lava was dribbling all over his thrusting cock and her pussy was contracting around him, squeezing at his shaft as if it wanted to trap him deep inside her body for all time.

"Oh fuck," she groaned loudly, her hips out of control. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!"

Her arms and legs clutched desperately at him as if she were a crocodile, a fierce reptile who was about to roll over and suffocate him underneath the murky water. But she didn't, all she did was grip at him as if he was her savior and chant that four-lettered swear word over and over again. 

Then Monica's eyes became unfocused and he wondered if he'd turned into a clear pane of glass, because she was staring right through him. Her skin prickled with gooseflesh and he could feel her hardened nipples graze against his chest. She was panting hard. Sweat dripped from his face and splashed against her cheek. Time seemed to stand still as Frank eagerly awaited Monica's orgasm, keeping in mind that his wasn't too far away either.

And then she erupted with a ferocity that would rival the fabled volcanic eruption of Krakatoa. 

First of all, her body went as taut as tightrope walker's line and her saturated pussy tensed around his invading cock. Her eyes widened and the repetitive chant of 'oh fuck' ceased, yet her lips continued moving silently to the words. Then, a whole host of obscenities clawed their way up her throat and flew from her mouth, some of the words she moaned so vulgar that she could put any swearing larrikin to shame.

All of a sudden she softened and started writhing underneath him like a flopping fish. A girlish squeal filled his ears and her vagina bucked against his stabbing penis – her movements so wild his that his cock was almost jolted out of her body. 

Monica slipped her arms from his neck and cupped his face in her soft hands, pulling his head downward until their mouths met and her expletives were cut to mere murmurs. Their tongues sucked hungrily and she continued to squeal into his mouth, although now it was a distinctly muffled sound.

It crossed his mind that he should pause and wait until Monica's orgasm had passed. But he couldn't. He was so horny and aroused that he continued to screw her, which caused her to squirm against his thrusting cock like a skewered worm. The movement from between her legs was becoming more frantic, as were her exploring tongue and lips. 

Frank removed his tongue from her mouth but left his lips pressed gently to hers. "Would you like to be on top?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she moaned. "I'd love it."

She unlaced her legs from around his body and let them drop to the mattress. Frank retrieved his arms from underneath the pillow, latched his hands onto her shoulders and in one fluent move he rolled sideways until Monica was straddling him like a cowgirl. 

The whole process had been executed with fine-tuned precision – not once had there been any danger of his cock slipping out of her pussy. 

When she was in a comfortable sitting position she stopped moving around and sat completely impaled on his stiff length of flesh. She was panting like a marathon jogger and the heavy rise and fall of her chest made her breasts jiggle invitingly. Long slivers of hair hung about her face in blonde cascades, but she hardly seemed to notice. She was too focused on staring into his beautiful brown eyes to be aware of her sweaty condition or annoying hair. 

"This has to be close to going off soon," she said, slowly rotating her hips to indicate what she was referring to.

"It will be," Frank groaned.

Monica slipped her hands down her stomach and gently traced the edges of her spread pussy, where her skin ended and his cock began. Her gaze left his eyes and focused between her legs. The expression on her face was one of great curiosity, and then her eyes drifted from her exploring hands and locked onto his again.

"I can feel your cock deep in there...so warm...so hard," she sighed.

Without warning Monica started bouncing enthusiastically up and down on his cock. The loud and repetitive slap of her ass meeting his balls drowned out her labored breathing and Frank's agonized gasps – the fleshy collision of their bodies was the only sound they could hear. 

"Oh Christ, Mon. Don't you dare think about stopping."

"Wouldn't hear of it," she whimpered.

Her nicely proportioned breasts jerked each time she embedded herself on his shaft and it was impossible for him to just lay there and not play with them. As her slick pussy milked his cock he ran his hands along her smooth thighs, up her stomach and cupped both of her springy breasts in his hands. He played, squeezed and toyed with them. He pinched her nipples and hefted the juicy melon-shaped objects against his palms, testing their weight. 

Then she really began to ride him hard. Her hips slammed roughly into his, sending brilliant bolts of pleasure racing down his shaft and through every sensory receptor in his entire body. There was a look of determination in her eyes, like she was on a covert mission and she had objectives that she must fulfill. One such objective was to fuck him until he drenched her pussy in his cum, and boy, she was taking the right path to succeeding.

It wasn't long before Monica was entering the zone of having her second orgasm. Seeing as how she'd never had the chance to coast down from the first one, and the fact that she was riding him so aggressively – not to mention the pleasure he was giving her by fondling her tits – it was no wonder that she came so fast. 

"Oh fuck!" she gasped. Her mouth was slack and her eyes half closed, the irresistible look of pleasure on her face couldn't be missed, even by a blind man. "I'm going to cum, Franky. Oh shit, fucking hell, I'm going to cum."

While she was in the throes of her second explosive orgasm, Frank's own became imminent. It all became way too much for him to handle – Monica's squeals of pleasure, the two beautiful breasts he was fondling, her sweaty body, the adorable look on her flushed face, his engorged cock being hugged by her flooded pussy, and the simple fact that he was fucking a beautiful young girl who happened to be his sister – it all sent him spiraling over the edge.

"Oh sweet Jesus, here it comes," he gasped. 

Moving fast, Monica grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled them both back to their previous positions. When he landed on top of her his cock slammed deep into her tight, juicy pussy, and he felt the typical sensation of his body readying itself for ejaculation. 

"I want every single drop," she whispered, then feverishly attacked his mouth with her lips and tongue. She was obviously still in the pleasurable clutches of her orgasm, because her pussy was still tensing around his erection and her hips were grinding against his. It was as if her pussy wanted to devour more cock than he had to offer her. 

He trembled violently in her arms and gasped around her sucking tongue, almost clamping his teeth around it when his sperm shot explosively out of the tip of his cock. Three large spurts of stringy semen blasted into her depths, filling her with his sticky white spunk. After the initial throbs more continued to leak into her at a slow dribble, but the majority had already been spent. 

The soft inner-walls of her pussy milked every last drop from him and his cock was a desperately willing participant in donating it all to her. 

Most guys, despite the dangers of disease and pregnancy, love shooting their sperm into a woman's vagina and Frank was no exception. Perhaps the simplest answer boiled down to genetics, that males have a built-in need to perpetuate the species. Maybe that was it, but Frank liked to believe that for him it was more than just human mechanics. He liked to think that it was born of the romantic ideal that a part of him would live on in every girl he came inside of. 

Monica stroked his sweaty back and moaned softly into his mouth. When she stopped bucking and shuddering against him the urgency eked out of her kiss and was replaced with a smoldering sensuality. Her lips turned soft, tender, and her wet tongue poked against his with dainty flicks. 

Their lips broke apart and they stared at each other for a long moment. She looked sated. Her entire face glowed with satisfaction and Frank gave himself a mental high five. Mission accomplished, he thought. At the end of the day that was all he cared about, making sure that the girl he made love to thoroughly enjoyed herself and was left deeply stimulated –both in body and soul.

"Wow," she said.

"Wow," he echoed.

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "No matter what happens between us, I'll always remember this."

"Me too, it'll be kind of hard to forget."

Worried about crushing her with his weight, Frank rolled away from her and landed in a sticky patch of sweat. It was where he'd laid only minutes ago while Monica had ridden him like a wild pony, and he was amazed with how damp the sheets were. The room was hot and humid, but it hardly seemed to register. 

There was movement next to him and when he turned he was confronted by Monica lying on her left side, one elbow taking the grunt of her weight and the hand connected was pressed against the side of her head, holding it up. Blonde hair drifted down to her shoulders and she'd taken the initiative to tuck back any loose strands behind her ears. Also, her face was shiny but sweat-free. Obviously she'd wiped it away on his blanket or pillow.

She just sat there with a quirky smile and looked down at him. "I can't believe we just did that. I mean, I believe it, but I don't."

"Neither can I," Frank agreed. He reached out and touched her right forearm, gliding his palm over the slick, warm skin until his fingers reached hers and molded them together. For a few moments they tightened their grip on each other, and that simple gesture passed across information that could never be expressed with mere words.