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A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 02

By: leBonhomme



I am delighted that so many readers liked the first chapter. It looks as though there are going to be a couple of more after this one; I haven't finished the story yet. 

She wasn't going to tell me that she wanted to go back to the bed in her room. I snorted with a shrug and replied: 

"If we weren't here like this, I would have gone to the pool and looked at girls in bikinis."

"Hm-hmm! You can, if you still want to."

"Not any more. And you?"

"Hmm? We could go out on the patio and sunbathe, like this, in the corner where the neighbors can't see us."

"Better than going to the pool and looking at bikinis, or what I imagined they covered."

We chuckled, nodding with grins. She suggested that we should put on swimsuits while we moved the deckchairs to where we couldn't be seen. We did, returning to our rooms, then grinning when we met again, carrying towels. After we had moved the chairs and checked that we couldn't be seen, we stripped off our swimsuits, grinning and chuckling. 

"Back to normal," she murmured and fluffed up her pubic hair again. I nodded and jostled my sack free from my thigh. We sat down on our towels and lay back, letting the sun shine on us, warm on our naked midriffs, very nice and warm on my cock and balls. After a few minutes, my sack was very slack and my cock as long as it could be without becoming stiff, very nice. Then I noticed that she had rolled her thighs apart. The sun must be shining just as warm on her pussy. Did that feel as good for her as it did for me. 

"Feels good. Hope they don't get sunburned," she murmured. 

"Um-hmm, me too."

"Hm-hmm! And you wanted to look at bikinis, or what you imagined they were hiding?"

"Um-hmm," I agreed and told her about my observations and hopes of maybe seeing what the bikinis concealed. She chuckled and replied: 

"You don't have to now."

"No, and you look better than those single girls I thought I might dare to talk to."

"Thanks, but you don't need to use flattery, not any more."

"All the better; I probably wouldn't have dared."

"Oh, I would have let you. Yeah, you're right about the girls: with a friend or in groups." 

"Hmm?! But no one got in your bikini?" 

"Unfortunately." 

We snickered and were silent again. I was a little surprised that my cock stayed down on my balls, I didn't have to look to know that my foreskin had retreated from covering the head of my cock. Was the sun on her pussy making her think about what else we could do? What else? My licking her pussy? She sucking my cock? But she wasn't sure she really wanted to do that, not all the way, and not before she had tasted it first. My cock wasn't wanting to rest on my balls. How many times a day could a man have an orgasm? Three already. 

I relaxed, enjoying the sun, and my cock relaxed. I was almost dozing, when she murmured: 

"I wanted to look at it. If we're not going to do anything -- we're aren't going to do anything out here. You don't mind?" 

Mind that she said we weren't going to do anything? Or mind that she wanted to look at it? 

"If you want to," I murmured. 

She sat up and looked down at my cock and murmured: 

"Bigger that I thought it would be."

"The sun," I murmured, wonder how she wanted to look at it. She chuckled and murmured: 

"Do the ones under potbellies look the same way?" 

"Hmm! Don't get fatter, at least our coach's didn't."

"Hm-hmm! Ours still had nice breasts."

"And the girls'?"

"Some bigger, some smaller. Some bigger ones you wouldn't have like, if you like mine."

"I do." 

She gave me a smile and shoved her deck chair away from mine and dropped her towel on the patio to kneel on. My cock stirred. She nodded with soft hum and murmured: 

"Don't think I could have asked a guy to just look at his."

My cock more than stirred, lifting off my sack. 

"Nice big cock," she murmured, adding: "Kind of was hoping it would be all small, at least at first."

"With you staring at it? Better try that when you've taken all the starch out of it." 

"Hm-hm-hmm! I will, when it's sweet and small like after we did."

I nodded and watched her. She slid her hand up the inside of my thigh and held my balls, fondling them, chuckling as my cock rose up higher. I hummed, wondering what else she could want to see; my cock was about as stiff as it could be, sticking almost straight up. 

"Oooh! That's funny," she murmured. Her hand let go of my balls, and a finger slid up my cock, finding the little ridge of skin behind its head. I started with a slight gasp, as my cock twitched away from her finger, now pointing up over my stomach. 

"Sorry," she murmured."

"That's were it's most sensitive."

"Seemed like it. Sorry."

"You can do it again, feels good, but almost too good."

"If you want me to."

She did, and my cock twitched against her finger. She hummed and rubbed it there again, with the same result. I moaned. 

"It likes that," she murmured and made it twitch again. 

"Too much, if you don't want to do anything out here." 

I was looking up at the eaves, trying to control my arousal. She hummed and made it twitch again, then murmured: 

"Oooh! That's not all the little tadpoles; didn't see that before." 

I raised my head and saw clear liquid oozing out of my little slit. She snorted and wiped her finger over the head of my cock and murmured: 

"If I want to taste that, ..." and licked her finger. She grinned over at me and remarked: 

"Oh, that tastes good," and immediately caught what was sliding down the head of my cock and licked that up, giving me another grin, then saying: 

"Maybe we will out here. Will you really come -- all over the place -- if I just do that?"

"Hmm? Probably, but it felt so good in your tight pussy."

"Okay, that way; hope it's a lot again." 

She had fun alternating between holding and rubbing my cock and rubbing me there with her finger, chuckling each time she made my cock twitch, giving me a grin, when she wasn't watching the way her hand was rolling my foreskin over the rim of the head of my cock. Doing it to myself had never been as much fun or as arousing. At first, my moans were also chuckles, but then I was just moaning in anticipation of the orgasm that I knew was going to happen.. When my hips began to twitch, she also moaned in her throat, staring at my cock, waiting for it to spurt. 

I grunted, and it did. Wow! So high, since her hand was holding my cock up straight. Splat, splat splat! Shooting up and dropping on my stomach, south of my bellybutton. The next spurt only made it to my pubic hair, and the last one dribbled down on her hand. She hummed and squeezed a little more out of my cock, watching it slide down on her thumb. She gave me pleased smile and said: 

"Oh, that was good. Would have been on your shoulder again, if I had been aiming at it."

"Um-hmm," I agreed with a nod and smile. 

She looked back down at her hand with the creamy film on her fingers. She snorted softly and murmured: 

"It wants me to taste it. 

I held my breath in surprise, watching her raise her hand to her mouth. She licked, then scowled as she tasted it. She glanced at me with shrug, and then licked again, licking up more than before, and tasted it again. This time, she didn't scowl, just murmured: 

"Sure tastes strange." 

I nodded, but she wasn't looking at me. She licked her hand again, apparently not enough to taste, since she wiped up the largest blob on me and put her fingers in her mouth. It was enough for her move around in her mouth. She snorted, glancing at me again with shrug, and swallowed, licking her lips. I shrugged with a questioning smile. She snorted and shrugged again, then murmured: 

"I guess that's just the way it tastes, certainly not like anything else. Hmm? If I did that, I guess you could do it in my mouth. ... Hm-hmm! This is real funny!"

"It sure is! But if other girls like it, at least do it ..."

"What I was thinking. Maybe they learn to like it." 

"Hm-hmm! Practice makes perfect!" 

"You want me to?"

I just grinned. She wiped up both the other two splats with a sweep of her fingers and put them in her mouth before they could drip. She sucked on her fingers, smirking at me. 

"Practicing?" I asked. 

"Um-hmm," she hummed, nodding with her fingers still in her mouth. 

She pulled them out and licked her lips, smirking, and then said: 

"And you had better like the way I taste, too; I was all wet again."

"Mmmm! I will!" I replied with grin. 

I thought I would lick her pussy on the patio, but she grabbed her towel and swimsuit and stood up, turning to go back in the house. I grabbed my things and followed her. In her room again, she immediately dropped down across her bed, her head against the wall, spreading her legs. Then I recognized that she was presenting the view of her pussy like that picture in the book. Did her pussy look like the one in the illustration? It looked better, pink, glistening moistly around the mouth of her vagina, that I could now recognize. I dropped to my knees between her legs, and the view was that of the viewpoint of the illustration, looking up her body, seeing her aroused nipples, like those of the woman in the book. No wonder the book had had that illustration; I just hadn't known that it was suppose to suggest to readers that they were looking at a pussy they wanted to lick. 

I stared at her open pussy, more open when she drew her thighs up and they flopped to the side. Had I ever looked forward to tasting a new dish the way I was anticipating tasting her pussy? 

"Stop staring, lick!" she demanded softly, drawing her thighs even further back. Oooh! Her asshole below her pussy. I had always thought mine -- and everyone else's -- would look kind of nasty. Hers didn't; just a clean little, puckered hole. 

"Lick!" 

My older sister could be very insistent when she wanted something. I had learned that as a toddler, that it was better to do what she wanted than wait until she asked again. 

I licked, my tongue sweeping up all the way up between her pussy lips, over the mouth of her vagina, over the little soft flaps above it, up to a small bulge between the front of her pussy lips. She moaned. Did she really taste good? It was so arousing to taste her pussy. However it tasted, it was delightful to taste and to explore with my tongue. 

Until I saw that picture in the book, I had assumed that pussy lips just were a big slit like the little one in the head of my cock. Well, it had to be big enough for a cock to fit in, of course, but I hadn't imagined that pussy lips concealed anything else, especially not what my tongue was licking, those little soft flaps. If my cock could fit in her hole, my tongue could, and that was where the tasty juice was. 

"Uhnn!" It could, and it was so nice and wet and silky, and she liked that my tongue was probing, moaning. Pity that my tongue wasn't longer, so that I could fuck her with my tongue. What would it feel like for my finger in there? She had said that she licked her fingers, must put them in it. Of course, she must; trying to make it feel like a cock was in her. If I did that, I was going to have lick higher up to get my chin out of the way. She was going to like feeling my finger in her, but what could my tongue then do that was arousing? She had moaned, when I licked that little bulge. Was it sensitive to being licked? 

It must have been; she responded with shivering moan. She really liked that! If she did, I did. I forgot about putting my finger in her for a few moments. Then I remembered, my middle finger, the one extended "to give someone the finger." Her vagina was so tight, even just around my finger. Had my cock really fit in her? I stopped licking to concentrate on what my finger was doing and feeling: so tight, but a little spongy, letting me curl up the tip of my finger. I moved it in and out a little, and raised my head to watch. Hmm? Her little bump looked different now: more prominent, a little hood of skin trying to hide a pink little pearl. I twisted my hand in her, wiggling my finger tip. She responded with a chuckling moan; she liked that too. I glanced up at her face, and she nodded with grin, so I did that some more, again looking at her pussy. "Um-hmmmm!" she agreed, but then she demanded again: 

"Lick! There, like you were before."

She wanted that too; it must feel really good, arousing. I did. She moaned louder and exclaimed: 

"Yes! There! More! Don't stop!"

However it felt for her, I was doing what she wanted, making her moan. God, she was aroused! And it was arousing just to hear that she was. Her hips twitched up against my mouth. Even more aroused! When her hips twitched again, I realized that I had forgotten to fuck her with my finger and started again. She groaned, and her vagina squeezed my finger, like it had my cock. Was it being as arousing for her as when we had fucked?! Suddenly, I felt her hands grasp the back of my head, locking my mouth on her. No fear, sister, I won't stop until you want me to. 

Then her hips were twitching incessantly, as she moaned, more whimpering, gasping and whimpering, and her pussy was clutching my finger. Then suddenly, her whole body jerked, her hips almost rising of the bed, and her whimpers sounded more desperate, like a baby who just couldn't stop crying -- our little niece, when we had both been babysitting for her. 

Her body jerked and quivered, her thighs clapping together on her wrists. Finally, with a cry of "Oh God, enough!" she stilled, her thighs dropping down, her hands releasing my head. My hand was all wet from her pussy juice. My tired tongue relaxed, and I raised my head, looking up at her. 

She was still breathing deeply, moaning softly as she exhaled; her eyes closed. It looked like her face and chest were flushed. I had done it! My first time licking a pussy! I waited for her to recover. When her eyes finally opened, she gave me a tired smile, and then murmured: 

"Fuck! That was good! You did it!"

I nodded, returning her smile, and rose off my knees. The movement made me aware that my cock was bobbing. I glanced down and saw that I had an erection. It had been that arousing for me to give her an orgasm that way. She also glanced down, staring at my cock. Then she murmured: 

"Stick it in, fuck me!" 

She really wanted me to, wanted even more, could want even more?! While I hesitated, she murmured more emphatically: 

"Do it! Fuck me!" 

My insistent big sister! Before she demanded a third time ... 

I leaned down. I hardly had to help my cock find her so wet opening. My cock plunged into it, and she groaned. I dropped down over her on my elbows. 

"Fuck!" she demanded. I did, sliding my hands under her shoulders and grasping them to keep from shoving her back on the bed. "Harder, faster!" she demanded. 

Fuck! She really wanted it! If she did, fair enough, I rationalized; I had come four times and she just twice. Could I come a fifth time? Didn't matter, if I could make her come again. 

She was already moaning like she had before she started to whimper. I felt my loose balls slap against her ass, as my hips pounded against hers, her hands on my ass encouraging them, maybe making sure that I didn't slack off before she wanted me to, like when she had been holding my head. 

Damn! I had never had to work so hard to fulfill one of her demands! " Uhnnn!" But her pussy felt so good! And she was beginning to whimper again. Was she going to come again so soon? Fuck! Give it to her, her orgasm! Her hips were rocking up against mine. Come! 

She did again, her body convulsing under mine, as she gasped and whimpered, but now I was so aroused that I couldn't stop. Fuck! Not just do that. "Fuck," regardless of anything else! 

She moaned, sounding like she couldn't stand any more, but I couldn't stop; my cock wanted to come, wanted to spurt again in her pussy. I was just the machine to pump it in her pussy and let it, to pump as long as it needed. I did, "the machine," oblivious of anything other than the sensations on my cock in her pussy.

But then her moans sounded more aroused, and her hips began again to rock up, when mine pounded on them. I wasn't just "the machine," now again aware of her. She was wanting to fuck again, to have even another orgasm? Oooh! Her thighs drawn up, clutching my waist, her heels on my ass! Yeah, fuck! Come again! I think my cock can, if your pussy wants it to. 

Her pussy did, my cock did, as we gasped and groaned: grunted and whimpered. I collapsed on her, exhausted. Our stomachs rose and fell against each other. When I could think again, my first thought was: five times, only four for her; I owed her one, but it would have to be with my tongue again, just my tongue, even if she demanded again that I fuck her. 

Her thighs had dropped down. Finally, she murmured: 

"You're too heavy," nothing about whether it had been good, whether she had liked that I had given her two more orgasms.

I rolled off her, drawing my thigh up over her hips and resting my hand on her breast. She nodded, but was still silent, and I was too. What should I say, what could I say? Better nothing; leave it to my older sister to say something; it had been her idea that we should fuck again. 

We lay there. Finally, she muttered: 

"Maybe I should just said that I wanted to suck it. I did, but then, well, I wanted that."

"It did too. I was just very surprised."

"Hmm? I guess so. Didn't know that I could want it again, but, well, you didn't stop. Guess you couldn't, and then I did." 

"Something like that.."

We both chuckled. I squeezed her breast. She put her hand on mine with chuckle, holding my fingers still, and said: 

"Don't start anything; that was enough."

"It sure was."

We were silent again, and then heard the church bell strike four o'clock. She chuckled and remarked: 

"Mom had better not call again. If I can't suck it, I want another beer."

"Me too. You really do taste so good, but now I want one too." 

We chuckled and sat up. She felt between her legs and gave me a wry smile and said: 

"We're going to have a wash a lot of sheets, if we keep doing this."

"If you want to; I do." 

"Me too," she agreed.

We smiled at each other and nodded, and went to the kitchen. I got two beers, and we drank, deeply, smiling at each other again. We drank again, looking at each other, and finished our beers without saying anything more. When I took hers from her, I suggested that we would need more beer. She nodded with a slight smirk and replied: 

"To wash down what I still want to do."

"Mmmm! I hope so!"

"Um-hmm. Guess we have to put something on, if we want to buy more beer."

"I scowled, then grinned, replying: 

"I'll just sit in the car and let you buy it."

"Naked?!" 

"I guess not, but that was what I was thinking."

"You would. No, both of us in clothes." 

We nodded and went in her room, where all our clothes were. 

"Bra or no bra?" she asked. 

"Hmm? To distract the guy from asking for ID? Or to look more adult?"

"Probably better with, and wearing something that doesn't remind me that you were holding my thigh and I was unbuttoning that blouse to show you my nipples."

"Nice that you remembered. Yeah."

She put on her bra and found something that didn't look so much like a high school girl. We had no trouble buying the beer, four six packs. When the salesman looked questioningly at me, she said that I was just her little brother, along to help carry for her party. 

Back home, we glanced at each other, both plucking at a button, and took off our clothes again, in her room. When she started to put away what she had been wearing and the what she had had on in the morning, I grinned and took my clothes to my room and put them away. That settled that we would spend the evening and Sunday naked. I was a little surprised when we met in the living room and she had a pool towel and spread it on the sofa. She nodded with shrug and remarked: 


A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 02



"Just in case something happens and I leak again."

"Not if I can lick it up."

"Hmm! Maybe if I'm just thinking about." 

"Just tell me. Hm-hmm! And don't think about it at work in the library."

"Hadn't thought of that. Maybe I will." 

We grinned. Somehow we managed to read the newspaper without thinking about it - not too much - until it was time to prepare dinner, Mom's next menu. In the kitchen, she did most of the cooking. 

Are teenagers insatiable, even after all we had done? It seemed like it. I rubbed her ass at every available opportunity, and she chuckled and hummed. 

This was all nothing like anything I had imagined with a girl, assuming the first time would be embarrassing fumbling in the dark somewhere - car, wherever -- and then maybe more relaxed a second time, but still fairly dark in her room. I couldn't imagined "her" being in my room, our house. But we would still be shy about seeing each other naked with the light turned on, blatantly accepting that we were doing something we shouldn't be. This sure wasn't like that! We had started in broad daylight, and were siblings! 

After I had set the table, and rubbed my hips against hers, letting her feel that my cock was a little aroused, she reach back and fondled it. She did complain, when I then reached around her and fondled her breasts, arousing her nipples, telling me that something on the stove would burn, if I kept doing that up. I relented, but let her feel on her hip that my cock was a little more "up." Yes, teenagers are insatiable, and we were not shy of blatantly accepting that we were doing something we shouldn't be. 

We proved that after dinner with another beer. At her instance, we managed to clean up in the kitchen, with more fondling. When we had finished, we grinned at each other with expectant expressions. She snorted with warm hum and said: 

"I still want to. Hm-hmm! Dessert, if you can."

"And if I can't, just try."

We went in the living room and I sat down. She did, not just having to "try," and I did -- my cock. 

I could only hope that her having her pussy licked had been as arousing as my having my cock sucked. 

She knelt between my legs and looked at my already swelling cock. I felt her fingers come up under my balls, fondling them gently. She snorted and glanced up at me and murmured: 

"Maybe I can suck them too." 

That was a new idea for me, a nice new idea. I nodded with a smile. She looked back down at my cock, that was about to lift up. I saw her lick her lips. "Mmmm!" She was going to be able to lick my cock where she knew it was most sensitive! My cock rose up. She hummed with a nod, then murmured: 

"Guess I'll have to start another time, when it's all soft."

"Seems unlikely, but I hope so too."

She nodded, her eyes fastened on my cock, that rose further. Her fingers fondle my balls for a moment, and then she lowered her head. Her lips slipped around the head of my cock. It twitch, just from feeling her lip touch it there. She hummed in response, and then her lips were closed around the shaft of my cock, and the tip of her tongue was tickling there, making my cock twitch even stronger. She knew what she was doing to me! She sucked, her head dropping further to let my cock slip deeper in her mouth to fill the vacuum in it. But she wanted to lick it there again, drawing her head up and finding the little ridge of skin with her tongue.

I moaned, and she moaned. That felt so good too, the vibration of her moan on my cock! I moaned again, a long, aroused, appreciative, encouraging moan. After that it was just too good, too good for me to describe! She sucked and licked, humming, apparently just wanting my cock to come in her mouth. It want to too, but I hoped that she understood that it was going to take longer than the times she had made it shoot with her hand. For me, it was very arousingly enjoyable, the anticipation. Did she enjoy suck my cock as much as I had enjoyed licking her pussy? Was her doing it as arousing for her as it had been for me?! 

I was moaning, and she was moaning. We both wanted it. Her finger gave up on fondling my balls, my sack now just a tight ball around them. When my hips twitched, thrusting my cock deeper in her mouth, she grasped it and moved her hand with her bobbing head, grasped it as tight as her pussy did. My hips were rocking, fucking her in her mouth and hand! 

She wanted it! I groaned, and my cock gave it to her. She almost hurt me when her jaw clamped around my cock. Of course, a reflex from her having to swallow. It had been that much, that strong, spurting back in her throat?! She didn't have to taste that one, but the couple that followed. But when she drew her head back a little, I felt her tongue swill my semen around in her mouth. "Uhn!" her tongue touching my cock again, there where it was now overly sensitive. 

She moaned. That still felt good. The tip of her tongue touched my cock there again. I almost heard her swallow, as her mouth closed tighter on my cock. She moaned again. She had liked it? She couldn't have liked it as much as I had. 

She licked again and raised her eyes and looked at me, nodding slightly. Can a girl smile with a cock still in her mouth? It looked like she was. I moaned and nodded. She moaned and nodded, then raised her head. My softening cock dropped down. She smiled and asked: 

"Did you like that as much as I did?"

"As much as I liked licking your pussy?"

Hm-hmm! That too. Hope so. I meant, coming that way as much as I liked to make you come."

"Same thing. I hope so, especially that you really did."

"Mmmm! I did. Hm-hmm! Didn't taste as strange any more."

"Hm-hmm! Better than Dad's 'stinky cheese'?" 

"A lot better!" 

That was a family joke. Our father liked a European cheese that really tasted strange. 

Vicky rose up with a pleased expression, then reached down between her thighs. She scowled and then grinned, remarking: 

"I'm all wet. Oooh, down my thigh. Hope I didn't drip." 

"Like I was, not dripping. Just don't insist that I fuck you now."

"Hm-hmm! Good thing you said that before it occurred to me to suggesting it."

We grinned and then laughed. Whatever she or I thought about what we were doing -- what we had done all day -- it was too good to worry about that. 

We watched something on TV, curled up together, and went to bed in her room. I was a little surprised that she faced the wall as I joined her, understanding that we weren't going to do anything more, just because we were in bed together. I curled up behind with my arm around her, my hand holding her breast. We said good night and thanked each other for a very nice day -- with no chuckles. She put her hand on mine, and we fell asleep. 

I almost fell out of bed when I rolled back during the night, waking up, then for a couple of moments very surprised, until I remembered why I was in bed with her. As I moved to get comfortable on my back, Vicky rolled back, half on me. Apparently, she also hadn't been fully awake and was then also surprised, murmuring: 

"Oh? Yeah. Hmm? Hm-hmm. Hi."

"Um-hmm, hi," I replied. 

She turned over, lying facing me, with her hand and arm on my chest, then chuckled softly and murmured again: 

"Nice, just kind of narrow, my bed." 

"Um-hmm. Like in some English or Scottish folksong, the girl singing about her 'virgin's bed'."

"Mmmm! I'm not a one any more."

"Nor I," I agreed. 

Her hand slid over my chest and hugged me, and she drew her thigh up over mine. 

"Very nice," I murmured, and we went back to sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, for a moment I was again surprised, realizing that a hand rubbing my side had wakened me. Vicky must have seen me open my eyes; she murmured: 

"Awake? Good morning."

"Good morning. You too?"

"For a few minutes, enjoying waking up like this," and she hugged me. 

"Nice, very nice. Guess I said that last night."

"Um-hmm, you did, and about my 'virgin's bed'. I liked that, that I'm not one any more."

"Me too, that you aren't, that I'm not."

"Funny, how it happened. I guess we must have wanted to. When I mentioned the book, I sure wasn't thinking we would."

"Really? I was wondering."

"Really. Hmm? Kind of silly now to believe that it didn't occur to me."

"Very silly! What else could occur to us, looking at those pictures?" 

"Yes, 'very silly'. Why was I wanting to look at them with you, how could I have been wanting to, without that occurring to me?"

"Virginal innocence?" 

"Hmm! What were you thinking when I suggested we look at the book?"

"Hoping you wouldn't notice that my cock was aroused."

"It was already, in the car?"

"More than I wanted it to be, well, more than I wanted you to notice."

"Hmm? Yeah, must have been virginal innocence; that that didn't occur to me."

"Just as well, else you might have decided not to share the pictures with me." 

"Hm-hmm! Maybe! Glad I did." 

"Me too!" 

I felt her thighs twitch, and she murmured: 

"Oooh! I've got to go!" and flung the covers back and began to clamber over me. 

I did too then, of course, and followed her. She was going to be surprised to see my mild morning woody. She looked up from the toilet at it with a grin and asked: 

"Like that already? We were just talking."

"When guys have to go in the morning, not what you're thinking." 

She feigned a scowl, then nodded and replied: 

"Just as well; we couldn't have, if we both had to go." 

I nodded. She wiped her pussy and stood up, raised the ring for me, and waited to watch me go, chuckling at how I had to hold my cock down to aim at the toilet. When I had, I shook my cock demonstrably for her to see. This was being fun. I had always assumed that couples would be more private about using the bathroom - my virginal innocence. But it was gone. When Vicky said that she was going to take her shower, I immediately grinned. She grinned back with a shrug and said: "Both of us, together?" 

"What occurred to me." 

She glanced at our shower stall and said: 

"Theirs is bigger," referring to the one in our parents' bathroom.

"Um-hmm! Oh, I have to shave."

She nodded and rubbed my stubble, then grinned and said: 

"Before you do that again. Hm-hmm! I thought stubble burn was just on girls' cheeks."

"Back when you were a virgin."

"Um-hmm!" she agreed. 

We collected our towels and washcloths and my shaving gear, and went to our parent's bathroom, through their bedroom. She glanced at the double bed and murmured: 

"They're not virgins," glancing at me.

"Or we wouldn't be here."

"We aren't either." 

We didn't need to have brought our washcloths. In the shower, we wanted to wash each other with our bare hands, and had fun doing it. While I was more than washing her breasts, she was more than just washing my cock and balls, snickering when she had my cock stiff. I also snickered and said: 

"If you always want to do that, you're never going to be able start sucking it, when it's all soft and small."

"Oh, thanks for reminding me. Hm-hmm! Have to do that before you know I'm wanting to." 

"Could be difficult; have to surprise me."

"I'll try to. Wash my pussy."

I did, more than just washing it, of course. She hummed, turning her hip towards me, apparently understanding that it was easier for my fingers to explore between her pussy lips that way. They did, one of them not just between her pussy lips. She moaned, nodding, as it rubbed in her vagina. 

I really don't know how the soapy fingers of my other hand found their way into the crevice between the cheeks of her ass, but they did, they had, rubbing below the base of her spine. She chuckled and rocked her pelvis, inviting my finger in her pussy to rub and inviting my other fingers to rub further down. They were rubbing over her asshole before I really recognized it, only realizing where they were, when it moved and she started slightly and exclaimed softly: 

"Oooh! There?" 

My fingers held still. She snorted and murmured: 

"You want to wash it?"

"Just happened, saw it yesterday." 

"You did? Hmm? I guess so. Felt funny."

"Didn't look like however I thought it would."

"Hm-hmm! If you want to, felt funny." 

I rubbed it again, feeling it tighten -- oh! -- and feeling her vagina tighten on my finger. She chuckled with a hum and murmured: 

"Do it some more." 

I did, enjoying feeling it twitch under my fingers, and that she seemed to like the sensation. She did, humming, then murmuring again: 

"Feels more than 'funny,' another erogenous zone." 

I hadn't heard that expression, but I immediately understood its meaning, wondering if the book mentioned something about assholes. Vicky turned towards me, my hand sliding out of her crevice, and looked up at me and said: 

"Don't know about that, but it felt good. Do we have to wash our feet?" 

We did, raising them up for each other to wash. I was wondering if it would feel good for me, if she rubbed my asshole; assholes were pretty much identical for males and females. I resisted the temptation to tickle the soles of her feet. We finished our shower and dried ourselves, shrugging and smirking. When I turned to shave, she said that she would start breakfast. 

"A big one, scrambled eggs with ham," I replied.

"An omelette with ham and cheese?"

"Even better!"

She left, and I shaved, thinking about her remark about stubble burn. When I had finished, I gathered up all our things and returned with them to our bathroom. When I joined her in the kitchen, she gave me a smile and said: 

"We can leave our things in theirs. Been thinking about it. If we can't put theirs back where they were, we can say that we used both bathrooms in the morning, so that we didn't have to take turns in ours."

"Clever! Hope they don't mind."

"Why should they? They want us to work, our jobs, both have to get up early."

"Like we did for school." 

"Hmm?! Hope they don't think about that."

"Have to try to remember where their things were." 

"If they notice, we just have to tell that we once did, in a hurry one morning." 

"Clever enough, if you tell them." 

She nodded, and soon we were eating her big omelette, with bread and lots of jam. I offered to clean up, since she had made breakfast. She said that she would get the Sunday paper, and went off, having to throw on a summer dress to go to the mailbox. She returned with the paper, pulling off her dress in the kitchen with a snicker and saying: 

"Hope the neighbor didn't know that I didn't have on anything else."

"He probably wished he had. You could have let him think so."

"Hm-hmm! I almost did, wanting to shake my boobies for him to see."

"Wicked!"

"Um-hmm! What are we going to do now?"

"Read the paper, sunbathe."

"Can't in that corner of the patio till this afternoon."

"Hmm?! Just fuck around?" 

"Oooh! What made you think of that?"

"One track male mind, but I was just joking." 

"Pity! 'Fucking around': is that doing it different ways, or with different people, everyone else at a party?"

She smirked at me. I feigned a surprised expression. Well, it wasn't really feigned; she had surprised me, but I liked the way she had. I then feigned a serious, thoughtful expression, searching for an appropriate, witty reply. The church bell started ring for the early service. I grinned and replied: 

"If you want 'fucking around' to be a party this early in the morning, I think everyone is in church."

She grinned, nodding, and agreed: 

"Of course, all the wicked people who wished they could 'fuck around' like that."

"Maybe they did last night, but you just weren't there."

"Oh, last night, I was a real good girl. Oh, I was naked in bed with a guy, who was also naked, but we didn't do anything, so that was all right." 

We both grinned, enjoying our bantering. We were nominally Roman Catholics. I hummed with a smirk and replied: 

"That's good, but if you had gone to confession before you went to bed?"

"Ooooh!" Don't ask me! Hm-hmm! If I had told the priest - had had to tell him ..."

"He'd have wished he'd been at the party," I interjected.

"Hmm! Um-hmm, if I had thought to make it sound like it was with different guys."

"Wicked, lying in confession."

"So 'fucking around' is doing it every way we can think of?"

"Like I said, I was just joking, thinking it was doing anything else we didn't want to mention."

She grinned and replied: 

"If you have a male's one track mind, that sounds like the same thing." 

"Don't girls have a one track minds?"

"Haven't asked any. ... Oh, lots of them do, especially Friday and Saturday evenings."

"Oh, that's good, as long as they don't Sunday morning, when they should be in church."

"Hm-hmm! I'm not!" 

"You should be."

"You too." 

"Not without going to confession."

"We won't."

"We sure won't! Read the paper!" 

Even though it was obvious that we both knew we had been hinting about doing something, maybe something we hadn't yet - whatever that could be - we sorted out the sections of the newspaper that we preferred and sat down to read, she on the towel on the sofa; I, on our father's arm chair. 

I diligently started with the first section: politics, major news. After Vicky opened her section, I saw that she was reading the society section. Fairly quickly, I moved on to the sports section. Normally, I would have watched the sports news on TV and caught up on the baseball results Saturday evening, so I was especially interested in that. I was very surprised when I felt my knees being shoved apart, but then immediately recognized that Vicky had only been waiting for the opportunity to surprise me, like she had said in the shower. I jerked the paper up and saw her kneeling between my legs, her hand about to fondle my balls. She looked up with a grin and said: "Surprise!" 

When we had been kids, she had often surprised me, but rather like Lucy's surprising Peanuts in the cartoons, another older sister. They could be a pain, but I was sure Vicky wasn't going to be one for me. I hummed with a grin and flung the sports section aside, only worried that my cock would know what I was anticipating before she could start sucking it. 

She didn't wait to let it. Her fingers slid up past my sack and raised it. Without another glance at me, she lowered her head. My soft cock disappeared in her wide open mouth -- all of it -- her nose in my pubic hair. If the wicked people in church knew what she was doing?! Worse, the less wicked ones!! 

Her tongue was rubbing on the soft shaft of my cock, as she sucked. She hummed, feeling that it was less soft. I felt that the head of my cock was moving deeper in her mouth. She hummed and pressed my cock up against her pallet. Did she want me also to feel it moving on it, moving further back on it? She wanted to feel that, sucking, letting it. I could understand that; my tongue was moving in my mouth, as I imagined how my cock felt in hers. I didn't want to suck a cock, but I was full of empathy with her wanting to, at least, especially mine! I moaned. 

The head of my cock was sliding down the curve of the back of her pallet. She gave a short "uhn," and raised her head a little, and then further; my cock was growing to its aroused, full length. She raised her head further, glancing up at me with as much of a smile as a cock-sucking girl could, and then raised her head enough that her tongue could rub where she knew it felt most arousing for me. 

There were girls who sucked cocks and didn't want taste what would happen when they licked there? They didn't lick there? Poor, frustrated guys! My anticipation of knowing that Vicky did made it so arousing! 

But she suddenly raised her head, letting my swollen cock bob in cool air. Her fingers were massaging my balls in my sack, which wasn't as slack as it had been. She glanced up at me with smirk and said: 




A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 02



"You didn't want to come yet, did you?!" 

"Like fuck I didn't!" 

"Hmm! That's a good idea too, but I want to try to suck your balls, one of them."

"Just don't bite it off; I need it."

"I do too," she replied with a grin, and crouched lower. 

She had some difficulty pressing one in her mouth, since my sack had started to draw up, but then she had it, her mouth closing around it. She hummed at her success, and I moaned at the sensation of feeling the vibrations on my ball, and again, at feeling her tongue caressing it. I saw clear drops oozing out of the head of my cock and reached down and wiped up a couple and licked my fingers. She had been right, that tasted good.

Was sucking balls in the book? Had she read more than she had admitted, or was it an original idea of hers? Did my sister have such ideas all by herself? She hadn't seen another man's cock and balls, well, in classical paintings, but they didn't look like they could suggest that a girl suck them. 

My ball popped out of her mouth, and she grasped my cock, murmuring: 

"Nice, but now I want it." 

Half my cock disappeared in her mouth, and her tongue immediately found it. I moaned. What could be better, more arousing than hearing a girl say that she wanted to suck my cock until it shot all it could in her mouth?! 

Nothing! Maybe guys whose girls didn't suck their cocks, thought fucking was the ultimate. Maybe it was. That had sure been good, both ways Vicky and I had done it! But this was just so good, not having to do anything -- but hope that I could postpone my orgasm as long as possible to enjoy my anticipation of it as long as I could. And the pleasure of just sitting there like some kind of pasha watching her doing it, but I wasn't, and she wasn't a harem girl who had to do it: my sister, wanting to do for her own pleasure. 

That she was my sister wasn't so important, really wasn't, but I couldn't imagine any other girl's wanting to suck my cock with her enthusiasm and curiosity, taking the initiative to start when my cock had been all small and soft. 

"Mmmm!" and she did it so good! Too good for me to hope it would last much longer, but she wanted it; when I came, she wanted it in her mouth, all of it, surely more than before, after I had come so many times. Was she anticipating, hoping that I would come as much as I had the first time she had made me with her hand? My hips were twitching. She was going to find out -- and soon! 

My hips had already begun to rock up at intervals; she knew what was going to happen. How much more was it going to be than the previous evening? How little had that been after all my other orgasms? I tried to hold my hips still, moaning, but then couldn't control them -- didn't want to any longer. I let them do what they wanted, moaning, now groaning, louder. My cock thrust deeper in her mouth, and she made a gagging noise and grasped it. Now!! 

I grunted and came! And how I came! She also grunted in surprise and almost bit my cock, drawing her head back a little, then moaning, as I spurting again and again. God, it was good! It had been so good before, but this was being even better, and so much! 

I had to hold her head still. She nodded, and then I felt her sloshing it around in her mouth. Her mouth must be full of it. I hope that she really liked it. She must, still sloshing it around, nodding slightly with a chuckling moan. She looked up at me, nodding again. 

Finally, she raised her head, having to lick her lips, as she looked up at me. She hummed and said: "God, that was a lot! I thought it was last night, but this really was, and a lot thicker. I guess more like the first time, yesterday morning."

"It sure felt like it; hope you didn't mind."

"Not after the first shot. I just had to swallow it. Sorry, if I bit you."

"Sorry, if I thrust too far back in your throat."

"Almost." 

She looked back down at my sinking cock and chuckled, raising it up and murmuring: 

"Nice cock, you liked that?" 

She licked around its head and kissed it, then looked back up at me with a grin. I chuckled and replied: 

"I think I can say that he did." 

We both laughed. She rose up and shoved her knees between my hips and the arms of the chair. I grasped her ass; she wrapped her arms around my head, and we kissed. When we had retrieved our tongues, she grinned and said: 

"Next time I'll try to save some for you to taste."

"Just try? You really like it?" 

"Better than before. Yeah, I guess I really like it, and I love to do it."

"Lucky me, and lucky whomever else."

She looked at me with serious expression, nodding slightly. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned her sucking some other guy's cock. Then she smiled wryly, nodding again, and then replied: 

"I hope so. Hm-hmm! Just afraid ..., well, I guess I'll have to wait, not surprise him by wanting to do it before he expects that I might want to. Don't want him to think that I have so much experience." 

"Yeah, maybe. You don't; just done it twice, and were a virgin twenty-four hours ago."

"Hm-hmm! A very long twenty-four hours, and a very long four weeks, if we keep doing this."

"As often as you want, well, as often as I can." 

"Mmmm! That's good!"

We kissed again to seal our agreement. As our tongues were caressing, I wondered if a lot of kissing and pussy licking made tongue muscles stronger; it sounded like mine were going to get a lot of training. 

She sat back and grinned at me. I grinned back, wondering if a new thought had made her grin. One had; she asked: 

"You liked my pussy? Did it look like the one in that picture?"

"Better! In full technicolor, well, just in all shades of pink. I loved it, but that should have been evident." 

"Oh, it was. I don't know what the text in the book tells, advices, but it doesn't seem like we need to read it." 

"No! A picture is worth a thousand words. Hmmm! Especially the one that made you start unbutton your blouse. You really didn't know why you took off your bra?"

"Hmm? I really don't think so. Sure glad that I did."

"Me too. Hm-hmm! I had been wondering about your nipples - pink or beige."

"Pink." 

We looked down at them, popped out. 

"Just like I hoped," I murmured. 

"Pink, or stiff?" she asked with a grin. 

"Both."

"Same pink as my pussy?" She rocked her hips on my thighs.

"Want to see it?"

"Oh, that's a good idea. Hope Mom didn't take her hand mirror with her." 

She stood up, and we went to our parents' bedroom. She found the hand mirror and looked at me in it with a grin, then held it down between her legs. She looked back at me and then nodded at their double bed. Of course, she was going to have to lie down and spread her legs to look at her pussy in the mirror and see it like I could. I nodded, and we moved to turn down the bedspread, standing across from each other at the head of the bed. After we had folded it back off the pillows and pulled it down to the foot of the bed, she looked up at me with a slight smirk and said: 

"We're not virgins." 

I must have raised my eyebrows questioningly; I hadn't understand why she had said that. She chuckled and said: 

"Better than our virginal beds." 

"Hmm!? You want to sleep in theirs?"

"It just occurred to me. Why not?" 

"And their sheets?" 

"We can use others. Have to wash them, anyway. Put theirs back on the bed before they return."

"You really want to?" I replied. I could be dense sometimes, despite her so logical suggestion. 

"Like with their towels." 

"If you want to," I agreed, returning her grin. 

"Don't fold them," she commanded. 

We loosely folded the bedspread back and placed it along the wall on the floor under the window, the sheets following, then their pillows, when Vicky said that we could use ours. We got fresh sheets for the double bed and tucked in the bottom sheet, she telling me that we had learned to do it the way Mom did, the way we would have to replace their sheets. 

We fetched our pillows. One of us could have gotten both of them, but apparently we wanted to stay together. On the way back to their room, she suddenly grinned and said: 

"We're thinking this is too complicated, the sheets and towels; we'll just wash them all and tell them, remake the bed, and don't have to worry about everything being like it was." 

"Clever, could have thought of that before," I agreed with a smile. 

By then, I had almost forgotten that we were naked and why we had been remaking our parents' bed. When Vicky found the hand mirror again and grinned at me, I remembered, of course, seeing her nipples pop out. She dropped down on the bed - now our bed -- and spread her legs, holding the mirror down between them, then drawing her thighs up. She gave me a grin and looked back at the mirror, tilting it to see her pussy. She hummed and let her thighs flop apart. Her pussy wasn't as open as I had seen, but she smiled and said: 

"Nice and pink," giving me a glance and adding: "like you said."

"Um-hmm," I agreed, then chuckled and said: 

"Maybe a little darker pink, after I had been licking it."

"Oooh! That's an idea, and then I can look again."

"Hm-hmm! Only if I let you. Mmmm! Then it looks real good, something too good to eat to just look at." 

"If it looks that good, I won't complain, if you don't want to let me see it."

"Hm-hmm! Like your just wanting to try to save some for me to taste."

"Mmmm! I will, if you remind me." 

"And if you remind me."

"More difficult; I only have to remember after you come, but have to remind you, while I'm still wanting to."

"Maybe -- just maybe -- I can remember to let you." 

"And if not this time ..." 

She was also hoping that my tongue muscles were going to be in shape for what promised to be many races - not races; we wanted them to last as long as possible. She had laid the mirror aside, rocking her thighs invitingly. When I dropped to my knees, I felt my cock bob. Was she going to want me to fuck her again? 

She did. I licked her pussy. Before I put a finger in her, I remembered to let her look at it. She grabbed the mirror again and did, remarking: 

"Oooh! You're right: darker pink. And it looks like that?" 

She reached down with her other hand and rubbed a finger on the little hood over her pink pearl, and moaned, then remarking softly: 

"That's what I always do."

"Kind of told me, yesterday: 'there, like that'." 

"Um-hmmm! There, like that!"

She whipped the mirror aside and rocked her hips. I didn't need her telling me again what she wanted. My tongue was 'there', and my finger fucking in her vagina. She did insist that she wanted two in it, then moaning, as I shoved another one in, thinking that if she wanted two fingers in her so tight pussy this time, for sure, she was going to want my cock in it again. 

She did. After the palm of my hand was full of her pussy juice, she muttered: "Now fuck me again."

It wasn't an insistent demand, just the confirmation of what I had expected her to want, and what my cock wanted to do. I was confident that I would be able to come again, and her pussy just wanted my cock in it. We just wanted to fuck, not desperately like before. I was leaning over her, holding her shoulders like I had. We kissed. She wanted me to suck her nipples. I did, making her moan. Maybe I sucked and nibbled on the first one a little too energetically -- it was so delightful to have in my mouth. When her moan became complaining groan, I tried to be more gently with the other one. I wasn't really fucking, just enjoying moving my cock a little and feeling her pussy hold it tighter occasionally. 

Then we kissed again. When her hips rocked, I began to fuck harder. Then we both wanted to come, our hips slapping together, her hands on my ass, her thighs drawn up further, clutching my waist. We were gasping and moaning too much to keep our tongues in contact. 

We came, my cock spurting again, her pussy wetting my hair with her warm pussy juice. I collapsed on her, not as tired as I had been before, enjoying feeling our stomachs rising and falling against each other, as we moaned with sighs. Funny, breathing in different rhythms, sometimes our stomachs both pressing together, then out of phase, one pressing as the other relaxed. 

As we recovered, I almost expected it when she rubbed my back and murmured: 

"You're so heavy." 

I nodded and drew in my elbows, that had slid aside, and rose up. We smiled at each other, nodding. She suddenly snorted with a grin and asked: 

"Think they do it as good as we do?"

"Hmm?! I sure hope so. At least, it was good enough for us to be here, but that is something else."

"It sure is. Shit! I would hate to know what's like for girls who do without the pill or rubbers."

"Frightening!" 

"Um-hmm, very!"

I rolled off her. We both moved back to get our legs on the bed. She chuckled and said: 

"Nice, big bed - for non-virgins."

"Big fucking bed." 

"Fucking big bed," she replied with a grin. 

We rolled together, embracing, quickly discovering that it was nice to let our thighs overlap. The church bells rang. Vicky chuckled and remarked: 

"And if we go to hell, I can't think of a better way to spend a Sunday morning."

"Hmm! 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.'"

We chuckled, hugging each other. Vicky chuckled again and said: 

"Okay, maybe I had one, thinking it was a good idea for us to know to know something about sex."

"Couldn't have been a worse one, except that's being so good."

"One of those 'good intentions?" she suggested.

"One probably good enough to get us there without any others." 

She nodded. That was as close as we ever got to referring to the immorality of our incestuous relationship.



A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 03



We rolled together, embracing, quickly discovering that it was nice to let our thighs overlap. The church bells rang. Vicky chuckled and remarked: 

"And if we go to hell, I can't think of a better way to spend a Sunday morning."

"Hmm! 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.'"

We chuckled, hugging each other. Vicky chuckled again and said: 

"Okay, maybe I had one, thinking it was a good idea for us to know to know something about sex."

"Couldn't have been a worse one, except that's being so good."

"One of those 'good intentions?" she suggested.

"One probably good enough to get us there without any others." 

She nodded. That was as close as we ever got to referring to the immorality of our incestuous relationship. 

"Pillow?" she asked. I nodded, and she reached out and grabbed one, shoving it under our heads, and we dozed off in our so comfortable embrace. When we woke up and started fixing dinner, maybe we were a little subdued by thoughts about our immorality. I had them, and she only smiled mildly at me, neither of us touching each other. I wondered if we were really going to continue the sexual activity the way we had started. It sure didn't seem that we needed any more experience to know what it was all about. 

We had dinner with beers, just toasting each other with smiles. I complimented her cooking. She said that I should try to make the next warm meal, offering to help. I agreed. We finished our meal and cleaned up. When I looked at her, appreciating her nice naked figure, I wondered if I had begun to forget about the immorality, or whether it was because the satisfaction from having had two orgasms was wearing off. When she turned and gave me a smile, her nipples popping out when I looked at them, I decided that I had probably been right both ways. 

We finished in the kitchen and returned to the living room, now entirely comfortable with being naked there. I glanced at the towel on the sofa, remembering that she had put it there in case she "leaked" - not on the towel, if I could lick it up. Fuck the immorality, I thought, then recognizing the too appropriate double meaning of the word. I smiled to myself.

Vicky glanced at me, seeing my smile, and nodded with a smile. She didn't know why I had smiled, and I was surprised when I remarked: 

"You're the sexiest girl I know."

Then, of course, I knew why I had said that. She grinned with erect nipples and replied: 

"I certainly hope so. Better than Playmates?"

"Much! And not just because they are only pictures."

We grinned. To hell with worrying about immorality! 

"Peepee and get our towels again; we can go back in the sun. Hm-hmm! And if you want, you can dream about girls in bikinis." 

"If you look better than naked girls in Playboy?"

"Flattering will get you everywhere!"

"Anywhere I haven't been?"

"I doubt it; just everywhere you have been."

We chuckled with grins and went and peed and got our towels. At the door to the patio, we checked that no one was looking and returned to our deckchairs. She shove hers back next to mine, closer than it had been. This time, she immediately spread her thighs and chuckled, remarking softly: 

"Tell me if my pussy tans."

"Hope not; it's so pretty pink the way it is."

"Hm-hmm! Just close your eyes."

"My tongue is color sensitive."

"Hmmm! Mine isn't."

We chuckled. I reached over and fondled her breast. She hummed and said: 

"Hope your tongue doesn't mind if my nipples tan."

"Have to ask it, when it finds out, if they do." 

"I bet it doesn't mind." 

"I'm sure it won't," I agreed, rubbing her nipple and removing my hand from her breast.

We chuckled again and were silent for a while, the sun warming my cock and balls. I jostled my balls to loosen my sack from the skin of my thighs. Vicky chuckled and asked: 

"Feels good?"

"Um-hmm."

We were silent again, and I wondered how it felt on a girl's pussy, if it somehow responded like my now long cock, then wondering how girls learn what felt good. For boys, that was obvious. I could ask my sister. 

"Uh, how do you do it to yourself, like, how did you find out to?"

"Hmm? I guess for guys that's easy."

"Um-hmm!" 

"Don't have to ask you. ... Well, our nipples stick out, too, and that feels good. I guess that's how I started, tickling them, but then it wasn't just tickling. Hm-hmm! That's what I usually do now, well, before yesterday, lie in bed, arousing them, until I know I just have to rub my pussy, there, where I like you to lick it. 

"Well, of course, I was thinking about guys. Hadn't seen a cock, but last year felt a couple, just dancing close, and of course, I knew the facts of life, that my arousing myself was about fucking. Oh, it felt pretty good, at least I thought so, not knowing how much better it could feel. And that if was about that, of course, I tried putting a finger in. Hm-hmm! That was better, when I got it in. Then I started using both hands. Wished I had had a third one to pinch my nipples. Till then, I really didn't have anything to visualize, just some kind of idea of a guy lying on me with his cock in my pussy, naked of course. 

"Then I found that book a few weeks ago and peeked at the pictures. I only checked it out last week. Oooh! That was what an aroused cock looked like! And so big! My pussy was real tight on just one finger, but if a cock was ever going to fit in it, two fingers, at least. I probably should have waited until I was really aroused before trying to get a second one in, but then it was. Mmmm! Two fingers can move more than one. Did I have a real orgasm? It was a lot better than what had happened before. Oh, I guess I did, and then had ideas from the few pictures I had seen to give me more to think about. Hm-hm-hmm! Been practicing a lot since then. Yeah, sure I did – have an orgasm – but it wasn't anything like what we've done, both ways! 

"God, that was arousing yesterday, even before it was in me!"

"It sure was! I was afraid I would come as soon as it was. Good thing that you had already just made me."

"I was just afraid that it wouldn't fit, that I couldn't get it all the way in; yeah, all the way, so much further in than my fingers." 

"You did; you could," I replied, aware that my cock was trying to rise off my balls. 

I glanced over and saw that she was holding one of her breasts. Nice, that we were both a little aroused from her telling. She nodded and continued: 

"God, that was good, and this morning too. I just love to feel your cock in me. It just belongs there, well, I guess not necessarily yours. A pussy just wants to feel a cock in it." 

"Not more that a cock wants to feel that it is."

"Um-hmm! I really liked that this morning, just knowing it was there, hardly moving for a while. That was so good, just enjoying that it was in me, kind of relaxed, aroused, of course, but we knew we didn't have to do more ..."

"Not yet," I interjected. She turned her head with a smile, nodding, agreeing: 

"Not yet, but we knew we would ..." 

"When we couldn't help but."

"Mmmm! And that it would be as good as we wanted." 

"It sure was, just like that." 

We smiled at each other. Then she glanced down my body and snorted, asking: 

"Who told your cock to eavesdrop?"

I didn't need to raise my head to know why she had asked, but did, seeing it defying gravity, pointing at the top of shrubbery at the edge of our lawn. I chuckled and replied: 

"Maybe I shouldn't have asked."

"Oh, it surprised me a little, but then I enjoyed telling you, also the last part. I liked that."

"I did too, especially 'cause I was feeling the same way."

We smiled at each other again, nodding. Then she said: 

"Before they get sunburned, maybe we should turn over, ... if you can."

"I think so." 

We chuckled and lowered the backs of our deckchairs. She watched me hold my cock up against my stomach as I lay down again, chuckling again and murmuring: 

"Don't hurt it; I need it." 

We lay flat on our stomachs, our heads down, facing each other. When her hand touched mine, we held hands, each nodding slightly with a soft "um-hmm," and were silent again. I thought my cock would relax a little, and it did, until she squeezed my hand and murmured: 

"This is just so good."

"Um-hmm, I think so too," I agreed, I didn't have to wonder if my cock was eavesdropping again.

She smiled and murmured: 

"Know what I want to do?"

Of course, I didn't, but my cock seemed to think it involved him. I just responded with a questioning smile. She hummed softly and murmured: 

"Sometime, I just want to sit on you, with it in me, like we were this morning on Dad's chair. Hmm! If he knew?! Just sit on you, still, feeling you in me. Just enjoying that it was there, feeling it twitch, holding it, making it twitch." 

"Mmmm!" I responded. 

My cock was already liking her suggestion. I had to roll my hip away from her and let it, had to let go of her hand and help it move to the side, drawing my knee up a little to support that hip. She hummed slightly. When I held her hand again, she murmured: 

"I didn't want him to hear that. I just said 'sometime'."

"Too late. He has no conception of time, thinks everything should happen when he hears about it."

"Hm-hmm!" she chuckled with a grin, squeezing my hand, then replying: 

"Maybe my pussy does too." 

"Mmmm! Don't tell him that!"

"Already have." 

"Out here?" I asked.

"If we don't disturb the neighbors." 

"Don't make any noise?"

"Try not to." 

"That's not good enough, jus trying, if it's like this morning, and then you can't sit still?"

"Hmm?! Probably not!" she agreed with a grin, then suggesting: 

"On the sofa, so you can sit back and relax."

"Hmm! I'll try to, and if you leak, then on the towel."

"I hope I do!" 

We chuckled warmly, squeezing each other's hand. We got up and snuck back in the house. She glanced at my wagging cock with a grin. I was kind of proud that it was so aroused, but wondering if her pussy was too, aroused enough that we could get it in her without doing anything first. She gave me another grin as she folded the towel back on itself and then gestured for me to sit down. 

This was taking too long for my cock. She reached down and felt her pussy, scowling. Then she grinned and said: 

"I know, we can do it to each other for a while and then do that."

I understood her suggestion, but was surprised when she immediately dropped down on the rug, lying on her side, her upper thigh raised. I had been thinking about our doing that, but in bed, not on the living room floor, and not as just a preliminary for what she wanted to do. It was not, however, the moment to question anything she wanted to do, especially not with her pussy smiling at me.

Licking her pussy and feeling her sucking my cock, I could have forgotten that wasn't all we wanted to do, but she remembered. My cock popped out of her mouth and she demanded: "Sofa."

Obedient little brother, I immediately responded, getting off the floor and sitting on the sofa before she had to wait for me. There was no question now that my cock was ready to slip in her wet, tight pussy. I knew how wet and aroused it was. She hardly smiled as she drew her knees passed my thighs, straddling me, moaning, as her hand drew my cock back and guided it to the mouth of her vagina. Slippery, wet, it was still very tight, and she groaned as she lowered her hip, forcing my cock up in it. I had to groan too, afraid that if she rose up just once, I would come, but she didn't, of course, her hips settling down on mine. My cock throbbed, and her pussy squeezed it. I grasped her hips to keep her from moving. 

She nodded, as we looked at each other with aroused expression. I was thinking that if I smiled, it would encourage her to move. We both held very still, except for in her, but after a couple of more throbs and squeezes, we could relax, exchanging mild smiles. She murmured: 

"Almost felt like we couldn't."

"Um-hmm! Afraid I would." 

"That aroused?"

"Your pussy that tight. ... Don't do that!"

She had grinned and squeezed my cock again. She nodded with an understanding smile and murmured: 

"I'll try not to." 

"Hm-hmm! Like you said you'd try not to make any noise?"

"Um-hmm! Can't do more than just try."

She grinned. I nodded, returning her grin, but said: 

"Just don't talk about it; he's listening." 

"Deep in my pussy? I'll try not to," she replied with a mild smile, nodding and humming. 

I hummed in response. She had been so right about how good it felt to just know my cock was in her pussy, and it felt just as good for my cock there. Did her pussy clutch again, or had my cock throbbed first? We both moaned softly, barely smiling and nodding. That happened a couple of times more, and then we nodded with better, more relaxed smiles. This was as good as we had hoped, able to enjoy how good it was feeling, without having it become more arousing. 

Would it be, if I held her breasts, or if we kissed? Both so very tempting, but when I slid my hands up from her hips, she shook her head. Her pussy squeezed my cock, and it throbbed. This time I was sure she had squeezed first. Intentionally, or just in response to my having moved my hands up to her waist? I made my cock twitch, and her pussy responded, but she murmured: 

"Don't do that." 

I nodded, hoping that that I could. Then her pussy tightened, making my cock surge. I murmured: 

"Don't you either."

"Couldn't help it."

We chuckled very softly with mild smiles. This was just too good! How long could we keep from doing more? Just think about that made my cock twitch. She murmured: 

"I said don't do that."

"I was just think about what's going to happen, when we can't stand this any longer."

"You don't want to wait?"

"In principle, but I'm not very principled. Do you? Are you?"

"Hm-hmm! Don't know any more. What will happen if we just twitch and squeeze on purpose?" 

I made my cock twitch, and her pussy squeezed. 

"Yeah, like that," she murmured. 

That was easy, since we took turns. When she squeezed, my cock twitched in response, without my having to make it, and vice versa. After that pattern developed, she smiled and said: 

"I think they like that."

"You fucking know they do."

"Oooh! You shouldn't talk like that, give them any ideas."

"Have you got a better one?" I asked.

"Hmmm? Hm-hmm! You could rub me, like in the shower."

"You liked that?"

"Sort of like my tickling my nipples, and then it wasn't tickling."

"And made your pussy tighten on my finger."

"Um-hmmm! Why I suggested it."

I did, and her pussy did, and my cock throbbed. We chuckled the first couple of times, but then we were moaning, and my finger was responding to to the contractions of her asshole, more probing than rubbing, when it drew in a little. I didn't realize that, however, too aware of the arousing sensations in her pussy, until she gave a surprised "oooh!" Then I recognized that the tip of my finger wasn't just probing on the surface of her asshole; it had been drawn a little into it. When it tightened again, pulling on my finger tip, and it probed a little deeper, she just gave a better moan. Her pussy had clutched my cock when that happened, and my cock had surged. 

That happened again, my finger tip now being squeezed when her pussy squeezed my cock, but she only responded with a chuckling moan. It was feeling too arousing in her pussy for us to remark about why, and I certainly wasn't going say anything about where my finger was, if she didn't. It had been her idea. We hadn't known it was going to be like this, but we had wanted it to be more arousing, and it was being. 

My finger probed, and her asshole and pussy tightened, making my cock surge, as we both moaned. Was this in the book, I wondered for second, before my finger probed again, even a little deeper. It seemed like when her asshole relaxed, it wanted to get a new grip further back on my finger. She grunted slightly, when it tightened again, but we both then moaned; it felt like her pussy was also trying to drawn my cock deeper. Her hips twitched on mine, moving my cock slightly in her and making it surge again. We both moaned louder, and her hips twitched again. Then she muttered: 

"Oh, fuck it!" and rocked her hips. 

I heard the resignation in her remark, that she just could stand holding them still any longer. She didn't, churning my cock in her pussy. We moaned, even more aroused. When her asshole invited my finger to probe, it occurred to me that I could have understood her words as a command to do just that with my finger in her asshole. I opened my eyes and saw that her were closed and that she had an intense expression, as though she were concentrating on some problem. If she had one, if we had one, it was whether to try to extend our so aroused anticipation, or to give up and let ourselves have our orgasms. She gave up. 

"Fuck!" she demanded softly, and put her arms on my shoulders and started to ride up and down on my cock. My other hand slid down under her ass and helped her. Fuck! We fucked, with wet noises and gasps and groans. 

I came, but she was still riding up and down on him, with now desperate whimpers, and then her pussy flooded my cock and pubic hair, as she cried out: Oh God! Yes! Finally!" 

She sat heavy on me, leaning on my chest, our stomachs heaving. I suddenly recognized that my finger was a knuckle deeper in her. Had she noticed? I hadn't. I didn't want to move it, while she was recovering, but I was going to eventually. What was she going to think, say? 

Before she raised her head, her asshole twitched. She snorted. I felt her stomach jerk in. Then she murmured: 

"I guess so. Hm-hmm! Didn't know that would happen."

"I didn't either; it just wanted my finger to. I guess, just kept wanting me to."

"Hmm? If it did, ... "

I pulled my finger out, and she sat up again, shrugging with with a wry smile, remarking: 

"Learn something new every day."

"Like your wanting to just sit on me."

"God, that was good, like I hoped, but even better."

"It sure was, still is, a little." 

I tried to make my cock twitch. She squeezed it, and it began to slip out. I chuckled and added: 

"When you were doing that before, it felt like it wanted me even deeper in you."

"It did. No, that sounds like it isn't long enough. It is; it just wanted squeeze and pull on it." 

She squeezed my cock again, and it slipped out, flopping down. She chuckled and remarked: 

"Good thing that I thought of the towel; I'm leaking."

"Dripping on me." 

We chuckled with smirks. As she got off me, she reached down and grasped the part of the towel hanging between my legs and wiped her pussy. We both chuckled at the mixture of our liquids on my cock and balls, and she wiped them up too, then drying my matted hair. She gave me a smile, and I stood up. Since she hadn't stepped back, we embraced and kissed. It did occur to me that one shouldn't kiss one's sister that way, especially not with her naked in one's arms, but we were long past worrying about that, if we ever had. 

We agreed that we deserved a beer and went to the kitchen and decided to return to the patio, then feeling that we should go to the bathroom first. With a glance to see that the neighbors wouldn't see us, we returned to our deckchairs, raising the backs and turning them to the sun. With smiles, we raised our beers and drank, and enjoyed the sun again, neither of us apparently feeling that we had to say anything. 

I began to wonder how many times a day we would do it together, not as often week days, of course. Then I was a little chagrined that I had been thinking about how much sex I could have with my sister, relieved to be distracted when Vicky then spoke: 




A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 03



"Oh, guess I should warn you. My period will start this week, on Wednesday, till ... Sunday."

"Oh, of course," I replied, thinking that I could have thought of that. 

But she had also been thinking about our doing it. Had she also been wondering about how often? She snorted and added: 

"Good thing that I also like to do that so much; you won't be deprived."

"Hmm? Thanks. "Deprived," depraved, that was the word that should have occurred to me."

"Why?"

"I was wondering how often we would."

"Mmmm! As often as we can, well, as often as we want. Hm-hmm! And I sure will want to on Sunday or Monday."

"Both depraved?"

"Just a little."

We exchanged wry smiles and drank to that, and were silent again. After a couple of sips of beer, I asked: 

"When are they leaving for Europe, probably will call us again."

"Yeah. Tuesday or Wednesday. Yeah, Wednesday morning. Probably call Tuesday evening, when they know we'll both be home." 

We were silent again, and finished our beers. Depraved, I was wondering again: would we want to do as much as possible Tuesday evening in anticipation of not being able to, while she had her period? If we did, a call from out parents was the last thing we needed. Could we call them to get that out of the way? Was their New York hotel on the itinerary they had left with us? Was my "just a little" depraved sister having the same thought? I could check the itinerary before I asked her, suggesting that I was having such thoughts?

I turned over with my cock between my thighs, and then she did, giving me a smile and remarking: 

"Easier this time."

"Um-hmm. Just thinking about it isn't a problem after that."

"No, should last us till we go to bed."

I nodded, thinking that she was just a little depraved, if she could suggest that. We lay there, the sun warming our backs and bare asses. Did she have another suggestion of what she would like to do – in bed, in our parents' double bed? We were depraved, deciding to sleep together in their bed for the coming weeks. And when she had her period? Well, she had told me what she was going to do, but that aroused her too. Maybe she would think of that and not be so eager to suck my cock. Fair enough; if she couldn't, I shouldn't expect her to want to. But then, Sunday night or Monday?! Try to do everything we hadn't for a few days?! Yeah, I could really even think about that without my cock moving. 

When we had had enough sun, we slipped back into the house, agreeing to have another beer and think about dinner. With our beers, we looked at Mom's menus for us. Mom's menus for us planned real meals for the weekends, but she had stocked the freezer with lots of TV dinners for weekday nights. She had even prepared shopping lists for later. Vicky suggested that we could cook, when she had a her period, and that we just have TV dinners. We agreed to share a third one, and found what we liked and could share. 

When she turned on the oven, it occurred to me that she was suggesting that we not waste time with cooking that evening, that she preferred for us to have more to do to past the time, when she had her period. So, what did she want to do, if we didn't waste time cooking now? I was leaning against the counter, feeling that my cock was beginning to listen again, probably also because it was nice to see her bending over. Hmm? It had never occurred to me that one could see a girl's pussy between her thighs when she leaned down, like Vicky was, with her ass to me. 

Nice round ass. Why hadn't I noticed that and her nice breasts when I was fourteen or fifteen? If I had, for sure, I would have been like those other younger brothers, trying to see her naked. 

"Nice ass," I murmured. 

She glanced back and gave me a smile, and closed the oven door. She set the kitchen timer and stood up and turned to me with a grin, glancing at my not so small cock, and replied: 

"Wished you'd seen it before?"

"Exactly what I was thinking, and that I should have wanted to see your boobs when they started to be more interesting."

"Like those girls' younger brothers?" 

"Now I don't just have to peek, and they probably never got to see them the way I can."

"Hm-hmm! Not just see me." 

"I bet they never got to see their pussies between their thighs."

"You did?! Hm-hmm! Didn't know one could."

"Can see it better than from the front, mostly hidden by your hair."

"Oh, like that, pussy lips?"

"They would have come in their pants if they had seen that."

"Hm-hm-hmm! I guess you wouldn't now; besides, you don't have any pants. 

I glanced down and replied with a chuckle: 

"Nope. And I already have."

Mmmm! Don't have to tell me." 

We raised our beers, grinning, and drank. Then I was surprised, when she stepped closer and turned her back to me, leaning against me and rocking her hips. My cock thought that was nice. I did too, of course, and she did. She chuckled and pulled the cheek of her ass aside. I had to pass my beer to my other hand in front of her. Then I could help her spread her cheeks and let it press between them. She tightened her ass, squeezing it, and chuckled. When I passed my beer back to my other hand, she put my free hand on her breast. I nodded and fondled it. 

The other one too," she murmured and moved my hand across to it, my arm closer around her. She nodded with a hum, and we both drank. I fondled, and she rubbed herself against me, the effect not lost for my cock.

"What do you want to do?" she murmured.

"When? You said we would wait till we were in bed."

"Then? Now?"

"Just enjoy holding you like this."

"And then?" 

"Anything you want."

"Mmmm! Have to think about that. And now?"

"Hmm? Have to think about that, too."

"Have to wait for the oven to heat up and then about twenty minutes to cook."

"What's that have to do with it?" I asked, very superfluously, since I knew that the oven would turn off when it reached the temperature. We had all the time in the world. 

"Lots of time," she replied.

"To do what?" 

"Hmm! You're not that innocent any more, playing dense."

"Yeah, but only because you'd said we'd wait till bed time, after dinner."

"I hadn't known we'd have to wait for the oven to heat up."

"Hm-hmm, but you had decided we could have TV dinners."

"Um-hmm!" she agreed cheerfully, and had a good drink of her beer. 

I took an equally good drink of mine. She took another one of hers, then hummed, rubbing on me again, and said: 

"If you finished your beer, you could hold me somewhere else." 

I wasn't playing so dense as to ask what she meant. I finished my beer, burping, and she finished hers. We both reached back and put them on the counter. I squeezed her breast, and my other hand slid down her flat tummy. She nodded with hum and murmured: 

"I thought you would understand." 

"Just playing dense," I replied, and my fingers slid down on her nice public hair, enjoying scratching around in them and that they covered a nice round mound. The skinny models in the bathing suit photos it the paper hadn't looked like theirs were like that. She rocked her hips up with another hum and murmured: 

"Not just there." 

My fingers had just been waiting for encouragement. I hadn't yet rubbed her little bulge, but she had told me what she did. I did, and she moaned, moving against me like a cat rubbing itself on something. My cock liked that, and she liked feeling that it did, purring. 

Her little bulge was slipping back and forth under my fingers. I recognized that the firmer little pink pearl was only the visible end of a now firm little shaft, that my fingers were making it spring back and forth under my fingers under the hood over it that I had seen and my fingers were rubbing. 

Vicky was moaning. She had asked for this! My cock wasn't moaning, but it would have been, if it could have, throbbing against her. She pushed my hand down, pressing my fingers between her open pussy lips, down on her opening, wet opening, and her hips rocked up, rubbing it against my fingers. Did she want me to put one, two, three, in it? The tip of my middle finger probed. She moaned and nodded, but then murmured: 

"If you can see it from behind." 

She almost tore herself out of the clasp of my arms and leaned down, her hands reaching out and finding the kitchen table. She stepped away from me, dropping her head and shoulders on the table, rocking her hips. 

Oh, I could see it, her pussy. Not just her pussy lips, now slick, moist pink between them, and my cock was bobbing, just wanting to get between them! I grasped it and stepped forward. It slid up between them. She groaned, rocking her hips, groaning again when we found the mouth of her vagina, and then we both groaned, as my cock plunged into it, my hips slapping up against her ass. 

For a moment, I held still, feeling my cock throb in the grip of her pussy, but then I had to fuck. I remembered where my hand had been and reached around her hip and found the place again. She responded with pulsing moan. My other hand found her breast. I wanted to rub my fingers on her aroused nipple, but I had to grasp her breast to have something to hang on to, as I pumped my cock in her pussy.

Did we have to do this? We did. She had wanted it, was wanting it, and I was too; wanting to fuck, having to fuck! And she was more than moaning, as my fingers rubbed there. She liked that so much, where she liked my to lick! Getting it both ways, my giving it to her both ways! And her pussy clutching, giving it to my cock, as it plunged in and out her pussy, my hips clapping against her ass! 

Fucking like I had once see a stallion fuck a mare. What a cock he had had! But mine was what I had, and it was as big as her tight pussy needed. Did mares' pussies squeeze those stallions' so thick and long cocks like hers was squeezing mine? Did mares have anything like what my fingers were rubbing? 

Fuck! Suddenly the kitchen timer rang. It was like a catalyst; we came. I spurted deep in her pussy, and her pussy spurted against my tight sack. So much for waiting until we were in bed, I thought, as my hand slid up and held her other breast, feeling her pussy clutch my cock again. 

When she raised her head, I helped her stand up. My cock slipped out, and I heard the sound of her dripping on the floor. She held her hands over mine on her breasts and said: 

"If Mom knew what a good idea heating up TV dinners could be."

"Um-hmm, just the nicest way to wait for the oven to heat up."

"Mine or the stove's?"

"Hm-hmm! Yours sure cooked my cock." 

We chuckled, and she stepped out of my grasp and got the moist dishcloth and wipe her pussy. She smirked and tossed it in the direction of my cock. I caught it and wiped my cock and balls and then the floor, while she put the TV dinners in the stove. I rinsed the dishcloth, and we set the table and got two more beers. 

With a grin, she moved to suggest we return to how we had been standing before. I reached around her and held her far breast, and we drank. She chuckled and said: 

"Well, we figured out what to do now."

"Um-hmm; going to make TV dinners more enjoyable." 

"Hm-hmm! I was thinking we could take showers, while we waited for the oven to heat up."

"Our shower," I corrected her.

"Mmmm, maybe time for a quick one and this."

"If we don't have to spend time deciding what we want to do."

"Hm-hmm! We can decide that during the shower." 

"As long as we don't argue about it." 

"I don't think we will."

I squeezed her breast and fondled her nipple. She purred, rubbing her ass and back on me, and then asked: 

"So what are we going to do after dinner?"

"Anything we haven't done already. You have all the good ideas."

"Hmm! About time you had some."

It was obvious that we were just filling the time until the timer rang again. I squeezed her breast again and then let my hand drop and suggested: 

"We could start all over, you know, all our clothes on – your bra, too – and pretend it was a date. We had only kissed before, but when you said your parents weren't home, we're sitting on the sofa – no towel, of course – and then really start to make out. You let me put my hand on your breast for the first time ..."

Why you just took it away," she interrupted me. 

We both took a sip of beer, and I continued: 

"Yeah, but just on your blouse and the kind of bra that doesn't let me feel your nipple." 

"Hm-hmm! I've got one. Mom bought it." 

"But I guess your nipple does pop out, that you're more aroused than I realize. You don't stop me from getting my hand inside your blouse, but don't want to let my fingers more than touch your skin above the bra. But then my thumb slips under it, and you let me push it far enough to rub the goose bumps around your nipple."

"Hmm! Thought that was how your first time would start?"

"Never thought that far, well, kind of skip this part."

"Of course. Guys don't need so long. I wouldn't have, starting with imagining his rubbing my nipples." 

"Rubbing them yourself?"

"Um-hmm. Don't think we're going to do this, but then what happens?"

"Yeah, well, then I'm surprised that you stop objecting to my doing more. Yeah, your tongue is back in my mouth, doing more than before, if possible. So, I guess I'd have to shove your bra strap off your shoulder, and you let me. You're really going to let me hold your bare breast! Worse, better, you moan, when I do, pressing it into my hand. 

"You can hold it again." 

I do, and she takes a deep breath, pressing her breast in my hand. We chuckle and have another sip of beer, and I continue: 

"Yeah, well, your blouse is then unbuttoned, and you're leaning forward, inviting my other hand to slide around and unhook your bra." 

"Bet you have trouble doing that, the first time."

"Hm-hmm! Probably. Maybe I can practice a little before our showers."

"Remind me, before I hurry to get it off."

"So then you're half naked. Do I suck them, or do you do anything?"

"Both; my hand is on your thigh, sliding up. Wow! It's so big and stiff in your pants."

"And twitching."

"Um-hmm, and I am shocked by what I'm doing, but I can't help wanting to hold it, afraid of what could happen, if I do."

"But you do."

"Um-hmm, afraid that you'll think it's an invitation for you to get your hands somewhere else."

"It would be! And I would be scared to, but when you keep holding it, ... Yeah, you don't want keep holding my zipper too, and massage it to the side, just my chinos and shorts between your hand and my stiff cock. Boxer short, thinner than my jockeys."

"And now I can feel it better, feel the groove around it." 

"If you want to do that, you must want me to do more."

"Shocked that I do, but I do."

"Are you wearing a skirt or pants?" 

"Hm-hmm! Short shorts! Wanting you to hold my thigh, wanting to feel your fingers down between them, wishing they were loose enough so that your fingers could creep up inside them."

"Girls ought to tell guys things like that."

"And admit that they want to be fucked? Nice girls don't admit that."

"But they want to?" 

"Didn't I?"

"My sister is a nice girl?" 

"She used to be, anyway. So what happens?"

"Thanks for wearing short shorts. I was thinking I was going to have to figure out how to undo the waistband of your skirt or pants."

"More difficult than the bra, why I'm wearing the shorts."

"Oh, you wanted me to do something all along?"

"Maybe. Maybe why I invited you home."

"Nice girls do that?"

"I never have. Hm-hmm! Just wanted to look at pictures with my brother."

"Even better, thank you. So, I dare to put my hand on your bare thigh, not as close up as I want to, but you don't mind, and don't mind when it slides up a little. Oh no! They twitch together, but then spread wider apart. My fingers venture to creep up, and they just twitch again."

"I hope you're sucking one of my nipples, if your hand is down there."

"Of course. You hadn't objected to my kissing your neck ..."

"Probably gave me a hicky." 

"Probably, but you only moaned, and didn't object, when I started to kiss my way down to your breast."

"I sure didn't! I wanted to push my breast up to make sure you found my aroused nipple, but I couldn't bring myself to be that open about what I wanted."

"While you were already holding my cock?"

"That had just sort of happened. Besides, you found my nipple without my help." 

"Yeah, by then I understood that you would let me do anything on 'second base', but did I dare try to steal 'third base? I didn't want to get slapped or thrown out of the house. Maybe it would be better to wait till my next time at bat."

"Hm-hmm! With me holding it like that?"

"Yeah, and afraid that something could happen, that that could be very embarrassing."

"Like yesterday morning. Was I thinking it might, like that? I wasn't thinking, just hoping you fingers on my thigh would do more." 

"You wanted me to steal third. Hm-hmm! It felt like it. You certainly were leaving it unprotected, and your skin inside your thigh was so thin and soft. I edge a little closer to it, and you moan. Is the third base coach signaling for me to make a dash for it? Damn! My fingers trip on the edge of your tight short shorts."

"I'm worried that you're going to run back to second base. If I can keep my thighs from twitching together, maybe you'll just stumble and go for it."

"I do. The batter hits a short ball into left field and you run back to catch it."

"And third base is completely unprotected, but I fumble the fly ball."

"Should have let shortstop catch it." 

"Hm-hmm! I didn't want anything stopping short of where I wanted your fingers to be."

"Oh, that was good! Yeah, so third base is wide open. My fingers race over the inch or two of your shorts between legs. Safe at third!"

"Except that I still have my shorts and panties on."

"Yeah, but your twitching thighs ... "

"Quivering thighs are trying to stay apart, so that you can scuff around on third base a little, enjoy the satisfaction of finally having gotten there." 

"'Scuff' with my cleats – fingernails – or how?"

"Any way you want, just do something! I'm moaning." 

"Because you dropped the ball?"

"Because I want to hold yours, and you're just standing there, your fingers not doing anything." 

"Yeah, I hear you, and your shorts are so tight there too. Third base is so nice and round and firm."

"It's probably moving. Must be a mild earthquake." 

"Um-hmm, it is, rocking a little, suggesting that my fingers rub it."

"Thank goodness! Finally! Just do anything you want!"

"Shorts too tight to let my fingers find where your pussy lips meet."

"Mmmm! Hm-hmm! They probably aren't any more. Can't you feel that it's moist where they should meet?" 

"Mmmm! Now I can, after rubbing some more." 

"Must have taken a while to soak through to my short shorts. Are you going to dare to do more?" 

"Like stop rubbing and trying to unbutton your shorts."

"Maybe I'm so far gone that I help you." 

"If you do that, will you unzip my pants? My cock will spring out of the fly of my boxer shorts."

"Scary! Did we turn off the lights? I'm a little embarrassed about letting you see me all naked."

"Me too. About your seeing my cock, embarrassing for me too?"

"Yeah, kind of. We shouldn't be doing this, especially not in my family's living room, so easier if we don't have to see what we're doing and where." 

"Okay, so we only left on the light in the entrance."

"That's good. Yeah, I'll unzip your pants. Hm-hmm! If you say 'please', when I find the tab."

"'Please!' And you help me with your shorts, so I can keep rubbing." 

"I guess that I have given up all reservations. I want my pants off and want your cock to spring out." 

"I do too, but this is going to be the first time, and worse, I am afraid I'm going to come the second my cock springs out."




A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 03



"And no one has told me that it's as big as what I've been holding, and I know how tight my pussy is."

"But we're going to?"

"Nothing can stop me from wanting to, now. Did you say 'please'?" 

"Didn't you hear me?"

"I think you just moaned with a nod, had my nipple still in your mouth."

"You really want us to try to do it? I don't know what it's like for girls, but I've heard that they need a lot long than my cock is going to." 

"And I have heard the same, but we're not going to stop now. My pussy is so wet. Has to be a first time, and if it isn't as good as I want it to be."

"Okay. I stop chewing on your nipple and say 'please'." 

"Fucking right, my nipple is all sore. Zip!"

The kitchen timer rings, startling us. 

I squeezed her breast, and we laughed. As she turned out my arm, she grinned and said: 

"Saved by the bell! I'm still a virgin! That was fun." 

"It sure was! Not better than looking at pictures, but it if ever starts something like that, I'll remember your part." 

"And yours. He'll probably get to third base faster than we did."

"You won't ask him to say 'please'?"

"You know I won't!" 

We snickered, and I helped her get our TV dinners on the table. We were still chuckling as we sat down to eat, silently toasting each other with our beers, grinning. We ate in silence for a while. Then I murmured: 

"Still didn't settle what we're going to do."

"Not that."

"No, just a game to past the time."

"Um-hmm. We'll think of something." 

"I am sure." 

She nodded with smile, and we drank again. We shared the third TV dinner, and finished eating. After cleaning up, we went in the living room. At the sight of the towel on the sofa, we exchanged slightly wry smiles, and she asked: 

"Think we can sit there again?" 

"Not like before." 

"No, just watch TV." 

She spread the towel out again for both of us to sit on, and we watched TV. For a while, we just sat next to each other. When her hand moved from hers to my thigh, I put my arm around her shoulders. She got up after the news and found a film on another channel and sat back down under my arm again. We watched it for a while, and then she leaned a little closer to me, and my forearm dropped down over her shoulder. A minute or two later, her hand was back on my thigh. When her fingers moved a little, I wondered if she was recalling our game, wanting me to recall it. 

She drew her shoulder under my arm back, and my forearm dropped lower. My fingers brushed her breast. Her fingers moved on my thigh. Mine cupped in a little under her breast. 

"Um-hmm," she responded softly, moving her fingers again. I held her breast. She nodded, and her hand slid up my thigh. I knew where it was heading, and my cock did too. It was a small handful, when her fingers curled around it. Her thumb brushed over its soft head, still surrounded by my foreskin. For a minute or two, our hands were still, but my cock was filling her hand better, and the head of my cock was projecting further. My fingers closed around her breast. Her nipple was stiff and pressed in my palm. 

Of course, we knew what we were doing. Before we came in from the patio, we had agreed that we were going to do something in bed. We had sort of cheated in the kitchen, but our delightful conversation after that and few words during dinner had only confirmed that we would. What else should we do in our parents' big bed? Her thumb rubbed over the head of my cock, no longer touching my foreskin. I squeezed her breast. We did that a couple of times more, in silence, and then she murmured: "Bed."

I nodded, and we got up. I turned off the TV, and she picked up the towel. We had to go to the bathroom. After she had used the toilet, I did, hardly having to hold my cock down. She washed her pussy, and I washed my cock and balls, both silent. When we returned to the bedroom, she murmured: "We can both do it," and wound and set the alarm clock. 

I nodded, and we lay down and curled up together, my head between her thighs. She urged me to draw my thigh up under her head. When I slid my arm under her waist and drew her hips closer with both hands, she guided my cock to her mouth and then did the same. It occurred to me that I was going to have to remember not to thrust my cock too deep in her mouth, since her hands were holding my ass and couldn't keep it from thrusting deep in her throat. 

We licked and sucked, and it became more arousing. It hadn't really been, when we started, but we both knew that we enjoyed doing it and what the other one was doing. We were in no hurry, not after what we had done in the living room and in the kitchen. It was just very nice and familiar to again taste her pussy and feel her sucking and licking my cock. It couldn't be more "familiar," brother and sister arousing each other, but if we liked it? And we did it so good! 

Would another girl's pussy be as good, taste as good? Probably, if she let me, wanted me to enjoy it, but would she want to suck my cock, want to suck it as much as my sister did, and as good? That was hard to believe, the way she was sucking and licking and holding the cheeks of my ass, like I was holding hers, my fingers in between them at the base of her spine. Hers were there too, rubbing a little. 

Did she want me to rub her asshole again? One of her fingers was closer to mine. Did she want to rub mine, think I would like that too? If she had liked it, would it feel good for me too? She had liked it; she would again. She did, nodding with hum. Were her fingers' rubbing over mine just suggesting that she wanted me to do more again, or did hers want to probe in mine? 

My finger tip found the middle of her little hole. It tightened. Oooh! Her finger found mine. Of course, mine also tightened, a reflex. Her tightened again. My finger hadn't moved. Had she done that intentionally. But her finger had moved, making mine tighten. If she wanted me to, if she wanted to? She wasn't sucking or licking, waiting for me to? Oh, I also wasn't licking, waiting for her to? 

If we both were waiting, I probed. She nodded slightly on my thigh and also did. "Uhnn!" Felt funny, but she liked it. We resumed our licking and sucking, letting our finger tips responded to the reflexes of our assholes. She and I weren't surprised when my finger probed deeper, but when hers did, I was surprised by the more intense sensation, but it was also arousing. It must feel like that for her too; no wonder she hadn't complained. 

The additional arousal just accentuated what her mouth was doing on my cock. As I licked and sucked where she wanted it most, I assumed that it was for her too, having experienced it already. Yeah, she had asked for it and liked it, and I did too! 

We came. Her pussy drenched my nose and eyes. She almost bit my cock again, when my first spurt shot in the back of her throat. I hadn't remembered not to thrust my cock too deep in it, but she hadn't gagged, when I had grunted and came. 

With long, deep, moaning sighs, we recovered. I wondered again if there was anything in the book about where our fingers still were. Then they weren't. Her fingers rippled over my asshole, making it contract again, and I rubbed mine over hers, feeling hers contract. She snorted, nodding, and I did. 

We had lain down across the bed and moved around with our heads on the pillows, not lying as close as we had had to in her bed, and pulling up the covers. She murmured: 

"I guess we like that."

"I guess so, too. Anything about that in the book?"

"Hmm? I saw something, but flipped past it, thinking it was too weird, perverse."

"I would have too."

"But then this morning, in the shower, when you washed me there ..."

"It felt good?" I interrrupted."

"Strange, but not offensive, like I had imagined it would. Yeah, good."

"You sure didn't complain this afternoon."

"You didn't either, now."

"No!" 

We chuckled and drew each other closer, embracing and kissing. She muttered: 

"Forgot to save some for you, next time."

"Please, if you like it. I've got pussy juice all over my face; had to blink a couple of times to open my eyes." 

"I like that, that you made me come so good. Let me lick them." 

She did, humming, as her tongue licked back and forth on my eyelashes. She hugged me again, and we kissed again, then relaxed in each other's arms, and our thighs overlapped, then squeezing. I was dozing off, when she began to turn over. She backed up against me, and I drew my thighs up behind hers and held her breast. We said good night and fell asleep. 

During the night, when I rolled back, I was only vaguely aware that something was different, since the covers didn't drop down on my side, and when I rolled onto my other side, I couldn't pull then with me. Half awake, I remembered that I was in bed with my sister, Vicky. But then the tension on the covers slacked, and she also rolled over. I dozed off again with no thoughts about how we had spent the day. 

I was awakened by her moving closer to me and putting her arm around me, reminding me that that is how we had woken up the previous morning. I opened my eyes, seeing that it was light and then recognizing that we were in our parents' room. Then I was wide awake, recalling the events of the previous day in reverse order: sixty-nine in bed, in the kitchen, sitting in the living room. Then my recollections got confused. What had we done in the morning, or had that been the day before? I knew we had started by looking at pictures in the book and that she had unbuttoned her blouse and that I had come in my pants, but after that? 

I reached back and rubbed her hip. She rubbed my chest and said cheerfully: 

"Good morning. I set the alarm clock half an hour too early, but it hasn't gone off yet."

"Good morning. Why that? Well, I know, if you thought we would want to."

"Just in case." 

"You said I had a one track mind."

"You said it first. Just didn't us to go to work and then think we missed something."

"Thoughtful of you." 

"We don't have to. I really didn't think we needed to, but, well, just in case."

"I don't either."

"That's nice. Turn over and hold me, and we can wait for the alarm, plus a little."

I rolled over and put my arm around her, and our thighs overlapped again. Despite everything we had done, it was a little surprising to be aware of her naked body against mine – her bare breasts – to have my arm around her bare back, to feel our naked thighs interlocked. Delightful. 

"This is nice, real nice," she murmured. 

"Very, naked bodies together. It suddenly seemed kind of surprising, delightfully so."

"Um-hmm, but don't tell me too much how, make it sound arousing."

"Didn't want to, just that."

"And all the rest was very nice, even nicer."

"Yes, but don't remind me, for the same reason." 

"Just wanted to say it."

We rubbed each other's back and were silent. Eventually, we heard the alarm ring and let it run down. But then her thighs twitched, and she murmured: 

"Got to go." 

We flung back the covers and got up. It was also a little surprising and delightful suddenly to see her all naked again. As I followed her to the bathroom, I hope it would be like that every morning. I liked that I didn't yet have to go some much that my cock was sticking out; we didn't want anything to suggest arousal. 

While we were washing each other in the shower, however, that happened, of course. I couldn't wash her breasts without arousing them, or maybe her nipples were aroused before I rubbed them. My cock was only a little longer before she started to wash it, but she wanted to wash it with her soapy hands until it was aroused. I don't think I soaped her pussy that much, but she was enjoying it with purring hums - pussy, purring cat. When I told her that, she purred again with a nod and sweet smile. I had to shave, and she said that she would get dressed and start breakfast. 

We met in the kitchen, both dressed for work, looking and trying to act like normal siblings. We carried that off pretty well, right through breakfast and washing up, until she asked for a kiss before we left the house. 

Normal siblings don't embrace and kiss like we did. After we parted on the street, I still recalled the feeling of embracing her in our clothes, and then that we had in bed, naked, her naked breasts on my chest. Had her nipples been aroused?

At work, I was busy enough not to think about her and the way we had spent the weekend. But then at lunch with the gang, the talk turned to how we had spent the weekend. I hope I didn't blush when the subject came up. Before I had to say anything, I remembered my idea about girl-watching at the swimming pool, an appropriate male activity to mention with men in the cleaning crew. I didn't have to say much, before insinuating questions came that suggested their own answers: skimpy bikinis, big boobs, girls too skinny to wear bikinis, no success with any, and the like. 

I was a success, just worried that I would have to continue my tale the next day, surely with a new chapter the following Monday. On the way back to work, it occurred to me that I could ask Vicky for help, that she would enjoy my dilemma, then I wondered if she had had the same problem, thinking that she could complain that she had had to spend the weekend with her little brother. 

As we were cleaning up at work, I, of course, began to think about Vicky again, and then on the way home. Which one of us would be home first? Should the first one already get undressed? That could be funny for both, Oh, if she were already there, would she remember to leave her bra on, so that I could practice unhooking it? I didn't think she would be sitting there with just her bra on, maybe in just her bra and panties; more likely, with all her clothes on. Did we really want immediately to do something? We hadn't had to in the morning. Then I remembered that we had talked about having a shower together. That would be a way to get our clothes off and a little closer, and then see what developed. 

The mail was still in the mailbox; she wasn't home yet. After all my thoughts, I didn't want to surprise her by being already naked. I didn't want to sit down in my work clothes, and then remembered to find our parents' itinerary. Yes, it did have their New York hotel, and Vicky had been right about their flying on Wednesday morning, but it didn't have a phone number for the hotel. I called information and got the number. As I was hanging up, she opened the door and saw me. 

"Oh, you're home already. Hi. Did they call? Who did?"

"I did, information; got the phone number of their hotel."

"What for?"

I didn't want to tell her what I had been thinking on the patio and replied: 

"Thought it would be nice, if we called them tomorrow and wished them 'bon voyage'."

"Oh, that's a good idea, better than their calling us again."

"And asking what we've been doing."

Damn! I hadn't wanted to say that! Vicky just smirked with a nod, however, then remarking: 

"You have to change, probably have to take a shower more than I do."

I nodded, and she smiled, both of us turning to our parents' bedroom. This was working out just like I had hoped, better, since she had mentioned the shower. We took off our clothes, hesitating to look at each other when we were down to our underwear. When she shrugged and reached back to unhook her bra, I said: 

"Stop, let me." 

"Oh, yeah," she agreed with a grin, stepping closer. When I started to reach around her with both hands, she said: 

"Just one hand, for practice."

I let one hand drop and found the fastening with my other hand. She chuckled and took a deep breath, tightening her bra. Which way did the hooks go? Hard to tell with her bra stretched so tight around her. She slid her hand around my side, still holding her breath, chuckling, without exhaling. 

"You're being difficult," I complained. 

"Have to learn how, even if she thinks she doesn't want you to."

She quickly inhaled again. I snorted and replied: 

"Isn't it more likely she'll want to moan deeply?"

She nodded and did, exhaling strongly. My fingers and thumb could press the ends of her bra together, and it popped open. She nodded again with a chuckle and took another deep breath, the ends slipping from my fingers. Her hands found the elastic of my shorts, and mine found hers. As we pushed them down, she chuckled again and said: 

"Now that I know you can undress her, I'm sure you'll know what else to do." 

We snickered and had to step back, then taking off our own underpants. When she reached down, her bra slid down her arms. That was a nice view, seeing her breasts with her leaning down. Her nipples only popped out, when she looked up with smile and saw me staring at them. She had looked up from seeing my cock, which was just comfortably a little larger. Like it should be, when a girl saw it, I thought. We stepped out of them, and she stood up with bra and panties in one hand. Her other one unconsciously fluffed up her pubic hair. 

"Guess I always do that," she murmured, then added: 

"Like your jostling your balls." 

I hadn't noticed that I did. I smiled wryly and replied: 

"Just to make sure they're there." 

"I hope so!" she replied with a grin. 

"Want to check, yourself?" I asked saucily, liking that we were bantering like we had before. 

"In the shower," she murmured with a grin. 

She did with soapy hands, as soon as I began to washed and fondled her breasts. We chuckled. Of course, she also washed my cock, more than just washed it, with the expected effect. We hurried through washing the rest of each other, including our feet, and then I washed her pussy with one hand and her asshole with the other one. She nodded with a hum and washed mine, fondling my cock enough to make it rise up again. When she turned off the water, she rubbed my cheek and said: "Don't guess you have to shave."

That nicely confirmed that we were going to do something, not that I was doubting it. We dried ourselves. As we left the bathroom, she grabbed the towel that had been on the sofa and tossed it there again, as we agreed to have a beer. It was too early to start making dinner, but after our first sip, she asked with an innocent smile: 

"TV dinners again?"

"If you don't want to cook? Three again."

She shook her head and then nodded, with a less innocent smile. We had another sip of beer, and I remembered the conversation at lunch and told her. She chuckled, enjoying it. When I asked for her suggestions of what else I could tell, she grinned with a hum and replied: 

"Oooh, lots of possibilities; let me think."



A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 04



This story is becoming longer than I had expected. I didn't know how inventive Vicky and Milt (that's his name) would be. They just can't stop. Can't blame them. Now they are in the kitchen, waiting for the oven to heat up. 





She shook her head and then nodded, with a less innocent smile. We had another sip of beer, and I remembered the conversation at lunch and told her. She chuckled, enjoying it. When I asked for her suggestions of what else I could tell, she grinned with a hum and replied: 

"Oooh, lots of possibilities; let me think." 

We had another sip, then she grinned again and said: 

"Well, next Monday, you could make it more interesting: saw a girl forget that her top was unfastened, when she sat up; that the cup of one swimming – you know, a type of top that is just two triangles and strings – that one cup slipped aside. Of course, if it rains, you won't have gone to the pool. Any of them go there?" 

"Hmm! They might, if I make up stories like that."

"Hm-hmm! We could go on the weekend, can't do much else, and we could make it interesting. No one else from school in the crew, who would know me?"

"Nope. How are we going to make it interesting?" 

"Well, if you're too shy to talk to a girl you don't know, I could be there, and you could ask if you could put your towel near mine."

"And you would let me talk to you?" I asked facetiously. 

"Maybe, if you don't start by telling me that you like my bikini and what's in it."

"Even if I do?" I asked with a grin, staring at her breasts.

She reached up and ran her finger around one of her erect nipple, grinning. 

"And then?" I asked. 

"I'd ask you to put lotion on my back."

"With your top open? I could help you with that."

"Not unless I asked you to."

"I hope so, and then you can sit up, just a little, so just I can see."

"Maybe you should just get up your nerve and try it with another girl."

"Have to find one with breasts like yours." 

"If you see one, you don't have to chat me up." 

"And see some other guy come along and talk to you?"

"Oh! That's a problem: probably kids there who know us."

"So much for that idea, but we could go to the pool, if the sun shines." 

"Um-hmm, if you don't think about where we'd rather be, and it showed."

"Like on the patio?"

"Um-hmmmm! I wouldn't mind, but anyone who knew us would get the wrong idea."

"More like the right idea."

"Um-hmm!" 

She grinned with a nod, and we drank again. I chuckled with a grin and suggested: 

"If they ask at work, maybe I'll just say that I didn't do anything special, just 'fucking around' with my sister."

"You'd better not! Besides, that would be lying, this coming weekend."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that! We just didn't do anything worth mentioning."

"Whatever we do, it won't be worth mentioning, won't be mentionable."

We drank to that with nods and grins, finishing our beers. She asked if there was anything in the mail, implying that we leave the kitchen. There hadn't been, but we went to the living room, and shared the newspaper again. We both read all the sections, exchanging them. I more just glanced through the ones she had been reading first. 

From all our talk, it was obvious that we were going to do something, probably in the kitchen again. What? Was she wondering, too? Apparently, we were both taking our time with the paper, not sure about how to begin. It just had to happen – somehow. We couldn't just say: let's fuck. That recognition just made it more tantalizing to wait to discover how it would happen. 

I was only looking at the pictures on the fashion pages, thinking models were too skinny, skinny thighs. I didn't like how I imagined their skinny thighs must look up by their pussies. How did skinny girls' pussies look? Photos of them in swimwear showed that they had bony hips and not the nice swelling between their legs that my sister had. Guys had joked about "the meat being sweeter closer to the bone." I had smirked with the others, not really understanding, but now I did. I liked the way my sister's pussy curved out between the top of her thighs, and I thought now that I probably knew more about how a pussy tasted than the couple of guys who showed off with such remarks. 

My sister tossed the financial section aside, and I glanced up. Had her thighs clenched together? Those skinny models didn't look theirs could. My cock was a little bigger than it should have been from my perusing the paper, even with my last thoughts. Her thighs did twitch! She was smirking at me slightly. We knew each other too well now; if her thighs had twitched, and she was smirking, their twitching had been intentional – all the better! My cock wasn't big enough for her thighs to twitch at her seeing it. Hadn't been, maybe it was now! It felt like it. I couldn't see it, looking over the paper at her and returning her smirk. We both hummed, and I flung the section with the fashion pages aside. We grinned at each other. Her thighs twitched again and she remarked: 

"Hoped that would work."

"It did. I've been wondering, didn't want to say anything."

"Me neither. Time to start to heat up the oven?"

"If you want to?" 

"Hmmm! Want to what?"

"Heat up your oven." 

"I think it is already."

We grinned, snickering, and almost hurried to the kitchen. She quickly turned on the oven and set the timer, and turned to me with grin. The word came to me, a "'lecherous" grin; her nipples as aroused as they could be. I hoped my grin looked equally lecherous, suddenly wondering if the word had anything to do with licking; it sounded like it. [author: it does]

I didn't have to glance down to know that my cock was looking like it wanted to be licked, and her nipples did too. My attempt at a lecherous grin must have been good - or maybe just the sight of my rising cock was. Her eyes shifted up from it to my eyes and back down to it again. She looked back up with questioning expression. Couldn't she say what we both wanted to do, at least, ask me? 

I didn't want to ask her outright to suck my cock, as much as I wanted her to. She circled her stiff nipples with a finger of each hand and moaned softly with an aroused expression. Finally, I suggested softly, trying to be indirect: 

"I could sit on the table, and you could sit on a chair."

She nodded, her lecherous grin returning, humming, and replied: 

"Sit on the counter. Then I'll sit on the table."

Finally! But I liked that neither of us had wanted to be too direct. As I pushed my hips over the edge of the counter, while she grabbed the nearest chair, I understood her suggestion better: my cock was going to be just the right height for her to suck. She certainly wasn't going to be able to enjoy starting when it was small and soft. And, if she wanted to suck one of my balls again, that was going to be much easier, and if that didn't occur to her, then, with my cock in her mouth, I would have no hesitation to suggest it. We had just been a little diffident about wanting to say how we wanted to start. 

She had turned the chair to face me and sat down. Yes, my cock was almost the perfect height for her to suck! But she didn't yet, looking up at me with smile and murmuring: 

"How did you know this was what I wanted to do?

"I asked him," I replied with a grin, making him twitch. 

She chuckled, returning my grin. Oooh, nice, her fingers were jostling my balls. Maybe I wouldn't have to suggest she suck one - or both. She leaned down and licked up the back of my cock. She had never done that before. My cock twitched away from her tongue, when it reached my most sensitive spot. She chuckled and made it twitch again, and again, then finally grasped it and pulled it down. I moaned before it was really in her mouth, and then had to moan again. 

Maybe this was too arousing; we hadn't done anything for so long, longer than ever before. My cock was twitching and surging in her mouth, as she licked and sucked, and her fingers were just rubbing my sack. So tight already! 

"Balls," I muttered, hoping for relief for my cock. 

She nodded and raised her head. Yeah, my cock was already oozing clear liquid. She had to massage my sack for a while to loosen it. I found the sides of the chair with my feet, and pressed them against her thighs to let them rest on the seat. When I wiped up the liquid and tasted it, she nodded with little smile. She also liked how it tasted. She licked the back of the head of my cock, and licked up the next drop that oozed out. 

Then my sack was slack enough for her suck one of my balls. Not as loose as it could have been; she really had to push it into her mouth, but then we both hummed, and she sucked and could close her mouth around it. She "had me by my balls," one of them, and it felt so good! The expression was definitely not about this, feeling her sucking and licking it! I wiped another drop off the head of my cock, then thinking that this was being a little unfair, making her wait until I could lick her pussy. I moved my toes against her to suggest she return to sucking my cock. As much as I enjoyed the arousing anticipation before I came, it was unfair to keep her waiting for hers. 

She let my ball pop from her mouth and grinned up at me. I nodded, glancing down at my cock, and wiggled my toes again.  She nodded with a chuckle and grasped my ankle, urging me to raise my foot.  When I did, she chuckled again and spread her thighs and moved my foot down between them. I nodded, understanding, and she rocked her hips back and shoved my toes under her pussy. I wiggled them again, and she nodded with a grin, and then my cock was back in her mouth. 

I had discovered that my toes curled, when I was about to have an orgasm, but this was going to be difficult to coordinate, if she expected me to try to wiggle them against her pussy, while she was sucking my cock.

I tried, and she sucked and licked my cock as though she were in hurry to feel my orgasm spurt in her throat. We were in complete agreement about that, and sitting on the counter, when I felt it coming, the rocking of my hips didn't thrust my cock too deep in her mouth. 

She was groaning with me in anticipation. When I grunted and came, she groaned, and her hips rocked down on my curled toes, and we both moaned each time my cock spurted again in her mouth. 

"Save it!" I demanded softly, when she was sloshing it around in her mouth, pleased that I had remembered that she had said that she wanted to let me taste it. She hummed with a nod, and immediately raised her head, looking up me with what could only be cock-sucking grin, her lips tightly clenched together. She stood up, and I slipped down off the counter. We kissed. 

That's how it tasted. If she liked it, I did too, couldn't help not liking it, if she sucked my cock so good and wanted it. She retrieved her tongue and sort of growled, then demanding: 

"Now me, on the table."

She didn't wait for me to help her up on it, spreading and drawing her thighs up, exposing her already glistening pussy. Sitting on the chair was going to be too high for me to lick it. I almost tossed the chair aside and dropped to my knees. Even if I had liked the taste of what she had shared with me, her pussy was going to taste better. 

She dropped back on her elbows with a moan, as I did. A pussy must offer more variety than a cock for an eager tongue. She moaned, as my tongue explored the possibilities. Now that she knew she was going to get hers, she couldn't be in a hurry for it, would also want to enjoy the anticipation. Even if she had enjoyed sucking my ball as much as I had, it couldn't taste as good as everywhere my tongue was, and especially not there where she was most wet. She moaned, as though she were agreeing with me, and dropped down on her back on the table, her hips rolling up. That wasn't suggesting that I should lick there, where I now knew she would want me to, to have her orgasm. 

Oooh, she was drawing her thighs further back, turning her hips up even more. My tongue slipped down from her so wet opening. Funny, there was a little ridge of skin there. Was that how it felt for her tongue, when it rubbed on the back of the head of my cock? And she liked that my tongue was, chuckling. Did she know about the little ridge, and make the connection that I had, or did it just feel good? As good as when she licked mine? 

Hnn? She had suddenly drawn her knees right down by her shoulders, so quickly that my tongue slipped lower, when her hips rocked even further up. It almost touched her there, where she liked me to rub her with my fingers. Was that intentional? It was! She murmured: 

"Lick, there." 

My lecherous sister wanted me to do that?! If she did? Why not? I had seen it and thought it didn't look nasty – kind of cute – and I had washed it. Why not? It was going to be funny to feel it move when my tongue licked it. 

It did; it was, and she moaned with a chuckle. Of course, she knew it would feel good, and could only be pleased that I did what she wanted. And I liked it too, feeling it contracting under the tip of my tongue. Sweet little asshole; it liked that, wanted the tip of my tongue to probe. It did. She moaned. She liked it too: she and her asshole and the tip of my tongue, all of us. 

Was this in the book, or had we discovered it by ourselves? My tongue probe. She moaned again. Shit! Well, not shit, but it was wanting to it to probe more, her clean, little asshole wanting to squeeze the tip of my tongue! And she moaned again. When did she want me to stop, want me to lick and suck on her little pearl? 

Oh! Something else was moving. I opened my eyes. Her fingers were rubbing over it! And how! As fast as they could. She couldn't wait for me to do that? She wanted it both places? Well, of course, she had wanted me to rub her when we had fuck and and last night, when we both had rubbed, more, had our fingers in each other. Did her asshole want the tip of my cock in it? And when it contracted, her aroused pussy did. She wanted to have her orgasm this way? If she wanted to!

She did, the way she was moaning, then gasping and moaning, and her hips twitching. If I recognized the signs, she was going to. I opened my mouth wide to keep my tongue where she wanted to feel it, and my upper lip past the mouth of her vagina, hoping I could catch her pussy juice in my mouth. 

I did. God, it really spurted, my mouth full of it! My tongue forgot what it was supposed to be doing, drawing back in my mouth, when I had to swallow, but from her aroused sounds, she didn't mind. Her so busy fingers stilled, and she gasped and moaned, pulsing moans, almost sounding like she was chuckling. She could have been; we had done something we hadn't expected, and it had been so good for her.

I hope she also wanted me to fuck her, like that time before. My cock did. Without waiting for her to recover, I stood up and plunge it in her pussy. 

She gasped, and her eyes popped wide open. She looked totally surprised, shocked, as though she didn't know what was happening, gasping again, as my cock pumped in her so wet, tight pussy. It did a couple of times more, because I was fucking her as hard and fast as I could, before her still shocked expression made me think that it had been a mistake not to wait for her to ask me to. Too late, I was already, the slave of my cock! She gasped again, still with wide eyes, and again, and then her hips rocked up to meet my thrusts. Her thighs drew back, and she grasped them below her knees, and I grasped them at her hips. I wasn't going to stop fucking, couldn't! 

Then she moaned between her gasps, almost growling, and suddenly exclaimed: 

"Oh God! Yes!" and her pussy juice was flooding my pubic hair and running down warm on my thighs, as her pussy clenched my cock, as though it didn't want it to move. But it did, throbbing, and then I had to grunt. Fuck! I was coming already, had come!  

I held my hips to hers, feeling her pussy make my cock twitch. Her face was flushed. I felt her pussy juice sliding down to my knees. Her gasps and moans became softer. She gave me tired smile, nodding slightly, and released her hold on her thighs. When they began to drop down, I caught them on my forearms.  She nodded again, this time with a wry smile, and murmured: 

"Shit! I was expecting that, well, not so soon." 

"Sorry. You looked like you didn't know what was happening." 

"I didn't. Well, of course, I did, but I didn't know I wanted it again so soon.

"I didn't either, but you did."

"And how! You did too?"

"Um-hmm, sooner than I want to. No, just sooner than I expected."

I smiled to confirm that I wasn't disappointed that I had come so soon, feeling that my cock was relaxing. She must have too; she snorted and squeezed it. Then she chuckled with a smirk and said: "Before I drip, if you want to."

I nodded, smirking, understanding what she was suggesting. She drew her thighs up to relieve me from having to support them. I pulled my cock and dropped to my knees as fast as I could. I missed the first drip, but caught the rest with my tongue, tasting us both. When my tongue began to lick in the hope of tasting more, she chuckled and protected her little swelling with her fingers to keep it from licking there too. We both chuckled, and I raised my head, smiling at her as I licked my lips. She grinned at me and reached out her arms, suggesting that I help her sit up. 

I stood up and did. Her hips almost slipped off the table. I caught her in my arms, and we embraced and kissed. She chuckled and remarked: 

"You've been licking pussy."

"And not just tasting pussy."

"Um-hmm!" 

The timer rang, surprising us for a moment, but then she grinned and said: 

"I wasn't saved by the bell this time," a reference to our conversation in the kitchen the previous evening.

"No! You didn't really want to be and stay a virgin?"

"Hm-hm-hmmm! Not after I know how good it is not to be one!"

She kissed me again. We separated, and she turned to the sink and got the dishcloth again and wipe her pussy, then glanced at the table, seeing that it was wet. She tossed the washcloth at the spot and started to put the TV dinners in the oven. I wiped the table and the floor. When she saw me wiping up the insides of my thighs, she chuckled, and then chuckled again, when I draped my cock and balls over the edge of the sink. While I was rinsing the dishcloth, I felt the urge to go and began to pee in the sink. When she noticed with a surprised expression, she remarked: 

"Oh, I guess so. Now I have to, too."

She had finished putting the TV dinners in the oven and hurried off, while I washed my cock and balls, snickering as I used the hand towel to dry them. She returned and remembered to reset the timer. We smirked at each other. I suggested another beer, and we remembered that we had left the first ones in the living room. We got them and easily emptied the little that was still in them. Back in the kitchen, we got fresh ones, raising them in a silent toast before we drank. I grinned and said: 

"Since it's too late to continue speculating about what could have happened last night in your short shorts, when you were saved by the bell, ..."

She interrupted me with a grin: 

"Damned bell! In my wet short shorts, I'd have let you do anything you wanted."

"Hmm! In them? They were too tight to do anything in them."

"We were about to take them off."

"Still wouldn't have known what to do, well, rub, of course. Maybe I would have dared to put a finger in your pussy." 

"I wouldn't have stopped you, wanted you to."

"But if I hadn't dared, you wouldn't have asked me to?"

"Oh no! Hmm! But I was holding your cock by then." 

"Oh, yeah, and I was wishing it was back in my pants, with your hand, of course. Wouldn't be the first time I came in my shorts."




A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 04



"But first time with a girl holding it?"

"Of course! It's going to be all over the place, big splotches on my shirt, and I know they leave yellow stains. Had to rinse them out of my shorts."

"Hm-hmm! Oh! I'm almost naked, you can come on me."

"But do you know that I will and want that?"

"Probably not. If you don't want them on your shirt, you'll have move so that they land on me."

"Hmm? Great idea, but I'm pretty sure that solution will not occur to me."

"Hm-hm-hmm! I don't know about all this, and my hand is enjoying too much what it's doing."

"It sure is! And my cock is too."

"So splotches and yellow stains on your shirt?"

"Aren't you going to be leaking on the sofa."

"I hope so! Better, more than you'll be expecting, if you dared to rub your finger in my pussy."

"And if I didn't, just rubbed where it made you moan so much?"

"Then too, just there."

"Fuck! This is going to be a mess!"

"Oooh! You could do that and then wouldn't have worry about stains on your shirt."

"I'm not even daring to think about that, well, enough to think about rubbers."

"But you don't have one, and I don't either, of course."

"So we're not going to do that."

"But we will, the next time, and you will have rubbers."

"The next time? I'm about to come all over my shirt. You're about to make me."

"Hm-hmm! If I knew what I do now, well, not just my hand would be on your cock."

"But you don't know, and I sure don't, don't believe what little I have heard about girls' doing that."

"It's going to have to be on your shirt. Hope your mom has gone to bed and doesn't miss your shirt in the laundry, before you can rinse out the stains."

"Splat, splat, splat! Too late."

"Just three splats? 

"And dribbles, on my chinos!" 

"Hm-hmmm! You've got a real fucking problem!"

"Because we didn't." 

"Um-hmm."

"And you?"

"Pleased, proud that I made you come, but frustrated as hell."

"I didn't do enough, do it right?"

"Not that time, but in bed that night, while I do, I decide that I can tell you what to do better."

"Oh, that's good! Especially that you want to give me a second chance."

"Hm-hmm! But only one! This other guy has been trying to get in my pants, without my encouraging him, but I really like you. So you get a second chance; I don't think he will need one."

"Oh! Competition, you're two-timing?"

"Not really, like I said, but I really want it now, want to stop being a virgin, like most of the girls in my class."

"Most of them virgins, or most of them don't want to be?" 

"Probably both!"

We laughed and drank. The timer rang, and we sat down and ate. I asked her about day at work, and she told me that it hadn't been very interesting, just a lot of books returned on the weekend to be returned to their proper place in the shelves. It occurred to me to ask what kind of other books were on the shelf where "The Joy of Sex" belonged. She chuckled and admitted that she had looked, that she had found some decades old books for the engaged woman. Then she had looked in thick volume: "Ideal Marriage: Its Physiology and Technique." That had looked very "helpful," but "The Joy of Sex" with its pictures seemed easier to read. 

"Read?" I asked with a smirk. She grinned, shaking her head, replying: 

"You said it before: 'a picture is worth a thousand words'."

"Hm-hmm! Have to count the pictures to figure out how long a book would have to be to put in all in words."

We laughed and drank. She smirked and said: 

"Besides, even if that book told all that, we would probably still being reading the first chapter."

"Not even that; I would have gone to the pool and left you to read the book by yourself."

"You're right. With that book, I would never have suggested our reading it together."

"My good luck!"

"Mine too!" 

We drank to that and finished our meal. After we had cleaned up, we agreed to watch TV again, sitting on the towel on the sofa. This time, we immediately were closer, my arm around her, fingers cupped around her breast, and she had her hand in my lap, just gathering up my soft cock and balls with her fingers, nothing arousing. Just familiar, I thought, since we knew we would be like that sooner or later, so why not immediately. It stayed that way, just touching it each so familiarly. Probably we were going to do something in bed, but that could wait, and it was nice that we could sit like that without wanting to do more. 

Then the phone rang, surprising us. Vicky sprang up to answer it: 

"Oh, hi Mom. . . . Yes, we're home, just watch TV"

I turned it down. 

"Oh! . . . That's nice. . . . We were planning to call you tomorrow and wish you bon voyage. . . . Yeah, everything is fine here, and thank you for planning our meals. . . . Of course, Mom! . . . You both have a great time. . . . No, we won't have any parties here." 

She turned and gave me a grin. I nodded, appreciating that her nipples only then popped out, liking that they hadn't before from standing naked while talking to our mother. 

"Yeah, I hope it's a good play. . . . Nice that you called, since we would have been disappointed, if we hadn't been able to. . . . And love to you both, too, also from Milt." 

She hung up and shrugged with a smile, her nipples relaxed. When she joined me again, our hands back where they had been, she said: 

"They're going to a play tomorrow night. You understood the rest. Were we planning to have any parties?"

"I didn't think so, but if she thinks we could be."

"Fourth of July? The big BYO open house?" 

"Do we have to keep our clothes on?"

"Oooh! Hadn't thought of that. Hm-hmm! 'Just leave your clothes in our rooms and put your bottles in the fridge.'"

We laughed at her facetious suggestion, fondling each other. I reached over around her and also fondled her other breast for a moment. She hummed and fondled my cock, but then let it slip from her hand and just massaged my balls. We had lost the thread of the plot of the TV program, enjoying now more what our hands were doing. My cock, that she had made swell, rose slightly, but she just let it, her thumb resting around its base, even when my fingers couldn't resist rubbing her nipple. She just hummed in appreciation. After a moment, she said: 

"I know what I would like to do, to try, not tonight."

"Tomorrow, before your period?"

"Oh yeah!" Forgot about it."

"What?" I asked, squeezing her aroused nipple, liking that she seemed to have an idea for something we hadn't done.  

She fondled my balls, letting her thumb rub up and make my cock wag. Then she replied: 

"I want to sit on you again, and see if we can make each other come with just our fingers."

"There and there?"

"Um-hmm, yours not just rubbing."

"But yours, like in the kitchen?"

"Um-hmm." 

"Mmmm! And if we can't, we'd know what else we could do."

"Um-hmmmm! Have to wait to see if we can."

"If your pussy can make us?"

"Sometimes you're pretty astute." 

We both snickered and fondled, her fingers sliding up and encircling my cock. I asked: 

"And if you want to save that for tomorrow? Hm-hmm! Want to think about it all day in the library?" 

"Now that you suggest it." 

We chuckled, fondling. I asked: 

"Any nice young men come in the library?"

"Hm-hmm! Oh yes! I let my skirt hike up when I squat to put books on the bottom shelves."

"I'd better check tomorrow that you wear your panties."

"Just kidding; I'm not that kind of librarian."

"I'll check, anyway."

"Ever go without shorts?" 

"No, not yet, but I bet it would feel good, hanging all loose."

"It isn't now."

Her hand demonstrated that my cock wasn't, and we both chuckled softly, and my fingers squeezed her breast. I remarked: 

"I was really suggesting what you want to do tonight."

"I know, but then you asked that too. Actually, the only young men who come in the library - not 'come' like that! – are nerdie teenagers."

"Girls' younger brothers. Bet they would like to look just as much."

"But I've got my own younger brother. Hm-hmm! Used to think sometimes that he was nerdie."

"Too nerdie to think of spying on his sister?"

"Had to show him everything."

"Good thing that you didn't, when he was too young to know what to do."

"And when I didn't." 

We chuckled and fondled each other, exchanging hums, anticipating, confirming that we were going to do more, teasing each other a little by not suggesting what. This sure wasn't anything like whatever I had imagined being with a girlfriend would be, but she was my sister, and God knows - better leave Him out of it! - I never imagined I would be with her like this. She surprised my by taking her hand off my cock and sliding it down to fondle my balls. Just as well, she had been arousing it too much. As she massaged them, she murmured: 

"Oh, you did that. You didn't mind ... licking there?"

"You asked me to. No. I guess I liked it, since I did."

"That's good. I mean, since I asked you."

"Maybe I kind of already wanted to. We both knew it would feel good, and it liked it."

"It sure did!"

"Felt like I expected, like when it wants my finger in it."

"Hmm? Wanting your tongue in it?"

"Just too tight."

"Just as well." 

"Um-hmm. The best part was that I didn't have to lick you where you fingers were and could catch all your juice in my mouth." 

"Hmmm! You like that, like I like when you come."

"Not more than I do!"

"Maybe we should do that again, like last night. If we took turns again, we might want to do it all over again, like in the kitchen."

"Oooh, I don't know if I could stand that."

"Me neither." 

Her hand slid back up and around my cock. I squeezed her breast, We got up, and I turned off the TV. She picked up the towel, and we went to our parents' bedroom. 

"Doesn't anyone make beds around here?" she remarked, as we continued to the bathroom. 

While she was sitting on the toilet, she smirked slightly and remarked: 

"Usually, I just go in the shower in the morning."

"You too?" I replied with snort. 

She grinned and replied: Tomorrow."

There was still something new we could do, I thought, as I held my cock down to aim and went. After we washed, we returned to the unmade bed, and enjoyed a nice, relaxed sixty-nine. We almost dozed off with our heads on each other's thigh, perfect pillows. I was roused, when she extended her leg from under my head and murmured: 

"If I wake up this way, I'll just want to do it again."

"Nothing wrong with that," I replied, but moved around so that we could sleep with my arm around her. When I held her breast, she nodded and said: 

"Remember to suck them tomorrow, while we're doing that." 

"Of course; haven't sucked them often enough."

"Can't have your mouth everywhere at once."

We said goodnight, and were silent. Before I fell asleep, I was thinking that three time in the evening was enough. I had to give up on trying to count how many times we had on Saturday and Sunday. That reminded me of one of those bits of information that get passed around as a joke, that Martin Luther had answered someone's question, advising that a couple – married, of course – should do it twice a week. I fell asleep wondering if that was more or less than the questioner had expected, then wondering if Luther had thought he was recommending more or less than the norm. 

When I woke up in the morning, we were lying apart. I immediately knew that we were in our parents' bed, and the light through the window showed that it was still quite early. That was good, since the alarm clock hadn't been set. Would we want to do anything before we got up? Not with my morning woodie, after going to the bathroom? Then I remembered that we going to go in the shower. How did her stream look, straight down, arched out? She knew. Was she expecting that it would splash on my feet, even higher up? I chuckled; mine could go anywhere I pointed it. How high up on her, if she wanted that? Would she want to point it, herself? I chuckled again, but too much thinking about; I felt the urge to have to go. 

"What are you chuckling about? Good morning." 

Her hand touched me, and she rolled closer, as I replied: 

"Good morning. I've got to go, and then remembered that we're going to in the shower."

"Um-hmm. I have to, too, now that you've mentioned it."

"If you want to?"

"It was my suggestion." 

We flung back the covers and got up. I was again delighted with the view of my naked sister, hoping she felt the same way, when she glanced at me and my wagging cock. We hesitated a moment, exchanging slightly wry smiles before we stepped in the shower. I realized that I wasn't going to be able to go immediately, and that when I could, my cock was still going to be somewhere near the horizontal. She gave me a brief grin. It faded, and she murmured: 

"It's going to be on you." 

It was, splashing on my knee, all warm. She snickered and twisted her hips, her stream on my other leg. So that's the way a girl's stream arched out, I thought. Then my own did, almost to my surprise, since I hadn't forced it to, like I did when I was aiming at the toilet bowl and trying to go. She was even more surprised, when she suddenly felt it between her belly button and pubic hair. She snorted with a smirk, nodding, as she looked down at it, then murmuring: 

"Could have thought so, with it looking like that." 

For a few moments, my stream was just as strong, but my cock was relaxing, and it was splashing in her hair. She watched it, just chuckled, glancing up quickly with another smirk, and then watching it die down. Hers had already. We both shrugged with wry smiles. 

"Saving water," she remarked, and turned on the shower. 

We didn't save water under the shower; it was too much fun to wash each other. When we stepped out of the shower, my cock looked more aroused than it had with been with my woodie. When I reached for my towel, she hummed and commanded: 

"Sit down; I want to suck it."

Obedient little brother, I turned down the seat on the toilet and did. She grabbed my towel and hers and dropped them on the floor to kneel on. I murmured: 

"You can do that tomorrow." 

"But not what else I want to do."

"Here? Like that, already?"

"Not 'like that', just do it."

"Oh?" I murmured, as she began to suck my cock. 

One doesn't argue with a girl who wants to do that, especially not with my insistent older sister, and never when it was already feeling so good. Did she want to make me come in her mouth and then again in her pussy? That seemed unfair: twice for me but just once for her, even if she was wanting to have an additional fuck before she couldn't during her period. Whatever she wanted!

She didn't want me to come in her mouth. Oh, she did; when she rose up and straddled my legs, she murmured: 

"Almost couldn't stop."

I nodded. Her hand was already guiding my cock to her opening. She sank down on it, as we both moaned. Her vagina felt as tight as it had the first time, but we knew it wanted and could have my cock slide all the way in it in one swift move. It surged, and it squeezed: my cock and her pussy, of course. We moaned, looking at each other with aroused expressions, and let that happen again. 

God, we were good at this! Don't have to tell Him, He's omniscient, regardless of what He thinks about the two of us fucking. 

She leaned back, glancing down at her aroused nipples. I held her, letting her lean further back, and sucked them, licked and nibbled and sucked them. I moaned, when I felt my cock surge in the clutch of her pussy, and she moaned.  I was beginning to think that we were going to do it "like that," have our orgasms – mine, at least – without doing more. Then she drew us closer, forcing my face up from her breasts, and began to fuck, riding up and down on my cock. My hands slid down and under her ass and helped. 

I could only hope that she had started because she knew that she would come; I wasn't going to be able to control my pending orgasm. When I had to begin to groan, I hoped that increased her arousal. It sounded like it. 

"Fuck! Come!" I blurted out and grunted and did, feeling my cock spurting in her pussy. Good girl! She gasped, and her clutching pussy flooded my cock and hair, as she whimpered and growled. Fuck! We had done it! 

She sat, heavy on my thighs, as we both sighed with long moans, feeling in her the aftershocks of our orgasms. We embraced and waited till our breathing returned to normal. Finally, she spoke: 

"I just had to. Tomorrow and then, you know."

"Um-hmm," I agreed, and offered my mouth for a kiss. 

It was a good one, maybe not good enough to make her pussy squeeze my cock, but it did, and it slipped out. We chuckled, and she stood up, still straddling me. Her pussy dripped on me, and we chuckled slightly again. She stepped back and picked up our towels and wiped her pussy and then my cock and what had dripped on me. With mild smiles, we left the bathroom. I said that I would make the bed, and she went to start making breakfast, still naked. 

While I remade the bed, I thought that it was nice that we were both still nude, that it was convenient that I didn't have to worry about my work clothes being dirty, and that we apparently were comfortable with just getting dressed as the last thing before leaving the house. 

We had gotten up early enough that we had plenty of time for breakfast and cleaning up. Getting dressed was really the last thing. When we about to, she smiled and said: 

"Kiss now, better with nothing on." 

It was, our hands all over each other, our hips rocking up together. When we separated, she looked down at my swollen cock and grinned, remarking: 

"Something for me to think about all day."

"For me too, but don't wet your panties."

"Hm-hm-hmm! Maybe." 

We put on our clothes, she going to her room to put on something else, and left for work. 

At lunchtime, when I went to the men's room, about to go, I remembered our remarks and went in a stall and took off my shorts, stuffing them in a pocket. During my work in the afternoon, it really did feel good to feel my cock and balls moving freely in my pants, and they were swing loose. A couple of times, I thought too much about how Vicky and I would spend the evening, and my cock wasn't swinging. After work, on the way home, it also wasn't, not at all as I turned off the sidewalk, and there was nothing in the mail box.  Mail box, "male box?" Her "box," pussy for my male ...? Well, whatever a male put in a girl's "box." What was she going to think about my not having my shorts on and my cock looking like it was? And how was she going to be, still in her clothes? 

I opened the door. She didn't greet me. I closed the door and took a couple of steps before I could look in the living room. 

Damn! Fuck! Some better expletive! She was lying stretched out on the sofa with nothing on, with her arms behind her head. My cock wasn't going to relax. Yeah, there was a painting of woman lying like that, the first painting I saw in a book on art that showed pubic hair, not like those classical paintings, where something hides it, her hand in some paintings. Who was the artist? Did he fuck her, if she let him paint her in that pose? I wasn't a painter, but I didn't have to ask myself if my sister wanted to let me fuck her, especially not, if she wanted me to see her that way the moment I entered the house. 

At least, she was blushing. Yeah we had talked about it's being funny if just one of us was naked. Funny wasn't the word for it! She was smiling a little sheepishly with her red face, and her thighs twitched, and my cock did. Who was the artist? She must know that she was miming the pose of that model. Girls in painting were supposed just to look "nude," not "naked," and especially not smile like that. What was the word: lasciviously. Had she smiled like that before, or I had only now connected that word with the way she was smiling? 




A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 04



Her thighs twitched again, and she chuckled and then said: 

"Wanted to surprise you." 

"You sure did! At least you blushed."

"Yeah, I did, especially when you were suddenly standing there, staring at me."

"That's good, at least, posing like some girl in a painting." 

"Um-hmm! One by Modiliagni. Well, I think he painted her more than once as a reclining nude."

"More like 'naked' I was thinking." 

She had sat up and nodded with a smirk, agreeing: 

"The way I was feeling. Hm-hm-hmm! Wondering if her nipples were aroused like mine were." 

"They were."

"I mean before, when I was just waiting for you." 

"Hmm? Hers probably were, if he painted her like that more than once; must have – well – known each other better."

"Like we do?"

"Fucking right," I replied, only then realizing the word I had used. 

She grinned and said: 

"You shouldn't use language like that, but that's a good idea."

"You're wicked."

"And enjoying it! Shower? I just went – on the toilet."

She smirked, which didn't seem necessary. She followed to our parent's bedroom. I pulled off my shirt, and then smirked, myself, and said: 

"Took off my shorts at lunch, felt as good as I expected."

"Really? Oh, that's good, probably better than without my bra."

"More to feel good than just your nipples rubbing."

"More? Like bigger? I like that."

I unbuttoned my pants and let them drop. She hummed at the sight of my swollen cock, and grinned, adding: 

"Yeah, like that."

"Hm-hmm! A couple of times it was even bigger, well, didn't move so much."

"Why guys should wear jockey shorts."

"Unless they want someone to notice."

"Mmmm! Like in our story, easier for me to hold. I want to again."

I had taken off my shoes and kicked off my pants. I asked: 

"In the shower? I got to go."

What I hoped." 

As we went in the bathroom, I made the connection: she wanted me to go and wanted to hold my cock. As we stepped in the shower, she snickered slightly and said: 

"I tasted it – on the toilet." 

Her repetition of that phrase explained why she had smirked before. 

"Your 'peepee'?" I asked, now only half surprised, using our childhood expression."

"Tasted a lot less strange than you do."

"Why did you want to do that?"

"Curiosity. Well, I guess a lot raunchy curiosity."

"That, for sure." 

We were standing in the shower, this conversation having distracted me from my having to go. Her hand was looking like it wanted to hold my cock, down next to it, her fingers moving a little. She really did want to hold my cock when I went. I did, and her hand did. She hummed and directed it up on her stomach. I snorted and pressed, making my stream rise higher. She chuckled and directed it even higher, but when I pressed again, she was disappointed, it was dying down. Then she really surprised me, catching some of it in her other hand and tasting it. She snorted, giving me a glance, and murmured: 

"Tastes about the same."

"Raunchy!" You wanted to do that?!"

"Guess so; I did. Hm-hmm! Is 'raunchy' worse than 'wicked'?"

"Just more wicked." 

"Oh, that's all right; I thought I was already as wicked as I could be."

"I did too." 

We chuckled and then began to laugh. Still laughing, we began our shower. Then we were chuckling and snickering at the way we were washing each other. We had washed each other's asshole, enjoying it. Then I was surprised again when she soaped her fingers, very surprised, when a soapy finger found mine again and probed. I gave a startled "uhn!" It tightened, but then relaxed, and her soapy finger took advantage of the opportunity to probe deep. 

Oooh! If it wanted to, if she wanted to ... It did again. Oooh! Shit! Slipping even deeper! She thought that would feel good? Damn! It did! What gave her that idea? 

"Me too," she murmured. If it felt good for me, it would for her, regardless of how she came to think so. My soapy finger found her asshole. It felt like it was trying not to keep my finger from probing. She was as raunchy and wicked as she could be! And I was too, wanting to plunge my finger in her asshole and feel hers in mine. My cock was as erect as it could be, and her pussy was probably clutching like her asshole was! Shit! It almost felt like I could come this way, just from her finger moving there! How long were we going to do this? 

Suddenly, the water was cold. We had used up all the hot water. We stopped and moved out of the downflow and washed our fingers. I didn't know what to say. She murmured: 

"Do that to me again, when we do it 'like that', the soap dispenser in the kitchen." 

I just nodded, still a little shocked from what we had done and that it had felt so arousing. I was going to find out how much her pussy contracted with my cock in it, when my finger was doing that again. As we dried ourselves, my aroused cock quickly sinking, I wasn't so enthused by her having explained about the soap dispenser, not liking so much planning. Having sex was supposed to spontaneous, but this was for her, her idea, what she wanted to do before she had her period and then couldn't. When did she want to do it, where? 

"Let's have a beer first," she said, after we had hung up our towels. 

That answered my first question. I nodded, thinking that I had asked for more planning. On the way to the kitchen, I rationalized that if she was just going to be able to suck my cock for the rest of week, she had the right to plan whatever we did this evening. We took our first sips of beer without speaking. I wondered if she maybe also felt like I did. At least, I wasn't going to have to run to the kitchen to get the soap dispenser. When I glanced at it by the sink, it seemed somehow more prominent than ever before. She also glanced at it. Had she noticed my glance? We had another sip of beer. Then she looked at me with a slightly wry expression and said: 

"A little funny, so much talking about it first."

"Um-hmm, what I was feeling."

She shrugged with an apologetic little smile. I felt that I had to reassure her and murmured: 

"But we know that it's going to be very good; nothing wrong with a little planning to make sure it is just like you want it."

"You're sweet," she replied, pursing her lips, and we had another sip. 

I seemed to have said the right thing. She gave me sly smile and said: 

"I want to do it on the bed; I almost had a cramp when I was kneeling on you so long on the sofa."

"Good idea. Hm-hmm! Then you can stretch your legs out, draw up your knees, just wave your feet in the air." 

"If you want. Maybe lock them behind your ass, so you can't get away." 

"Or that too, although I'm pretty sure that I won't want to get away."

"Just 'pretty sure'?"

"Okay, very sure." 

We snickered and had another sip. This kind of planning was fun. I glanced down at my cock, that seemed to have lost its allergic reaction to eavesdropping on this kind of talk. I grinned and asked: 

"And how are you going to make him think it's a good idea?"

She grinned back and replied: 

"Like this morning, of course. That was just a warm-up for now."

"Oh, I could have thought of that," I replied facetiously, adding: "but you said you almost couldn't stop."

"Um-hmm! Maybe I really can't stop this time."

"He won't mind that, but then?"

She smirked and replied: 

"He won't mind, and then I'll be all wet. He'll be where I want him, before he can have any second thoughts about ... , well, taking a rest."

"Hmm! You know him better than I do."

"I doubt it, but he and my pussy know each other very well."

"They do!" 

He hadn't lost completely his allergic reaction to our talking. She stared at him and murmured:  

"Mmmm! You like that, when I say 'pussy,' don't you? You're not going to disappoint me." 

I tried to make him move. He did. She grinned up at me and said: 

"He's listening, nodded. Well, I think it was a nod."

"I do too," I agreed. 

We grinned and emptied the little in our beers.  When she put hers on the counter, she grabbed the soap dispenser. It seemed smaller than it had, when I had glanced at it. We hurried back to our parents' bedroom and flung back the covers. I remembered that she could want to stretch out her legs and sat down in the middle of the bed. She clambered between my legs, dropping the dispenser near my hip. Hardly giving me a glance, she crouched down and began to suck my cock. 

Feeling her sucking my cock, I was completely happy - of course! I meant, completely happy with her planning what she wanted to do, and we had turned it into the kind of spontaneous banter that we enjoyed, and if she wanted my soapy finger in her, I now liked her suggestion of using the dispenser. 

This was only the preliminary for what we really wanted to do. Had she considered that making my cock come in her mouth first would let it enjoy longer feeling her pussy trying to make it come again? It would, if we could do that, and if we couldn't, we would, fucking: sitting up, lying down – which of us on top? 

Those thoughts flashed through my mind in the few seconds before my cock was too aroused to let me think of anything except the sensations that were making it twitch. She didn't do anything to prolong my pending orgasm, and I rocked my hips before a reflex made them move. 

I moaned, and she moaned. Her head was bobbing up and down, and her hand was moving with it on my cock. I groaned, my hips now twitching by themselves, and then grunted, and my cock started to spurt. She moaned, nodding slightly, as her head continued to bob. Then I could think again: we had done it! Faster than ever before? Another time we could enjoy a prolonged cock-sucking. Yeah, the next few days. 

Then I couldn't think any more; she was already clambering up over my thighs, her hand still holding my cock and guiding it to the mouth of her vagina. Fuck! She had been right: it didn't have any time to think about taking a rest; her pussy was descending on it – as wet as she had promised. Tight pussy! We both moaned, but only once; it was all the way in her, her pussy squeezing it. Then she had her arms around me, finding my mouth with hers, and not just her tongue was slipping in my mouth. She had saved some of it for me to taste. 

For a few moments, we kissed, then she raised her head and moaned, then whispered: 

"See? I told you he could," and chuckled in her throat, as her pussy squeezed my cock again.

"Kind of thought so; they know each other so well."

"Um-hmm! So fucking well!"

"You said I shouldn't use such language."

"Unless we're doing it."

"Oh, like that?"

"Like this." 

Her pussy clutched my cock again, and she chuckled in her throat again. I replied: 

"Oh? Like that?"

"Same thing, this or that. And now, 'like that'."

I nodded. "Like that" was with my finger - soapy finger – in her asshole, and her rubbing herself. When I found the dispenser with my hand, she nodded. Behind her back, I squirted soap on the fingers of my other hand. When my fingers rubbed over it, she nodded with an emphatic, encouraging "um-hmmm!" 

My finger was even slipperier than it had been in the shower. Her asshole tightened on it, but when it relaxed, and I probed, it slipped easily further in it. She groaned softly, but nodded, and it relaxed again, and the second joint of my finger was in her. She moaned with another nod, and when I moved my finger tip, her moan was more a chuckle. And now when it tightened, I felt her pussy squeeze my cock. It probably had before, but I hadn't noticed, just aware of what my finger had been doing. My cock liked that, of course, and she did, nodding with a pleased sounding "um-hmm." 

This was being good, just having to wiggle my finger a little to make her pussy make my cock twitch. They knew each other so well, also in the biblical sense of the word; especially in that sense. She – pussy – wasn't going to let him forget why he was there, not with my finger moving in her asshole. 

Oh? We weren't just a cock and a pussy; my sister Vicky's voice: 

"This is good, so fucking good!"

"Um-hmm! Funny, I was just thinking that she, your pussy, wasn't going to let him forget why he's there."

"She won't! She want's you to suck my nipples."

"Hm-hmm! I do, but I didn't know that she knew about them."

"Fuck you! Suck them!" 



A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 05



Oh? We weren't just a cock and a pussy: my sister Vicky's voice: 

"This is good, so fucking good!"

"Um-hmm! Funny, I was just thinking that she, your pussy, wasn't going to let him forget why he's there."

"She won't! She wants you to suck my nipples."

"Hm-hmm! I do, but I didn't know that she knew about them."

"Fuck you! Suck them!"

We chuckled, and she leaned back. The movement on my cock felt good. Her hands offered my breasts to me. I sucked the nearest one, and she moaned with a nod, and her pussy and asshole tightened, reminding my finger to move again. She moaned again with a nod. I sucked and wiggled my finger in her asshole. Pussy and cock renewed their friendship with a hug and twitch, and then several more, before she wanted me to suck her other nipple. 

Then Vicky murmured for me to hold her and leaned further back. I supported her with my other hand, and one of hers dropped down between us, its fingers creeping through our pubic hair. Then her knuckles were rubbing on me. I knew where her finger tips were, without having to hear her moan. 

This was it, what she had been wanting, fingers doing everything they could to make us come! To make pussy and cock come together - one flesh! Damn! You didn't have to think of that expression! But we were, and were doing everything we could to confirm it - or to deny it?! 

Pussy and Cock only wanted to confirm it. Pussy had never squeezed like that before, and Cock was throbbing in her so arousing grasp, the sensations undiluted by having to move in it. Oh, yes, there were desperately moaning groaning and gasping sounds from somewhere, that seemed to be trying to express Pussy's and Cock's desperate desire for culmination, release, relief from the almost unbearable sensations they were giving each other. They got it, finally, and the sounds shifted from gasps and groans to gasps and long, drawn out moans. Cock and Pussy enjoying a last embrace.

It was a minute or two, before Vicky and I regained possession of them. We had dropped back on the bed, she on me. When her legs had extend next to mine, I had wondered where they had been before. They hadn't been locked behind my ass. At least, if they had been, I hadn't noticed, and I sure hadn't wanted to get away. I chuckled. She murmured: 

"Whatever you were thinking, chuckling, it was too good for that."

"Sorry. It was. I just was chuckling about your suggestion that I could want to get away."

"You didn't. That's all right, then."

She raised her head, and we kissed, almost a kiss siblings could share. Just almost; her hips moved, and my cock slipped out and and dropped down. We chuckled. I remarked: 

"Hope you weren't expecting that we would do more."

"Like in the kitchen? Hmm? Maybe, but it was so good, too good to want to do more."

I hugged her, nodding. We lay there quietly. It was nice to feel her lying on me, our stomachs moving as we breathed. Then I felt her dripping on me. I murmured: 

"Maybe wash?"

"Not just 'maybe'." 

We got up and did, just exchanging pleased, satisfied smiles. It was time for dinner. When we returned to the kitchen - with the soap dispenser - and looked at the clock, she said: 

"Good thing that we didn't do that while waiting for the timer again." 

She was right; it would have rung long before we were finished, but we now had to wait for the oven to heat up before we could have another dinner of TV meals. We had another beer. 

Again, we didn't have much to say. What does one say after having had sex like that, especially with one's sister? Could it ever be like that with just a girlfriend, a wife? I had never thought about marriage till then, just assumed that sex then would be, should be the best. Now I had an entirely new concept of what "the best" could be, not just what we had just done, cock-sucking, pussy-licking. Everything we had done was better than anything I had imagined. 

We had had a couple of sips in silence, Vicky also not saying anything. Then she smiled mildly. I smiled in return. She smiled again, this time a little wryly, and stepped closer. Instinctively, I held out my arms. Even if she hadn't been naked or my sister, it would have been my reflex, not that I had ever before felt it. She smiled with a nod and came in my arms. Her breasts touched me, and then her hips. Whatever this was about, it was nice. She looked up at me and murmured: 

"You're the best. Well, I hope not, if you don't mind, but I can't imagine anything better."

"You are too," I replied, embracing her lightly, then adding: 

"Sort of what I was thinking, that all my vague ideas of what could be good haven't been anything like ... well, what we do."

"Um-hmm, like that. I hope not, but doubt it." 

"Hope not too," I agreed. 

I held her closer, and she, me. We kissed, enough that our hips rocked together. She loosened her embrace, and I let my arms drop. She stepped back and murmured: 

"Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

I had a sudden inspiration and replied: 

"The first time has to seem the best."

"Hnn? The first times, all of them, especially tonight."

"Still, the 'first times', then," I replied, trying to justify my previous remark. 

She smiled mildly and replied: 

"You don't believe that, either."

"Just hoping."

"Not very seriously?"

"No," I admitted. 

We both smiled wryly, and drank, more than a sip. She nodded towards the living room, and we went and pretended that we were reading the newspaper until the timer rang. When she put another three TV dinners in the oven, she remarked: 

"Mom didn't know how we burn up calories."

"We didn't either."

"No, but I did think that we didn't want to on full stomach."

"No, it's so nice to feel yours breathing against mine, after we have."

"Yours too, against mine."

We smiled at each other for our shared experience. She remarked: 

"We've got lots of beer."

I nodded at her suggestion. As she got two more, I replied: 

"As long as we don't drink and drive."

We chuckled and drank. I set the table again, and we waited for the timer to ring, sipping in the kitchen, exchanging relaxed smiles. Whatever others thought about what we were doing, we were comfortable with it. We were very comfortable with it, I suddenly recognized, when I realized that we were standing, facing each other, completely naked, unaroused. Would I recall that, when our parents returned home? If I did, it was going to be embarrassing. I wanted to say something about that, but didn't know what, and didn't want disturb our very comfortable acceptance of how we were. 

We had another sip. Then my sister shrugged with a slight shrug and quizzical expression and murmured: 

"Funny, a little, just standing here all naked."

"What I was thinking. Not that it's 'funny', just that it's so nice that we're comfortable with it."

"Very, but just still a little funny."

"Don't want to think about it, when they're back home."

"I sure hope not!"

We drank to that with wry smiles. We had had another sip, when she said: 

"I wonder what they're doing."

"Sleeping at this hour in Europe. Where are they?"

We went and checked their itinerary and spent the rest of the time till the timer rang discussing what we knew about their plans, what they wanted see and do. Vicky recalled that our father was going to visit a colleague or two, who were at universities in Europe. We had finished our beers. With our meal, we started another one. We cleaned up, and then with a nod at the TV, agreed to watch something. I got the towel for us to sit on, and we sat down. 

Like the previous evening, my arm was immediately around her shoulders, my hand holding her breast, and hers was in my lap, her fingers gathering up my balls. There was nothing erotic about it, just a now familiar habit. I did briefly wonder if our parents sat like that, when we weren't around, but then followed the news on TV. Our fingers did move a little, but just unconsciously in recognition of where they were. 

When the news finished, the next program on that channel was a political report from Washington, not the sort of thing we watched, unless our parents wanted to. Neither of us suggested changing channels, and we watched for a minute or two. Vicky's fingers jostled my balls. Without turning to look at me, she murmured: 

"Going to have to use a tampon tonight. Maybe I don't really, but after all we've done, maybe that changes things. Can we do it one more time?"

I moved my fingers and replied: 

"If you want to. On a full stomach?"

"I'll make it easy for you, just sit on you."

"If that's all you want to do?"

"I think so, just move my hips on you; that was good."

"It was, and rub yourself." 

"Hm-hmm! Probably, if you want me to."

"Just wanted to be sure it would be good for you."

"Hmm! How selfless of you! It won't be, unless it is for you too."

"It will be; you don't have to worry about that."

We both purred, and our fingers fondled a little more purposefully, until my cock was too large for her to keep it in her hand with her fingers down around my balls. We each nodded, and got up. She grabbed the towel, and I turned off the TV, and we returned to our parents' bedroom in the late light of the summer evening and to their bathroom. She used the toilet. While I did, she remarked: 

"Don't know if we'll do that again in the morning, in the shower."

"We don't have to. Next week."

"Next week," she confirmed with a smirk, and we washed ourselves. 

My cock had forgotten to listen, while it was doing what it did most of the time. When that thought occurred to me, I wondered if I had peed more often Saturday and Sunday than I had had orgasms. Had she? We were going to have to tell him what we were going to do. 

When she had flung back the covers, she looked at him with the same recognition, and suggested: 

"We can both do it a little first."

"Been wanting to all day, if we can stop on time."

"I did this morning. You said I didn't have to before dinner."

"I'll take your word for it," I replied with a grin and lay down. 

She lay down and waited for me to get comfortable with my head on her thigh. Then we aroused each other the best way to start. She did remember to stop in time. When she stopped sucking my cock, I then remembered and rolled back. With a chuckling moan, she turned around and straddled me, leaning down over me. I liked that she let me guide my cock to her opening and easily found it. We both moaned, as it slipped in, her hips descending on mine. I suddenly thought that beating off was never going to be as good again, now that my cock knew how a pussy felt - or a mouth sucking it did. 

She held still, leaning over me with her hands on the bed next to my shoulders. Her pussy tightened, and my cock twitched, and we both moaned again. Then she hummed, smiling at me in the dim light, and murmured: 

"I just have to have it one more time." 

I nodded, and she sat up. We had to moan again from sensations of the movement in her pussy. She held still again and murmured: 

"It just feels sooo good."

"Um-hmm," I agreed and reached up and held her breasts. 

She agreed with a nod and then began to rock her hips to and fro on mine. We moaned again. As she continued, making my cock twitch and her pussy clutch, we exchanged more moans. Then she rose up a little and experimented with circling her hips. The new sensation made me moan, and she moaned. Her nipples were pressing in my palms. I drew my fingers together on her firm breasts and squeezed her nipples. She gasped slightly, but nodded with a chuckling moan and drew her shoulders back, pulling them in the grasp of my fingers. I pulled in return, and she moaned again. 

Her hips had relaxed, resting on mine again. I twisted her nipples a little, making her moan, and she began to rock her hips again. My cock was loving it, her pussy too, squeezing it. 

"So good," she murmured. I nodded with a moan, delighted by her confirmation that she agreed with my thought. 

For how long did she continue to arouse us that way, just rocking her hips? It seemed like a very long time that we enjoyed the arousal, for me - for my cock - just below the point of no return. I was expecting her to reach down and begin the rub her pussy, but she didn't. Was it being just as arousing for her, so tantalizingly arousing? How long could we both stand it? Why didn't she rub? Did she want her last time take forever? 

She suddenly dropped down on me and muttered: "Oh fuck!"

It sounded resigned, desperate, as though she had given up on our hovering just on the edge; sounded like she couldn't stand it any longer, just had to have it. 

We fucked. I dug my heels in the mattress, and our hips pounded together. We gasped and groaned from our increased arousal and the exertion. I knew that her pussy was clenching my cock, but that sensation was lost in the greater sensation of its moving in and out as fast as it could, as fast as we could slap our hips together. 

"Fuck! Her pussy was wetting me before my cock spurted, but only a stroke before it did! And that was only the first of several thrusts and spurts deep in her pussy, but she had come first! 

She had collapsed on me, gasping and sighing, her stomach heaving against mine. Mine was heaving just as much, and I was probably gasping and sighing just as much, but I was only aware that she was. I was pleased that her last fuck before her period had been so good; yeah, a little proud that I had made her come first, if only by a stroke. 

When her pussy clutched my cock again, it didn't twitch. She rocked her hips to straighten out her legs, and it slipped out. 

"Fucked out," I thought, thinking that we had really had enough for one day, then connecting the expression with my cock's slipping out of her fucking pussy. No, that wasn't nice. Yeah, we fucked, but "fucking pussy," "fucking cock," were crude, inappropriate expressions.

We almost dozed off with her lying on me. Then we stirred and rolled on our sides, our arms around each other. She murmured: 

"Thanks. That was just what I wanted."

"Um-hmm," I replied, and we were silent and fell asleep. 

We rolled apart during the night. I was about to get comfortable again, when she muttered: 

"Oh shit! We forgot," and got out of bed. 

When she left the room, I remembered that she had planned to use a tampon before we went to sleep. Of course, she had to go to our bathroom to get it. I had once seen her supply in the back of drawer in the bathroom. I wondered if she had just remembered, or felt that her period was starting, however that felt, or worse. She returned and murmured: 

"No damage done," and got back under the covers. I mumbled something and fell asleep again.

I was already awake in the morning, when she rolled closer behind me and asked softly: 

"Awake?" 

"Um-hmm. Good morning." 

"You too. Sorry, if I woke you up last night."

"'We forgot'." 

"Yeah, but it's all right."

"'No damage done'," I replied, quoting her again.

"You were awake. No. Hmm! Maybe it will finish on Sunday."

"I hope so." 

She hummed, and I turned back to her. When we put our arms around each other, not really embracing, my hand discovered that she had put on panties. She remarked: 

"Yeah, just habit, I guess; let's me remember."

"You can forget?"

"Sometimes, has happened, forgot to change them."

"Hmm? I guess that's part of it, something guys don't know about."

"Better to find out about it with me. I don't really need the panties; we can still shower together."

"If you want to. Can you go with it in there?"

"Toilet? Yeah, of course, You have to?"

"Always do in the morning." 

We got up and did, using the toilet, and then taking our shower. She immediately washed her pussy, implying that I shouldn't, and only washed my cock. It was still, of course, a little aroused, but our shower didn't have the erotic undertones the other ones had had. We dressed before we made breakfast, and didn't kiss before we left the house. As she remarked: 

"Just like any two brother and sister." 

In the evening, we kept our clothes on and cooked dinner, drinking beer. I actually enjoyed helping her with the cooking. When I said so, she joked that she would tell our mother to have me help her. I complained, of course, saying it should remain a secret between us. 

"Like everything else we do in here," she replied with smirk. 

"Just like that!"

We drank to that. After dinner and cleaning up, we spent a quiet evening. It wasn't difficult. I wondered if we had done so much that we didn't feel the urge, or whether it was just in respect of the fact that she couldn't. Either way, it was nice. When we were getting in bed, she smiled at me and asked: 

"If you want me to?"

"Kind of unfair, very unfair, especially because you also get aroused."

"Still, if you want me to?"

"I'll try not to; don't ask again."

"Just let me know, if you have trouble going to sleep."

We said good night, and lay back to back. I did have trouble going to sleep, but eventually did. 

When I woke up at dawn, I had my arm around her, which was very nice and familiar, but I couldn't remember how we got that way. My hand wasn't on her breast. How many - how few - night had we slept together, and that could happen without my waking up? Oh! I recognized that my cock was stiff and nestled behind her ass. That too, without my having woken up? Oh, I had been dreaming, something very vague, but I thought that girl with the too tight blouses had been involved. We hadn't done anything, like I had told my sister, and we hadn't in my dream, which I couldn't recall, but why was my cock then stiff? Involuntarily, my hips moved, my cock moving in a nice, warm space. 

Vicky responded with an almost silent "hnn?" She could still be asleep. Then her breathing changed, and then after a couple of breaths, her hand discovered mine, and then moved it to her breast. My cock liked that and twitched. 

"Oh?" she remarked softly. Her hand left mine and slid down over her hip and found my cock. She snorted softly and murmured: 

"If it's like that, I'd better do it." 

"I said you shouldn't - too unfair - your then being aroused."

"You're trying to be too fair. I can't let you go to work with it like this." 

Her fingers were now holding it. I replied: 

"If you have to, too?"

"But no one can see, if I wear that bra."

"He'll probably forget, and if I wear jockey shorts.

"I don't want him to forget." 

Her fingers were making sure that he couldn't, and continued for a moment or two. Then she said: 

"Oh, I know; I can just do this, like Saturday morning. That won't be so arousing for me - I don't think - and then he can forget, then I won't mind if he forgets for a while." 

With a chuckle, I squeezed her breast and rolled back. She turned over and pushed to covers down, and found my cock with her other hand. She smiled at me, looking pleased with her solution, and said: 

"Hi, good morning," and glanced down at my cock, adding: "both of you." 

"From both of us too," I replied and made my cock twitch.

She chuckled and lowered her head on my shoulder and began to rub my cock. She hummed cheerfully, and I did. Her hand slowed down, and she chuckled, then remarking: 

"Oh, this is going to be good. We haven't done anything since night before last; should be lots."

"I hope so."

"Hm-hmm! More than Saturday morning? Did you do it to yourself Friday night?"

"Didn't you?"

"Um-hmm, so I guess you did too."

"Like most nights." 

"Oooh, just 12 hours, and now it's been ... maybe 30 hours, two and half times longer. That much more?"

"I doubt it; Saturday morning was more than I can ever remember."

She turned her face up with a grin and said: 




A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 05



"'Cause I did it so well!"

"You sure did! A natural talent, even the first time."

She chuckled warmly and watched her hand, and I watched it, more humming than moaning, enjoying after all our experience together that it wasn't being so overwhelmingly arousing, as it had been Saturday morning. All our experience together was also manifested, when she released my cock and let it bob up. She rubbed the back of his head with her index finger, chuckling at the way she could make him surge up, murmuring: "Nice plaything." 

She did that again, and then just held her hand up, watching him. He moved a little with each heartbeat. We watched him. He rose very slightly each time, but slowly began to sink down. She chuckled again and stroked him there with her finger until he rose up again. Clear liquid was oozing out of his little slit. She chuckled again and said: "I can do that." 

With her finger, she caught the thick drop that was drooling down the front of his head and licked her finger, humming and smacking her lips. She waited for him to begin to sink down again. When she finally wrapped her fingers around him again, she turned her head further down towards him and whispered to him: 

"Don't disappoint me; you know what I want - lots of it, all over the place. I know you want to, and I'll try to do all I can to help you." 

I chuckled and made him twitch twice. She drew her head back up and said: 

"He was nodding again."

"He sure was," I agreed. 

After that, I didn't have to make him twitch, on the contrary, I was trying to keep him from twitching, but just trying to, and then trying to keep my hips from rocking up. She moaned in empathy with me. When I couldn't keep my hips still, and my moans turned to groans, all our experience together was manifested again. She recognized that I was about to come, and just before I had to grunt with a stronger rock of my hips, she turned my cock towards her face, and I felt her open her mouth. 

I grunted and came. My - his - first spurt shot up towards her face, but missed her mouth. She gave a disappointed sounding "Uhn!" but continued to make him spurt again and again, despite the thick, white drops on her face. When there was trail of thick drops down to my pubic hair, her hand stilled. 

"Enough," I murmured, then thinking that I should have made it question. She nodded. She licked her hand and then wiped her face and licked it again. She nodded again with a chuckle and replied: 

"Enough, plenty, a lot, and all over the place. Have to do that again and learn to aim better."

We both chuckled, almost laughing. She wiped up the other drops, licking her fingers, then remarking: 

"We can do that again. Yeah, I go a little wet when I taste it, but not like when you come in my mouth."

"Still a little unfair, but if you want to." 

"Sunday or Monday, you'll make up for it."

"I'll sure try," I agreed and slid my hand to her breast and squeezed it. 

We got up. She went to our bathroom to change her tampon, like she had the day before, and then we had our shower, dressed, had breakfast and went to work. 

That was Thursday morning. That evening, she almost insisted on doing that again. I had long since learned not to argue with my older sister, when she was insistent. My remarks about its being unfair were not seriously meant - not when she was insisting on giving me another orgasm. 

When she wanted to again, Friday morning, she had to start with him all small and soft, like she liked to start with him in her mouth, but she also enjoyed starting that way with her hand. Friday evening and Saturday morning were the same. Even though she enjoyed so much wiping and licking it up, I thought it was being unfair and wondered how I could ever make it up. 

Oh, she did learn to aim better. At least once, his first spurt landed right in her open mouth. I was as pleased as she was, thinking that for good target practice, one had to have a dependable gun that shot the same way every time. When I told her that, she laughed and said that we had one, shaking my cock. 

Saturday, we had to buy food from Mom's shopping list and buy beer, which wasn't on it. There were some clouds, but we remembered our talk about my having wanted to chat up a girl in a bikini at the swimming pool and Vicky's having offered to play the role as such a girl. We drove to the nearest town with a pool, to avoid running into someone who knew that we were siblings. 

We had a lot of fun. She found a place to spread out her towel on the grass. I wandered around, ogling bikinis, well-filled and less well-filled ones. I even got a couple of glances, that suggested that if I had spoken to the girls, they wouldn't have minded. If I did this again without my sister, I thought I wouldn't be so shy about trying to chat one up. When I smirked to myself at the thought that if I did, and it worked out, now I certainly wasn't going to have to worry about what to do. 

A girl almost winked at me. Because she had seen my smirk? Yeah, whatever, the girls were also watching out for guys, some of them, enough to make it interesting, maybe because I was stranger at the pool? But I had a date with my sister, and was supposed to be the bashful guy I had been a week before. I wandered to where she was lying. 

We had a lot of fun, enjoying our role playing, trying not to let our expressions show that we were wanting to chuckle. Eventually, we got almost as close as another couple we saw, who obviously already knew each other, close enough that we could whisper and joke about what we were doing. 

When we agreed to go home, we got up and held hands as we left the pool. During the drive home, I told her about my girl-watching. She snickered and wished me luck. 

Briefly: the sequel to that was that a guy at work had seen us and joshed me about it at lunch on Monday, asking if we had spent the evening together. He said that she was attractive. I made up a story, suggesting that we were going to meet again. At lunch the following Mondays, his questions and my story continued, to the entertainment of the others in our group, with their suggestions of what I should do to get her in bed. They helped me continue my story, not that I immediately was as forward as they thought I should be. With their encouragement, however, by the end of August, I could admit that we had, that she had let me. Vicky got a weekly update on our supposed summer affair, of course, enlivened by her comments, which also enlivened my story. 

Back home, we had a shower to wash off the suntan lotion that we had spread on each other as part of our role playing. Naked again in the kitchen for the first time, we had a beer, leaning against the opposing counters. I noticed her slight tan line and remarked: 

"Your nipples are still just pink."

"You wanted them to tan?"

"Just wondered if they would." 

"We can still found out. Hm-hmm! Maybe your cock has a little."

"It's just blushing, 'cause you're staring."

"He can still blush? Didn't know he could see that I was; just knew that he could hear."

"He has all the five senses."

"Hm-hmm! All five? I know he can feel, but taste and smell too? 

"Maybe I help him with those two."

We chuckled and drank. I thought we were too close to talking about sex, considering that she was still having her period.. We were silent and had another drink, another good one, since we thirsty after being out in the sun. We had another one. Then she swilled her beer and emptied it. I finished mine. She put her empty aside with a slightly wry expression and said: 

"I'm going to do it anyway, even if I drip. Sit on the counter again."

I did, obedient younger brother. As she turned the chair to sit between my legs, I found myself saying: 

"And then I will."

She looked up in surprise, then asked: 

"You really want to?"

"I said so; I'll risk it. If you can pee ...?"

"Yeah, probably okay; I've rubbed and nothing happened. Well, I mean, It was just about the same, except that my pussy had something to squeeze."

"Better?"

"Not as good as your cock, didn't twitch and move." 

We chuckled, and then she was sucking my cock, It seemed as though she was doing it with the pent up eagerness of not having done it for a couple of days. But then - all our experience together - she stopped and massaged my balls, until she could suck one in her mouth. I hummed cheerfully in appreciation and enjoyed watching how I could make my cock twitch. When she let my ball pop out of her mouth, she glanced up and said: 

"You don't have to, if you'd rather not."

"I will; I shall," I replied, remembering the fine grammatical distinction between mere intention and absolute commitment.

She nodded with a little smile and began to suck my cock again. Maybe she had understood my distinction, my assurance that I would lick her pussy. She didn't do anything to prolong my arousal, and I didn't want her to; feeling her sucking and licking my cock again was just too good. I only wanted to come in her mouth as soon as I could. I groaned, and she moaned, and then my hips rocked, and I grunted and came, and she moaned, as though she was delighted to feel my cock's spurting in her mouth again. It sure had!

When she raised her head, she murmured: 

"I just had to swallow it all."

I understood her apology for not being able to share it with me. I nodded with a slight smile and murmured: "Table." 

She rose up and pushed to chair aside and backed up to the table and hopped up on it. Before I could drop to my knees, she had dropped back on her elbows and drawn up her thighs. Her pussy looked as attractive as ever, already moist. Yeah, the string of her tampon, but it wasn't going to stop me from licking her pussy. I wanted to taste her again as much as she had wanted to lick and suck my cock and taste me, and I could also lick her asshole again. 

I did it all, even twitched on the string, surprising her, but she chuckled with a moan. She let me lick where her fingers had rubbed the previous time on the table, but I loved to do that, even if I wasn't going to be able to catch her pussy juice when she came. When she did, it flooded my chin. I did catch a little of it, and it didn't taste any different. We could have been doing it the previous days, I thought, as I raised my head. It was a few moments before she recovered enough to raise hers.  

We smiled wryly at each other. She remarked: 

"Oh, that was good - again! You didn't mind?"

"Hm-umm, it was; I didn't."

"Have to remember that," she replied with a slight smirk. 

Was she thinking we were going to keep doing it, when our parents returned, when she had her next period, or was she thinking about having sex with a boyfriend in college and encouraging him to lick her pussy, when they couldn't fuck? 

I stood up and helped her off the table, and we embraced, just kissing a little. We washed ourselves with the dishcloth. I didn't say what I was thinking: "If Mom knew!" 

We agreed to start cooking, choosing one of Mom's more ambitious meals that had references to pages in "Joy of Cooking." We snickered, when we read the title, recalling that "The Joy of Sex" had been the catalyst for all we had done. I found the book on Mom's shelf in the kitchen and thumbed through it, remarking with a grin: 

"No pictures."

"What did you want see? How to make little meatballs, cook sausages?" 

When she snickered, I did, understanding her reference to little meatballs and sausages, and replied: 

"Don't think you need pictures for that; you just roll them in your fingers, the balls, and, well, I know how you cook my sausage. Hm-hmm! A picture of how you like to eat sausages might be inappropriate in the cookbook." 

"It sure would be! And without one, I'll probably blush at the thought of how I do, when I bite into one." 

We laughed. I snickered again and said: 

"Especially if you bite into the end of a hotdog and it spurts a little."

She moaned with a long chuckle, nodding and grinning, and replied: 

"Yours spurts first, and then I have to bite a little to swallow."

"Just 'a little,' thank goodness. Maybe if you have to bite before it spurts, you won't make the connection."

"Hmm? Probably anyway, just looking at it, a wiener in a bun, worse - better - a fat German bratwurst."

I nodded with another grin and suggested: 

"With a beer?" 

She grinned and nodded, and I got us two beers, and we drank, chuckling. She then asked: 

"What do you like to eat - that's in a cookbook?"

"Hmmmm? What's in a cookbook that looks like what I like to eat, which isn't?"

We smirked, and drank again, both having to think. Then Vicky grinned and answered: 

"Peaches, nice round peaches. You know, soft peach down and their seam."

"Oooh! Yeah! I love peaches; they're so sweet, and sometimes pink, and soft and delicious to lick." 

"Don't make me wet again!" Vicky replied, as I licked my lips and hummed, staring at her pussy. 

I nodded, retrieving my tongue, just smiling. We drank again and turned to start cooking, agreeing on what each of us would do. After a minute or two, she remarked: 

"Good thing I didn't suggest that you might like hotdog buns, and then your telling how much you liked to have your 'wiener' in them."

We snickered. I nodded and replied: 

"I would have, though I like to think of it more as a 'fat German bratwurst'."

"It is; why I thought of that. Had one at the Germans' Octoberfest last year, and it did spurt, when I bit into it, but not where yours does."

"Hmm,?! Do all German girls think about that?"

"I didn't, back then."

"But if they have, like you have, now?"

"Hm-hmm! I hope so! Maybe why bratwursts are so popular?"

We snickered again, and she suggested that I find a girl of German descent and ask her: "after you get her to suck yours."

We chuckled and concentrated on our cooking, having to flip between pages of the cookbook. Mom had planned that we didn't have to worry with stirring something on the stove, just try to coordinate the cooking times so that meat and vegetables would be ready at the same time. 

I had completely forgotten about our being naked, until the last thing was on the stove, with just a few minutes to cook. Pleased with ourselves, we set the table, and then debated if we could celebrate with a bottle of wine from Dad's stash. Vicky suggested that we could, sending them a postcard to their next hotel, thanking Mom for her good advice and explaining that the meal was so good that we thought it deserved wine. 

She wrote the card, while I found a younger bottle of red wine, thinking that we could maybe replace it. I managed to uncork it, my first attempt with a corkscrew. When everything was ready, we were quite pleased with ourselves. 

At the table, I toasted my sister, like our Dad did Mom. She smiled, and we drank. We agreed that Mom's cooking was probably better, but were still pleased with our efforts and enjoyed our dinner. I was a little surprised, when I suddenly recognized that we were naked, sitting at the table, eating a meal with wine, like we often had with our parents. I didn't say anything, but did raise my glass in a silent toast to my sister. Her nipples popped out when she raised her glass - without my having stared at them, just noticing, as we drank. She must have felt them; she shrugged slightly with a slight smile, as we set our glasses down, but whe didn't glance down at them or rub her arm over them. My cock liked that, just moving a little. 

We finished our meal and the bottle of wine, smiling as we emptied our glasses. This was being nice, very nice, admitting that I was feeling the effect of the wine. Why not, Saturday evening, even if we couldn't do as much as we both probably would like to? We had almost three weeks to do that. 

In bed that evening, we did what we both could, and did again in the morning. When Vicky suggested that we stay home and in the afternoon, that we go back on the patio, it occurred to me that she might be waiting - hoping - that her period would end. Of course; I did too, wondering how she could recognize that it had. Late in the afternoon, she said that she had to go. Since we both had usually felt the urge, and I didn't, I assumed that she wanted to change her tampon. 

When she returned, she just shook her head. I had been right, but we both knew what we were hoping. 

We cooked another one of Mom's dinners, a simpler one; we could have more TV dinners when we could do everything, anything we wanted. Before we went to bed, she again went to our bathroom, where she changed her tampons. She returned with a grin. 

I thought it was a little indecent how eager she was to fuck. Oh, I wanted to, too, but, well, it was a little too much about just getting my cock back in her pussy again, not that I minded, when it was, especially not, when it was feeling better than her sucking, and a lot better than her hand-jobs - as good as they had been. 

When she woke me up early Monday morning, wanting to suck my cock, that was only an preliminary to our fucking again. I owed it to her, but of course, I wanted to, too. That evening, we did the whole routine in the kitchen: her sucking, my coming; my licking and her coming; and then fucking as hard and fast as we could. The timer for heating up the oven didn't ring before we had both come again. 

After that, we slowed down. We knew we could do it every evening, night or morning, seldom more than twice, sometimes only once, but always by mutual consent. The last few days before our parents returned, we talked about what would happen, about how we could we could try to forget what we had been doing in the kitchen and their bed, reminding each other that we had to remake it and have our story about doing all the the laundry, their towels too. 

Then she suggested that if we wanted to, couldn't help but want to - I had nodded - that we could test if our aroused noises could be heard in their bedroom. We took turns, one moaning and groaning, while the other listened in their bedroom, both doors closed. We were going to have to be quieter. We tested that, When I couldn't hear her, she told that she had held her hand over her mouth. I tried that. She said that she thought that I usually grunted louder than I had. Of course, we practice that. That was an evening when we did more than we had usually been doing. Only then did it occur to us that sixty-nine solved our problem. 

They returned, pleased that everything was in order and that we had thought also to wash their sheets and towels. We survived that, hoping our slight blushes were only understood as a reflex to the compliment. 

For the rest of the summer, we took turns sleeping in each other's bed, sixty-nine, when they were at home. We didn't do it every night, and not every night, when we did, did we both really have to, but, of course, when one of us wanted to, the other one then did. If she came in my bed and wanted to suck my cock, I couldn't help but then want to lick her pussy, and vice versa, when I went in her room. And when our parents weren't home, we did everything we couldn't, when they were.

It was only about six weeks, from the end of July until we went to college, Vicky to a women's college quite near the city where my men's college was. We were both going to have roommates whom we didn't yet know. We agreed, of course, that we wanted to continue, deciding to say that we were cousins to explain our same last name. At the beginning of the term, we both were a little the envy of our classmates, immediately dating. 

But that is a different story that may be told. 

I was in my now divorced sister's small guest room, after another night with her. Despite all we had done together, it was rather amazing that we hadn't done anything the first few years of her marriage. We had in college and even while she and her erstwhile husband were engaged, and then when they were estranged before their divorce and since then. 




A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 05



Her eleven year old daughter, Lynn, had awakened me to say that she was going to be in the bathroom. Since then, I had been recalling how it had started with my sister Vicky. Suddenly, the door opened again, and Lynn stuck her head and a bare shoulder past it. Hadn't she had something on before? She smiled and said: 

"The bathroom is all yours."

She closed the door, and I got up, now with a morning woodie. I grabbed my pants, hoping, trusting that Lynn was in her room, as I darted in the bathroom. While I was taking a shower, recalling the ones with her mother, and then shaving, I remembered that Lynn was going to spend the day with a girlfriend, then what that implied. Vicky and I were going to have most of the day alone together. That was why she had been so delighted that I could spend the weekend! I was too! She was going to like that I pulled on my pants without finding my shorts. Would she risk forgoing her bra with Lynn there? Her panties? She had before, and we had done everything we ever had, but just one forenoon. Now, all day? Twice that way: cock-sucking, pussy-licking, fucking? If she wanted to? 

But first, we had to wait for Lynn to leave. 

Nothing better could happen than what Vicky and Milt had already done - so many times.