17 comments/ 94850 views/ 31 favorites Birthday Present For My Sister Ch. 01 By: leBonhomme This story is related to the series about Fire Island and Sandy with the same first person character. There may be some inconsistencies in details, since those stories were written quite some time ago, before I discovered Literotica. "Our" older sister had a minor role in Fire Island. In this story, although "off stage," her role is more important. This story will related closely to one about Martha, our family's Norwegian au paar that year, which must have been 1972 or 1973, since the book "Joy of Sex" is mentioned in the Sandy series. The era should be mentioned to explain some naiveté r elative to what a teenager today can read and see on internet. In May of my junior year at Columbia, my younger sister had her eighteenth birthday. I expected that our parents would give her something big - jewelry, a fine watch - even though they were also going to let her go on a trip to Europe as a high school graduation present. I had asked her for hints about what I could give her, but she said that only a big-brotherly hug would be nice. Well, it would be, for me too; she was well-built, not that one should think about one's sister that way. Our married older sister had almost too much upstairs. But then two days before her birthday, she called me at Columbia and said that she had an idea, that it wouldn't cost any money, and explained: "You're going to have a summer job in the City and said it wouldn't start as soon as your exams are over. What about spending a week with me on Fire Island? I already asked the parents if my girlfriend and I could, but they wouldn't have that. Hadn't expected them to; just suggested it to soften them up for the idea that you - big brother - chaperone me. They agreed, if I could talk you into it. We'd have to open up the place, spring cleaning, you know. You asked what you could give me for my birthday. You can forget the big-brotherly hug. And I will try to cook for us." I wanted to give her something, and really didn't have anything better to do for the few days before my job started, and if the weather was good, it would be nice to get a little tan and not look like a wan bookkeeper. I agreed, and the parents agreed, with instructions about what all we had to do, and admonishes about what we couldn't do: let her go on the beach alone "with or without her bikini." Of course, we understood that they meant in either a one-piece suit or a bikini, but we all grinned at Mother's choice of words. She promised to plan meals for us and get the food. That was a couple of days after the big birthday party, a dance. Maybe it wasn't a big-brotherly hug, but dancing with her was about the same thing, when she whispered in my ear thanks for agreeing to her suggestion for a birthday present. That was nice, and she seemed to think so to, continuing the dance with her breasts against my chest. The Saturday after my exams, everything was ready: food packed and menus, our gear. Father admonished me to drive carefully and repeated their other instructions. When we were out of the city traffic, she thanked me again for agreeing, telling me that it was one of her nicest birthday presents, was going to be. I must have said that I thought it was a nice idea. Then she was silent for a while. We drove on. I was thinking about the things we had to do to open up the house after the winter, probably also wash salt spray from the windows, thinking about doing those to the east in the morning with the early sun for my tan, and so on around the house. She is being silent, but then says: "I'm going to go topless." "You're not!" "Can't stop me." Drive safely! I pulled over and look at her and said: "You are not going to go topless." "Why not?" She isn't looking at me. "You know why." "We all are going to on the Cote d'Azur; don't want to look like a prude American. The others are also going to try to." "Try to what?" "Not have white boobs." "And your group's guide - chaperone - is going to let you?" "Hm-hmm! If we all do, she can't do anything. You can't either. Hm-hmm! Try to put a girl's top back on." That was a ridiculous suggestion, and I had to chuckle, recalling that sometimes it could be difficult enough to get a girl's bra off, even if she wasn't objecting. She had me there; better not argue. This was going to be more interesting than I had anticipated. I pulled back on the road, and we drove on in silence, while I wondered how it would be: a week with my half nude sister? And Mother had said that she couldn't go alone on the beach "with or without her bikini." Nothing about her going on the deck with only half of it. And I was suppose to supervise her? She had already told me that I couldn't stop her, and was right! We managed to talk about what we had to do at the house, agreeing that we didn't have to do immediately more than the necessary: our rooms, kitchen, check the hot water heater. We didn't say it, but we were both eager to work on our tans, but after what she had said, that was going to be ticklish. I usually wore speedos - my gymnastics – but was now glad that I had a pair of boxer trunks. We got to the house before noon and put the food in the refrigerator, turning it on. I turned on the hot water, and we made our beds, helping each other in hers and then my room. When she asked if there was anything else we really had to do, I knew what she was thinking, and anticipating the worst, that she was going to demonstrate her resolve to go topless. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything else we had to do. Maybe I didn't want to. She didn't take off the top of her bikini until she was out on the deck, lying down on her towel. Was she blushing? Maybe; her nipples were aroused. Nice pink nipples! Shouldn't appreciate seeing your sister's nipples! If I wanted to work on my tan, I had to join her. Boxer trunks were only hopefully a protection. When I was putting them on, my cock was already showing what it thought about the situation. I had seen several girls' breasts, but that didn't inure me of seeing my sister's - or probably any other girl's - and hers were the ones I was seeing, and they were at least as good - whatever that meant - as the others I had seen. Did she have to sit up and rub suntan lotion on them?! Ursula Andress came to mind. [I'm writing this many years later and have since then seen nude photos of Ursula. She had delightful breasts, but my sister's were a little larger, and quite firm, from the way she was rubbing lotion on them. Ursula's probably also were, but I was seeing my sister's, and she didn't have the bit of baby fat she had when she first wore a bikini, before our parents thought she should, discovering that she had bought it by herself.] I adjusted my cock in my trunks. Sooner or later we were going to be on the deck together. She could only wonder why, if I hesitated any longer. What did she know about boys and their cocks? At least, she had her eyes closed when I went out. At least, I hoped that she really did, as I gave in to the temptation of looking at her. They were firm, hardly sagging to the side, firmer than those of a couple of girls, who had less. Of course, she noticed, as I lay down my towel. Could she think why I chose to lie on my stomach, lying as near to her as we always had - but not with her bare breasts exposed. At least, lying that way, my face turned away from her, I didn't have to look at them and could hope my cock would relax. "See, nothing to it. Oh, I blushed when I took it off, and again when I saw you looking at me, but I expected that the first time, why I didn't want that to happen in France." "You're really going to, there, all of you?" "I'm more sure now than I was, at least if a few others do. Want me to put lotion on your back?" I agreed with nod. She must have been looking at me, since she immediately sat up and turned to do so. We had done that before, so it shouldn't have been unusual, but it was; I was wondering how her breasts moved as she was rubbing the lotion on my back, then also on the back of my legs. When she lay down on her breasts - stomach - she was going to expect me to do the same. If my cock thought that was arousing - I thought it would - she wouldn't be able to see it, however, She lay back down, apparently again on her back, since she didn't ask me to rub it, put lotion on it. A few moments later she said: Oh, you can look, should, so that I get accustomed to it. I guess you have seen other girls'; shouldn't be anything new. ... You have, haven't you?" "Um-hmm." "Oh, that's good, ... not just seen them?" "Um-hmm." "Hm-hmm! Even better." Thank goodness that she didn't ask more; I could imagine what a further question could be: how, not just seen them; how many; what else I had done with the girls? Don't ask, please! She didn't, but she had to be wondering, and my thinking about how I could answer such questions, recalling the girls and their breasts and what we had done, wasn't conducive to letting my cock relax. Eventually, she turned over and asked me to rub her back, put lotion on it. I did, also on her thighs, just like I always had - I thought - but she remarked that it felt good and rolled them apart, inviting me to spread the lotion further down on the insides of her thighs. She liked that, too, and my cock also did. Was it going to be like that all day? I spread lotion on my chest and stomach and legs, and risked lying down on my back. Okay, I could hold my hands over it, just wanting to let the sun tan my fingers. It even relaxed a little, until she remarked: "You used to wear your speedos, like men do in Europe. Hm-hmm! Even briefer than your speedos. Aren't they going to be - you know - aroused, if all the women go topless?" I sure would have been, and replied - biting my lip when I heard what I had said: "Is that what you want to see?" "No, just asking. Well, that would be interesting too, of course. We should know, before we do it." "You can look before you do; you won't be the first ones on the beach." "Hmm? If they all are, already, seeing us wouldn't change things, and if they aren't, it wouldn't matter if we took off our tops." I thought that some guys might find the sight of her more arousing than ..., well, that their cocks could think she was more interesting, like mine was now. Did she have to ask! "It doesn't bother you, does it?" Lying on her stomach, she couldn't see how it was. Was she asking about that, whether my cock was aroused? Would she be so direct? Should I tell her that it did bother me, that my cock was aroused? Now more by her talk than the thought of being able to see her nice firm breasts. Oh, they were bothering me too, now that I thought of them with those adjectives! I had hesitated too long; she repeated: "Does it?" "That you are wanting to go topless, which you know you shouldn't be doing - with me or anyone else." "We talked about that and why. And you are just my brother, a safe person to experiment with." Yeah, I thought, just keep thinking that, and I will try to, too. We spent the rest of the day like that, not talking about it. My cock got accustomed to my seeing her naked breasts, most of the time. We took showers before she cooked dinner. Watching her in just a t-shirt and panties was an exception, but I escaped to set the table Mother always insisted that we couldn't eat in just swim suits, and I also had a shirt on. While we were eating, she said: "I know the parents said "no alcohol," but we'll surely drink wine and beer in Europe, and I will at college. Before I get drunk the first time, and with someone who wants to do more than he should, I think it would be better to experiment with you, know what it's like." I agreed with her logic and - also wanting a beer - agreed to get some the next day. She smiled. Only after she had, did it occur to me that her experimenting with drinking and what could happen with "someone" was not such a good idea in connection with her going topless and almost asking what I had done with girls whose breasts I had seen. Did her nipples pop out when I agreed? Hard to tell, since they were always evident through her t-shirt. I helped wash up after dinner, and we watched TV until we agreed to go to bed. I didn't immediately go to sleep, of course, not after having spent most of the day with my half-naked sister. I was the breakfast cook, so up early, showering and shaving and in the kitchen before she then joined me. Damned! Couldn't she wear something for breakfast at least? Oh, she had on the bottom of her bikini, but rules about meals, she couldn't sit at the table with me with her bare breasts. She did, just smiling and saying: "If I'm going to anyway, and want to get accustomed to it. Her nipples weren't yet that accustomed to it, but that didn't make it better. Oh, it did, the view of them! While we ate, I guess they did get accustomed to my glances at them – still looked too attractive. Evan my cock seemed more comfortable with the situation, to my relief. Maybe it would all be all right, just her getting experience with going topless in preparation for what she hoped would happen in France - almost a good idea, an excuse. We cleaned up in the kitchen and did some of the other things we had to do, agreeing that we could do the others mornings, before it was warm enough to work on our tans. I even managed to enjoy watching her breasts move without getting aroused, maybe good experience for me, should I one day be on a beach with topless girls - girls with tops, bare tops. Out on the deck, we applied lotion to ourselves and each other. Had she planned that she waited till I had done her back, and then said that I could do her front too? I didn't, but my cock thought it would have been a good idea, and I did too, to be honest. But I didn't, and we sunned for a while, propped up on our elbows. I got more at ease about glancing over at her breasts, and they didn't seem to mind. Hey, just a pair of nice naked breasts that happen to be your sister's, who wants to let you see them. No big deal, nothing wrong with that. Didn't brothers see their sisters' on the Cote d'Azur, and what about all the cultures where women never wore anything above their hips? I was listing the ones I had heard about: Tahiti, Gauguin's paintings; Hawaii, back in Captain Cook's day, Samoa (I had read "Mutiny on the Bounty" and "Coming of Age in Samoa"), Bali, and all those remote people in Brazil who didn't wear anything at all (not in the pictures in National Geographic). What did they think was erotic? As I was justifying our situation, she ruined it: "You must have slept with those girls, at least a couple of them." It wasn't a question; I didn't have to answer, but I felt my cheeks flush. She didn't look, thank goodness! But then she did ask, still not looking at me, but her nipples had popped out: "Have you?" "Yes." "More than one?" "Yes." "Oh, that's good. I thought you must have, three years in college, doesn't everyone then? And all your muscles from your gymnastics. Girls must be impressed, at least when they see them." She had been right about the last, but they had only gotten to see them when we already pretty naked. Oh, a couple had seen me at competitions, a couple more, but I hadn't slept with them all. And why was it good that I had slept with more that one? "I haven't," she murmured. I sure hoped that she hadn't! She didn't have to tell me that, but she had. Why! Thinking about what? Her nipples had popped out again, or still were; I hadn't been looking at them all the time. What was she thinking about to make them pop out again, or stay aroused? Not my glances, since they hadn't the several times I had glanced at them before. I looked at the horizon, like she had been doing since her first remark. "You have," she murmured. Her nipples looked even more aroused, if possible. "When, the first time?" Before I could think of how to reply, she added: "Was it good? People say it probably isn't the first time, especially for girls." Who were "people?" Well, I had heard that too, and my first time - like most guys - I had come before she did, before I had any idea how a female orgasm could or should be. But I had been lucky, very lucky. ["Fire Island 1960 something"] Was I supposed to tell her about that, tell that it had then been good?! And what about girls' first times? While I was still pondering, a much too thoughtful expression in this context, out of the corner of my eye I see her look over at me; she really wants me to tell! I turn my head and see her quizzical expression - and that she is blushing. She should be, asking her brother about his sexual experience! "Was it?" she repeats. Damn! I wanted to tell her, but should I? I shouldn't, but if she had asked twice, she would probably ask again; she could be very persistent, like her getting me to spend the week with her - for this discussion?! Forget about the girls, at least, just agree: "Yeah, I've heard that girls' first time isn't usually too good. "And yours?" I had been right, persistent. Was I also blushing? I took a deep breath and said: "Yeah, the first time, not so good. Oh, I came, like in about two seconds, but of course, she didn't." "And then? You did it again, better, and she did? When was that, where did it happen?" "That week I was here with our sister and new brother." "Hmm? Did they know? Oh, you were also then eighteen. Who was she?" "I hope they didn't. Oh, they may have suspected something; he ..." Didn't want to tell her about the rubbers! "He grinned when I said that I was going to a party Friday evening." "And you did? Your first time? Boys can come that soon?" This was getting sticky - too many questions - and she was looking at me with wide eyes, no longer blushing. But her nipples were aroused - still or again. When she saw me look at them, she smiled with soft chuckle. I replied: "They can; no and no." At least, I could leave out telling about that evening. "Not your first time? Before that, that week?" "Um-hmm." "Who was she?" Was I going to tell her that she was several years older, married, that I spent most of the week with her? Just that it was one day and not that she was married: "An older woman, well, probably thirty, ..." "Oooh! Really!?" "She saw me body surfing fairly early one morning. Yeah, my muscles did help; she thought I was older, and suggested that we go to her place, and then wanted to sunbathe nude. Was I embarrassed! But we did. Afterwards, of course, I understood why, that she wanted to, but at first I was just trying not to be shocked, just wondering what would happen." "And it did, you did, your first time?" "Um-hmm." "But just two seconds, and she didn't, but obviously wanted to. Nice, that she had more experience. I hope you did it again, and then better." "Yeah, we did, and a lot better, for her too." "Oh, that's good! You were lucky." "Very!" She grinned at me, and I grinned back, liking that I had managed to tell about it in just a few words, hoping I had satisfied her curiosity. I was also pleased that my cock hadn't moved, even though I glanced at her breasts again. This time I saw that her nipples did pop out, but she just smiled and said: "Yeah, go ahead and look, feels good - so that maybe they won't in France." "Guys will look, probably more at yours than at other girls'." "Hmm! More reason to try to get accustom to letting them." We both chuckled, smirking slightly. It was beginning to be fun to able to talk about them, to admit that we could talk a little about sex. She liked it too, smiling and remarking: "Look again, before I turn over." I did, and then we lay on our stomachs, our faces towards each other, not speaking for a couple of minutes, just enjoying the sun. My eyelids were half-closed. Then she murmured: Birthday Present For My Sister Ch. 01 "I would like it to be like that." I opened my eyes. Hers were still almost closed as she continued, almost as though she were just talking to herself, continuing: "You know, not like a first time after a drunken party, or in his car after a hot date, maybe his first time too, both freshman - 'two seconds.' Don't you think?" She wasn't just talking to herself; she had opened her eyes and was looking at me. I nodded, and she did, adding: "And it shouldn't be his first time." I nodded again, and she smiled slightly. For a few more minutes, we were silent, almost dozing in the warm sun. Then she stirred me again, asking: "When are you going to get the beer? I don't want to get drunk, but should know when I have had enough, well, I guess only after I have had one too many. I can make lunch while you get it." "Yeah, the beer. What's for lunch?" "Have to chuck Mother's plan." We got up. It suddenly occurred to me that someone on the beach could see us - see her - when we were standing up. It wasn't likely, since there were few people around so early in the summer, and they would be more likely to be facing the sun, looking south, away from the houses. Oh, what had happened to that nice woman? Were she and her husband still renting the same house further down the beach? Be kind of funny to run into her again. Of course, she would also be discreet; still funny to think that it might happen. Back in the house, I told my sister that she should always wear something going to and from the deck. Her nipples popped out again, as she nodded and agreed, unconsciously wiping a forearm over them, then remarking: "Funny, didn't have to do that, just happened." "Just as well, at the suggestion that someone else might see them." "Um-hmm, but I like it when you do." I didn't reply that I also did, just thought it, and went to my room to change. As I was pulling up my underpants, I heard her say: "Soup and sandwiches. Oh!" She must be standing at the door to my room. I hoped that her "Oh!" meant that she had just looked up and seen me after looking at the plan for our meals. I glanced around and saw that she had it in her hand. She gave my a wry smile and said: "Sorry. Should have thought of that. Didn't see anything." "Didn't want to, I hope." "Oh no! Hm-hmm! But if you ask ..." "I didn't," I replied returning her grin - and enjoying the view of her. She stood there, watching me put on a shirt and long pants, apparently also enjoying that I hardly needed to watch what my hands were doing. Voyeur or exhibitionist? Same difference, both enjoying it, but since we were, could I be a voyeur if she were an exhibitionist; or could she be an exhibitionist if I were a voyeur? Didn't the one have to believe that the other didn't know? Surreptitious: secretly looking; secretly showing? Nothing secret about how I was enjoying looking at her and how she was enjoying that I was, exchanging smiles. Maybe it was a good suggestion that I get out of the house and drive to buy beer. On the way, some of our conversation went through my mind. She was right, of course, that it would be better that her first time wasn't after a drunken party. We were going to do something to try to avoid that, despite parental rules, but it was really a good idea. A boy with more experience, not a freshman? She wouldn't have any trouble attracting the attention of sophomores or juniors, even seniors, but if they assumed that she also had more experience? She sure looked like she could have, should have, with her figure. Not "should have," of course, but guys could think that she was older, that, well, girls built like that had been cheerleaders, had done something with the captain of the football team. I got the beer with no trouble, two six packs from the refrigerator. If I was going to let her experiment, might as well start at lunch, just a light meal, and I wanted one too, after all our talk. On the way back, I thought about it some more, just wondering if I could suggest that she avoid freshmen - if that is what she wanted to do - and then wondering how, what I could suggest about avoiding a first time with some guy who assumed too much. Then I was wondering about my being a big brother and wanting to help my little sister have a good first time. Back at the house, she called: "Get it?" and then appeared, still just in her bikini bottom! I could have been expecting that, but it was still a surprise. It must have been for her too, seeing me all dressed; her nipples popping out, and she looked a little abashed. She didn't have to ask, seeing the bag with two six packs. Did the little muscles that make nipples tighten like that get stronger with training, like those of athletes? She smiled with a nod, and then put her fingers over her nipples, rubbing them slightly. Why couldn't she have just brushed her forearm over them again? Why didn't she? She dropped her hands said: "Go change; I'm staying like this. Beer with lunch?" I nodded and followed her to the kitchen and put the beer in the fridge, seeing that she had made sandwiches and that the soup was on the stove. I went to change back into my trunks, wondering now about her so demonstrably touching her own breasts. Sure, I had seen her spread lotion on them, but that was only normal, just rubbing her hands over her nipples, even if they had popped out. I needed a beer; wasn't alcohol a relaxant? She must have tasted beer before; most girls remark about the taste the first time; she didn't. The Campbell's soup was good, as were her sandwiches. She was obviously thinking this was her experiment about drinking, finishing her first beer quickly. I emptied my can and got us two more. "If I'm going to," she remarked, raising it and drinking. I drank with her, and we finished eating, finishing our beers while we were cleaning up, just nice and relaxed. So she was half naked? No big deal; nudists don't think it is erotic. As she was hanging up the dishtowel, her thighs twitched, and she remarked: "Ooh! Got to go," and hurried to the bathroom, not closing the door. She did. I did too, but waited till she returned. She could have finished pulling up her bikini bottom before I saw her. I hurried off. Maybe I didn't have to be so loud about letting it splash in the toilet bowl. I did pull my trunks back up before I left the bathroom. She grinned and said: "You had to, too. Another beer, if I'm going to?" I nodded, and she got two more cans, nodding towards the deck. "Shirt," I said. She handed me the cans with a grin and went and got her t-shirt, putting it on as she returned, letting me see her pull the shirt down over her breasts. It came back off as soon as we were back down on the deck, moving our towels around to face the sun. We pulled the tabs of our beers. When I sank mine in my can, she also did. We hadn't done that at the kitchen table. We drank. I knew that three cans of beer wouldn't make me drunk, just maybe a little - well, "relaxed." I had seen girls drink too much, but not intentionally. My sister wasn't petit, so three cans probably would not make her really drunk, but if she hadn't drunk that much before? She grinned at me and had another drink. She was serious about her experiment. She took a smaller drink and grinned at me. Did girls' nipples respond as much when they had been drinking - the little muscles more relaxed? "This is just great! Thank you for coming out here with me, and being such a good sport about this." She gestured at her breasts - and relaxed nipples - and took another sip. Yeah, I was being a real good sport, thinking about how her first time could be good. I took a sip. She grinned at me, maybe a little foolishly, different than before. She looked off in the distance, and I did, but then noticed that her nipples tightened again. Was she thinking about something that overcame their beery lethargy? Without looking at me, she said: "I told you that this was really my nicest birthday present, but our sister's also was." I couldn't remember that she had given her anything special. "She also didn't know what to give me. Finally, I got up my nerve and asked her to tell me all about men, ... yeah, about sex. Oh, she was good about it, just a little surprised that I asked, but agreeing to. Oh, it was good; she just let me ask anything I wanted and answered. Hm-hmm! Told me some things that I didn't ask, that I hadn't dared ask. Mmmm, and some things that I didn't know to ask. Oh, it was great, and she said that it was good that I asked, like your telling me that my first time should be good. You know, not drunk ..." she raised her can and had a sip: "and hopefully not with a boy that also didn't know what it was all about." She glanced over at me for my response. I nodded with a smile. She had talked long enough that I was no longer surprised by what she was saying, liking that my sisters could be so open with each other. She snickered and said: "Did you know that they did it the weekend they met, she and our brother?" "She told you that?" Hm-hmm! She didn't recommend doing that, my thinking that I would marry a guy I wanted to jump into bed with. That was towards the end of her telling, maybe to mention that. We were really getting open about talking about it all. I had heard about that, but hadn't thought that she would do it, that any nice girls would." I wasn't going to ask what she meant, just assuming ..., waiting for her to continue: "Have girls done it with you?" "If I know what you mean, yes." "Oooh! And they liked it? She said it tastes funny, but that she wouldn't have it taste any other way. They did, liked it? She said that she hadn't before, just with him." "A 'nice girl,' just doing it with her husband, or future husband." "But those girls weren't. Maybe nice, but only one of them could be your future wife." "None of them, but they did, and I know they liked it; didn't just do it once." "Oooh! She said he just loved it." "She was right." "You do too? Heard that it tastes yucky." "Listen to your sister. It does taste strange." "You know? Oh, I guess you could taste it, if you wanted to." "And wanted to kiss girls who did." Maybe I was getting a little drunk. I sure hadn't expected to be telling my little sister all this. "Oh, like that! Both of you? I mean, she and you, my brother and sister. He does too, the other way; do you? She likes that too." "Anything she didn't tell you? Yes." "Oooh! Have to think about this, hearing that you both do. I was wondering if they were ... like, 'special,' you know, that it was unusual." "Don't know about guys; some girls don't want to do it, some didn't even want me to, but the ones who did - want to do it - admitted that they weren't so sure before, but then liked that they had dared to." "Hmm?! Really? Well, I guess they would have to dare to, before they could know. And then they liked to, liked it?" "Still admitted that it tasted funny, but like our sister told you, ..." "Got to think about this; I wasn't sure I could believe her." "You can." She looked over at me with a funny expression, and we both drank. She wasn't going to have to ask me about what I did my first time. And our sister had jumped into bed - or wherever - with him, and hadn't sucked a cock before, but admitted that she could have. How many? Shouldn't ask; I had licked more pussies than I should have, not for moral reasons, more than I thought myself that I should have, all the ones I could. That wasn't a good thought; she asked: "You like to do it too? Is it good? She likes it?" She took another sip, and I did. Of course, I did, and she - all of them - had too, the ones who had let me. I nodded, murmuring: "Yes, yes, yes." "Oh." We both looked off at the horizon. She took another sip, more than just a sip, having to tip her can up higher than I had to, when I also drank. Was she drunk? Or was she just using drinking as an excuse for being so direct? Was I? I sure had never thought that I would be talking about this with her. What was she going to ask next? I wasn't going to say anything. We continued to look off in the distance. She took another drink, obviously emptying her can. She glanced over at me, and I also drank, then both looking again at the horizon. She took a deep breath, her breasts rising, her nipples popping out. She exhaled and took another deep breath, holding it, and then murmured: "We could. ... I mean, you know all about it, and I want to. ... And we have all the time in the world, wouldn't be like in the back of a car or after a drunken party. Hmm? Well, maybe, right now! But I want to." "Not with my sister." "Why not? Oh, she also gave me some rubbers. Why not? You both want my first time to be good, and, of course, I do too. When could I be sure that he was as understand as you are? I couldn't, and you are. What better way?" "You're my sister." "And you're my brother. It wouldn't be like with some guy who thought that we loved each other, you know, thinking that it was - maybe I also thinking - that it was the start or confirmation of something more." "It should be." "But it hasn't been for you and all those girls." "Just a few." "Same difference. Hope they didn't think so." "Still, you're my sister." "And that's good; we know that won't change, that we know that it has nothing to do with our maybe falling in love with someone else. And just this week." Did she have to look at me with that expression? Expectant, longing, her nipples all aroused? "We shouldn't." "We should. I want to, with you. The answer to all my questions: best first time, and everything else, like she told me. I'll do anything you want, that too." "We shouldn't." I hadn't said that I wouldn't; her arguments were too good. Didn't I want her first time to be as good as possible? But with me?! Her brother?! We shouldn't! "I want to. That doesn't matter." "It does; we shouldn't." "If we don't, we're going to spend all week wishing we had." How did she know that I also wanted to? Was she going to keep telling me that she wanted to, every day? One last word: "We won't." She frowned. I also wasn't happy, but I had said it. I emptied my beer can, thinking that she couldn't be really drunk, since she had mustered all the arguments why we should. We should?! We shouldn't! We spent the rest of the afternoon in silence, very pregnant silence. It wasn't like her not to say anything for so long. Oh, we had laid down and dozed off - the beer - so we weren't so consciously silent for so long. "Got to go again." At least she didn't have beer-drinker's bladder. As she went back in the house - forgetting her t-shirt - I suddenly thought about her pussy, where she would be going. Did I have to think about that?! I shouldn't. Did she play with herself, her fingers rubbing it, in it? She must, if she was so interested in doing it. Her fingers in it, no "cherry"? Of course not; never knew a girl who was that much of a virgin. Did she give herself real orgasms? If she did - could - she didn't need to experiment with me. Or would she be more disappointed, more frustrated if some freshman didn't know what she needed? Worse than just being disappointed because it wasn't good, but not knowing how good it could be, should be? "Should be?" Like she wanted me to do it?! And we were going to spend the whole week together, just the two of us, and with her telling me that she want to? Did she have any more arguments? When I saw her return, I said "shirt." She grinned and stooped down, and returned to her towel. Why had I rolled on my side towards her? To see her lying the same way, facing me? "Sure, look," she remarked. I already had, did again, wishing I had studied more girls' boobs, seeing them sitting or standing, lying, or, like my sister, now lying on her side. I had seen them one way or the other, but not a pair each way. Oh, also lying over me, letting me suck them. That was good with the smaller ones, made them seem like a little more. Of course, they were all good to suck. Did I lick my lips? She smiled and murmured: "She said that she liked him to suck them. No, she said that she liked guys to suck them, had liked guys to suck them." "They did too. That must have been an interesting conversation." "Oh, it was. They just kept popping out, like now." She didn't have to tell me, and now my cock was enjoying it, trying to creep up from my thigh. Did she notice? Her eyes had darted down. What did she know about cocks? She smirked and said: "Oh, she was real good. Drew me a picture, telling me where guys were most sensitive. Hm-hmm! A mugshot, front and in profile." Damn! She must have seen it, reminding her of that, and probably now could see it even better, and knew where it was most sensitive! Our older sister was going to be responsible if we did. Had she told her about how to make it feel good, doing that? What had she told her about guys doing it? What was her pussy like? Lots of hair? Didn't matter; I had liked licking ones like that. But you're not going to lick your sister's! If she hadn't seen my cock before, she sure could now. I didn't have to look to know that it was pressing against my trunks. Her eyes darted down again. She didn't have to smile! What did our sister's picture show? Life-sized? She was getting an impression of that. Fair enough, since I had been looking at her nipples all day. But enough: "Supper, dinner, showers first" I said. "Okay, but it was just getting interesting." "Why I said that. Shirt." She sat up and looked out towards the beach, then with a grin stood up and let me watch her put on her t-shirt, again making a demonstration of pulling it down over her nipples. An exhibitionist, I thought to myself, so you're not a voyeur, just pleasing her by looking. We went back in the house. I had to go to the bathroom, and "went" while taking my shower. With just my towel around me, I went to my room, calling that the shower was free. She hurried to the bathroom, taking off her shirt as she passed my open door. I was about to put a a pair of bermudas with nothing under them, but then did put on jockey shorts, making sure that my cock wouldn't be uncomfortable if it wanted to move. She also didn't use the toilet, no flush. Pulling on a polo shirt, I went towards the bathroom to tell her to wear clothes. I almost went in. In the past, we had both been in it, while one was showering, but now I didn't thank was such a good idea. Oh, it could have been, she maybe pulling back the shower curtain, but I wasn't supposed to give her an excuse to show me more. I called to her, and she called back that she would. Maybe we could forget talking about sex, if we both had something on. We did, enjoying preparing our dinner, she also in shorts and polo shirt. I was expecting her to suggest that we have more beer, but she didn't. While we ate, we talked about what else we could do the next days. Oh, we didn't say "what else we could do," just talked about going down on the beach, maybe going to dinner in a restaurant. She did kid me with the suggestion that we could get up early and go body surfing, but we only chuckled about that, despite the obvious implication that she was recalling that I had told that my first time had started like that. I liked that, that we could still talk around the subject without getting back to her insistent "we should." We cleaned up in the kitchen. I was tempted to pat her bottom, but didn't. We agreed to watch TV again. When we had agreed on film, I sat down on the sofa again, a little surprised when she plumped down right next to me. That was nice, like a nice date in a movie, better, since there wasn't an armrest between us, and in the cooler evening air, it was nice to share our body warmth, our thigh in contact. Had I forgotten that she was my sister, when I put my arm around her? She liked that I had, leaning closer to me. Nice, but when she drew my hand down on her breast, I did remember. Did she, or didn't she, did she do that on movie dates? I managed just to leave it there, cupped around it. It was firm. Birthday Present For My Sister Ch. 01 That was all right for a while, but then her fingers encouraged mine to move. When they did, just a little, her nipple popped out. If that is what she wanted? My fingers did, playing with it. "Um-hmm," she agreed softly. I had been right to make sure my cock could move without my having to help it around. Her thigh twitched a couple of times, but she didn't do anything to suggest that we do more. Despite my cock's aroused twitches, I liked and respected her not letting it go further. Had I convinced her with my "We won't!" She must have been just as aroused, however. How could it be otherwise, my finger rubbing occasionally back and forth over her aroused nipple, acknowledged with soft hums. What would I do, if she just ignored my remark and started something? I knew what could develop in our position: turning together, kissing, maybe sliding a hand up under her shirt, maybe she wanting to fondle my cock through my shorts, then inside them. It had happened before, not always going that far, but sometimes going even further - all the way. What would I do, if she - her thighs twitched together again - started something? I didn't know. With these thoughts, I was ignoring the film, but my cock wasn't ignoring our situation, twitching in the confines of my jockey shorts, as I recalled similar situations and repeating my question. One thing was sure, when I went to bed I was going to do something about its being aroused for so long. Had our sister told her about that to, that it was a way to keep a guy from wanting to get in her pants? That thought didn't help, of course, just let me wonder more about what they had talked about - a big sister's seminar on everything about men and sex? It was going to be a relief to take the starch out of my cock, plenty of thick, white starch. The film ended. Was she going to?! I still didn't have an answer to my question, at least not about how I could stop her. Did I really want to? My cock didn't want me to, but I could take care of that, would have to; not supposed to have lover's balls thinking about your sister. Good girl! She just gave me a smile and patted my hand, remarking softly: "That was nice. I've got to go." "I'll go later," I replied, immediately wondering if she knew why I said that instead of something that suggested that I would as soon as she was finished. She just nodded and replied: "Then good night, and thank you for a nice day." "You too, both ways." She got up and left. That was good, that she had accepted that it was "good night," that we wouldn't be seeing each other again. Maybe she did understand that a guy couldn't immediately go sometimes. Thanks, Sister, if you explained that. I turned off the TV and lights and went to my room, undressing in the dark, just the light from the bathroom down the hall was on. Now, finally! With my shorts to wipe up with, I got under the sheet and light blanket. This was going to be good. Maybe one shouldn't have fantasies about one's sister, but it was less reprehensible than actually doing it with her - like she wanted. The light in the bathroom went out. As she passed my door, she repeated her "good night." Oh, it was going to be good, the first few minutes, at least. I was torn between wanting to prolong the pleasure and wanting to finish it. Did I want to have my orgasm thinking about her - doing what? - or about the last girl that had made me come. How? In her mouth, or in my sister's mouth? Had her sister really told her how to do that? It had sounded like it. Shit! Crap! If she said again: "We should. I want to, with you," I was going to let her. She had better be as good as in my fantasies. Just as I was reaching the point of no return, I felt edge of the covers move. I was holding them up, waiting for it to shoot up on my chest. Shit! Crap! (again) My hand froze, but my throbbing cock dribbled, and dribbled. What was she doing here? Getting in bed with me! Just like that! I was still frozen stiff, too shocked to move or say anything, but she did: "I have to, too." She did know why I had said "later!" She knew too well, adding: "Don't stop." "Too late," I managed to mutter. "Oh, sorry, if I disturbed you. I just had to." "Hmm? What are you doing here?" "She said we could do it together - not you - that it would shoot all over." She was now under the covers, lying on her side, a bare breast touching me. Her hand slid over my chest and stomach. She murmured: "You said: 'too late.' Where is it?" "She was right, but when you came, I stopped, and it just dribbled." "Oh. Sorry. Then it wasn't as good?" "Better than nothing." "I should have come before - not like that, I didn't, yet - when I first thought about it, but it took a while for me to get up the nerve. Dribbled where?" Her hand slid down and found the puddle, her fingers dabbling in it. "A lot of dribbling. Sorry, if it would have been better. What do you do with it?" "Wipe it up." "With what?" I let go of my cock to find my shorts. It dropped down on the back of her fingers. "Oh, wet too," she remarked softly. I found my shorts and slid them over my hip to her hand. As she wiped up the puddle, she remarked: "Sorry, if it wasn't so good. Want me to wipe it too?" "May as well, now that you've come this far. It won't be sensitive." "Um-hmm, she told me that too. Didn't think my first cock would be all soft and floppy." "Should have come sooner." Hm-hmm! I was trying to, like you were, but then was aroused enough not to care what you would do if I came here." "A lot of coming." "Not yet enough. Can you again? She told me what to do. That would be fun." "Not right now. She must have told you that too." "Um-hmm, but later then, if you'll let me." "Too late now to say no. Just to see if how well she told you." "Oh, you're dear. I want to kiss you, wanted to all through the film." "After you put my hand on your breast." "Um-hmm. Haven't done that before, wanted to a couple of times. Oh, I was afraid you might jerk it away, but since you had put your arm around me ..." "And I was wondering if you always did that in a movie." "Just wanted to. Kiss! If we can do this, if you said I could do that ..." She didn't finish her sentence or wait for me to reply, rolling half on me and finding my lips with hers in the dark, not just with her lips, her tongue too. It is easy to forget whose tongue is trying to get in your mouth. I didn't quite. Had she kissed other guys that eagerly, or had our sister told her how to? Then I did forget, my tongue just as eager, and my arm holding her naked body to mine. All naked, no panties, my hand discovered, no just confirmed; I had been pretty sure she didn't have anything on, since she had said that she had been playing with herself. She hadn't been like this with anyone before, but she just naturally did what other girls had done. She rolled a little further, letting me get my other arm from under her to embrace her, and then her hands were holding my head, as we tried to devour each other's tongue. I was going to do anything she wanted, let her do anything she wanted to do. She? Who? My little sister, yeah, whatever she wanted. Her thighs were straddling mine, holding it, and then her hips were rocking, trying to rub her pussy on my thigh. Anything she wanted: I drew my thigh up between hers. "Um-hmm!" she agreed with a nod, sucking my tongue, and then riding my thigh. It must have been feeling good, so good that she began to moan, forgetting about kissing, as her hips rocked, and my hands were trying to help. She spread her thighs and rocked her pussy down, squeezing my thigh again, her hips rocking again. Was her clitoris now in better contact with my thigh? I was going to do anything to help her have her orgasm. Oooh! My cock was stiff again, brushing her hip. If she wanted to go all the way, it was going to be very difficult to say no, but she could do anything else she wanted with it. And I would with her pussy, too. She was moaning with each rock of her hips: "Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! ..." I knew the sound. Then suddenly she rolled back and murmured: "I've got to!" Her hand shot down and began to rub. A moment later, she demanded softly: "Help me! Fingers!" How many? One first, in her slippery wet pussy, tight, contracting pussy. "Two!" Anything she wanted: two. Real tight, and she gave a surprised moan. My two fingers were bigger than her two, but she didn't complain. I knew something about finger-fucking. Had her sister told her about that too? And I knew something about sucking nipples and that girls liked that. I curled my head and shoulder down and found hers. Finally! Hadn't I been wanting to suck one since the first time I saw them?! She gave a deeper moan in response, and then we were doing everything we could. Her hips began to buck against my fingers. Come! Come! Come! I was thinking, feeling almost as desperate as she seemed to be to have her orgasm. She did, with even more aroused sounds, her body convulsing, as her pussy clutched my fingers and filled my palm with her warm pussy juice. God, she could come like that, spurting! Her fingers stilled, mine didn't, as another spasm wracked her body, but then she held my hand still. But her pussy was still clutching, as another spasm moved her. I was so happy that it had been so good for her. Her pussy tightened again, and she gasped and moaned again, and again, before her hand urged mine to take my fingers out of her pussy - very wet fingers. She sighed with more moans, now softer, and then rolled towards me, hugging me, my arm then around her, holding her hot body. We both sighed a few more times. Then she turned her head up and kissed me and murmured: "God, that was good! Thank you! I just love you." I did her too, at that moment, why it's called "making love." Of course, we loved each other as siblings, but this was something else. But I had to go, now much "later" than I had been thinking after the film. When I told her, she just nodded. I clambered over her, and put the covers back on her, that had slipped off the bed. When I returned, she had moved over. We embraced again, our thighs overlapping. She sighed and murmured: "That was so good. I'll do it in the morning, anything you want." "If you want to. Anything you want, too." "Sleep tight." "You too." We did, before I could sort out my thoughts about what we had done and what we had promised each other we would do. I had woken up before with a girl under my arm, usually awakened by an alarm clock to get her back to her dorm or to get me out of her room on time. My first thought, therefore, was the fear that we hadn't heard the alarm or had forgotten to set it. Then I recognized the lack of the background noise of the City and remembered that I - we - were on Fire Island, and then, finally, that it was my sister under my arm. That I had to think of all that before remembering I was with her in my bed, and then how we had gotten there and what we had done! Chagrined, I rolled back, hoping not to wake her, chagrined that I could have confused her with some other girl, and then more disturbed by the recollection of what we had done. Oh, it had been good, but that made it only worse. Didn't it? It was supposed to. She hadn't seemed to think so; she had wanted us to. She sure had been, been very direct about telling me, and I must have then wanted to, too - my fantasies of her. Yeah, I had been telling myself that I would, if she would just ask me again. She had, and we had. Well, not really, of course; she had only wiped up the mess, and my cock too, and then I had only helped her have her orgasm, maybe not what a brother should do, but not really bad - but it sure had been good! She stirred, then her hand touched me. "Um-hmm, there you are," she muttered sleepily, her fingers then stroking a little. Then she spoke more distinctly: "That was nice; this is nice. Mind if I turn over?" "Of course not, it was - is." She did and murmured: "In the morning." She had to remember that?! And I had agreed that it was nice, that it was being nice! And I had said I would do anything she wanted! Does a man's word still apply, when he has promised to do something he shouldn't, that the other person also knows he shouldn't, and that she shouldn't? Is just "helping" each other - say it - incest? Or, as one girl said: "If we've done all this, going all the way isn't much different." We did. Does that make just "helping" the same as going all the way; or would going all the way not be any worse that just "helping?" Confusing. Confused, I also rolled on my other side, lying back to back with her, but having to think that my bed was just too inviting for doing anything. It was larger than a single bed, sometimes used by guest couples, when I wasn't there or had been asked to sleep on the sofa-bed. This was going to be the first time I slept all night with a girl. "In the morning?" In the morning, I was awakened by her, feeling her arm slide over me and then that she was cuddling up behind me, holding me closer, feeling her breasts on my back before her hips and thighs touched me. I opened my eyes, seeing that it was light, but still very early. Could be a long morning, was my first thought, not sure whether I was thinking that was good or bad, but obviously recalling her last words. Her next ones were: "Oh, this is nice. Hope you don't mind that I woke you. I'm going to like sleeping with someone. Better than waking up alone, isn't it?" Why did she so cheerfully have to ask questions like that? She thought I would know, when I had gone to sleep thinking it was the first time I would spend all night with a girl in bed? Waking up before midnight with the others was a little less than nice. I couldn't tell her that, nor - especially - admit that she - my sister - was the first girl to awaken me at dawn like this. Only one answer, to agree, and it was nice, except for my other thoughts. "A lot better," I replied, wondering why I hadn't just mumbled "yes." "Oh, this is good. And last night. Wow! That was really good! Thank you! I was so horny. What was the movie about? With your fingers doing that, I was just thinking about what else could happen - not in a movie theater - if I could dare turn my face and pucker up, and you would kiss me, and then what could happen. I guess, what I would want to happen, your hand not just doing that through my shirt, what it could be like, if you pulled it up and sucked my nipple. Oh, that was good, that you later did! Better than I hoped, and just when I needed it. You're so great. What were you thinking about?" Another one of those questions: "About the same, some things that had happened." "Oh, that's good. Like what?" "Hmm? That she then also wanted to do something." "Oooh! I did too, didn't want to tell. Oh, I was all wet. Like I was thinking, wanting to hold you there?" "'fraid so." "One did? After I saw yours yesterday, like that, I had to think about doing that. Oh, if you were thinking about that, too, I guess it was again." "Very." "Oh, I like that, that you were too. Well, we know what happened." Her hand had been rubbing my chest and now rubbed further down, just to the start of my pubic hair, but returning, to my relief. My early morning erection had disappeared during all her talking, a little to my surprise, but if she did that again, my cock might respond. After a moment she said: "Oh, this is great, like she told me, that we shouldn't just jump into bed and do it, that we should get familiar with each other first, after we agreed to go all the way." Our sister was right, but she wasn't talking about us siblings, but my little sister was: "I want to do it, like I said last night. She said we should tell each other what we wanted, what felt good. Didn't have to tell you last night; your big fingers were just so good and already doing everything I wanted." I could have told her that she had had about the best finger-fucking orgasm I could remember, but I didn't, and not just because I disliked that I had thought that word to describe it. "Want to go to the bathroom first, see each other all naked?" "Good idea." Talk about being acquiescent! Just agree with anything she says, maybe does? Seemed like it. Birthday Present For My Sister Ch. 02 Our older sister was right, but she wasn't talking about us siblings, but my little sister was: "I want to do it, like I said last night. She said we should tell each other what we wanted, what felt good. Didn't have to tell you last night; your big fingers were just so good and already doing everything I wanted." I could have told her that she had had about the best finger-fucking orgasm I could remember, but I didn't, and not just because I disliked that I had thought that word to describe it. "Want to go to the bathroom first, see each other all naked?" "Good idea." Talk about being acquiescent! Just agree with anything she says, maybe does? Seemed like it. She threw back the covers, and we got up. Maybe I should have been glad that my cock was a little aroused, giving her something to see. We just stood and looked each other up and down, hardly arousing. She had less hair than I had expected, maybe having thought it better not to envisage that she had less. It was a little matted, until she apparently unconsciously fluffed it up. Had I jostled my balls before or after she did that? When had her nipple popped out? Before my eyes glanced up to look at them. Ursula Andress, more Playboy centerfold. She was smiling, when I finally looked at her face. I had been a voyeur till then, but she had been being a delightful exhibitionist. Was she going to watch me use the toilet? She went first, smirking, and then did watch me, chuckling and saying that she hadn't asked our sister about that. "At least one thing she didn't tell, but probably to wash." "Oh, yes. Can't surprise you then, since you mentioned it." "No." Unabashedly she washed her pussy. Was she expecting that I implied that we would do something with it? She watched me wash my cock and balls, then handing me a towel. Talk about getting familiar with each other! And now she was going to play with my cock? As we returned along the hall to my room, it occurred to me that this must be the least aroused I had been when knowing the next thing that was going to happen. She waited for me to lie down, and I did, wondering again about my acquiescence, even helping: "If you want to see it shoot, lie next to me." She smiled with a slight nod, but replied: "She said that I could suck it a little first, that that was very good, didn't have to make you come in my mouth, if I didn't want to. She does, but said some girls don't." "She's right," I replied, recalling that the ones who did were best in bed, and wondering about my other sister: also good in bed; had she surprised her now husband by doing that that first night? Were other older sisters also so open about talking about sex with a younger one? Maybe, if she was so direct about asking. Mine was getting on the bed between my thighs. Her first cock was still soft and floppy, even when she gave me a grin and picked it up, then watching her hand experiment with making it flop, but only a few of times. Then it was just wobbling back and forth, apparently to her delight, from her expression. I boxed the pillow together to support my head so that I didn't have to hold my head up to watch. She was smiling at it. It still wobbled, but less, when it - I, of course - saw her tongue lick her lower lip. It didn't wobble any more, when she hummed and murmured: "Like her mugshot." This was going to be something new, watching a girl - forget it's your sister - licking, sucking your cock for the first time, and in the full light of day. What had her sister told her to do? She had told where it was most sensitive, probably showed her on her mugshot. She had released it, admiring - I wanted to thing - the way it stood up by itself, bobbing with each of my now faster heartbeats. It was tilting towards me, of course. She drew it back with a couple of fingers, and then lowered her head. She sure did know where it was most sensitive! Her tongue licked there, and it twitched strongly away from her tongue. She hummed at the confirmation that she had found the right spot, and licked again, this time chuckling with her success. She licked again, this time holding it more firmly, her tongue still licking. I had to moan, but she didn't look up, lowering her face over it. In her mouth! I couldn't stand it for as long as I wanted to, feeling her lick and suck, making my cock throb in her mouth: "Stop, if you want to see it." Almost reluctantly, she did, looking up at me with a nod, licking her lips. Had she already tasted my precum? She moved up next to me and began move her hand on my cock. She was going to get to see it all right, and she was staring at what her hand was doing. "Tighter," I murmured, wondering if her sister hadn't told her that, or if she hadn't dared to squeeze it that hard. Her pussy would, the way it at squeezed my fingers. Stop thinking about that, doing that with her! I thought I should show my arousal a little sooner that necessary, moaning before I would have as a practiced masturbator. Had I the night before? Had she heard me? She did now, nodding with a hum. For a short while, we exchanged moans and hums, and then my hips began to rock. And then ...! Oh she got to see it, "all over," like her sister had said. I was kind of proud that it had been so much. She was impressed: "Oooh! Mmmm! So much! She was right. Sorry about last night, if that was what you had wanted." "This was better, letting you do it," I replied, realizing that I was only encouraging her to do it again. "And they let you do that in their mouths?" "Not all of them." "But some of them?" "Too few." Damn! I didn't have to say that! She was already wiping up the nearest blob. She sniffed, wrinkling her nose, and then licked her fingers. When her tongue was back in her mouth, she wrinkled her nose again, but then she put her fingers in her mouth. She wrinkled her nose again and snorted with a sharp "Uhn!" Then she looked up at me with a funny expression and said: "She was right, tastes really strange. But they do it? She does it." I just nodded. She snorted again and murmured: "Guess I could too, then." She wiped up another blob and tasted it, murmuring: "Guess so." She looked up at me again and asked: "And you really like it, when they do?" "As good ...," I answered, quickly correcting: "better than anything else," hoping I was suggesting it was better for me than really doing it. But, of course, it wouldn't be for her, and all this was about satisfying her curiosity. Not just curiosity; after last night, it was obviously also about satisfying her sexual desires. She was already replying: "I could do it. That was good before. I liked that, feeling how aroused you were. I was too. ... Oh? You do that too, I mean, to girls. She said that's real good to, if he does it right, even if he doesn't, but that then he can do something else. You like it, like the taste? Hm-hmm! Not as strange as you do - wet fingers." I liked that she had tasted herself, but did I want to encourage her, to suggest that I did? Should have last night, when my hand was all wet from her orgasm. For once, I prevaricated - not much: "It's okay." "If I can, you can." When I didn't say anything, she found another blob, now more runny, and licked her fingers. She looked up me again with smile, as though to demonstrate that she had no qualms about doing it, ergo, I shouldn't, but my qualms were different from hers. Despite the taste, she wanted to do it; I wanted to do it, but thought that I shouldn't. It was just too apparent that if I did that, and she did that ..., well, we could do that again and again all week, but it was too evident that she would want to do more. I hadn't quite finished these thoughts, when she spoke again: "She said we could both do it at the same time, but since you just did, since I just did it to you ...?" Another one of those questions! "Your turn," she continued, then grinned and added: "or mine - to watch." I found my shorts again and began wipe up. While I did, she chuckled and reached down and gently gathered my sack and balls from between my thighs, remarking: "I forgot them, to fondle them, funny, nice. Oh! Now 'I've got you by the balls.'" Her fingertips had curled in around them, holding them, as she grinned at me again and said: "Promise me that you will." She pulled them, just gently. Our sister obviously had told her all about men's balls too. "Tell me you want to lick my pussy, that you will. Oooh, don't think I ever said that word before, not like this." "Just as well. Okay, I want to, will." I tried to make it sound as if I were resigned to having to do so, while thinking that she had moved on from difficult questions to direct demands. She smiled and just fondled my balls again, replying: "And then I will. She said you could come again by then." "She didn't say 'I' could." "No, of course not, just that a boy could again after a few minutes." "You asked?" "Yeah, that was towards the end of our conversation, both of us chuckling about how loose our talking had become. She was enjoying it too. At the start, we had both been pretty nervous about it all, talking about it." "I hope so. Come and kneel over my face." "Oh, like that? She didn't tell me we could do it like that." I had been just to lazy to move, but as she quickly got over me, It occurred to me that she could just scoot down afterwards and suck my cock, which by then definitely would be wanting her to. "Pretty pussy," I murmured. It was - weren't they all - but hers really was: a sweet, young pussy, pink, nice little inner lips, nice soft little inner lips, and it tasted so good already. She must have been aroused when she was making me come. I loved it, and she loved it, responding with surprised moans, and then with aroused ooohs and moans. Could I have assumed that her clitoris was a little more prominent than some, since she had had such an intense and wet orgasm - or had my fingers been the key to release her so good orgasm? Nice idea: fingers as the key to open her, of course, not the real key, sort of a skeleton key - master key - that worked in any pussy, but so did or should a cock, even better and because that key enjoyed it as much. Funny, the thoughts one could have while licking a pussy. Back to enjoying her somewhat more prominent clitoris and letting her enjoy it. Let her nipples enjoy something too. I slid my hands up from her hips and and found her hands already there. "Oooh, yes!" she agreed, clasping her hands over mine. Then she was moaning again, and I was humming. When her pelvis began to twitch against my mouth, her hands left mine. I glanced up and saw her grasping the headboard, and then she was almost grinding her pussy on my mouth with more desperate, insisting moans. Would she come like before, that wet? I hoped so, my tongue doing its best to make her; it would be so good to feel her wet my face like she had my hand, and would taste so good. It was good! Maybe not that much again, but enough, and she had certainly had an orgasm, gasping and almost groaning with pulsing moans, that continued as her body jerked, and she wet my face again, until she finally gasped and turned her pussy away from my mouth. I took a deep breath and sighed, pleased and relieved that I had made it so good for her, and then was aware of my cock, feeling it twitch. She sat back on my chest, still sighing as she looked down at me with blank expression, then smiling and nodding slightly. I returned her nod with my own slight smile. After we both had sighed again, she nodded again and murmured: "Oh, you did that good! You must make those girls real happy." "If they let me." I didn't have to say that! "They don't? They should. Why not?" "Probably don't want to do it to me. Never asked, of course." "Should tell them that you want to anyway." "Hmm? I'll remember. Hm-hmm! Tell them my sister says they should let me." We both chuckled, almost laughing. Then she smiled a little wryly and remarked: "Better not." "And don't you ever tell our sister how good her advice has been." "Oooh! No, I had sort of been wanting to." "At least, not until you've done as much with someone else. I would like to tell her too, but ...!" "Of course not, though it would nice to be able to." "Um-hmm. If you ever do, thanking her, think that it's from me too." "Um-hmm, I will. And now: if those girls didn't want you to for that reason, I do." She began to kneel backwards over me. Had I ever done all this with a girl before breakfast? No! Done anything with one before breakfast? Also no. Had one wanted to suck my cock before we had done even more, all the way? Before I could continue that line of thought, she was getting between my legs. I raised my head. She was looking at my cock, now lying full length on me. I boxed the pillow back under my head to watch her. God, she was clever, not picking it up, leaning down and licking where she now knew it would feel best, licking until it began to rise, until it was so stiff, that it twitched away from her tongue. Our sister couldn't have taught her that. She made it twitch again, chuckling, and then turned her head down over it, and it was in her warm mouth. No hands, but – oooh! - but one fondling my balls again. She drew my cock back so that she could look at me, with smiling eyes, the corners of her lips drawing up, as her tongue caressed. God, she was going to make some man happy! Like her sister had. Some man, some men? But I was going to be the first one; to hell with worrying about her being my sister! It's not nice to admit, but it is easy to forget who is sucking one's cock, easier when one's eyes close with increasing arousal. Mine did. Had her sister told her how to do it, or was it just natural talent? Better than a couple of others for sure, but they had been the ones who didn't want me to come in their mouths. She did; fondling my balls and sucking and licking, my cock twitching; fondling until my sack drew up in a tight, wrinkled ball. Had she told her that that was a sign that I was about to come? "Soon," I murmured. She nodded and began to bob her head, as her hand grasped my cock. She must have told her; have to ask her - my last half way coherent thought before I could only moan: "Uhnn! ... Uhnn! ... Uhnnn! ... Uhn!! Uhn!! Uhn!!" "Uhnn! Uhnn, uhnn, uhnn," she also moaned, vibrating on my cock, first surprised, but then responding with slight nods each time my hips twitched and my cock spurted. It did a couple of times more, both of us moaning, and then I had to hold her head still. That didn't stop her tongue from moving, until I gave a complaining moan and pushed her head back a little. She seemed to understand and stopped licking. I opened my eyes. She was looking up at me. Her mouth closed tighter on my cock for a moment, and then again, and then she smiled at me again, as good as she could with my cock still in her mouth. I sighed, nodding, and she nodded, and then raised her head, still holding my cock with her hand, and really grinned at me, licking her lips. "Good!" she murmured. "Very good! Couldn't have been better." "I did it. Oh, it was good. Swallowed it all. Oh, you said that girls then kissed you." "Next time." Another one of my superfluous remarks! She grinned with a big nod, and then looked down at my shrinking cock and licked over its head before it retracted in her fist. Her other hand had left my sack. She drew it up from between her thighs and murmured: "All wet again; want to do it to me again?" Another question like that! "Peepee - and shower." "Oh, all right. Have to go too." She gave me a wry grin and got off the bed, and I followed her to the bathroom. I had already seen her from behind in her bikini bottom, of course, and not just this summer, but had been reluctant to see her as anything other than my sister. Of course, I couldn't help but appreciate her nice breasts after she had bared them, but now, well, I was past worrying about her being my sister and enjoyed without reservations the view of her good figure. I couldn't remember having followed a nude girl and suddenly recognized that the only straight line was that down her ass - fairly straight, would have been if she stood still. She sat down on the toilet, going with a slight smile. I stepped in the shower and started to go, before I closed the curtain, like I would have any other time, when I had to and was going to shower. I heard her surprised "oh" and chuckle as I closed the curtain and turned on the water, and then heard her flush. Then I was surprised; she joined me in the shower, snickering with a grin and saying that I could wash her back. Of course, we didn't just wash each others' backs. She wasn't successful at making my cock aroused, but not for lack of trying, then asking me how many times a day I could do it. I prevaricated again, replying that I thought four times, while remembering once when I had six times. Did she really look disappointed, or was it feigned? I realized that I was inviting her to try to make me come at least that many times, and it wasn't yet eight o'clock. Once an hour for the rest of the day? It wasn't going to happen! When I said that I would shave, she replied that she would start breakfast. With a ham and cheese omelette, I suggested, and she went off. Still naked, I glanced in the kitchen to see if I should put on anything. No, she was just as naked and nice to view, as she moved, unconscious of my peeking, this time being the voyeur. When I then joined her, her nipples popped out, which was nice, that she was suddenly aware that she was being seen. She had found the ingredients for the omelette and stirred the eggs, but asked me to finish it. While I did, she took care of everything else, and we sat down to eat, just smiling at each other. It was a little - a lot! - surprising how quickly being naked had become, although her nipples did pop out a couple of times, but she just chuckled. I said that I would wash up, and then told her to call home: "before Mother asks us this evening how we spent the day." "What shall I tell her that we are going to do?" she asked with a grin. I was about to say: "just fuck around," but didn't, of course, admonishing myself for having even thought to use that word. She was still grinning, as though she had been reading my thoughts. Anything but that, I thought and replied: "Go swimming, maybe go for lunch, something like that." She nodded and called. Her nipples popped out again when our mother answered, and she blushed as she replied, wiping her forearm over them. Didn't help, they were still erect as they talked, but she managed to keep an even tone as she mentioned what I had suggested. Apparently, Mother was satisfied and agreed. When she had hung up, she scowled at me, rubbing her arm over them again. This time they did relax, but she said: "Next time, you call her." I agreed. She then grinned and asked: "And what are we really going to do?" "Just what you told her." "You know we aren't. I want to sunbathe like this." "What are you going to tell your friends in France, with whomever you share a room, about your suntan?" "Hm-hmm! That my brother didn't look." "Like fish! You'd better not; he did!" Almost used that word again, and I didn't have to tell her that I was looking. She grinned and replied: "Of course not, that I was out here with a girlfriend, one not on the trip," "They'll ask who." "Someone they don't know, a cousin. Yeah, it was her idea, I just went along with it." "I bet. Hope you didn't do anything else." "Oooh! Like that?! We talked about that too, at the end. How did that happen? Oh, she warned me that some girls did, maybe a roommate, that it happened more than people thought." Birthday Present For My Sister Ch. 02 "And she knew?" "She blushed when I asked, and then admitted that she did, had." "Oh, really?" "Um-hmm, like you did - how else? I was a little shocked, but now, why not?" "If I like it?" I didn't have to say that! "She just said that I should be careful - if I wanted to - to be careful that it didn't get known, that most girls also liked boys, but that a few didn't, if you know what I mean, that I could get in the wrong crowd." "For some reason, I think you do like boys." We just chuckled with smirks, and I agreed to sunbathe with her, lending her a shirt that covered her ass and putting on my bermudas. As we went out on the deck, it occurred to me that when we were naked again that she could remember my having said that I could do it four times. We sat down and took off our clothes and enjoyed rubbing on lotion, now front and back - everywhere. I knew that the warm sun would feel good on my cock, that it would get about as big as it could without getting aroused - if she didn't do anything. Did it feel as good on her pussy? It seems so, or she wanted it to, spreading her thighs, then drawing her feet up a little and letting them flop open. Occasionally, I sat up to make sure that no one was getting closer to our deck, and then enjoyed looking down at her - voyeur. But when she opened her eyes once, smirking at me, she was the exhibitionist. Did I just imagine that she had rocked her thighs a little more apart? Maybe, but her nipples hadn't popped out. If she had, it was intentional, not an aroused reflex. Stop thinking about, before your cock moves. The next time I sat up, I avoided looking at her and lay down on my stomach. That allowed me a nice profile view her - including her face - until she turned her head to me. Apparently, she hadn't known that mine was turned to her; her nipples popped up, the one I could see. She grinned, glancing down my body, and remarked: "Nice ass. Tight buns?" Her hand reached over and held one. I tightened it. She chuckled and said: "Now. This is nice. Afraid it would get sunburned?" "Um-hmm. Maybe you should think of that too." "I guess so, but it feels good, the warm sun on it." "I was wondering." She rolled towards me, resting her head on that arm, but then her other hand was on my ass. She murmured disarmingly: "Just nice to be able to touch you." I hoped she meant it. It was nice, of course, but I could imagine that my cock would think so too, if she did more than just rest her hand on my ass. She did, but then she asked: "How big is yours, I mean, compared with others?" "Average, no complaints. Oh, that woman the first time said that I didn't need to worry about that." "Hm-hmm! Guys do?" "I didn't after that. Don't girls? Not you, of course." "Thanks. Some, probably. I didn't like having the biggest ones, until the others started to catch up." "I remember; at twelve or thirteen, ..." "You were looking? "Couldn't help but. "Pity I didn't know. I was kind of proud of them, just not among all the flat girls. A couple of times here, I hurried past your door to the bathroom in just panties, hoping you would see them." "Hmm! Pity that I didn't know." "Yeah, but now you do and have seen them, can see them, more than just seen them." She still hadn't moved her hand, but my cock was liking our conversation a little, and I could see them, one resting on her towel, the other one just hanging slightly. At least, her nipples hadn't popped out; she wasn't finding our conversation arousing, just "nice," as she then confirmed: "This is nice, that we can just talk about it." "Um-hmm." "Oh, about girls, you know, with each other: do you know any, did you know any?" "Hmm? Yeah." At least I hadn't immediately started listing them. "Tell. She must have been right that more do than people think, if you knew some." "I think she could be right." "And they liked it with you, whatever you, they, you and they did?" Was I going to tell her that they were good, very good, or like in the joke: that when they were bad, they were very, very good? I had been thinking too long; she repeated: "Tell." "Yes, of course, if they had done it with another girl, they had no problem with my doing the same ..." "Like you did this morning?" she interjected. "Um-hmm, or doing it to me. Logical: they were less inhibited." "And they did it to you?" "Yeah, all of them, I think. Yeah, all of them." "Oooh! I guess they did like boys. And the rest too?" "Um-hmm. A couple only did it with each other after I had with them." "You had with both of them, and they knew it? You had with both of them?!" Why did I have to mention those two roommates?! Did I want her to with her roommate during the trip to Europe, maybe finding another girl as roommate, who wanted to? "You did it with both of them? Everything, and they had too, with you? And they both knew?" Too late to deny anything! "They were prep school roommates, out here that summer - my first time. Met them on the beach and they invited me to a party. We never went to the party, drinking my six pack at the house they were in with one girl's parents, already away at another party." "Oooh! And you slept with both of them?! Both of them there together?" "Some of the time." "While you were doing something with the other one?!" "Um-hmm." "And you went all the way with both of them?" "Not when the other one was there." "Oooh! But she knew, they both knew that the other one had with you?" "Um-hmm." "Wow! That must have been strange!" "A little. A lot, with hindsight, but they wanted to, wanted to have done it before they went back to school, like most of their classmates, it seemed. One was more certain that she did, encouraging the other." "Oh, gosh! How old were they?" "Eighteen. They both had to repeat a year when they went to prep school, probably why they were roommates." "Oh, and then you knew that they did, with each other? They told you?!" "Yeah, we had been writing, and then they wrote a joint letter, alternating at telling how it happened." "Oh my gosh! Did you ever see them again?" "Yeah, for their school's winter play, but we didn't go." "Hmm! Like you didn't go to the party?" "Better. Oh! I wonder if there really was a party, or if they had just used that as an excuse." "Wicked girls, if they had planned all along to just get you in the house, and then ..." "Not 'wicked'; they were nice girls. Hm-hmm, maybe just eager to find out." "Hmm? Hmm? I guess a little like me." "And probably lots of other girls, like their classmates." "Hm-hmm! And probably some of mine, from things that were said. And 'better'? Like just better than the school play, or better than what you had done before?" "Both. I shouldn't be telling you this." "Probably not, but do." She grinned at me. Crap! Why did my hand just have to fondle her breast?! Not because it reminded me of those of the two roommates'; my sister's were better. That word again! And she was rubbing her hand on my back, more on my ass. Yes, squeezing it, as she asked again: "How, 'better'?" "They did it, we did it, all of us." "All three of you at once? How?" "Use your imagination. We did." It took her a few moments to use her imagination. My hand was still on her breast, but her fingers stopped moving. Was I still regretting that I had mentioned the girls, or now more curious about what my sister could imagine? Too late to worry about what I had told, so what could she be imagining? "Oooh! All three of you at once? You doing it to one, and the other one to you? Oh, she could have been really doing? Is that possible? Or ..., 'they did it,' with each other? You weren't just watching? All three of you doing that, well, you and one of them, and the other one to you?" She was looking at me with wide eyes. I squeezed her breast involuntarily, and she squeezed my ass. She did have a good imagination. Lots of questions, but this time it was my fault that she asked them. I nodded and replied: "You have a good imagination; I think you thought of everything." She grinned and squeezed my ass again, then asked: "'Everything,' with both of them? Now all three of you together, that too?" I couldn't help nodding again, and I really didn't have to reply - but I did: "One of them blew up a rubber." I immediately cursed myself for having said it, but she just grinned and replied: "I did too, one of those our sister gave me. Wow! That it got be that big!" "Hers did too, until it slipped out of her hand and flew across the room." "Hm-hmm! Mine did too, but then I managed to burst it. Oh? Where were you?" "Motel room." "With both of them, and doing everything you could?" "I think so." "I want to," she replied, but now with a serious expression. I could have known that we get back to that, her saying something like that. Then she frowned. Maybe she had recognized that she shouldn't have said it. No! "Damn! I didn't bring her rubbers. ... But don't they sell them in public men's rooms?" Did she have to look at me with that hopeful expression. Of course, there were dispensers in men's rooms. How did she know? And worse, I had some in my toilet kit, but I didn't have to tell her. But I had already nodded in response to her question. She gave me a little smile and rubbed my ass. Was she going keep returning to saying that she wanted to do 'everything'? Today - Monday - and every day all week? She had already gotten me to do everything but, to let her do everything but! What had been my thoughts in the night? Had we already done so much that it didn't matter if we did, or did it matter? Or, if so - a new question - would I be able to resist her instance? Did I want to? She could suck my cock so good, that I didn't have to want to do 'everything'. But that wouldn't be an argument for her; she wanted to - just had told me again. Her smile had faded. She was still just looking at me, apparently waiting for more than a nod about where rubbers could be bought. Then she nodded with an earnest expression and repeated: "I want to." Would she give up, if I refused? Or would the next few days be hell, even if she did stop asking? And if I agreed? Shouldn't even think about it, but we could have a wonderful few days together. I nodded again. She seemed to understand my quandary, just smiling slightly again and returning my nod. I squeezed her breast, and she rubbed my ass, and then murmured: "I just love you." When she rolled further towards me, I rolled back, and our naked bodies embraced, our thighs overlapping and clenching together, as my arms went around each other, mine drawing her up over me, and we kissed. It was such a relief to have finally agreed that we do anything, everything, so much better now, kissing without any reservations about what we would do. My cock wanted to stand up, to press pass her thigh. She let it and began to rock her hips on my thigh. Was I so aroused, because I was going to do it with my sister, so much more aroused than with other girls? It was going to be so good, my cock in her tight pussy, and her pussy rubbing on my thigh wanted it. Oh, it was going to be so good! Then she retrieved her tongue and murmured: "I'll do it again, we can both do it." I suddenly recognized that she assumed that we had to wait till I could buy rubbers. I could tell her in the house, nodding. As she rose off me, I held her hand to keep her from standing up, and then we hurried in the house, stooping down. In my room, she dove down on the bed, waiting for me with open arms and thighs. When I turned to find my toilet kit, she asked: "What?! Come!" "I have some." "Some ...? You do?! Come!" Poor dear sister, she had to wait a few moments while I got one, tearing open the foil and putting it on as I went to the bed. She was too aroused to smile or grin, just breathing heavily with soft moans. She rolled back, her thighs wide open, but I murmured: "You, on top." As I lay down, she rolled back again and straddled me, murmuring: "I'm so wet." Almost impatiently, she watched me guide my cock to her pussy. It was "so wet," but very tight, when the head of my cock found her opening. She gave a sharper moan, as she lowered her hips, and another one, but didn't hesitate to force my cock deeper in her pussy, just stopping and catching her breath and moaning again, as her hips descended on mine. My cock was throbbing in her so tight pussy. I held her hips still, as we looked at each other, both moaning with intense, unsmiling expressions, breathing deeply. Her tight pussy tighten even more, clutching my cock. Had a girl before ever been so eager, desperate to have my cock in her pussy?! Or I, to have it in her pussy?! In her clutching pussy! God, we were aroused, my cock throbbing! Just don't let her do anything, until we can relax a little! We looked at each other, sighing with more moans. I wanted to draw her down and kiss her, but didn't dare for fear that any motion on my cock would make me come. But then she did drop down, finding my mouth with hers. I didn't come, and we kissed as intensely as before on the deck. Maybe that distracted us from the sensations in her pussy. She was resting on her arms on the pillow, and I was still holding her hips, as we tried to devour each other's tongue. Was I so aroused because she was my sister? Was I still even conscious that she was?! I don't think I was at that moment and for a few minutes more. Oh, I wasn't suddenly surprised when we saw each others' faces again, and, of course, she couldn't have been, but for a while it was pure, complete sexual arousal at the highest level. My cock was twitching in the tight pussy of a girl who was trying to fuck me with her tongue, when mine wasn't fucking in her mouth. My hands slid up from her hips, embracing her, her firm breasts pressed to my chest. As though she had understood why I had been holding her hips, when my hands left them, her hips began to rock. I moaned, and she moaned and let them rise off mine. I had enough experience to have some self-control, but as we both moaned, almost growling at each other, as she experimented with riding even further up and down on my cock, I knew this was going to be one of the times when I would soon come and then have to keep fucking until she did, and I did again. Keep fucking? I came before my hips did anything more than twitch, and how I came! But then I began to rock them up, meeting hers, fucking as hard as we could. For a few seconds, I was moaning in response to the too great sensations after my orgasm, but then I was moaning with her, both of us hoping for hers. I could have wondered if a girl could fuck so good her first time; could have wondered if our sister had told her that much about it, but I wasn't thinking about her as my sister or that it was her first time. I wasn't thinking at all, completely lost in the arousal of a so all-consuming fuck. Her moans became more intense, pulsing, desperate, almost whimpering sounds. She didn't just want it, she needed it, her orgasm and the relief from her arousal. What else could I do to help her? My hand slid down in her crevice and found her asshole, rubbing it. She only nodded slightly in response. My cock was hardly aware of the clutches of her pussy in all the movement, but the twitching of her asshole under my fingers confirmed that it was. Then she gasped, and my cock felt a tighter clutch, as it thrust into her, and then the sound of our hips meeting became wet slaps. With a grunt, I came again, finally, my hips thrusting a couple of times more, while she collapsed on me, gasping and sighing with deep moans. My hips stilled, and we lay there, gasping and sighing, only our breathing moving us. That's when I remembered that she was my sister, before she raised her head from my shoulder, but she didn't do that for a minute or two. Mixed thoughts about what we had done? I had plenty: incest pure - and all that implied - that we shouldn't have done it; but wouldn't we have before the week ended; that I had only done what she wanted; that it had been far too good; but her arguments about why we should; that it was too late now to change anything; we had, and we would again; and what thoughts was she having? My wilting cock slipped out of her pussy, when she extend her legs, now the full weight of her body lying on mine, but she still didn't raise her head, just lying peacefully on me. Dozing? It had been good enough to make her want to from my limited experience. My fingers had left her asshole, my hand just resting on her ass. My other hand slid down. Too late now not to think about it: she had a nice round ass. She hummed with a nod on my shoulder, and then raised her head, drawing in her elbows to raise her shoulders. She looked down at me with an unsmiling expression. Then a slight smile passed over her lips, but only for a instant. Should I say something first? What? Not what she was thinking; she murmured: "Maybe we shouldn't have done it; I shouldn't know that it could be that good." "Um-hmm, better than just wanting your first time not to be disappointing." "Hmm? Something like that. She said it wouldn't always be good, but she couldn't tell me how good it could be." "Shouldn't even have tried to." "Um-hmm. Hmm? Must have slipped out." "Um-hmm." "I still love that you did, just love you." She lowered her head, and we kissed, almost just appropriate for between siblings. She slid off me, lying against my side, her head on my shoulder again, my arm around her, and we were silent for what seemed like a long time. I turned off my thoughts and just enjoyed it, both of us almost dozing, at least, I thought so. She roused me by asking suddenly: "Where is it, the rubber?" I hoped that it hadn't slipped off, now also curious: two orgasms? She slid her hand down and found it, maybe caught it before it did. She held it up with a chuckle, letting it swing. I couldn't tell her that I had come twice; that would be four times already with the ones before breakfast, just inciting her to find out how many more times she could make me come in the afternoon and evening. She turned her head up and grinned at me, remarking: "My first rubber. Hmm? How many more do you have?" So much for her thought that maybe we shouldn't have done it, now obviously implying that she was assuming that we would again. I lied, since I had another package of three rubbers: "Two," "Only? Let's go out for lunch, ... or dinner." She thought we might need two more before dinner time! Couldn't we just do it to each other, like she had thought we would have to? That was less exhausting, wouldn't be quite so good, but fucking again also probably wouldn't be. "Lunch or dinner?" she asked. "Dinner. Don't have to wash and get dressed, and then wash again this evening." "Oh, what do I do with it?" she asked, swinging the rubber again. "Flush it down the toilet and be sure it does." We got up, and she did, using it herself, while I went in the washbasin, to her delight, washing my cock and balls. She washed, and then we agreed that it was time for lunch, "and a beer," she added with a grin. We started the beers before we started making lunch - more soup and sandwiches - still naked, of course. I didn't have much experience with spending the rest of the day with a girl I had just had sex with. A couple times it had happened, but when we had our clothes back on and weren't in hers or my room. Of course, we had exchanged "terms of endearment." But what now with my sister - with my sister! Even with its being with her, it seemed there should be some show of affection, that it shouldn't just be like we had been before. I had no problem with showing her affection - on the contrary - but how? I couldn't just slip my hands around her sides and hold her breasts and kiss her ear, the idea that came to me - if she hadn't been my sister. She seemed entirely unconcerned about what I was finding a problem. Was that how incest was? You just do it - fuck as good as you ever imagined! - and then return to being "normal" siblings? Birthday Present For My Sister Ch. 02 After setting the table, standing next to her again, almost unconsciously I did what I would have done standing next to a girlfriend in clothes. I rubbed her ass, her nice round naked ass. She gave me a sweet smile and returned to making sandwiches. I rubbed it again and moved away to get my beer. Before I could drink, she found hers and smiled at me again, and we drank together. That had been just right, I thought, while she finished the sandwiches, and then we sat down and ate. We finished the little in our beers before either of us said anything. She asked if we wanted another one, and I nodded. Watching her get them, I wondered when she had the idea that we should do it. We drank together again, and I asked. She smiled wryly and replied: "Not before we were out here. Oh, going topless I had planned when I asked you to come out here, pretty sure before that my girlfriend would want to, too. But like I told you, I didn't think the parents would let us. Hm-hmm! Not go topless for sure, not agree that the two of us could stay here. So I got up my nerve to warn you in the car." "Could have caused an accident." "It didn't." "And the rest?" She gave me another wry smile and had sip, and I had one. "Saturday night, after you had been such a good sport about "topless," in bed, wishing I had remembered to bring my candle ..." "Your candle?" I interjected. "Tell you later, but you can imagine what I wanted to do with it, so I was doing that, thinking about what our sister had told me. That has been making it better, fantasies now instead of just trying to make it feel good. And, well, I guess I started fantasizing about you, the nearest male. That made it even better. And, well, here we were, together for a week; just seemed like a fortuitous coincidence that my sister's and my brother's birthday presents could be combined." She smiled wryly again and took more than a sip of beer. I did too, returning her smile, repeating her 'fortuitous coincidence' as a question. She asked back: "Hasn't it been?" "I guess so. Took me a while to get around to thinking so." "Maybe I should have too, but it just seemed that it was supposed to happen. If I had been planning it before, I would have brought my rubbers." "It did happen. Nice to know that you weren't spending the last couple of weeks thinking about how it could. ... And your candle?" "Oh yeah. Hm-hmm! After she told me everything, of course I wondered if one would really fit. Of course, I knew that my fingers would, but they aren't as long as your cock, a cock, and I wasn't sure that her mugshot was life-sized. It wasn't." She grinned at me and continued: "So I got a candle, knew it would fit in, and discovered how far in it would go, a little surprised, but that was good: that it did and doing it." She grinned again, and we both drank again. "And then I thought to heat the other end of the candle - one of those with little ridges to fit in different sized holders - and try to make that end bigger, like in her drawing. Yours is bigger." "Maybe she didn't want you to expect too much." "Hmm! Maybe. Of course, it wasn't as big as yours, but a nice, not too little knob." "And that was even better?" "Um-hmmm! It sure was! I was already for the real thing." "It's all our sister's fault." "Just a little, maybe. Maybe just that we did today already. I think I would have started having fantasies about you without her having told me anything: here together, my going topless. Wouldn't you have begun to think about it?" "Probably," I admitted. I tried to remember if I had been already fantasizing about her the first night. I didn't think so, but it seemed very likely that her breasts could have begun to appear in my fantasies. She smiled slightly and remarked softly: "And if you had - I mean, appeared in my fantasies - I probably would have, well, tried to get you somehow to also think about it." "Like how? Oh, it doesn't matter; you would have - before the end of the week." "Better this way." "Thanks, big sister." "Um-hmm." She smiled with a nod, and I did, and we almost finished our beers, then did with a final sip. We had finished our meal, and cleaned up in the kitchen. This time, she rubbed my ass first, and I rubbed hers in response, smiling at each other. I suddenly grinned and asked: "And if you had remembered to bring your nice candle, would that have changed anything?" "Just made me more interested in seeing if was the right size." We chuckled. When her hand slid up to my waist, mine also did, and we turned closer, her breast brushing my chest, and then her other one pressing against me, and we kissed - just a nice kiss between incestuous siblings to confirm their affection. I thought that for me it also confirmed the dismissal of all my reservations. Our hands slid down again, and we separated, our hands on each other's ass urging that we return to the deck. When we saw our clothes, we chuckled and stooped down and returned to our towels. There had been a little space between them, but before we lay down again, there wasn't. We spread lotion on each other. I lay on my back, and she lay on her stomach, but her hand immediately slid over my thigh and found my soft cock, her fingers then gathering up my sack, until her fingers were cupped around my cock and balls, and she murmured: "I just want to hold them." "Um-hmm," I agreed, thinking how nice it was that she could be so disarmingly direct. Why not? Of course, I didn't object to her holding my cock and balls; keep them from getting sunburned. We dozed off, naps after two beers and lunch. But after soup and two beers, we had to go to the bathroom. I don't think my swelling cock awoke her, but it did me, or maybe it was her murmuring that she had to go. She just removed her hand and rolled over and sat up. She glanced out at the beach, and the went into the house without standing up. I followed her, and we used the toilet and washbasin again, washing. While she was, I touched her pink ass, leaving a white spot, and remarked: "Maybe we have had enough sun for today." "Probably, if you think so. Showers?" "Shower?" "Um-hmm." She smiled at me in the mirror and stopped washing her pussy. In the shower together, of course, we also washed each other then again, more than just washing. This time, she was delighted that she could make my cock respond. I was too. When my fingers also washed her asshole, she chuckled and remarked: "There too? Oh, that surprised me, this morning, but everything else was being so arousing, and then that too. It was; guess you knew it would be. Hm-hmm! Feels good now, too. Want me to, too? Must feel the same for you." "Um-hmm." She did, with soapy fingers, and I nodded with a chuckle. She also chuckled and remarked: "She didn't tell me about that." "Might have shocked you, been a turn-off." "Yeah, it probably would have been, but not now." My cock had drooped during this. We rinsed and dried ourselves. When we had hung up our towels, we looked at each other, down and up: lots of pink skin, her nice little patch of pubic hair. Our eyes met again, both smiling slightly. Now what, I thought, seeing her eyes drop down again. "Want me to do it again? I want to," she murmured, her eyes finding mine again. "Both of us, like you thought we would have to this morning?" "Um-hmm," she replied with a nod, hardly smiling, but her nipples had popped out. I followed her to my bed. This time she didn't dive down on it, just quietly lying down, leaving space for me, with her thigh raised and her arms outstretched, looking at me with a longing expression. Did my sister - did it have to be my sister looking at me like that?! I joined her, drawing her hips to my face, as I drew my thigh up under her head, her hand guiding my semi-aroused cock to her mouth. Had our sister told how good this was, both not yet really aroused, but completely confident how good it was going to be? She couldn't have. It was. Her pussy was already moist in anticipation, as I tasted, despite my having just washed it. My cock loved being sucked and licked before it was fully aroused. But then, when it was, and her pussy was all slippery and tasting even better ...! The sensations were just too many and too good to describe! Her tongue was obviously enjoying caressing my cock as much as mine was, caressing her aroused clitoris. Oh, I loved what we were doing, but there were just too many different delightful and arousing sensations to appreciate them all at one time. That was a new recognition, but immediately forgotten in my arousal. Licking a sweet, wet pussy is almost as arousing as enjoying one's own impending orgasm in the mouth of a girl, especially when her hips twitch in aroused response, like one's own are, and especially when she is moaning - vibrating on your cock - as though she wants to feel you fill her mouth with your creamy, white semen, like you want her pussy to flood your mouth and face with her even sweeter love juice. And then it all happens! The release is so excruciatingly arousing! Tasting it is so rewarding, the proof of having gratified each other so completely! Was it like that for us? It was! With satisfied, sighing moans we recovered. I fondled her breast, its nipple soft after her orgasm, and she rubbed my hip. Her nipple: even though my finger circled around it, the rosy area was a little softer than her firm breast. I didn't think it had been like that, when it was aroused, when I had been sucking it. Next time, and she wasn't going to be one to suggest it. We sighed a few times more, no longer moaning. She had let my cock slip from her mouth. With a deeper sigh, this time moaning again, she murmured: "I was right before: I shouldn't know it can be this good, this way too." "Um-hmm, but it was, for me too." "Like I wanted it to be." "I love the way you taste." "Hmm, and you too. That's good; more than anything I can do by myself." "That's especially good, that you can't." "Just makes it worse, that I can't, that I now know." "Not this week." She scrambled around and dropped down on me and murmured - again: "I just love you!" "I just love you too," I heard myself reply, before we kissed again. It was a kiss that only incestuous siblings could share. Even though her thigh dropped down between mine, and they all squeezed together, eventually we came up for air, and she rolled off me, lying with her head on my shoulder. My arm was around her, hugging her, and her holding my side, also holding us tighter. When we relaxed, she murmured: "Oh, that was good, but there was too much going on. Next time, let's just take turns." "Um-hmm, what I was thinking." We hugged each other again, and I asked myself: why did it have to be my sister who so completely shared my feelings? We had to wash ourselves again, also my face. When she asked where we going to eat, we agreed on a restaurant we liked, and put on clothes. "Bra too," I called to her, adding: "don't want them popping out in public." "Thought of that already; they would." We chuckled and met in the hall, approving each other's choice of clothing for the restaurant. During the drive, she grinned and took my hand, putting it on her breast and saying: "Make it." My fingers tried. She had on a bra with thin cups, but I couldn't make her nipple pop out. It was firmer, but didn't pop out. She chuckled and said: "Felt good; it wanted to, but I put tissues over them." "Hmm? Where did you learn that?" "Sister told me, long ago, dancing school." "She would know, with hers." "Um-hmm. Told me before I thought about it." "Wanting to rub them on dancing partners?" "Before I could." "You wanted to?" "Girls talk." "If the boys knew!" We chuckled and arrived at the restaurant. She reminded me that we were there to buy rubbers. We had a nice meal with wine, although she was too young to be served. Luckily, there were few guests, so we had a table with no immediate neighbors to overhear us. During the meal, I went to the men's room and used my two quarters to buy six more rubbers. Back at the table, she whispered: "How many?" "Six." "Enough; I really have five." "You lied." "Didn't want you think we had to use them all." "Eleven. Tuesday, Wednesday ... , when are the parents coming out?" "Saturday." The waiter came by and interrupted our whispered conversation. When he left, she calculated: "Four days and Saturday morning." "We're not going to twice a day." "Before breakfast, sometime, at night." "Even you don't want to do that. When we will do anything else?" She gave me a wicked grin, and we drank. She smirked and whispered: "You said four times once. We did that." "But more isn't better: the difference between a gourmand and a gourmet." "Hmmm! But if a gourmet discovered a whole platter of something that is really good, wouldn't he want to indulge himself by finishing it all off?" She grinned again at her clever response, and I had to, too. I replied that we could always get more. She nodded with a smile, and we finished our meal talking about other things. As we left the restaurant, since we had been whispering, I put my arm around her waist to suggest to any guests that we had been whispering like a young couple would. Her smile could have convinced them even more, especially when she pursed her lips. We were a young couple, just happening also to be siblings. As we got in the car, one of us suggested that we needed more beer. I bought another two six packs. Birthday Present For My Sister Ch. 03 She gave me a wicked grin, and we drank. She smirked and whispered: "You said you did it four times one day. We did that." "But more isn't better: the difference between a gourmand and a gourmet." "Hmmm! But if a gourmet discovered a whole platter of something that is really good, wouldn't he want to indulge himself by finishing it all off?" She grinned again at her clever response, and I had to, too. I replied that we could always get more rubbers. She nodded with a smile, and we finished our meal talking about other things. As we left the restaurant, since we had been whispering, I put my arm around her waist to suggest to any guests that we had been whispering like a young couple would. Her smile could have convinced them even more, especially when she pursed her lips. We were a young couple, just happening also to be siblings. As we got in the car, one of us suggested that we needed more beer. I bought another two six packs. That night we didn't do anything, but in the morning we did, after a discussion of possibilities, while she was holding my cock. We fucked, my acquiescing to her insistence that we had to use our supply of rubbers. I didn't come twice. After breakfast, she insisted that I call home. That was relatively easy, since Martha, the Norwegian au pair, answered and said that our mother was somewhere playing bridge. On the deck that forenoon, my sister said that she wanted to suck my cock again. What could be easier to agree to?! And after lunch - I could have expected it - she hopped her ass up on the cleared table and lay back, spreading her thighs, presenting her pussy, and telling me that it was my turn. That was easy, too. She was surprised when I pressed her thighs back further, rolling her hips up, and licked her asshole, but she liked that too. Of course, my tongue soon returned to her clitoris and a short time later she came. I was then surprised when she demanded: "Get a rubber." My aroused cock wasn't surprised. I hurried off and returned, putting it on, seeing her fingers keeping her pussy aroused. Had she already - previously - noticed that the table was the right height for my cock to slip straight into her slippery pussy? It was tight, of course, but she only responded with relieved sounding moan, as my cock went in with one thrust, my hips jarring her body on the table, when they hit hers. They hit hers many times more. She stopped rubbing for a few seconds, but then her fingers returned to her clitoris, a little to my surprise, but who was I to question what felt most arousing for her? If that made her pussy clutch my cock better, it was also good for me. If the knob of her candle felt good, my larger knob should feel even better. Her candle couldn't know how good it felt my cock! Fucking pure, I thought and grasped her breasts for something to hold to fuck her harder and faster. Before I came, she did, with loud, desperate sounds, as her body spasmed and her pussy juice flushed out on the top of my cock, then running down warm on my tight sack. My throbbing, thrusting cock spurted, until her hand turned and urged me to stop fucking. Her body jerked again, and my cock throbbed, while I heard a couple more pulsing moans. I had been grunting, now gasping and moaning with her. God, it had been so good again! I let go of her breasts, seeing the white marks from my fingers return to the sunburned pink of her other skin. Her pussy clutched my cock again, and I caught her legs as they dropped down. She seemed to have passed out. "Le petit mort," I wondered. I didn't speak French, but had heard the expression. Several seconds later, she took a deeper breath, sighing, and then her eyes opened. It was a moment or two before they found mine. She gave me a tired smile and murmured: "Also shouldn't know it can be like that." "Too late." "Um-hmm. Still there." Her pussy squeezed my softening cock, and she grinned, remarking with chuckle: "I did that." "Do it again." She did, and then again, and it slipped out, along with more of her moisture. We heard it dripping on the floor and both snorted silently. I helped her sit up and then took off the rubber and jostled my loose sack. She took the rubber from me, holding it up and looking at it with a grin, then murmuring: "I can do that too." She flipped the full end in her mouth and grinned, pulling it slowly out between her closed lips. I could imagined they were gathering my semen in a soft little balloon. More than enough to fill the reservoir? Not really, I saw, as the end slipped from between her lips. She looked at me with another grin and said: "I taste good." "You do." "You do too." She chuckled and put the open end in her mouth and held the other end higher, sliding my semen down to her mouth with two fingers. She smirked, moving her jaw to emphasize that she was tasting it. She let the rubber slip out and pursed her lips, leaning forward. Our lips met, and I opened my mouth and let her tongue give me a sample of the slippery liquid, and then we kissed until its flavor was diluted by our saliva. I helped her off the table. When her feet hit the floor, she remarked: "Oh! I'm still leaking," and reached down and held her pussy lips together. We hurried to the bathroom. While she was leaking on the toilet, I suggested: "I like that, but don't do that with the rubber the first time with a guy and not before he knows that you already have tasted it with him." "I guess not; could surprise him." "And make him know that you had more experience than he thought you did, than he wanted to think you have." "Hmm? Like that? Yeah, I guess so." "Guys like to think they have more experience, don't mind girls' being adventurous, but not before they are." "Yeah, I guess. Hm-hmm! Could only tell you that she had told me all about it." "Even if you did, he might not believe it." "I sure hope he does then, have more experience." We chuckled, and I went in the washbasin with her standing, watching, and then we both washed. We still had most of the afternoon before us and agreed to go down on the beach. As we were getting ready, she snickered and said: "One evening, we have to go skinny dipping." "So you can tell the girls on the trip that you have?" "Oh, that's a good idea! Tell them a boy and I dared to do it." "And - or, so - they will ask if that was all you did." "Even better! Have to think about how it could have happened." In this jocular mood, we applied lotion to each other and went down on the beach with our towels. After we had swum in the mild waves, we sat down facing the sun. She grinned and said: "Tell me about the body surfing that time." "Early Monday morning, knowing the newly weds did really appreciate my company, very few people on the beach, but nice waves. Was she already trying body surf? Yeah, but couldn't as good as I could. I guess she was watching me more than I was her. Oh, I was. We both caught a good wave, and when she stood up, her bikini top had slipped around. You know, one with just two strings and two triangles." "Hm-hmm! Just slipped around, or had she helped it?" "Hmm? Never thought of that. Whatever, she was in no hurry to put it back in place and knew I was looking. Yeah, maybe she helped it, now that you suggest it; makes sense in light of what happened." "Your first time." "Um-hmm, but I'm not going to tell you all about that." "Lucky." "Very." "I need a bikini like that." "So you can do that?" "Now you're suggesting it. No, I was just thinking that it would take minimal space in my suitcase and probably be more like what girls in France wear." "Especially if you forgot to pack the top." "No one would believe that." "No." We exchanged smiles. It was being nice to just talk. Then she said: "Skinny dipping. I know it's not allowed here, but we have to try it. Others probably do." "Probably. A few years ago, I wondered about couples that wanted to swim in the dark." "Now we know. We want to, too." "Who said that I did?" "You will, if I do. You have to, promised that you wouldn't let me go on the beach alone, much less swim alone - buddy system." "Shouldn't be too much of a problem." "Nice big brother!" "And when you tell the girls, who was your buddy for skinny dipping? "Thanks for reminding me. Do we want to be just innocent?" "With me? Too late." "Not with you, of course." "Depends on how much you want tell them: everything they would like to imagine could happen; or just that you had dared to, maybe nothing more, maybe a nude kiss, maybe a little more, but you got scared - almost discovered - or couldn't do everything? Hm-hmm! Because nude bathers don't have a place to keep a rubber." "Oh, you're full of good ideas!" "Or, very risky, you do everything, and maybe are still scared that you won't have your period." "Too scary. Know a couple of girls who were counting days, and more days." "Wouldn't want that, could ruin the first couple of weeks of your trip. So who is the guy?" "Tall, dark and handsome." "Older? You want a guy with experience." "Yeah, why not. Old enough to be out here alone." "Not a father figure?" "Oh no, max thirty-five." "Thinking of anyone special?" "Hmmm? Maybe a younger version of Uncle Simon." "Tall, dark and handsome? And you've thought about him?" "When he told me that he wanted to kiss me, when I was fifteen." "Did he, did you?" "Wanted to, could have been my real first kiss, but we didn't." "Sorry about that. Now I know how he should look, but what's got to happen first, so that you can go skinny dipping with him?" "Hmmm? If nothing happened, he could be younger, just daring to do it together." "Not much fun to tell about. But you're not going to have a story about how you and an older man did everything. A girl wouldn't tell others about that." "How do you know, but you're right. So he has to be about my age, ..." "Is this going to be the start of something that your trip upsets?" "Don't make it so complicated. Then I would have to explain later to a couple of friends why nothing further happened." "He went off to college, got drafted, told you that it was 'just infatuation', but you still did it, everything?" She looked at me with slightly quizzical expression and said: "Sounds a little like us." "Not 'just infatuation.' "No, but maybe it would be, if we weren't you and me." "But we are." We smiled, our hands touching, and were silent, watching a few waves ripple up on the beach. "But like that," she then said: "a guy in college. We agree to just wait to see what happens after my trip." "And how do you meet?" "Don't know. Maybe he's a cousin, one who has spent vacations here since we were kids, so no one thinks anything about his being here with me, and then it happens." "Skinny dipping first?" She glanced over at me with a slight smile, nodding slightly, and whispered just above the sounds of the shore: "Before I dared to go topless." "But maybe suggested the skinny dipping." "Or he did. Hmm? Probably him, but I was wanting to." "Nice cousin, to help you do what you wanted to." "Um-hmm." Our hands touched again, and we were silent for a few more waves - and a few more. Then we quietly agreed to go back to the house, and quietly agreed to shower together. Even though we washed each other as completely as before, we exchanged pleasant hums when our fingers were everywhere but not trying to arouse each other. While we were drying ourselves, she remarked quietly: "That was nice, all afternoon." "I thought so too, very nice." We smiled and agreed that it was time for another beer and went to the kitchen. As we had our first sips, smiling at each other, I thought about how easy being nude together had become; how wearing clothes made it enticing, erotic to see a bare breast or completely nude woman. "Nice, being naked again," she murmured. I nodded, liking that her remark seemed to complement my thought, and that her nipples had not popped out in connection with what she had said or my seeing them. Of course, we were going to sleep with each other again, but not because being nude/naked had to be arousing. It was earlier than before to start preparing dinner, but we did, choosing a more ambitious suggestion from our mother's list, joking about her seeming to have thought that we would have more experience in the course of the week. We were still just finding ingredients, when the phone rang. We looked at each other, her nipples suddenly erect. She smiled wryly and nodded for me to answer. I did: "Hi Mother." ... Yes, we're fine, just cooking. ... No, we haven't argued about anything. We're both behaving ourselves." My sister gave me a wide-eyed look with aroused nipples. "Yes, we were on the beach today, swimming. ... Of course, both of us together. Not many people around. ... We're trying a meal you planned for later in the week. ... Oh? We should do the meatloaf first. ... Ground beef. ... Sure, thanks. Glad you called before anything was on the stove. ... You want to talk to her?" My sister's nipples popped out again as she frowned, wiping her forearm over them. "Yes, we're doing all the chores. ... I'll tell her, and love to Father too." My sister looked relieved as I hung up and passed on our parents' greetings and then explained that the ground beef should be cooked before it stayed in the refrigerator longer. We revised our plans and made the meatloaf, agreeing not to forget the chores for opening the house for the summer. Since it had to bake, we had to wait for the oven to heat and then for it to bake. Boiling potatoes and a frozen vegetable would be no problem. Her recipe for meatloaf was very detailed. We did then argue - grinning. I wanted more salt, knowing that I always wanted more, when I ate meatloaf at home. She thought we should stick with Mother's recipe. Then I remembered a saying our German grandmother used, something about a cook's using too much salt when he was in love. She acquiesced with a grin, only asking who was the cock. I added more salt. It wasn't too much, as she agreed an hour later. When the meatloaf was in the oven, with a second beer we put on enough to go out on the deck. Her "enough" was my shirt, mine, just my Bermudas. Standing at the railing, looking out at the ocean and the sun, lowering in the west, she put her arm around my bare waist. I put my arm around her. Nice, just a couple of siblings enjoying being close and sharing sips of beer. I was thinking that even if nothing had happened, if she hadn't said she was going to go topless and everything else, after three days alone together, we could still have been standing like that in all our clothes. We had another sip, exchanging mild smiles. "Nice," she murmured. I nodded, and we had another small sip. Was it hers or my hand that first slid down from the other's waist? I'd like to think that it was hers, but it could just as well have been mine; more likely actually, since it only had to slide down on my shirt, whereas her had to slide over the waistband of my shorts. It did, and mine did - or had already. We chuckled softly without glancing at each other, as our hands rubbed the other's ass. It was just so nice that we so easily could do the same thing, wanted to. Our hands rubbed, and she murmured: "Like this morning; I wanted you to do something, touch me somehow." "Um-hmm," I agreed: I wanted to too. Didn't think I could just slip my arms around you and hold your breasts." "I would have liked that too." "Next time." "Next time, please." I rubbed her ass, enjoying that there was only my shirt between us, better that for her, with the hip pocket of my shorts between her hand and my ass. She must have felt the same way; her hand slid back up to the waistband of my shorts. As her fingers crept under it, I drew in my stomach, and her hand immediately slipped under it, until her hand was where it had been before, now rubbing my bare ass. It wasn't too tight with her wrist inside the waist band, especially with the distraction of feeling her fingers caressing my ass. My fingers gathered up the shirttail of my shirt and fondled her bare ass in return. "Nice, better," she murmured. I nodded, and we drank again. Until the timer for the oven rang, we fondled each other that way, our hands all over each other's ass, both sides and in between. My hand had it much easier, of course, also because scratching behind her pussy was easier then for her fingers to stretch past my asshole. We both eschewed rubbing there. We looked out at the darkening horizon, chuckling about what we were doing. My cock was beginning find it interesting. When my finger tip touched the back of her pussy, she hummed and said: "You're going to make me all wet." "You, me too," "Wet?!" "You know what I mean." We chuckled again, and she shoved her arm further down in my shorts and found the base of my cock behind my balls. I made my cock surge, and she snickered. Then the timer rang. We chuckled and returned to the house with our hands back on cloth. For a change, we ate without being naked, enjoying a third beer. After agreeing that the meatloaf wasn't too salty, she smiled and said: "This is being so nice, so much better than I imagined. That too - of course! - but just being with you, like on the deck, and not because of what we were then doing. But I guess that's part of it, enjoying that too, of course." She smiled again with quizzical expression." "I was think so too, out on the deck, that it was being so nice with you. Of course, I guess, it was only natural that we wanted to enjoy that too. Fun. We won't know how it could have been, if we hadn't, if we don't." She smiled with a serious expression, nodding, and replied: "I won't say it again, until we do." "I said so too," I murmured. We smiled slightly and finished our meal in silence, just exchanging more mild smiles. I was wondering what she was thinking, wondering myself if sibling incest was just expressing and loving more than a brother and sister should; that they shouldn't, not for moral reasons, only because they knew it couldn't end like maybe with another partner. Sure, of course, it was about not having kids, but was it that much different from having sex with someone else, both knowing that they weren't expecting to marry, knowing it was really counter to religious and social conventions? That also wasn't supposed to happen, but it did - plenty! Don't start to count them! So why not siblings? She had already explained that we knew that better than couples who maybe could think they might. "A penny for your thoughts," she remarked softly, "Hmm? A quarter; too complicated. "Fifty cents?" "Six rubbers." "Only? I mean, they don't cost more? [They didn't back then.] I shook my head, and we both chuckled. "Too complicated?" she asked. "About us, you know the word." She nodded with an almost solemn expression, and I murmured: "Trying to think that it isn't much different than other couples who know they're just playing around." "It is different, better. They just go their ways; we're always be the same, maybe not like this, but not going different ways, forgetting each other." "We won't," I agreed, appreciating her explanation. We smiled again and cleared the table. While cleaning up in the kitchen, we rubbed each other's ass again, a couple of times. While she was finishing up, wiping the counter, I did step behind her and hold her breasts. She leaned back against me with a hum. Maybe it was more of a purr; she nuzzled against me, turning her head back with a nod, offering her ear to be kissed. I did, sucking and puffing and tickling with the tip of my tongue. Birthday Present For My Sister Ch. 03 She purred again and dropped the dishrag, then turned in my arms, her arms going around my neck, and we kissed. It started as just an affectionate kiss, but after a second or two, the tips of our tongues found each other, and we tilted our heads a little more. It was still very affectionate, but more than that, of course. When my hands slid down and held her ass, she leaned back so that she could rub her tight nipples on my chest, and then my cock was pressing against her. Before it insisted on standing up, she murmured: "I want to do it to you again, just me, on my bed." I nodded and we went to her room. She gestured for me to lie down, murmuring: "The first man in my bed, ... my virgin bed." When I lay down on my back, she murmured: "On your side; I just want to lie there with it in my mouth and enjoy it as long as possible, let you enjoy it as long as possible." I rolled on my side and moved back to make space for her, and she lay with her head level with my cock, drawing her legs up against my feet, when the top one rubbed between her thighs, she raised hers and let it slide up to her pussy, and we got comfortable, she with her arm under her head. Her other hand guided my now less aroused cock to her mouth, and then fondled my balls. As she gently sucked and licked, I recalled her words: "as long as possible," having to think: why did my sister have to be such a good lover? Others had been good - some hadn't been - but none so sympathetically direct about just wanting to make it good for me. They - the couple - had enjoyed sucking my cock, but never said what she had said, that she wanted to enjoy it herself for as long as possible. She really wanted to, just lying there, sucking gently and licking, and fondling my balls. Of course, my cock was soon as stiff as it could be, and eventually my sack tightened, but she immediately stopped licking and caught a wrinkle and began to loosen it. She couldn't stop sucking entirely, it seemed. I fondled her hair in confirmation of my agreement, again asking myself why she had to be so good. She nodded with a hum. When my sack was loose again, letting her fingers fondle my balls individually, she began to lick and suck more again. When my sack drew up again, she did the same again, letting my arousal subside a little. The next time it tighten - sooner than before - and my hips twitched despite my trying to hold them still, she also let me relax a little again. I wondered about her "as long as possible:" an experiment? Did she know that when I finally came it would be better for me and more for her to taste? I hoped that she did, and fondled her head again. Did her nod suggest that she did, that our sister had told her about doing this this way? I didn't think I could stand another pause. I wanted to let her to do whatever she wanted to, but "as long as possible" was only that, as long as I could keep from coming, and I didn't want to try not to any longer. She started to suck and lick again. This time, I didn't try to control my hips, and my pleased hums shifted to aroused moans. I could feel that her fingers were only rubbing my tight sack. When my hips thrust my cock deeper in her mouth, her hand held it, avoiding its thrusting even deeper, but her fingers' tight grasp increased my arousal. She knew what was going to happen and also moaned with a nod. I didn't want to, but I couldn't help my hand from urging her head to move on my cock, when my cock thrust. Her hand saved it from going to deep. I grunted and came. And how I came! Spurting again and again, as I grunted and, she moaned each time I spurted! Why did my sister have to do it so good?! I had to moan, as her tongue swilled it around, touching my now too sensitive spot. Then her jaw closed tight on my cock for a moment. Swallowing, I thought. Her tongue moved again, and she swallowed again. I fondled her hair and moaned, and she nodded with a long hum. Why did it have to be my sister who did it so good?! She nodded again with another hum, almost as though she were agreeing with me. I sighed with another moan and murmured: "You don't have to ask how good that was." She nodded again with an "uhn-hnnn," sucking and licking again, and then sighing. It seemed that she was reluctant to let my cock slip out of her mouth, very gently sucking and licking again, but then it did. She turned her face up to me with the mildest of smiles, nodding again. After a moment, she murmured: "It was for me too, just like I wanted it to be, and for you." I urged her to move up beside me, and we embraced and kissed, really just an affectionate one - not quite; my tongue want to find a last taste of my orgasm in her mouth. We lay there together, sighing, exhaling in each other's face for a minute or two. Then she murmured: "I shouldn't know ..., no, yes, I should know I like that too." "Um-hmm. I think so, and make someone very happy." "Don't like to think about 'someone' right now." "Nor I." We kissed again, just confirmation of our agreement, and were silent again, until she frowned and murmured: "I don't want to get up, but I have to go." We did, both of us in the bathroom. It was too early to go to bed, but we both wanted to. She wanted us to sleep in her bed, but then agreed that my larger bed would be more comfortable. We lay down together in the late twilight. As I was curling up behind her with my hand on her breast, she murmured: "But I want to do it in my still virgin bed in the morning." "Okay. It won't tattle on you." "Um-hmm, something like that, but I can remember that we have." Next week, I thought, recalling that our parents were going to come out for a week, while I returned to the City to start my summer job. We said good night and fell asleep, not without my having a few more confused thoughts. And a few more in the night, when I rolled away from her. But then she followed me, her arm sliding over my chest, and her thigh drawing up over mine, and it was just too comfortable to think about anything other than how nice our familiarity had become, was being. Towards morning, we had rolled back the other way. I couldn't remember waking up, but I was back with my arm around her. My hand hadn't found her breast again, but my cock had found a nice place to nestle between her thighs, as I discovered when I woke up. That made it even nicer and more familiar to be sleeping with her, reason for my hand to find her breast again. When her hand slid over mine, without her seeming to awaken, I liked the idea that our sleeping together was for her also just so nice and familiar. Very nice thought, that we were so comfortably compatible, especially that my cock had found that little space at the top of her thighs where it fit so well. It twitched in response to my appreciating that it had. Her fingers moved on my hand, then held it. Her thighs pressed together, and then she chuckled softly, and after a moment murmured: "Nice. That happens? Nice way to wake up." "Um-hmm, didn't want wake you." "But I like that you did, ... this way." My cock twitched again, but I knew why; it had to do something else. She chuckled and said: "It thinks so too." "It does." "Can we do it this way?" "Probably, but it wants to do something else first." "Now my pussy does too." We got up in the first light of dawn and went to the bathroom. She snickered as I leaned over the washbasin to hold my cock down and wait till it could, then with a strong stream that splashed against the back of the basin. We washed. As we left the bathroom, she said: My bed, and get a rubber." I did, finding her still standing, waiting for me. She didn't have to gesture for me to lie down, and then crouched between my legs, smiling at me and murmuring: "Just to start." "Then turn around and let me, too." She smirked with a nod and did. I drew her hips down on my face, and she picked up my cock. It was in her mouth about the same time my tongue found her pussy. She couldn't enjoy sucking and licking my cock more than I enjoyed arousing her pussy! As we both were, I forgot that it was just supposed to be for her to make my cock stiff enough for us to fuck and for me to make her pussy aroused enough for it to be wet and open to let us. I was doing everything I could, everything I loved to do with a pussy: playing with her soft inner lips, alternating between arousing her clitoris and finding a fresh taste of her moisture in her opening. For a while she was humming in response, encouraging my eager tongue, but then she raised her head and supported her shoulders on her elbows and said: "Where is? Let me put it on." For a moment, I was disappointed that my cock was no longer in her mouth and that she had interrupted my anticipation of enjoying making her pussy flood my face, but then remembered that we were going to fuck. I found the rubber and handed it to her, hoping she would have no problem tearing off the foil. She didn't. While she was putting the rubber on my cock, I thought it was a good idea for her to learn how. She chuckled as she rolled it down my cock, and then she was scrambling around over me. She leaned forward and found her opening with the head of my cock. We both moaned as she lowered her hips, and it slid all the way into her tight, slippery wet pussy. She held still, waiting for my cock to stop twitching. While I also waited, I marveled at her having so quickly learned that. It twitched again, however, when she sat up. Her hips rested on mine, and she held still again, smiling down at me with more pleased that aroused expression. I reached up and fondled her breasts. She nodded with a chuckle, and we both smiled. After a few moments, she chuckled again and asked: "How long can we do it?" "'As long as possible'?" I asked, quoting her remark the night before. She nodded again with another chuckle, grinning, and then replying: "Even longer; you just feel so good in me." "For me too." She nodded, and her pussy squeezed my cock, making it twitch again. "Especially when you do that," I added." "For me too, when it does that." She made it twitch again, smiling at her success, and then began to rock her hips to and fro. I hummed with a nod and murmured: "Yeah, like that, or in circles." She experimented, making me moan and nod. When my cock twitched again, she also moaned, continuing to move her hips. When her pussy clutched my cock, and it twitched, she responded: "Uhnn! Oooh! That time it just happened." "Um-hmm." "Will you come, if I just keep doing this?! "Maybe." "And if I don't?" "Then we'll do more, until you do." "And you do again?" "I'm pretty sure, like the first time." "You came twice?" "Um-hmm." "Oh, that's good. Guess I didn't notice the first time; it was all just too arousing." "Um-hmm, very; didn't you want to." "But I do now. Will I?" "If I do, just doing this, probably." "Oooh! That would be good. Just doing this?" "I hope so, think so," I agreed, squeezing and pulling on her nipples. She grinned with a hum and rocked her hips even more actively. Our eyes were still in contact, but our smiles faded as it became more arousing, and we exchanged moans in response to the sensations in her pussy. Then it was getting better, our half-closed eyes losing contact. For a moment, I had to wonder about her wanting to talk about - like no other girl before had. But then I was only aware of what my cock was feeling as her pussy churned on it, clutching and making it surge. Oh yes! I was going to come! I managed to murmur: "I will." I did - my cock did - my hips just twitching under the weight of hers, but the only slightly increased movement was all it took to make my cock surge and spurt as many times as I could recall its ever having done before. She was moaning, her pussy clutching. I probably grunted a couple of times, but wasn't aware that I had. When my cock stopped surging, when my hips stilled, she gave a longer, deeper moan and dropped down over me, murmuring: "You did, fuck me!" Had she said that before, using that word? Her hips were fucking me before mine began to move. This time, my fingers immediately found her asshole. She nodded with an "uhn-hnn," and we fucked. My finger was only rubbing her asshole, its twitching making me aware that her pussy must also be clasping my cock, but that sensation was lost in desperate pounding together of our hips. Then she moaning with whimpering sounds, and then gasped and her pussy flooded my hair with her warm love juice. But I hadn't come again. Not yet, more! She groaned as my hips continued to thrust up, hers still. The tip of my finger stopped rubbing and pressed on the center of her tight hole. I should have thought that it was too dry to do what it wanted, but her asshole was wanting it to, tightening and then relaxing. She gave a pained moan, when it tightened around my fingertip. It didn't go further, just pressing when her asshole tightened, but then her hips began to rock again on my aroused cock, and then they began to ride up and down on it again. Wet sounds, as our hips slapped together. Oh God, please let her come again, let us both come! It wasn't a prayer, just a sacrilegious mental expletive. Fuck! We did with more aroused, desperate moans and groans, as my cock plunged into her tight pussy. This wasn't about loving, just seeking erotically aroused release! She gasped again, and her pussy flushed more warm juice on me, and my cock - finally - spurted again, and a couple of times more. Release! Relief! She collapsed on me, heavy, inert, still gasping and moaning. God, it had been finally so good! Just another mental expletive, not thanks for fulfillment of what had not been a prayer. I embraced her, our stomachs rising and falling with our deep breaths as we recovered. Eventually, she raised her head, and we kissed. She slid off me and reached down and found the rubber, holding it up. "Oooh! You did come twice," she remarked. I didn't have to reply; it was evident from what was in the rubber, this time definitely more that filling the reservoir, to my egotistical delight. she glanced up at me with a grin and said: "You know what I want to do." "Before breakfast?" I asked facetiously. She grinned with a nod. This time, she turned her face up and stuffed the whole rubber in her mouth, just holding the tip, and then slowly pulled it out, her closed lips drawing my semen down to her mouth. When the open end slipped out her mouth, she grinned at me again and let me see her moving her lips and jaw for a few moments, then obviously swallowing with a smirk. I remarked with a grin: "Our sister didn't tell you to do that." She swallowed again, shaking her head on my shoulder, and replied: "Nope!" and grinned. "Getting it both ways?" "Um-hmm!" She grinned again and rolled back on me, wanting another kiss, and getting it. I was a little worried, when her thigh slid down between mine, and she rocked her hips down, but then she raised her head with a grin and said: "I just had to do that, couldn't help it." "Spoiled kid sister." "Um-hmm! Very, thank you!" She kissed me again, and then we got up. Maybe it wasn't appropriate for incestuous siblings to grin and snicker on the way to the bathroom after having fucked like that, made love like that - or for any young couple to - but we did. I was thinking: maybe that was the difference: any "young couple" would - should - have to think they that about a life-time relationship. My sister and I had one, like she had said, even if it wouldn't be like this. In the shower, we washed each other, smiling mildly as we enjoy it. While we made breakfast, we remembered what else we had to do to open the house and agreed what each of us would do. Cleaning up after breakfast, with more fondles than just rubs on each other's ass, we went to work. I finished first and helped her finish her share. When she fondled my balls as she thanked me, that was just familiarly appropriate. Incest was just very nice. I have lost count of the days of the that week. It doesn't matter., since anything - everything - we did after that was more of the same, just as delightful and arousing: oral sex, taking turns; fucking, one day, like she had suggested: morning, sometime, and at night. We did go skinny dipping, and didn't get caught or even observed when we were in the water, fondling each other, trying to make it a little arousing. But then in the house, in my bed, it was very arousing. Friday evening, however, she did surprise me, asking if doing it without a rubber was better. Before I could reply, she told me that her period would start on Saturday or Sunday - theoretically fairly safe by the rhythm method, as she explained in some detail. We had a real argument. I claimed that it would feel the same for me, which I knew was not true, and that it would feel the same for her, which she didn't want to believe. She was only assuaged when I said that when she had to pill on day, we would. She nodded and said that that was a promise, and then we did everything, agreeing that we didn't want to face our parents the next day after having done anything in the morning. We made a feast of it, our possibly last time. She sucked my cock for as long as she could; and then I licked her pussy for as long as I could, letting her recover once before she had her orgasm; and then we fucked, as though we never would again. But we did again in the morning, with our last rubber. I tried to forget it by getting dressed after our shower before breakfast, telling her that we had a lot to do before the parents arrived. We started making breakfast in enough clothes to go and do the laundry, only sheets and towels. Then the phone rang. I answered it: "Oh, hi Mother, so early? ... Yes, we have done everything, going to do laundry. ... Oh! ... Not today? ... Sure, of course. ... We'll go out for dinner; still have enough for lunch. I'll get stuff for breakfast. ... Yes, we have been having a fine time, good luck with the weather. ... I'll tell her, and love to Father, too." My sister was grinning, having understood that our parents would not be coming out until Sunday. I explained that they had to go to business related dinner. Her first question was: "Is the laundromat open on Sunday?" "We'll find out. Still have to be ready to do laundry today, if it isn't." She nodded, and we finished making breakfast and ate. We could postpone the final housecleaning, so we stripped our beds, snickering about the spots from her orgasms, and gathered up all our empty beer cans and drove to the shops. On the way, I suddenly recognized that she could have a problem about her seamless tan and asked: "What about your tan, out here with them?" "Oh, Mother doesn't like me to wear a bikini; he doesn't mind. You weren't around the first time I did, surprising them a couple of years ago. When he said that it looked like I could, she gave in." "Hm-hmm! Aren't Dads nice?" "And brothers, too," and she gave me a nice smile, continuing: "So I'll wear a one-piece suit that covers where tan-lines should be." "Clever. Planned that before?" "At least for the top. Guess I'll show a tan-line there, but maybe - my period - I won't be trying to tan so much." I nodded, and we stopped at the laundromat. It would be open on Sunday, so we bought eggs and milk for breakfast and a six pack and returned to the house. She started to take off her polo shirt as soon as she was inside, surprised, when I unfastened her bra with one hand, while she was pulling the shirt up over her head. Chuckling, we hurried to get undressed again, agreeing that we only had to put sheets back on my bed. Then we were out on the deck again. By then, we didn't always have to be touching each other and were just lying in the sun, almost dozing. Suddenly she exclaimed: Birthday Present For My Sister Ch. 03 "Oh damn! We should have bought more rubbers." "Can this evening, in the restaurant." "Maybe too late." "Stop thinking about it; have to stop sometime." "But not yet." Her hand reached over and found my cock, and she murmured in a pleading tone: "Just one more time, before I can't." "Not without." "Then any other way." I wasn't going to argue with her, because I knew it would be useless, and - well - she was almost holding me by my balls. She rolled towards me, changing hands, and then her fingers were gathering them up in my very loose sack. How often had they done that in the last few days? "Not out here," I murmured, and we went back in the house. Could she suck my cock any better than she had before? I doubted it, but it seemed like she was trying to. Kneeling on the floor next to my bed, twice, she let my tight sack relax and then sucked each of my balls. She hadn't done that before, and I wasn't wanting her to do it a third time, when my sack was just a tight ball in her hand. I just wanted to come in her mouth, wanted relief from my so extended arousal after having been almost brought to the edge twice by her now so experienced sucking and licking. She also wanted me to. I knew how much she loved to feel my semen spurt in her mouth and to taste it; she had told me. With deep moans and then a gasp and grunt, I came, spurting again and again. She moaned, almost biting my cock when she had to swallow what had hit the back of her throat, but that only confirmed that I had come so good. But it all hadn't landed there; she was swilling it around the head of my cock in her mouth and then rose up and dove down over me. I knew what to expect. Our mouths met, and she shared it with me. What better way to confirm that she had done it so good! Then I was on my knees between her thighs - until she drew them up towards her shoulders. Could I, how could I give her as much pleasure? Not just her pussy but also her asshole - twitching asshole - was licked several times before between moans and chuckles she muttered: "stop teasing me." I did, with two fingers in her pussy, sucking and nibbling on her clitoris, vaguely think that her last time would be like her first time with me. It was better for her, because she now had so much experience? I wished that I could have lapped up all her love juice, but my fingers were in the way, and there was more of it than that first time, my hand drenched. When she had gasped and moaned a couple of times, her pussy squeezing my fingers a couple of times more, she insisted: "Fuck me!" It didn't surprise me; she had said it the night before and when we had done this before, like on the table. I forgot about our not having a rubber. My cock wanted to, I wanted to. Did I even think about her arguments why it would be all right? I rose up on my knees, and my fingers slipped out, and my cock plunged into her so wet pussy. She gave a relieved sounding moan, and her pussy squeezed my cock. I suddenly thought of a firm handclasp between old friends. Multiple orgasms?! It seemed like it; her pussy immediately as aroused as it had been on my fingers, flooding my cock after a few hard thrusts. Then I was less aware of her gasps and moans, so much more aware of the renewed arousal of my cock, as my hips slapped against hers. I had been right, it felt so much better without a rubber. For her too? I wasn't thinking about not having a rubber, just that it was feeling so fucking good. I couldn't have come in her pussy as much as I did in her mouth, but it still felt like I had, and when I did, she moaned as though she felt it, like she had when it was in her mouth. Only after I had come, when our eyes met again as we were recovering, did I remember that we didn't have a rubber, that I had shot my semen - all those little tadpoles - straight in her pussy. Dear sister, she managed to give me a slight smile and murmured: "It will be all right." I nodded, hoping so, then withdrawing my cock, and hoping that the mixture of our liquids that oozed out of her pussy could include everything my cock had put in it. She drew me down for a kiss, repeating her assurance that it would be all right. We took a shower, a very subdued shower, despite washing each other almost like we had evenings before we went to bed and had made love. Yes, that was the expression that came to my mind. After we had dried ourselves, she murmured that she better use a tampon, and I left her alone in the bathroom. I got dressed again. When she passed my door, she noticed and also put back on her clothes - not her bra. We had lunch with a beer, and then agreed to take a walk on the beach. That turned out to have been a very good idea. Saturday afternoon, there were more people on Fire Island, and we ran into a couple who were friends of our parents who also had a house. That not only distracted us from how we had spent the week, but also gave us something to tell our parents. After we were going back to our house, she suddenly glanced at me and asked: "Will they tell them that I wasn't wearing a bra?" "Hmm! He won't!" "But her?" "Hmm? Maybe she says something to him about it, and he tells her that it's none of her business, that all young girls don't." "And she asks him how he knows?" We both almost laughed out loud. I suggested: "If she does, just insist that you were. Their daughter doesn't have much to show." "Not much of an argument." "Father will take his side." "Like he did with my bikini?" "Something like that. At least, now you know that they might say something." "Hmm?!" We continued our walk, apparently tacitly agreeing to spend our time on the beach until we could go to dinner. We joked about our observing other girls and women, whether we thought or could see that they were or weren't wearing bras. Eventually, we returned to our house and had another beer while changing into clothing appropriate for the restaurant, a better one than before. It was a silent drive there. She slid closer to me and put her hand on my thigh, but we just exchanged smiles. When the waiter asked if we wanted wine, we nodded at each other and had a glass of house wine, and another one, before we finished our nice meal. We made conversation by telling each other what we had done during the week. Of course, not what we had actually had done, but as though we were enjoying recalling what we could have been doing, what we could tell our parents. After I paid the bill, she whispered that she had to use the toilet, and then I did too. Before we had to part, she whispered that I should replenish my supply of rubbers. I did. When we met again, I nodded, and she smiled slightly, remarking softly: "Not for me, for us, but since we used them all." "For us, not that I was thinking we would need them." "Nor me." holding hands, we returned to the car. I opened the door for her. She was sitting close to the driver's seat when I got in. She put her hand on my thigh again, but murmured: "I'm pretty sure we can't." "Just as well, even if we could; time to start trying to forget." "Not forget, never." "Um-hmm, never." We drove back in silence. We didn't need another beer, but the last two cans had to be finished. We drank them out on the deck, watching the moon rise, hardly speaking, just our hands touching on the railing. I was worrying about our having done it without a rubber -- worrying again. She must have been thinking about it too; she murmured again: "It will be all right." I nodded, then suddenly realized that worry had pushed thoughts about our incestuous relationship further back in my mind. But now they were in front again: so we had done it, but would it stay a secret? Would we again? I had promised her that we would, when she had the pill, but that was about doing it without a rubber. We had done that now, fulfilling my promise? Would she have a problem with her missing tan-lines, not the hint of ones on her shoulders? I murmured: "Tan-lines, shoulders?" "We didn't swim as much as we were saying in the restaurant, just reading a lot." "You brought a book?" "We have some here." "Read them all." "I know, brought one." "Hmm, what?" "Hm-hmm! Lady Chatterley." "Really?!" "Um-hmm. Good thing you asked; can take it back for me, shelf in the den, over head high, to the left, left of a book for brides. Have to find it. Has an inscription to Mother from her mother." "Hmm? Really. Read it?" "Not nearly as helpful as what our sister told me. Hm-hmm! A warning not to be surprised how big it is." We chuckled and were silent again, sipping our beer. Then I asked: "Were you going to let me see you reading it to suggest something?" "I would have brought my rubbers if I had had that in mind." We were silent again, my thoughts returning to what we had done - just in general, not in detail. We finished our beers and returned to the house. As we were undressing in our rooms, she came to my door, still in her underwear, and asked if she should make up her bed. "Only if you want to," I replied, appreciating her tactful suggestion. "Not really." "I didn't want you to." She smiled and unhooked her bra, as she turned back to her room. I went to the bathroom, thinking that she might prefer to be alone, if she wanted to change her tampon. I returned to my room with my shorts in my hand. When she saw me, she smiled with a nod and slipped her panties down, stepping out of them on the way to the bathroom. She returned in the dark and slipped into bed with me, immediately turning her back to me. I wasn't sure if I should hold her closer, just putting my hand on her hip, but she drew it up to her breast, murmuring: "I wanted to sleep like this just one more time." "I did too." "It's been so good. Thank you for everything." "It has been, very good, too good." "Um-hmm, all those times I said I shouldn't know it could be that good." "And they were, very good, too good, also for me." "Mmmmm, that's nice, for both of us, too good." "Um-hmmm." "'To Sleep, perchance to dream ...'?" "'Aye, there's the rub,'" I completed the line from Hamlet, and unconsciously my fingers rubbed her nipple. "Hmm! Don't do that. Hamlet wasn't talking about that." "I know, just couldn't help it. Better just to dream." "Hope I have some good ones about you this summer." "And about you." "Don't forget them and tell me when I come back." "You too." "I want to kiss you good night." She rolled back against me, and we kissed, really just a goodnight kiss. She rolled forward again, and we got comfortable, wishing each other goodnight. It was probably good that we had finished the beer; with just fond thoughts, I quickly fell asleep. In the morning, we postponed our showers till after breakfast and the last housecleaning. Clothed, we made breakfast and ate, hardly speaking. It seemed that she felt the way I did, that I didn't want to refer to all we had done, but couldn't get it out of my mind enough to think of anything else to talk about. After we had cleaned up in the kitchen, agreeing that it would be like Mother expected to find it, she suggested that I do the laundry, while she started the housecleaning. It was, of course, a good idea for us to be apart for a little while. As I drove off with the laundry and our last garbage, it occurred to me that we had been in sight of each other - mostly nude - the whole week, and when our eyes had been closed - at night or during the day - we had always been in physical contact, not the first night, but after that, and "physical contact" was just a mild expression for how we had been. At the laundromat, waiting, I felt a little ashamed of myself for looking at the couple of young women who came in, as though I were being unfaithful to my sister. It was worse, when one of them smiled and spoke to me, asking if I was going to do laundry the following week, a veiled question if I was going to be around during the week. Whatever she could have been hinting at, I could tell that I wouldn't be. Did she look slightly disappointed? She offered to help me fold our sheets. I let her. When she discovered that I had four sheets, she smiled slightly. I escaped and drove back. My sister had been very busy and told me what she had left for me to do. We then gave the place a last inspection and agreed to take separate showers. Since I had to give the bathroom a final wipe, she went first. Then I had mine and shaved. Still naked, I began to clean, very surprised when I heard her speak: "Oh, of course. I have something on. Hm-hmm! When I found a few curly hairs, I went back and checked where else they could be. Found some more." "Good thing that you did then," I replied with my back still to her. "Um-hmm. I'll go away, didn't really want to see you like this again." She did, as I thought: maybe it would all work out, if she could say that. She didn't see me return to my room to get dressed. When we saw each other again, we both just smirked slightly, and waited for our parents to arrive. It did work out. They arrived and greeted us, Mother again saying something about hoping we had gotten along together. She always said that, since when we were younger we sometimes hadn't. Father said something about our tans and got a frown from Mother when he asked: "In your bikini?" "Of course, how'd you guess?" my sister replied with the impish smile she saved for him, but getting another frown from her mother, then adding: "But I won't wear it when you're both out here." He feigned a disappointed scowl, but nodded. Mother nodded approvingly. I thought that my sister had won that round, more confident that she could handle any other questions about our week together. They had brought more food, and Mother started making lunch, my sister immediately offering to help. That was also good, since she hadn't always volunteered to do anything around the house. We had lunch and spent the rest of the day like we always had. With our parents there, we got out deckchairs to sit in the sun, in our clothes. I was going to return to our apartment in the city to start my job the next day, and Mother explained that Martha, the Norwegian au pair, would cook dinner. My sister said that I could make breakfast, praising my omelettes. I replied that she had cooked well, herself. She was less pleased, when Mother suggested that she could cook dinner for us, offering just to help. Since there could be a lot of traffic back to the City Sunday evening, the two of them went off to prepare an early dinner. My father and I sat in the sun, not having much to say, but we were accustomed to that. I asked about the business dinner, and he told that they couldn't have not gone: business associates, etc. He asked how we had spent our time, and I remembered our conversation in the restaurant and her tanned shoulders, and said that we had spent most of the time just sunning, venturing to add that she was looking forward to her trip to Europe. That was good, letting him tell about her itinerary and his first trip to Europe. When we were called to dinner, we talked more about her trip, a nice, fairly safe subject, except for mine and probably her recollections of what we had discussed about it. Then it was time for me to finish packing. While I was, I heard her say that she wanted to thank me for my birthday present. She came in my room, smiling, and handed me "Lady Chatterley," as she said loud enough for our parents to hear: "Thank you so much for coming out here with me. It was better than I had even hoped." "For me too," I agreed so that they could hear, adding: "My pleasure." She whispered: "It's all right, started. God that was good! Thank you," and then louder: "Good luck with your summer job." "Thank you, and with your trip." She pursed her lips, and I did, and she returned to the table. With my bag, I joined them and wished them a nice week together and good weather, shaking hands with my parents as usual, and then with my sister, getting a nice smile. My father had smiled, but also given me a sterner look. Then I was off. Before my sister goes to Europe, more happens, a lot more for each of us - with Martha. But first, as a little interlude, later that summer I have an interesting conversation with our older sister.