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Stacy King and I

By: clearwinston



I could swear she was winking at me. It sure looked that way. But maybe it was just me...

Oh, wait. I'm sorry. I should probably start further back so you know what's going on.

Her name is Stacy and she's a goddess, one of those women that will never grace the cover of a magazine, but is beautiful. She's not frail looking or petite. Stacy isn't built like a Victoria's Secret angel, but she's a star in her own right. She has starred in several recent films. You may have never heard of her, but it's only because her films are all private productions. Independent films. Films that exist only in the library of my mind.

Stacy has always been cute. When I went to college, she left at the same time to spend two years in England on a scholarship to study abroad, but she showed up on my campus as a freshman when I was a junior. I couldn't believe it. The first time I had seen her in two years and it was hard to imagine it was her. She had changed so much in that time, but I could still tell it was her. No one I had ever met looked like Stacy. Growing up together in a small town before I left for college, everyone knew her. Well, everyone knew everyone. Stacy worked at the ice cream shop in town. It was one of those old-time family-run ice cream shops that served a variety of sandwiches and all the ice cream was hand-scooped. For a small place, they had a surprising variety. And it was the good kind, too: confetti, birthday cake, rocky road, and Stacy's favorite: bubble gum. Mine was the orange cream; you know, the one that has orange sherbet and vanilla all swirled together. I liked mine in a cup, but Stacy usually got hers in a cone. I'll never forget watching her eating ice cream off a cone. I swear she was teasing me, but she was so nonchalant about it. We would sometimes sit at a bench on the brick sidewalk, talking and eating our ice cream. She would laugh while looking through me with those deep green eyes. Then take a swipe at her ice cream, her tongue brushing against the rim of the cone as she traced a swirl of ice cream around the edge before pulling back a cream-covered tongue. When I was younger, it never occurred to me and as I got older I guess I tried to deny it or brush it off as a ridiculous thought.

And now she was here on my campus. Those same green eyes looking around the small campus in the Georgia heat, searching. Scanning. Those eyes are amazing. Have I mentioned her eyes? Whoever said "the eyes are the window to the soul" must have met Stacy. Always expressive, it's hard for her to lie. At least to me. Because we were close she shared a lot of her life with me: her joys and excitement, her fears and sorrows. I liked to think I could read her like a book, but then again, she is a woman, and I'm not. There's only so much I can know about her. Even so, there's a lot about Stacy that only I know. From our talks outside the ice cream shop to our hikes down to the creek, to our shopping trips, she has spent a lot of time swearing me to secrecy. And I've done my fair share of asking her to take the oath as well.

So, yeah, her eyes. Those green eyes continued to search. I could tell when she had made eye contact with someone because when I would follow her gaze, which would pause for just a moment, it always seemed like she would give a little smile, then turn away while the other person tried to hold her stare. In just a matter of a few minutes, I was not the only one to notice Stacy had arrived. I began to see guys jab their friends with elbows and nod in her direction. Even the ones she had not made eye contact with yet.

My apologies. All you know about Stacy is that she has green eyes. Let me clarify. Her deep green eyes sit just above cheeks that are lightly freckled and betray a perpetual smile. Her mouth is surrounded by fine pink lips, not plump like a celebrity, but thin and pink, outlining her straight white teeth. When she would smile, her teeth would stay together, but when she would laugh, her teeth would separate to expose a perfect pink tongue that would dance near the back of her mouth with each jarring expression of joy. That agile tongue that could move with laughter, but writhe through lime sherbet on a cone, carving a frame in the filmstrip of my memories. And when she would speak, any time she said "th", the tip of her tongue would just peak out for an instant, resting against her top front teeth. There was just something sensual about it.

Her jawline was wide and square, with dull points at the hinges below her perfectly formed ears, and the slope of her jaw narrowed together toward a rounded, albeit narrow, chin. Because her jaw was square, she kept her chestnut brown hair long, often swept to one side while the other was tucked behind her ear. This kept it out of her way when she wrote her English notes in class or helped me with math, even though she was two years behind me in school. She would explain something by writing a problem on paper, then look up at me sideways, hair behind her ear, asking if I understood. Either way, she had that perpetual smile. One side of her perfect mouth would curl up, usually when she caught me looking.

I'm glad she wore sweaters and t-shirts. And not the low-cut sweaters or the form-fitting t-shirts. She just wore jeans and t-shirts. Her humor showed in her shirts a lot of times, with funny pictures or phrases. She has family in New York City so a lot of her t-shirts come from a family member or two who will get an original design from a vendor when it makes them think of her. No one else in town or on campus has ever had a t-shirt like she wears. Anyway, I'm glad she wears t-shirts or I would never get anything done. On more than one occasion I would catch myself (and probably Stacy would catch me, too) looking at her chest. Stacy is...how should I put this?... "blessed". I have no idea what size her breasts are, but they are of sufficient size to draw attention from any breast man. Stacy has a more voluptuous build than a lot of men are attracted to at my age. She's not small, thin, or even athletic, but she's not a "big, beautiful woman" either, by internet standards. If I had to give a comparison, I would call her "plus size". You know, she has the build to be a plus-size model: curves, but smooth skin and form. Her ass is full and high and her legs are strong and proportionate. I don't know. Maybe she's a size 12 if I'm spitballing here. But she's in perfect proportion. I've never heard any of the guys I've known call her fat and a few girls have been jealous of her and of the attention she gets. I've only seen her in a bikini once because I assured her we would be alone when we went on a hike to the creek at the base of the waterfall where we could swim. The rest of the time she wears a one-piece, but fills it out nicely. Everyone seems to think so.

So that's Stacy. Still searching the campus while standing beside her car. I'm not the only one to have noticed her, of course. It's a small campus and here we are in the quad, where I told her to meet me. I should probably...

"THOMAS!" She found me.

Shit! I forgot to introduce myself. Sorry. My name is Thomas Hunter. I'm just starting my junior year and working on my fourth major declaration. Still no idea what I want to do. I mean, I have passions and interests, but I need something that can make me a living. My parents want me to come work at their company when I graduate, but at the same time, I'm not a keen business mind. I'm more the creative type. And I love history and useless trivia, so I'm thinking something more along the lines of education or even graphic design. So, anyway, that's me.

Not a lot going on physically. I have kind of a slight build, only weighing it at 135 pounds after two years of lifting weights. When I graduated high school I was 115 pounds. At 5'6". Yeah. I was puny. Because of the weights and because I've been playing football with friends every Sunday, I'm in better shape now, but I'll never be huge. I have some good tone, but I'm not ripped. I've got blue eyes and light brown hair, cut short and swept back because I don't have a natural part. If I grow my hair out longer it becomes unmanageable because it has big curls. My hair looks good either really long so I can style it some, or really short before it curls. I typically keep it short and it looks all right, I think. I also have a rough beard, I guess you would call it a little longer than five o-clock shadow. At least it comes in even and without scruff I look a lot younger than my 20 years.

"Hey, Stacy!" I waved back and walked to greet her as she ran toward me, the cartoon Buddha on her shirt dancing toward me as if in a 5.0 earthquake. Stacy wore my favorite jeans. Did she know? Maybe they're my favorites because she always wears them. They look great on her, lifting her ass and forming to her thighs before flaring out a little over her brown leather shoes.

She was on me before I knew it, almost knocking me backwards. Fortunately I was standing beside the half-wall of stone that raised to the grassy field divided in quarters by aggregate sidewalks. Arms tightly around my neck, she squealed in my ear, "Oooh, I've missed you so much! I can't believe we're going to be in college together!"

"Yeah, It's gonna be great! Listen, though, you can't park there. Security will give you a ticket in a heartbeat. Until you get your parking pass tomorrow, you'll need to park behind the gym. Everything else is reserved."

"Oh. I didn't know. I'll move it."

"No, don't do that. Go get in your car and you can follow me and I'll help you unload your stuff. I'll take you to dinner in town tonight. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good to me." She gave me another quick hug and it was tough not to notice her breasts pressing into my chest. Fortunately she pulled away before I could rise to attention. By the time I got to my car, however, it had started, even competing for blood that my legs needed. I must really need to empty the bank, so to speak. Stacy looked great. I couldn't get her out of my head as I started up my green Toyota Tacoma and drove the perimeter of campus to get to Stacy and her gray Ford Focus. It's a good thing I had my stereo on or she probably would have heard a seam rip from my boner. I had driven up just in time to see one foot on the pavement beside her car and her other knee on the driver's seat with her ass forced against her jeans. The only disturbance in that force was the outline of her iPhone in her left rear pocket, tilted with two corners resting on opposing seams. With a quick shuffle she backed out of the car and waved a big white envelope and said, "Registration forms. Don't want to lose these." 

Then a wink. Right? That was a wink wasn't it? Dammit!

"Okay. You ready?" I yelled out the window as she shut her door and put on her sunglasses. Damn, she looks good in sunglasses. Fortunately for me, she doesn't wear those giant shades that look ridiculous. She wears practical wraparounds. And she looks amazing in them. She looked at me through the iridescent lenses and gave me a thumbs up before backing up into a parking space to wait for me. I followed suit and we were quickly on our way.

Normally the school has a strict policy that anyone under 21 and single has to stay in campus housing. They have made a list of reasons, but everyone knows it's for the money. The school is private so it doesn't get any state funding. As a result, the tuition is higher and they have a bunch of rules that will bring money in. Discipline comes in the form of free work hours cleaning toilets or picking up litter or wiping down tables. And the security hands out parking tickets like Santa throwing Tootsie Rolls at the end of a parade.

However, since I'm a junior and have lived on campus for two years, am on honor roll and have learned how to kiss some ass, I was able to appeal to live off campus and it was granted. As a result, I found another loophole that the school had never closed, which allows attending family members to live off campus if they have a town residence. Which I do. So Stacy and I were on our way to the apartment we are going to share in town.

Oh. Back up. I forgot to mention that Stacy is my sister. Technically she's my half-sister, but blood is blood. My mother was married once before and my father was killed by a freak aneurism while my mother was pregnant with me. Stacy's dad met her when she went in as a customer to his kitchen and bath remodeling business and after working on her kitchen design together for a few weeks, he asked her out. They only dated a few months before having a small wedding and by their first anniversary, Stacy was born. So we have different last names: mine is Hunter and hers is King. As in "Kitchen King", the family business I'm supposed to run one day. On the upside, Stacy is more suited to run it. But we've got time and that's not the issue right now.

The issue is my giant hard-on as we pull into the apartment complex and park in the reserved spot and a guest spot to unload Stacy's things.

Fortunately the apartments were nice and there were a lot of responsible college students who lived here, so I felt safe unlocking the door and propping it open while we gathered her things and climbed the flight of stairs on each trip before dropping boxes, suitcases and milk crates on the twin bed in what would be Stacy's room. Mom and Dad had provided plenty of furniture to help us out, so the apartment was mostly furnished. I don't know how many times I heard Dad grumble about the kitchen and bathrooms, but I reminded him that it was an apartment, not an investment and it was only temporary for us. He relented and held his tongue, telling me he was proud of me before they had left after helping me move in at the end of the spring semester.

I was trying to decide if I should be a gentleman and do the heavy lifting of getting stuff out of the trunk or if I should stand behind her and watch her ass as she leaned in to pull out blue milk crates. I opted for the former, getting the boxes out and handing one to Stacy, then grabbing one for me and following her up the stairs on the pretense of being there to catch her if she should fall backward. So that gave me the ass view I was looking for.

When we dropped the last boxes on the floor in her room, she stood up, tucked her hair behind her ear and with that Stacy sympathy tone, said, "Thank you, Thomas."

"It's not a big deal. I couldn't let you take the heavy..."

"No," she cut me off and walked toward me before hugging me around the waist, putting her chin on my right shoulder. "I mean thank you for everything," she whispered. 

My stomach stirred. "Everything? What do you mean?"

Looking down and putting her hands in her back pockets, Stacy stammered, "I don't know. Just...everything. Yes, the boxes. And the apartment. But...I don't know...you've just always been there for me. You've never made me feel like a burden or like I was bothering you. Even when I had a friend over to play, you didn't seem bothered by us. Like that time you let us paint your nails?" she smiled and raised her eyebrows.

"Hey! That was our little secret!" My voice raised in mock anger and I pointed my finger at her in warning. I quickly broke into a smile. Stacy reached for my finger, pulled it to her lips and kissed the tip, resting it there as she breathed out, "Our little secret." She then placed her index finger on my lips and said, "Shhhh". Out of instinct, I kissed her finger while swimming in her green eyes. I hope she didn't hear my heart, It was jumping out of my chest!

"Ahem," I cleared my throat and stepped back, looking at my watch, "It's, uh, almost 5. Are you getting hungry or...?"

With a smile, easing the tension, Stacy smiled that smile, "I could eat. Let me buy dinner for you tonight. It's so good to see you again and I want to just hang out with you tonight."

"Are you sure? I have money."

"Yep. I'm sure. You can buy next time. Where do you want to go?"

"I've been wanting to take you to the Crowe's Nest. It's my favorite place in town. Do you still like Buffalo wings?"

"Hell, yeah!" She rolled her eyes. "After two years in England, I'm ready for a meal with some heat to it!"

"Sounds like a plan. You can catch me up while we eat."

"Great. Let me get changed real quick. After driving and unloading in this heat, I need to freshen up."

"Well it's a casual place, so don't go out of your way."

"Sure thing. I just want to clean up and change. I'll be ready in a few minutes."

I plopped down on the leather sofa and turned on the television. When a woman says, "in a few minutes" it could mean anything. I was tempted to go to Netflix, but instead just settled on one of my favorite sitcom reruns. I heard Stacy moving around in her room for a couple of minutes, apparently grabbing her things before I heard the bathroom door close. Sure enough in about 15 minutes, I heard the door open and Stacy's voice saying, "Okay, I'm ready."

I think I just came in my pants. Not really, but I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. I tried not to stare and attempted to look unfazed, but I don't know how successful I was.

When I heard her voice I turned off the television and stood up while turning around to grab my keys off the end table. What I saw stopped time. There she stood, my green-eyed goddess. My sister. Stacy's hair was pulled back into a pony tail and she had refreshed her make up. Her lips had a light gloss over the pink lipstick and her eyes had a little green eye shadow and black eye liner. Stacy was wearing a silver heart pendant on a chain that I had bought for her on her sixteenth birthday, the pendant dangled just at the crest of her cleavage, where her pale pink tank top had pushed her sizable breasts together. It was clear she wasn't wearing a bra and I could see two bumps as her nipples pushed the cotton fabric out. She was wearing white cheerleading shorts with pink trim and waist string and matching pink flip flops. Her toenails and fingernails were painted alternating pink and pale green.

"Is this all right, Thomas?"

My voice caught in my throat as I croaked out "Uuhh. Ahem. It's fine. Yeah. Um, it's a casual place. You look great. I mean you look good. That's fine." I couldn't get anything to sound right without giving myself away. Dammit, Thomas, this is your sister for crying out loud! Get a hold of yourself, I thought.

"Great, then let's go. I'm in the mood for something spicy," she said with a smirk and a wink again. She turned away from me to grab her purse, but her head turned last as she continued to look me in the eye over her shoulder until her body forced her head to break contact . Yep, no bra strap across the back. I'm glad she turned around because it gave me a chance to read the pink varsity lettering across the back of her shorts: "Cutie"

I'll say. And it was not interrupted by panty lines. I wondered if that meant no panties, or was she wearing a thong. Either way, how could I lose? I grabbed my keys and followed her out the front door and down the stairs before catching up with her at the sidewalk and walking beside her to my truck. As she bounded down the stairs, I followed the varsity lettering as it cheered me on in bounces and slight jiggling on each step:

Cutie

Cutie

Cutie

Cutie

Cutie

Cutie

Being the gentleman that I am, I opened her door first, and took her hand to help her up into the cab. As she took my hand, she smiled at me and said, "Thank you, kind sir," grabbing the handle above the window and stepping on the runner to step into the cab. I tried with subtlety to watch her legs as she stepped up, noting the flex of her quad muscle and quickly glancing up her thigh to the hem of her shorts before closing the door. As I made my way around the tail of the truck, I adjusted my burgeoning erection to flatten it against my stomach so that it pointed up and reduced its bulge. Stepping into the driver's side cab, I nonchalantly asked if she was ready to eat.


Stacy King and I Ch. 02



The windows rattled with another peal of thunder, causing Stacy to jerk her finger from my lips as she cowered at the sound. It appeared the storm was right on top of us now.

I quickly leaned in to hold her in an effort to protect her from the building storm. Her arms flew around me with her head buried in my chest. My arms were wrapped around her shoulders and my cheek rested atop her head, the scent of her shampoo again filling my nostrils.

"Stay with me tonight, Thomas," she asked. It was not a romantic plea, but rather that of a scared sister asking for her brother's protection.

CRACK!

Another bolt of thunder, right outside our window. The lights flickered for only a moment, but held fast. At the noise, my sister squeezed me tightly, making herself into as small of a ball as possible, as if she were a turtle in hiding. Maybe if the storm didn't notice her, it would go away, she might be thinking. Instinctually, I tightened my hold on her in response to her movement.

"Are you sure?"

She didn't say anything, but nodded her head quickly against my chest.

"Stacy," I said, unwrapping from around her and pulling her back so she could look me in the eye, "look at me." She looked up, fear evident in her visage. "I need to hear you say it. Are you sure you want me to share a bed with you tonight?"

"Yes, T. I want to share a bed tonight." She looked as confident as I'd ever seen her. As if trying to convince me, she reached over to the other side of the bed and grabbed a handful of bedspread, pulling it down to show the light brown sheets underneath. "Hold me in the storm. Please." My sister's eyes never left mine as I lay down and pulled the covers over me. She was still lying on top of the sheets on her side, though they were folded back. She had uncovered herself to be able to put on the show we both so desperately wanted.

I watched as she raised her hips to pull the sheets down before raising her legs and tucking them under the top sheet and cranberry bedspread with gold flourish woven throughout. My mother chose it calling it "elegant, romantic, and yet still masculine." I had to agree, and it looked nice against my dark cherry bed frame. Somehow, seeing a woman lying under it moved it more to the realm of elegance and romance, and the masculinity of it didn't seem so important anymore.

Stacy rolled over to face me and I reached up and turned off the lamp on my nightstand, the only light in the room. As soon as the lamp was extinguished, however, it became apparent that the light from the parking lot and lightning flashes were enough to illuminate the image of the woman in my bed. As my eyes adjusted, a shadow crossed in front of my face, but I soon felt Stacy's hand on the side of my head, stroking my hair, her thumb tracing the contour of my ear.

"You make me feel so safe," she whispered, continuing to stroke my hair and cheek. "Am I safe here with you, brother?"

"Yes," I whispered in return, not even thinking of a different possibility.

I couldn't mention it, but I was still hard. She was still wearing that tank top and lying on her side pressed her breasts together even more, her cleavage meeting near her throat. Her silver pendant slid over to the right, now resting askew on her shoulder. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I could smell her arousal. Maybe it was still on her hand, maybe it was caught on my boxer shorts, the ones she had worn when she pleasured herself; the ones she is still wearing. Maybe it had leaked onto the sheet. Maybe it was just in my head.

"Good," she replied. Her hand left my head as she moved in to kiss me again on the corner my mouth, this time lingering for just a moment before backing off and rolling over, putting her back to me. I rolled over onto my back and lay there looking at the ceiling as the flashes of lightning spasmodically lit the spinning ceiling fan, casting an oblong shadow. I lay like that for what seemed like an eternity, replaying the evening's events in my mind yet again and scrolling through the transcript of our brief conversation before she rolled over. I listened for word choice, tone of voice, anything I could think of that would give me some semblance of understanding on how I should respond.

Was she still flirting with me? Did she want more? Or was she just my scared little sister needing protection? Was she as confused as I was? Should I make a move or wait for her to make one? If I touched her, would she be offended? Relieved? Pissed off? SHIT!

CRACK! CRACK!

I was on her as fast as she flinched, my chest against her back. "I'm here, Stacy. Shhhh." My arm was over her arm and my face was buried in her hair. I moved my head back and used my cheek to brush her hair out of my face so I could stay close without my nose tickling. Soon enough she relaxed and her breathing became steady. Her left hand took my right, which was draped over her, and she intertwined her fingers into mine, giving me a light squeeze.

Outside the storm continued on, but the thunder became more distant, rolling again instead of cracking, indicating that it was on its way out. In just a few minutes I was asleep, nestled against my sister.

It was before dawn, but I was awake. "Thomas," there came a whisper. Then a little louder, but still softly, "Thomas."

It was Stacy. "Yeah?"

"Um..." She wiggled her ass a little.

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry!" My erection was poking her. It was extended out and was pressed into her ass, or maybe her thigh. I couldn't really tell.

She giggled a little bit and said, "It's okay. It's just a little uncomfortable. Can you do something about that?" I backed up and began to turn over; she immediately reached back and grabbed my hip to stop me. "No! Not that. Just...I don't know....move it. Trap it...somehow. Something." It was obvious she didn't know what I was supposed to do with it, but I knew what she didn't want. She didn't want it to go away.

I moved back for just a moment and adjusted it to trap it against my stomach so that it pointed up. Then I settled back in. My dick was now confined between my abdomen and my sister's lush ass. She shuddered a little when I was nestled back against her. "Oh," she muttered, "there it is."

"Better?" I asked, now harder than I had been before.

She wiggled her ass as if testing it, causing my cock to rest in the crevice. "Much," she replied while reaching behind her to brush my cheek. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

"Mine, too," she responded. She grabbed my hand again and kissed it before snuggling up to me, wiggling her ass in a slow grind a couple of times before resting her, and my, hand next to her cleavage. The storm had passed, yet we were closer together than we had been when I was trying to comfort her. Just to try my luck, I pressed my hips forward, pressing my erection against her even harder while pulling her back against me with the hand over her breast. Stacy muttered something that was clearly pleasurable, but I couldn't make out what it was. I relaxed again.

"Good night, Stacy."

A sigh, "Good night, T."

Sunlight had turned my window blinds to a pale yellow as they worked to protect my sister and I from blinding rays. It was definitely morning. And I was definitely hard again. Or still. Whatever. Either way...

I was still entangled with Stacy, my boner buried between her cheeks, pointing up her spine separated by my shorts and her boxers. My hand was no longer up by her breast, but was instead resting on the side of her right thigh, about halfway between the hem of the boxers and the bend in her knee. My legs were bent almost parallel to hers. And I loved being here.

Partially because I needed to stretch and partially because I wanted to feel it again, I stretched my whole body, straightening my legs and core and pulling my arm up and out behind me. This had the effect of stretching me out, but also forced me to drive my hips forward, further pressing my erection into the crack of my sister's ass. 

Stacy moved forward a little, being pushed from behind by my little stunt. 

"Mmmmm, is that for me?" she asked without looking back. She pressed her hips back against me before relaxing and falling a little forward again.

Feeling playful I responded, "What do you think?" and pressed forward again. This time she pressed back immediately and held there, moving her hips in small circles while pressed against me.

"I sure hope so." She turned her head to look over her shoulder and looked me straight in the eye. Reaching back with her right hand, she placed it at the base of my skull and pulled me in, kissing me lightly on the lips and holding me there for just a moment. As soon as her lips left mine, she said, "Good morning, big brother."

"Good morning, little sister," I replied in kind.

She looked down at her chest and thrust it out. "Don't you mean, 'not-so-little' sister?" and smiled back at me.

"Beautiful sister." This earned me another kiss. And a grind. I pressed back as we looked each other in the eyes, our smiles fading to expressions of bliss and, on my part, lust. Stacy looked away as she turned her head, at the same time taking the hand I had placed back on her thigh. 

She brought my hand around to her stomach, holding it in her own with a tight grip as she pressed back against me again, relaxing and repeating the movement. Out of instinct and hoping I was right, I began pressing back again, using her ass crack to stroke myself as the inside of my cotton shorts rubbed against the bottom of my cock and head.

"Oh," I heard a muffled moan from her pillow. That was a good sign. I stroked her stomach lightly and her hand released mine, giving me access to this area of her body. Because she was still curled up, I couldn't move my hand very far. Instead I ran my hand down over her hip so I could stroke the smooth skin of her thigh. Another moan, this one accompanied by a twitch. A spasm. It interrupted her thrusting back at me, but only for a moment and I was still able to continue my movements unaided and uninterrupted.

My sister grabbed my hand from her thigh and held it tight for only a second. She brought it back in front of her and kissed my hand. Her head turned toward me, eyes closed, almost like waiting to know I was watching her before she opened her amazing green eyes and looked right into mine. They were filled with passion. There was no mistaking that look. 

While piercing my soul with her gaze, she pulled my hand up and placed it on her right breast, giving herself a squeeze through my hand before releasing it and reaching back behind my head again. With my dick sandwiched in her ass, and my hand on her tit, I kissed my sister. The fire in her kiss melted my resolve. Whatever doubt I had was scorched by her fire. Her desire was unmistakable. She wanted me. She wanted her brother as much as he wanted her. 

Surprisingly, Stacy was the first to invite her tongue, licking along my upper lip expectantly, tickling it with that luscious pink muscle. I returned the kiss by introducing my own tongue to hers, which only served to fan her flame. She writhed even more violently against my groin, rotating her hips and constantly pressing back against me. Her hand grabbed at the back of my head. Her other hand was still under her pillow, but I could only imagine she was clawing at the sheets in the same manner. We kissed with unquenchable passion. I couldn't help but squeeze and grope and pull on her tit as if I was trying to remove it from her chest. I found myself moving from one tit to the other. I wanted so badly to move under her shirt, but that was her call to make. We had already done far more than I could have ever thought possible and I wasn't about to risk it for lack of patience. Besides, even while I passionately made out and dry-fucked my sister, I still respected her too much to treat her like a common whore or drunken party slut.

But I couldn't get enough of her. Now that she had stretched out a little and was twisted around to kiss me, I had more access to her body and took advantage. While her hips were still twisted so she could grind her ass onto my cock, her torso lay so both shoulders were almost flat on the bed. Her breasts were pointing mostly straight up, giving me more area to cover with my hand. I found myself stroking her breasts, her abdomen, and up and down her thigh, squeezing sometimes and other times stroking. I got a little bold and grazed my fingers up around her butt while I navigated her body. While my left hand was tucked under the pillow, supporting my upper body on my elbow, my right hand was traversing from her knee to her neck, groping randomly along the way, everything from her thigh to her abdomen to her hip and butt to her breast to her throat. I had no pattern because I loved it all. I couldn't get enough of her, or any part of her.

As my hand wandered all over her body, my tongue slid along her tongue and teased her lips. As my hips continued to thrust steadily against her, she rolled toward me, dislodging my cock from her crevice and causing it to rub along her hip. The tip of my member was leaking pre-cum, lubricating the inside of my shorts and probably the outside of them as well. As my sister rolled over onto her back, she held me in place by placing her hand on my hip, pulling me into her. "Keep going," she moaned before turning her face away from my kiss. I was having none of it. Running my hand up behind her ear, I rested my thumb on her jawline, and gently but firmly turned her face back, drawing an excited gasp before her moan was covered by my mouth again. "OOohmmff". Our kiss continued more passionately than before, as if it were possible. 

While my prick continued to leak, Stacy broke our kiss and breathed, "Touch me." I was surprised for a second, visibly confused. She must have seen that because she took my hand and placed it on her mound and repeated, "Touch me, T." Her sex was warm. I could feel the heat radiating through her cotton boxers. She reached for my kiss again, her right hand driving my hip into her and her left hand resting on the hand she had just placed on her own pussy. As if tired of waiting for me to move, my sister pressed my hand downward so that my fingertips were pressing at her labia, her clit up near my palm. She forced my fingers to curl up, pressing the shorts hard against her lips.

She let out an audible gasp and her breath caught in her throat. "Oooooh, right there, Thomas. I love the feel of your hand on me." She looked me in the eye as she moved my hand back up a little so that my fingertips were on her clitoris. Nodding to me, she moved my fingers side to side over her her clitoris, her lubrication having soaked into her shorts.

"You're so hot, Stace. I'm getting close." I had to let her know. I was going to blow in my shorts and I had to tell my sister, who had my hand on her pussy. She let out a low moan and buried her tongue in my mouth again while pulling my hip toward her. She rolled back onto her side again, leaving her right knee raised and placed her foot on the bed behind my leg so that her sex would remain available to my touch.

"Make me cum, brother. Make me cum on your bed again," she whimpered, her hips thrusting against my hand. Her eyes locked on mine as I felt her hand move quickly from my hip, to the space between us. She was looking for permission. I moved my hips back a little and she smiled in a sexy crooked smile as her hand felt along the front of my shorts, quickly finding and grasping my cock. "Oh, damn, T. You're so hard! Are you gonna cum soon? Your shorts are wet like mine are. You gonna cum in your pants from playing with your sister's body?" She began to stroke up and down along the length of my prick and the burning in my stomach was quick. 

She felt it contract and giggled, "Oh, yeah" she moaned with a smile, "There it is." I let out a series of grunts as my semen burned its way up my shaft and through the head, coating my lower belly, the force stopped only by the waistband. Forcefully ejaculating, my seed shot out again and again, slickening the inside of my shorts and leaking through the fabric. Stacy noticed, exclaiming, "Dammit, that's some hot cum on my hand!" 

Immediately she began contracting, her breasts jiggling with each crunch of her abs, her thighs closing around my hand as her orgasm overtook her. I quickly forced my mouth onto hers and she returned the kiss the best she could. Her shorts were soaked, my hand becoming slick and hot with her orgasm.

After a few moments, she relaxed, breathing heavily, and we settled side by side on my bed, both exhausted.

Both of us had our hands covered in the cum of the other. Stacy brought her hand up from between us and wiped my leaking semen on her shorts. I, on the other hand, looked her in the eye while I brought my hand up to my lips. She looked away and smiled, apparently shy at the thought of her brother finding joy in the scent of her arousal. This was not the opportunity to taste her. I hoped that would come later.

There was an odd tension between us. I think it was the fact that we both knew it was mutually enjoyable, but we also both knew that it was somehow inappropriate. I think she felt more ashamed than I did. At least for now. To reassure her, I reached for her hand and held it gently. I looked over at her, her hair tousled, breasts heaving, and I smiled. She smiled back. Letting go of her hand, I brought my arm up and she quickly caught on, moving up to rest her head on my chest, cradled beneath my arm. She draped her arm over my chest to rest in my embrace.

Nothing was said for a few minutes. I was thinking about...well, I was thinking about a lot of things. I figured what she needed most was to feel all right about herself and about what we had done. She needed to know I didn't think ill of her and that this had not diminished anything. She needed to know how I felt after our morning together.

"I love you, Stace."

Silence for a few moments, then her hand came up and wiped at her cheek.

"I love you, too, T."

We lay there for an interminably long time. She idly played with my chest hair and traced the contours of my body, occasionally making me twitch from the mild tickle it caused. I stroked her arm with my right hand while my left stroked her shoulder and back, occasionally going low enough to feel the edge of her waistband. A few minutes after we had climaxed together, she pulled the bedspread back up over our legs and put her left leg over the top of mine, entangling us once again, this time in a loving embrace rather than an act of passion.

I had relaxed again, my eyes closed as I held my sister and enjoyed her touch. My mind was clear for the time being. 

"Thomas?" she asked quietly, as if she was debating as to making any noise at all.

"Mm," I grunted to acknowledge I was here with her and listening.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

She continued to idly stroke my chest and stomach as she asked, "Why didn't you try to undress me? Or at least reach under my clothes?" Stacy sounded unsure about wanting to hear the answer.

"Well, I didn't know you wanted me to."

"But we were making out and...grinding...and stuff. I put your hand on my stomach to feel your touch and let you play with my boobs, and then I put your hand...you know... down there, and I told you to touch me. But you never tried to put your hand under my shirt or in my shorts. I'm just wondering why not." Honestly, she sounded a little upset.

"First off, I don't want you to think I wasn't tempted. God knows I was. It took all my self-control not to! I didn't want to push you to anything you're not ready for. This was an unexpected pleasure for me. Besides, you're my sister and new room mate and I don't want to upset you by being too forward. As if grinding my erection against your butt or jacking off to fantasies of you weren't forward enough," I smiled. That brought a laugh from her as well. She bounced against my side silently and slapped my chest, her traditional "knock it off" sign.




Stacy King and I Ch. 02



"Okay, thanks. That helps," she said as her laughter subsided. Her voice still had that lilt to it that indicated that her previous mood had lightened.

"Now let me ask you something. Are you okay with what we've done?" Please say yes, please say yes!

Without hesitation, she lifted her head up and looked in my eyes with her crooked smile. "Absolutely." She accented it with a quick peck on my lips, staying close when she continued on, "In fact, I don't see why it has to be a one-time thing...Do you?" Her face turned to a nervous furrow she was trying to hide behind a hopeful, yet plastic smile.

Leaning forward to kiss her again, I replied, "Absolutely not." Her doubt faded and her eyes lit up again as she pressed her lips to mine and gave me a momentary, albeit excited kiss of appreciation and unfettered joy. She readily dropped back down to her previous position, now buried much more closely and pulling herself tightly against me. I kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair.

"Can I ask you another question, Stace?" More seriously this time.

"I guess." She had picked up on my tone, it appears.

"You seemed disappointed that I hadn't reach under your clothes. Why is that?"

"I don't know," she answered without conviction. 

"Uh-uh. I've heard that before. Please tell me."

Continuing to lie on me and coiling my chest hair around her finger idly, she began, "Well...I know you think I'm pretty, but I know I'm...fat. And I just..."

"WHOA! Back up. What do you mean you're 'fat'?" I demanded.

"I know people think I have a pretty face and guys like my boobs, but I'm not exactly thin. For all I know, you're a chubby chaser. I know I'm not really sexy. And I know that 20-year-old guys get boners for no reason all the time or would screw anything that has a hole, so the fact that you would find me convenient to get you off is no big surprise. But you've told me what's going on and I trust you, so it's cool."

It wasn't cool. At all. I sat her up so I could get out from under her, and I scooted back against the headboard. She looked like she was about to cry. "I'm sorry. I made you mad. I ruined it."

"You know what? You did make me mad! No one talks about my sister the way you just did!" She was taken aback, visibly shocked. "If you think all you are is a pretty face and set of great tits, you're screwed in the head. You're amazing, Stacy! And I'm not just talking in the sense that you're brilliant and creative and kind, although you ARE all those things. I'm talking specifically about your body right now." She opened her mouth to say something, but I held my hand up in a sign to wait and continued on without pausing.

"Let's run down the list, shall we, starting at the top: your hair. You have a gorgeous mane of chestnut brown hair that frames your perfect face beautifully and reflects the sun with shimmering gold strands woven throughout. I especially like when it is tucked behind one of your perfect ears, like when you used to help me with homework and when we talked last night at dinner. Your eyes are a deep emerald that pierces my heart with every gaze. Your nose is a perfect slope toward your luscious pink lips which serve as a gateway to your glimmering white teeth and amazingly talented pink tongue.

"Your gorgeous head sits atop a perfect neck which makes me ache to kiss it. I can't count the number of times I've wanted to kiss you beneath that ear that serves to hold back your hair. That same pedestal is mounted on a voluptuous frame, soft to my touch and firm to my grasp. I can feel your muscles move beneath it, your ribs and core muscles rippling at my touch. Your breasts, round and firm create a valley for my pleasure and beg for my attention. They often compete to draw attention from your eyes.

"Your arms must have been taken from the statue of Venus. She would be more famous and more admired were your arms still attached. They are smooth and creamy, soft to my touch, yet firm muscle tensing underneath a layer of warmth. When they reach over your head in pleasure or wrap around to hold me, I am trapped by my own ardor for you. The hands which cap them are regal, crowned with beautifully manicured nails, cared for by the woman of my dreams. They are agile, yet strong, gentle and feminine.

"Your waist tapers in beautifully before curving back out at the hips, the hips which dance with every step, making my blood pressure rise. I'm mesmerized by the sway of your hips, the dance of your butt. When you walk past, I can't help but look up to watch you walk away. That perfect, round butt sits on two ivory pillars, flexing and tensing with each step, yet holding a softness that begs to be touched and admired. The curve of your thighs and your calves draw my eye and I can't look away. My goddess makes contact with the earth with her beautiful feet, soft and smooth. The arch gives your foot a graceful elegance, clearly crafted by the Divine. Each toe curls at my touch and begs for more of it. But even more so, my touch begs for your toe and your foot and your leg and your butt and your hip and your waist and your breast and your arm and your hand and your neck and your face and your ear and your hair."

I had been watching each body part as I described it, following her form with my eyes and my heart. I was lost in her beauty and had not looked at her face since moving to her neck in my tribute. When I looked back to her face, I noticed her eyes red and filled with tears, lines of emotion rolling down her cheeks after overflowing those emerald pools. I hadn't realized it until I felt a tear roll down my own cheek, but I had been moved by my own tribute of my sister's form.

"There." My voice cracked so I cleared my throat. "There," I repeated, lifting my chin in confidence and defiance to Stacy's point of view, "Amazing."

I was caught off guard by Stacy's lunge at me. Instinctively my arms wrapped around her back while she was clinging to my neck, sobbing behind my left ear. She was resting on her right hip on my left side, her legs out to her side, curled under her. She clung to me for several minutes, crying. What must have been years of self-rejection came pouring out on my neck and shoulder. She never said a word. She simply cried. I held one arm around her waist and moved the other to stroke her head and hair in consolation, probably mine as much as hers. Who would have done this to her? Who could have said these kinds of things that would make her hurt so bad and see herself as anything less than beautiful?

I held her in silence, stroking her hair, not moving until she was ready to. After a while I felt her relax. She still clung to me for a couple of minutes before I felt her shift and heard that sniffle that tells me she's trying to pull herself together. I reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a box of tissues to sit on top before removing one and patting her arm with it. She took it from me and then sat back a little, her hair hanging like a curtain to hide her as she cleaned up her nose and eyes. I handed her another one and she shook a little with an embarrassed laugh. I simply smiled.

"So, (sniff), why do you have tissues in your nightstand, dear brother?" she asked, her voice smiling.

"So I don't have to go all the way out to the couch to jerk off."

This made her laugh even more and she looked up at me with that gorgeous smile, even though her eyes and nose were still red. She continued to blot under her eyes as if trying to push the stray tears back through the bottom lashes, and the occasional sniffle would disrupt her breathing.

"Thank you, Thomas," she finally said, her face downcast again for a moment before looking at me again. "I needed to hear that. It was beautiful."

"You're beautiful," I told her. "Maybe one day you can tell me how all that shit got in there," I said, gently poking her forehead.

"Maybe." Another sniffle. "But right now I'm spent and I need to clean up. I must look a fright."

"Not at all."

She smiled at that. "I guess I need to grab my stuff and take a shower. Do you want to go first?"

"Or I could keep you company?" 

"Maybe soon. I'm not...ready...for you to see me...like that. Yet."

"I understand. Although," I said as I bounced up off the bed, "you already know how I feel about (waving my hands around awkwardly toward her) all that." I winked at her.

She winked back.

Helping her off the bed, I pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head again.

She tilted her head back and looked up at me, then tapped her lips with her index finger. I leaned down and kissed her for just a moment. But it was enough. She backed up, satisfied and smiled as she turned to gather her stuff from her room to set up the bathroom with her various washes and...whatever girls need all that stuff for.

While she was in the shower, I unmade the couch, throwing the sheets in the hamper and putting the blanket and pillow back in the closet. I checked the weather on the local station which interspersed local news with the national broadcast. Hot and sunny: almost a hundred degrees with 89 percent humidity.

Gee, really? In Georgia?

After a few minutes I heard the shower stop and walked back there to ask her about going out to breakfast. I knocked on the door and after a moment it opened, the heat, steam forced out, mixed with the scent of her shampoo and/or body wash.

"Uh...I..." What had I come back here for? I couldn't remember. Stacy opened the door and was wrapped in one of the dark green oversized bath towels my mother had selected for our bathroom. Her hair was dripping wet and she had just begun to comb it when she opened the door. I knew this because there was a portion with streaks in it while most of her hair was still curly and unkempt. She immediately continued combing it while I stood there.

"Hello? Earth to Thomas."

Not paying attention to her voice, I still tried to remember what I needed. "Yeah, umm...Damn." I took her hand and pulled her from the bathroom into the living room a few feet away. She was surprised, but not resistant.

"AH! What are you doing?!" She stopped when I let go, but then I backed up a few feet and just gazed at her.

"I just needed to see you like this. I mean, that's not why I knocked, but when I saw you in a towel, I wanted to see your body again."

"Thomas," she scolded, "I already told you I'm not ready..."

I waved her off, "No no no. I know that. I'm not talking about that. I just want to see you in your towel."

"What?" She melted.

"You already know how beautiful I think you are. Just let me look at you." I scanned up and down her body. Her arms and shoulders were bare, as were her legs, her skin pink from the hot shower. The towel pressed her breasts together, creating a tight line of cleavage, and the bottom edge of the towel barely covered her butt. "Would you, um, would you turn around for me? Slowly?"

She tilted her head with a crooked smile as if considering my request while also appearing flattered by it. She put her hands on her hips, her right still holding the comb, and turned around, keeping her heels mostly off the ground. "There," she giggled, "Can I go finish getting ready now?"

"Not yet. Would you turn around again and stop with your back to me?" I was getting more nervous with my requests. I felt like an idiot, but here I was, asking anyway.

With a smirk and a huff, she turned around again, stopping as requested. She stuck her arms out to the side, asking the wall, "Like this?"

"Perfect," I muttered. I just sat there admiring her body: her arms and legs, the swell of the towel... "Now drop the towel."

Her head snapped around over her shoulder and she looked at me with an amused gasp, her mouth gaping yet she was not offended. 

"No! Not like that! I'm sorry. I mean, could you unwrap it and drop it down to your waist. I won't see anything but your back. But I want to see it."

She looked up as if she was considering it. After a few seconds she turned back around and tossed the comb on the couch then brought her arms in front of her. I saw the towel loosen and stretch out to either side, her knuckles visible at the bunched corners. She slowly worked it down, revealing more of her perfect back, her waist becoming narrower as the towel lowered. The towel stopped just as her hips began to flair. The towel was shaped by two orbs pressing against it as she held it tightly to her ass to prevent it from sagging lower. 

For a moment she just stood there, mostly naked in my living room, feet from me. Were I in front of her I would have seen her magnificent breasts and her vulva, but today I would settle for this. After a few seconds, she playfully wiggled her hips back and forth, keeping the towel taut, before quickly pulling it back up and laughing as she tucked it into her breast. She quickly grabbed her comb and hustled back into the bathroom before closing the door.

That was great! She was playing with me, but that was great. I was right about her beauty. It's beyond imagination. I'm smitten with my sister.

End Chapter 2



Stacy King and I Ch. 03



As soon as Stacy ran back into the bathroom, I remembered what I was going to ask her. I looked at my watch and noted that it was 10 a.m. Well, the morning was mostly gone and registration started at 1. If history was any indicator, most of the freshmen wouldn't realize that showing up at 1 wasn't going to help. You needed to be ready to register at 1 if you wanted to get the classes you were hoping for. That gave us about two-and-a-half hours to get ready and be at registration.

I walked to the bathroom again, noting that my dried semen was beginning to pull on my pubic hair, which is not at all pleasant. I knocked on the bathroom door, hoping to be heard over the hair dryer on the other side. "Stace?" I called out.

"Forget it," she laughed, "I'm not showing you anything else!"

Smiling at her comment, I called back through the door, "That's too bad, but I only wanted to ask about lunch." The dryer stopped and the door opened. 

"Are you sure that's all you wanted?" she smirked.

"That's not ALL I want," I replied, wriggling my eyebrows. This drew a firm pop on my arm with the back of her brush. "OW!" I complained, rubbing my arm. "Okay, okay! Jeez! I don't know if we should be living together if you're going to beat me up every day."

"Is it too late to find me a room on campus?"

"I hope not. But if it is, you can always sleep in your car."

"What would mom and dad say if they knew you were making me sleep in my car?"

"What would they say if they knew we were sharing my bed?" I smiled.

She smiled back, opened the door enough to approach me, and wrapped her arms around my waist. "I don't think they would approve at all." She looked up into my eyes as she grabbed my butt and ground herself into me. My dick began to stir and she reached up to kiss me. As soon as our tongues touched, I felt a pinch at my groin as the dried cum pulled when I started growing. 

"OH!" I immediately pulled back, grabbing at my crotch. Stacy was surprised and a little offended, then began to laugh.

"Already? But I haven't even touched you yet," she teased.

This drew a laugh. I was awkwardly laughing, hurting, and trying to explain all at the same time. Soon enough the hairs were either ripped out or the cum-glue broke because the pain stopped. "Ow," I was mock crying, "My cum dried and it was pulling my hairs when I started getting wood again." This caused her to bust out laughing, her towel dancing as her breasts moved behind it.

"Ohhhh, I'm so sorry," she tried to comfort me while stifling a laugh. "Do you want me to help you clean it off?"

"Yes. 'But I'm not ready for you to see me like this'," I teased, throwing her own line back at her, smiling. She smiled back, knowing I was teasing and not upset. I pulled her to me and gave her a kiss. "But I do need to clean up. I'll take my shower when you're finished up. It won't take me long."

"Okay, it's yours in a few minutes." She turned to walk back into the bathroom.

"Wait!" I said. "I keep wanting to ask about lunch. It's getting late, but we have plenty of time. What do you think about getting brunch and talking about your class choices and then trying to get to the school around 12:30?"

"But registration isn't until 1."

"That's when it starts, but if you're there early and ready to go, you can be in at 1 and out by 1:15. A lot of people will be showing up at 1 and after, and you'll be losing classes. If we're there early and out early, we have the rest of the day to ourselves. I was thinking about taking you out tonight." I was excited at the prospect.

"Really? You want to go out again?" she sounded pleasantly surprised.

"Of course. Like I said before, I love you. Now finish up so I can get ready." She just stood at the door looking at me and a subtle smile crept up. I just waved her into the bathroom and she turned to walk back in. I went into my room to get my clothes out.

Soon enough, Stacy was out and ready to go and within a few minutes, I walked out of my room. Stacy was wearing her standard jeans and t-shirt, her hair back in a pony tail again, the cartoon character on her shirt apparently a vague cultural reference I didn't understand. She had just come out of her room with a basket to hang in the shower, reached in and set it on the bathroom counter, but grabbed my arm as I passed, stopping my progress to the living room.

"Wait," she said. "Can I get a kiss?"

"Anytime." I leaned down and kissed her full on the lips, my stomach flipping as I did so. My hand reached around her back and I couldn't stop myself. I ran it down over he denim-clad ass and pulled her tight against me. She breathed out a little at that. My tin soldier woke up. Our tongues began to dance before she pulled her head back, looked me in the eye and tilted her chin up with that crooked smile.

It didn't take me long to know what she wanted. I kissed her right beneath her right ear, fulfilling one of my desires I had shared just this morning in my tribute. It was everything I had hoped. Her skin was soft and smooth and warm and her perfume was the one I had chosen for her before she left for England. It was a soft scent, not flowery or sugary and not strong or one that assaults the nose. It was truly a pleasure to inhale, and enhanced my experience all the more.

She shuddered when I opened my mouth and my tongue licked her neck. Using only my lips, I pulled on her earlobe and heard her mutter, "Oh, God, that's good. Wow." I continued to manipulate her neck and ear for a few more seconds, ending with a flourish by tracing the outside of her ear all the way up with my tongue before backing away and planting one more kiss on her lips.

"We should get going," I whispered. Her eyes had remained closed and her head tilted until she heard my voice, at which point she slowly opened her eyes, looking sleepy, and righted her head again. She reached for my hand and kissed the palm, then entangled her fingers in mine and escorted me to the front door.

Having brought her registration packet and pencil with us, she looked at it on the way to lunch. I had asked her about a brunch buffet that one of the local steakhouses offers and she said that was fine with her. By the time we arrived she had already checked some of the classes she wanted to consider. We paid at the front register, found a four-top and sat side by side, rather than across, under the pretense of being able to work on her schedule together. I think we both knew that being on opposite sides of the table put too much distance between us. Between trips to the buffet and interruptions by our server to refill our tea, we discussed her schedule.

"As for me," I continued, "I like having my classes early in the day so I can be out as soon as possible. If I sleep in because my classes don't start until 11, then I won't get out till 3 or 4. That's a lost day as far as I'm concerned. If I start with 8 o'clock classes, I can still get four classes in and be out by lunch. Then on Tuesday and Thursday, I can have one or two classes in the morning and be out by late morning. See what I mean?"

"Yeah. That sounds good," she answered, "but what if your class isn't offered during those times?"

"That happens with more frequency as the classes become more specialized, but I still do my best to get earlier classes. If I can have a full day off or two each week, though, I'll cram for long hours on the days I do have class, So I may be in class from 8-4 with maybe an hour break in there, and then have two days off each week. That's a bonus all its own."

"What's your class schedule like this semester?" she asked.

"Well, I couldn't get anything until 9 on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and then have an 11 and 1 o'clock class. On Tuesday nights I have a 3-hour class from 6:30-9:30. And I have a 3-hour class that I'm taking online, so there are no on-campus meetings for that one. So, you see, it doesn't always work out the way I'd like, but I've taken all my core classes and now I'm into more specialized courses which offer limited sections. But you have a ton of courses to choose from, no prerequisites to meet, and lots of freedom as a result. So set it up however you want. We'll create an A schedule, B schedule and C schedule, based on your needs, preferences, and availability. If A doesn't work out, we'll try B and so on. Does that make sense?"

"Okay. We can do that."

"Cool. Okay, so..."

"I want my schedule to match yours." That kind of surprised me.

"You want your schedule to match mine?"

"Don't think I'm creepy or stalking my own brother or anything," she laughed. "I look at it this way. We live off campus together and if we have similar schedules, we can ride in together, go our separate way for classes and meet up to ride home. When we're home we're planning meals and stuff around both being there instead of eating alone or buying separate groceries or having to reheat and stuff. Besides," she smiled, "that apartment is ours. Together. I want us to be able to enjoy it together. And we don't know about work schedules yet, either, so I know that may throw a wrench into it, but..."she shrugged.

"If you're sure that's what you want," I smiled. I didn't want to affect her decision one way or the other. I have to say, however that I was excited about the prospect. Yesterday maybe I wouldn't have been, but today I see things differently. I understand more why she would want to do this, and it had nothing to do with carpooling and groceries.

She tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked down to start working on her schedule. After a couple minutes of watching her, I leaned in, placed my hand on her leg and started offering suggestions and answering questions. Soon she had her hand on mine, only moving it when she had to write something down or turn a page.

We stayed at the restaurant until about 12:15, having enjoyed a leisurely meal together and making a solid plan for fall semester. As planned, we were back on campus and standing at the door at 12:30. A few had come before us and several more straggled up before the doors opened at 1. When the student government officer propped the door open and waved us in, we walked over to one of the student ID tables where they scanned the bar code on her folder and asked for her name and birthdate to confirm. She stood in front of a plain wall and had her picture taken for her student ID and within a couple of minutes, her student ID came out of a small card printer hooked up to a computer. The student assistant working at the computer scanned the bar code on the card and the computer attributed her card number to her bio. In a quick rehearsed few sentences, the student explained that she needed to keep the card with her at all times. It was her ID, meal pass, library card, and event admission, and if she lost it, there would be a $25 fee to replace it. 

We made our way over to the registration table, ID in hand, under the I-L sign.

"Hi. Do you have your ID?" Stacy handed her the new ID card. "Name?"

"Stacy King."

"Last four of social?"

"8611."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Do you have a schedule worksheet?"

"Yes, ma'am," handing her the paper with A, B, and C schedules on it. 

The woman wore her glasses low on her nose so she could both read the work sheet and the computer screen, switching back and forth to check for availability for each course as she entered the course number. After little more than a minute, she smiled at Stacy as the printer behind the table whirred to life. "Okay, you're all set." Grabbing a sheet of paper from the printer, she turned back toward us and handed the sheet to my sister. "Take this sheet to the bookstore and you will be able to get the books you need for your courses. The bookshelves are labeled by course number. If you need to get a parking pass, you'll need to visit the campus security table," pointing to the table at the far end of the gym. "Any questions?"

"No, ma'am. I don't think so."

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call or stop by. You can also contact us by e-mail or schedule an appointment through the website. Drop/Add ends two weeks from the start of class on Monday. We're glad you're here."

"Thank you. I am, too." She turned and winked at me, then waved to the woman behind the table. As we walked away, she jumped a little, clapping repeatedly, like the little girl I used to see, "I'm so excited! I'm a college student now! Yay!"

I put my arm around her, "Yes, you are. I'm proud of you. I think you're going to do very well here."

Hugging me back with both arms around my waist as we walked, she said, "Me, too."

She had her ID scanned at the campus security table and wrote a check for a parking sticker and was instructed to attach it to the bottom driver's side of her rear window and that she was not allowed to back into the parking spaces. She was given a map of the campus and the non-residential parking lots were highlighted as we watched. The younger officer handed her a clear plastic bag that had fliers about campus safety, regulations, rape avoidance, reporting a crime, and all sorts of other information, most of it common sense, and told her he hoped she enjoyed it here.

As we exited the gym, Stacy pulled her iPhone out of her pocket, said, "Uh-huh. You said we could be out in fifteen minutes." Showing me the phone it said, 1:22. She raised an accusatory eyebrow and said, "Now my whole day is off."

"There was a crowd," I defended.

"You always have an excuse." She bumped me playfully, putting her phone back in her pocket.

"While we're here, do you want to go get your books or wait?"

"I don't know. It would be nice to have them and not have to mess with it later, but I've heard you may not need them and I hate to blow money."

"That makes sense, although in my experience at this school, all my professors have used the books. Even if you don't refer to them in class, you can still be quizzed on the information. Besides, you can return them for full credit during Drop/Add if they still look new. And they do have used books there, too, so you can sell them back at the end of the semester."

"Okay," she said, let's go ahead and get them."

We walked into the campus bookstore which was a combination textbook store and school spirit gift shop. The school name, logo, and mascot were all over the place on everything from travel mugs to throw blankets. With a little assistance from one of the students working there, I had an armload of freshman basics textbooks. Stacy spent the time answering questions from the girl about where she was from and how she liked it here so far. I never even came up in the conversation. "Oh, him? He's just my pack mule," I could imagine Stacy telling the young clerk. Scanning her card and each book, she waited while Stacy swiped and signed the credit card reader and bagged the books. Again, the school logo.

"And that's that, little sister. You're ready for Monday. Let's enjoy the weekend, what do you say?"

"Mmmm, sounds good to me. Any big plans?" she asked in an intentionally seductive tone.

"I don't know; we'll see." Another slap to the arm.

"OW!" I laughed, "I said we'll see." She laughed and grabbed my hand again, locking our fingers together as we walked to the car.

When we got back to the truck, I opened the door to let Stacy in and when she got one foot up on the runner she looked at me over her shoulder and said, "Lend me a hand?" I held my hand out for her, but she just smiled and shook her head no, then wiggled her butt, the denim taunting me. I put my hands on her ass, my thumbs nearly touching her center seam. When she was standing almost fully, she paused, giving me a chance to play for a moment before turning around and settling into the seat. "Thank you," she said meekly before looking out the windshield, almost ignoring me.

When I settled into the driver's side, I put the key in the ignition and she said, "So, we have some time to kill. Is there anywhere you'd like to go?" I looked at her for just a second before grabbing the back of her head and pulling her to meet me in the middle of the cab. I forced my tongue into her mouth, which she greedily accepted. With one hand on the back of her head, my other hand went straight to her breast, kneading it and causing her to moan into my mouth. 

Instantly I felt her hand land near my crotch, eagerly searching out my penis. She quickly found it and rubbed her palm along the quickly stiffening shaft. "Oh, God," I breathed, pulling back a little bit.

"Let's go home," she breathed.

No one needed to tell me twice. I was back in my own seat shifting gears and rolling out the main gate of the campus. I had to touch her, so I put my hand on her thigh, sliding it up until my pinky was up near her pussy. I squeezed hard. She moaned and grabbed me, her fingers clawing my forearm. We continued to grope each other on the short drive back through the small town to our apartment. Not waiting for me to come around, Stacy met me at the back of the truck and practically pulled me up the stairs. Fortunately the lock turned easily. I didn't have the patience or dexterity to try and work a bent key into a cheap lock, and I would have hated to have to answer the security company's questions about breaking into my own apartment with the key in my pocket by saying, "But my sister was really horny."

The door slammed shut as I was back in her arms, pushing her backward toward the bedroom. She grabbed my shirt and took a hard right, backing up until she fell over the arm of the couch. I almost landed on top of her, but I was able to catch myself by placing my hand behind her head. We wrestled with a passion and a fervor I'd never experienced. Her legs wrapped around my thighs and she ground her hips up onto my erection, dry fucking me through two layers of denim. Her hand was frantic in my hair, her other pulling my butt down to her, encouraging me to thrust and slide along her mound.

My hands were all over her breasts, mauling them as I kissed her mouth and down her neck. I risked it and moved down to gently bite her breast through her t-shirt. "Oh, shit, T! That feels fantastic! Use them! They're all yours," she moaned as she continued to thrust her hips against my stomach, my cock now out of reach. But it wasn't too far for her hand. With one hand she stroked and grabbed at my head as I enjoyed her breasts. With her other hand, she reached down and found my erection again, stroking it through my jeans. I didn't object when she fumbled with the button on my jeans and as she lowered the zipper. Her hand felt amazing stroking over the smooth material of my boxer briefs, now the only thing separating skin from skin. I know she could feel the pre-cum soaking through the crotch of my underwear. 

She continued to moan, now peppered with comments about my excitement. "God, you're hard, Thomas. Did I do that to you? Did I make you hard?"

"You know you did, Stace! It's all for you: the erection, the dripping pre-cum...my orgasm." With that last statement, she pulled me down for another attack on my lips, her hand leaving my pants. She tried to scramble out from underneath me, but I was too heavy.

"Get up, T!" she pressed on my chest as she clambered free. She quickly sat up onto her knees and reached for the hem of my shirt, quickly pulling it off over my head and throwing it to the side. She again reached for my cock, her hand stroking it inside my jeans, but over the underwear. She didn't look at me when she untucked her own t-shirt. She just closed her eyes and lifted her hands up over her head, nodding, saying, "Do it!"

I quickly pulled the shirt over her head and as soon as her head was free, she lowered her arms, pulling them out through the sleeves and pulling me back against her chest again. She kept her eyes closed and drove her tongue back into my mouth, never losing her sense of urgency. This was different now. She had seen my chest, but now my bare chest was pressed against her bra. I only saw the colors: dark pink and black. She had pulled me back too quickly. I ran my hands up along her sides and back, touching her bare skin for the first time. Once again, her hand found my erection and she resumed squeezing and stroking me through my underwear. The feeling was incredible. I was covered with sensation: Her mouth, her hand on my skin, my skin on her skin, the brief visual of her bra holding her breasts, her hand on my cock. It wouldn't take me long to cum.




Stacy King and I Ch. 03



I wanted to feel her cum again. I ran my hand along her side, down to the waistband of her jeans and traced it around front. As soon as I got to the button of her jeans, her hand whipped back from my underwear and latched onto my hand as she shook her head frantically. "Not that. No. Not ready for that." Her forehead was touching mine, but she wouldn't look me in the eye. She was breathing heavily and only pulled away from our kiss long enough to shake her head and tell me no, then latched her mouth back onto mine. 

She let go of my hand and rested it back on my shaft. As soon as she let go, I again tried to unfasten her button. Again her hand attached to mine, and this time she pulled her face away and with her other hand held my chin and brought my gaze to hers. "Thomas, no. Please. Not there. I'm not ready for that yet." Her eyes were pleading, not angry. She nodded as if asking for agreement. I nodded absently, my gaze never leaving hers. She smiled and moved my hand from her pants to her right breast. "Here."

She moved my hand to her left breast. "And here."

I understood. She wasn't rejecting me. She wasn't keeping me from what I wanted. She was giving herself to me in pieces, like a progressive gift. This morning she called herself fat. Then at my request she showed me her naked back. And now she took off her shirt to show me herself more fully than she already had: her breasts only in a bra. She trusted me enough to let me in; I needed to respect that.

I nodded again and kissed the palm of her hand. She ran it along my cheek. I held her hand and said, "Not there." She paused as if confused or even upset. I placed her hand on my chest, centered over my heart, while looking her in the eye. "Here." I nodded. She smiled and nodded back, looking away for just a second, bringing her hand to her face to wipe a tear from her cheek.

I moved her hand from my chest, down to my faded erection. "And here," I nodded with a wry smile. She let out a little laugh and quickly nodded, moving her hand again. Pressing her lips to mine, she again caused me to stiffen and she obviously took that as a good sign. Her kiss again became more passionate. I placed both of my hands on her face before moving them down the sides of her neck to her shoulders, my thumbs resting on her bra straps.

They were smooth like satin. My thumbs traced down the straps and over the sides before my hands cupped her breasts, captured in her bra. Since I was still kissing my sister I couldn't look down. But I felt lace trim on most of the cup around the top edge and around the back strap. The cups were primarily of the satiny material that the straps were made of. Again my hands worked back to the front and cupped her breasts, this time squeezing hard.

Stacy moaned into my mouth and her kiss became even more frantic. She quickly kissed my cheek and put her mouth to my ear, breathing, "Squeeze me, brother. Squeeze my tits while I stroke your hard cock." I don't know if she felt my penis swell or jump with that statement, but she giggled at my response. "Oh, you like that, do ya? Is it the way I talk to you, or is it the thought of playing with your sister's tits without a shirt?"

"It's both...Everything...the kissing, touching, your words. God, you're magnificent!" 

Her face was still next to mine with her mouth by my ear. "Pinch my nipple, T. Feel how hard I am for you." With that, I quickly found the nub under one cup, the thumb and forefinger of my right hand pinching her left nipple, eliciting a gasp and a bit of a scream from her. I repeated it with her right nipple, receiving a similar response. I then brought both hands up and cupped both breasts, pressing them together while finding Stacy's mouth with my own, attacking her with my tongue again. She responded in kind and while we kissed passionately, my sister rubbing my erection through my underwear. As we kissed and I groped her breasts, she became more frantic in playing with my member. I quickly found her nipples again and pinched them both at the same time through her pink and black bra, forcing her to squeal and break the kiss to find a breath.

Her mouth was open wide, her eyes closed tight, her brow furrowed, as if in a silent scream. Her pelvis thrust blindly and spasmodically as her abs contracted. Suddenly she exhaled a short squeal, then another, then a longer exhaling breath, mixed with a moan of absolute pleasure. Everything stopped and her head dropped onto my shoulder as she fought to catch her breath. After a few seconds, her hand began moving again inside my zipper. I was still as hard as ever, and was continuing to leak. Watching her breasts jiggle as she convulsed was incredibly arousing and is a visual that rests like the cover page to my memory bank.

"Oh, shit, T," she breathed, her head still on my shoulder. "I've never cum by having just my nipples played with. Whew!"

"Note to self," I said out loud.

She laughed a little at that and then asked, "Can I touch it?" while she stroked me.

"Touch what?" I asked, still not shifting gears.

She simply squeezed my erection before continuing to stroke it through my underwear.

"Oh! Uhh..."

"I want to touch it. I want to feel your juices lubricate my hand as I stroke you, making you cum.... And I want to feel your cum on me."

My hips convulsed at that moment, prompted by just the thought of it. I gazed into her eyes and kissed her hard. She backed away and looked me in the eyes as she reclined on the couch. She put her hands on either side of her bra and pressed her breasts up and together, making her cleavage deep and long. She used her forefingers and thumbs to find and pinch both nipples simultaneously, causing her to close her eyes and bite her bottom lip as her hips raised slightly.

I was mesmerized and knelt there watching. My untouched penis pulsed at the sight, I'm sure sending another stream of lubricant dribbling out of the eye and down over my head and shaft. My sister pressed her legs together and beckoned me forward with a crooked finger and a smile. As I began to move, she patted the front of her jeans, which I took as an invitation to climb up toward her waist. I straddled her hips, thankful that I always wore relaxed-fit jeans.

Her hand slid up my boxer-briefs, never losing contact as I felt more of her hand on my stomach. Her eyes never left mine as her fingertips brushed over the waistband of my underwear and made contact with the skin below my navel. This felt very intimate to me. No one had ever touched me here. I briefly felt her nails as her fingers curled under just a little to guarantee that they could get under the waistband before moving slightly forward, pressing under the elastic that hid my most masculine feature.

Freezing there for just a second, her arm at an awkward angle, Stace pulled against my right shoulder, inviting me to lean forward. I put my hand beside her head, resting on it, making me prop myself up over my gorgeous sister, her breasts spilling out the top of her bra. She worked her fingers in further, licking her lips, causing me to lean down and kiss her as she approached the leaking head of my granite pillar. She kissed me passionately as she rotated her hand around so that her knuckles were against my abdomen while her fingers wrapped around my cock. We moaned into each others' mouths as she grabbed my erection and smeared the still-leaking juices around the shaft and head.

I flinched when her hand brushed across the bottom of the frenulum, that v-shaped seam beneath the ridge of the helmet. She giggled a little. Without removing her lips from mine, she asked, "You like that, did you?"

Still connected, "You have no idea. I won't last long at all."

"Good. I want to make you cum. I want to feel it on me." Her hand immediately began moving faster, twisting on every up stroke, the heel of her hand rubbing the underside of the head, her pinky bumping over the ridge on every stroke. Her hand was moving quickly thanks to the lubricant my own dick provided, which had soaked my belly and the front of my underwear. The movement of her right arm caused her right breast to rise and shake on each stroke, which naturally her left breast followed, though to a lesser degree. Her cleavage changed in rhythm to each stroke of her arm. Her heart pendant had settled at her throat, the chain slack around her neck. The heart lay crooked in the v where her throat meets her sternum. I could see my sister's breathing quicken as her throat contracted, making the v in her throat deeper, then shallower, deep, shallow, deep, shallow.

I made the mistake of looking into her eyes. "Oh, God!" I grunted. The first shot erupted through the gap in my shorts, shooting with a force that splattered squarely on the bottom curve of the cup of her bra. As soon as I indicated the approach of my orgasm, Stacy looked down to watch the explosion of my orgasm firing at her. "Oh!" she exclaimed, surprised at the force or maybe the volume. The next blast was apparently aimed higher because it hit her in the chin and throat, some of it deflecting off to the side, across her bra strap and shoulder. "Oh, fuck," she muttered, still rapidly stroking and looking down. I scrambled up a little so that I could try to land some on her tits and stomach. The next couple of shots were forced out, coating her cleavage, then a few barely spurted and dribbled, landing almost directly below my navel, with one or two remaining in my underwear.

Stacy pulled her hand out and looked at it, turning it over to note the cum that was running down her wrist and palm and held her hand as if not wanting to touch anything while she looked down at the semen streaking her cleavage and abdomen. She looked back up at me with a smile, and said, "Somebody made a mess. Do I look all right to go out?" I was mesmerized by the sexiness of the sight before me. Her green eyes sparkling, mouth in a wide smile, neck and tits covered in cum, darkening the pink satin of her bra and showing up in stark contrast to the black lace. I even noticed that some of the cum had landed in the hollow of her neck, coating her pendant and even filling the space in the heart like a little pool.

I just shook my head and laughed, continuing to breathe heavily as I tried to recover. "That," I panted, "was the best orgasm of my life. And may I add, you look amazing covered in my cum."

"I feel amazing covered in your cum."

I backed off her stomach so I could lean down for a kiss. She didn't touch me with her hand, still wet with my climax, but she returned the kiss. "Um, T. I need to get up and wash off. It's starting to get cold."

"Oh, yeah," I said, clambering off the couch. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she laughed. "I'm not complaining."

I watched as she walked into the bathroom, keeping her head down to make sure nothing ran onto her jeans, and keeping her hand out to the side, palm up and fingers splayed. In just a moment I heard the water turn on and she yelled out, "Heeey!" 

It startled me, like I had pissed her off, and she came back out of the bathroom with a scowl on her face. Pointing to her necklace she said, "You came in my heart." She busted out laughing and I laughed in response, appreciating the reference. Still smiling, she turned back around and walked back into the bathroom.

I walked toward the bathroom and said, "Well, I also came in my pants. I need to change my underwear." 

I turned to walk toward the bedroom when she yelled out, "No! Don't."

"What?"

"Come here."

I walked into the bathroom and she was wiping a washcloth in a single stroke from her navel to the band of her bra. She curled her wrist so that the leading edge of the cloth broke contact first, as if trying to pull the semen toward the center of the cloth. She leaned over the counter and rinsed out the cloth. Her breasts were still spilling over the top of her bra and they jiggled as she rinsed out the cloth, unfolding it and refolding it as she continued to run it under the water, steam rising from the sink.

Turning to me, she asked quietly, "Would you clean up higher? I can't see up there." I knew she was lying because there was a giant mirror over the vanity and sink. I knew she was still playing with me, but I didn't mind. I gently took the cloth from her hand as I looked into her eyes. Soon enough my gaze shifted and taking hold of the chain, I lifted it away from her throat, the heart rising through the thickening puddle of cream and pinched it in the dark green cloth. Using my thumb and two fingers to pinch it, I polished it and tried to make sure I got it all. I used the corner of the cloth to run it up through the middle in an effort to get everything. 

Stacy lifted her chin a little bit, her eyes looking at the ceiling as I gently ran the cloth from the middle of her throat, down the hollow, and pulled it out before resting the pendant back on her upper chest. After rinsing it out, I ran the cloth from low in her cleavage up toward her throat again to get the rest of the dribbling semen. I wiped down her bra strap and the bottom of her right cup as they were now stained dark pink from the wet blasts they had received. Confident I got it all, I handed her the cloth while looking in her eyes and whispered, "All clean."

"Thanks," she whispered back, placing a hand on my chest and leaning in to give me a gentle, loving kiss on the lips. Holding there for just a moment, she backed up and while still close to my mouth, looked me in the eye and whispered, "Not ALL clean." She backed up and glanced at my crotch before looking me in the eye again.

"Yeah, I'll go..."

"No." She turned to the sink. "Let me." She rinsed/heated the cloth and turned to me. Kneeling down, she set the cloth on the carpet and looked up at me before placing her hands on either side of the waistband of my jeans. As if waiting for me to stop her, she gently pulled on the waist, but had to reach around to pull the back down to my butt so she could come back to the sides and bring them the rest of the way to my knees.

Here I was, standing in my boxer briefs with my jeans around my knees and my sister at eye level with my penis. She focused on my underwear. She ran her hands around the waist, gently feeling the material and the contrast of it against my skin. Her touch was electric and my body began to respond. She didn't say anything, but just felt around. She ran her hands, palms flat, along my thighs, hips, rear, and on both sides of my growing erection. She picked up the cloth and curled the waistband down in the center front, to clean the semen that had leaked. She wiped in a small stripe along the edge for a couple of inches, then put the cloth back on the carpet by her knee.

Without even looking up, she curled her fingers into the sides of my waistband and began pulling down slowly, like she was waiting for me to stop her. I debated, but then held my breath and hoped she would be pleased. She continued to pull them down and the waistband rolled over itself while the snug fitting microfiber material hugged my thighs. Eventually she pulled them down enough that they broke free from me semi-hard penis and over the curve of my butt. She then had no trouble pulling them down to rest on my jeans.

Still not saying anything, she looked up with a smile and reached for my shaft with one hand and the cloth with the other. The hand that held my shaft was gentle, only touching me with fingertips. The cooling cloth touched the top of my patch of reddish-brown pubic hair and she ran it downward slowly, toward the base of my still-growing erection.

Because she hadn't said anything, I thought she may be disappointed in me.

"Stacy," I said quietly, debating to break the silence.

Without breaking her gaze or working to clean the drying lubricant from my groin, she quietly responded, "Yes?"

"I...uh...I'm sorry I'm not...um...better."

She looked at me confused, stopping her work. "What do you mean?

"I mean, uh, you know, bigger. I'm sorry I'm not bigger." 

Looking back at my penis, she quietly said, "It's beautiful." She went back to work, gently caring for my penis. As she felt the cloth getting cooler, she raised up on her knees and turned to run the cloth under hot water again. Without looking at me she asked, "What makes you think you should be bigger?" then she settled back down onto her heels and continued to gently wipe off the entire area, being careful not to miss anything.

"Lots of things, I guess. I've seen other guys in locker rooms, I've seen the occasional porn clip (she made a face and glared at me from beneath her eyebrows for a second at this one), and I know about those enhancement ads."

"How big do you want to be?" She continued cleaning me, moving my penis up and down and one side to the other to get to the areas she needed to clean.

"I don't know. Another inch, two inches?"

"Have you had any complaints?"

"Well, no."

"Then why do you want to change it?"

"Well, ahem, I, uh...I've never been with anyone." I was kind of embarrassed to admit this.

"That's not true."

"Yes it is!"

"No. Yesterday that was true. Today it isn't." She continued to clean.

"Good point. But still..."

"'But', nothing," she said, letting go of my penis and continuing to talk as she stood up and leaned against the sink, resting with her palms and butt on the edge. "Just this morning you got mad at me for saying I was fat. You were upset because of how I was talking about myself in a negative way. Now here you are saying that your penis is too small. How do you think it makes ME feel to hear someone talking about my brother that way?"

"I didn't..."

"You didn't think it was the same thing. Is that what you were going to say?" She folded her arms, pressing her breasts together and up, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah. I guess it is."

She turned to face me and placed her hand on my upper arm. "Thomas, I've never been with anyone, either. If you're worried about comparisons, don't be. And from what my friends have told me, penis size matters a whole lot less to them than it does to men. They are enamored with the man they love and their sexual chemistry determines a lot about their pleasure." She held up her finger. "This. This is what I can use to bring myself off."

"This," she said, stroking my dick, "I know would fill the job description much better." She smiled at me. I started to get hard in her hand. "I've been very happy drawing close to you. I love you. And I love what I've discovered about your body. So if I'm the only one you've had experience with, and I'm pleased, then it sounds to me like you're batting a thousand. Don't you agree?" She winked at me and gave me another squeeze.

I smiled an embarrassed smile and looked down. She picked my chin up with her finger. "T," she said quietly, "It's not about what's here," she said, squeezing my erection. Placing her other hand on my chest, she continued, "It's about what's here. And this is pretty wonderful." I blushed and looked away. She gave me another quick squeeze and said, "and so is this," before laughing a little to break the tension.

"Thanks, Stace. I just get a little insecure sometimes, you know?"

"I know. I do, too. We'll just have to be here for each other. And as we continue to spend time together and see more of each other and explore further in our relationship, we'll grow more secure I think. Don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. I hope so. I've always been lucky to have a sister like you. Now I feel even more that way. I really do love you, Stace."

"I love you, too, T." She hugged me tight, her breasts pressing against me and my erection pressed into her, half on her jeans and half touching her bare belly. She reached down and gave me another squeeze and a few strokes while slipping her tongue into my mouth. We made out as she continued to gently masturbate me. I reached up with my left hand and grabbed her right tit, squeezing it while my right hand reached around and held her ass. She moaned into my mouth. I decided to take a chance and brought my hand up over her waistband, never losing contact, and slid it down into her jeans, over her underwear to squeeze her ass.




Stacy King and I Ch. 03



"Whoa," she broke away and looked me in the eye with a smile, but didn't move my hand away, "someone's getting fresh. And it feels like you're getting worked up again."

"I can't help it," I argued. "You know you're hot." 

She responded with a playful kiss. "Be that as it may," she let go of my erection and pulled my hand out of her shorts before backing away, causing my hand to fall away from her bra, "we have some plans for this afternoon and evening. I promise if you can wait, I'll make it worth your while." 

Walking out of the bathroom, she gathered both of our t-shirts, tossed mine to me and put hers on. "You can't go out like that, she said, pointing down. Most places require pants."

"Okay, let me go change my underwear," I replied.

"No. I cleaned you up enough that you should be okay. Besides, if I have to sit in my own cum, you should have to, too." With that she winked at me. I hadn't even thought about the fact that she hasn't changed either. Her panties must be soaked.

She walked back into the bathroom to check her hair and, reapplying her lipstick, asked if I was ready to go. I pulled up my pants as she watched, leaning on the sink, and I nodded my head like an idiot.

"Good. Let's go have some fun." With that, she walked past me, an extra wiggle in her hips. I couldn't help but reach down and slap it. "OH!" she squealed, jumping at the shot, and turning to look at me, laughing and rubbing her right cheek, tried to soothe the sting. She smiled that crooked smile and wagged her finger at me before taking a few steps to the couch and placing her hands on the arm rest, arching her back and sticking her hips out, shaking them at me.

"You missed a spot," she said. I approached her, waiting for her to stand up and say, "Are you kidding? I'm not giving you a free shot!" Instead she just stood there, ass out, facing forward. She wasn't even looking back to see if I was coming. I walked over to her, raised my arm back and held it, waiting for her hand to come back and cover her ass. 

She never moved. I let my hand fly and my palm stung when I made contact with the denim covering her left cheek. THWACK! She flinched, but didn't grunt or complain. Standing up, she rubbed her butt and turned to me with an innocent smile. "There," she said, "Now I'm balanced out. Thank you." Without another word, she walked toward the front door, grabbed her phone and purse off the ottoman, turned the knob and walked out into the breezeway.

I don't know if I was stunned or just stupid, but I was expecting her to come get me. I guess I just snapped out of it because I quickly followed her, pulling the locked door closed. She was at the bottom of the stairs by the time I caught up with her. She continued to work those hips as we walked to the truck. She stood outside the passenger door waiting for me. I opened the door for her and when she stepped onto the runner, I reached for her ass again.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

I froze, panicked. "I, uh, I was just...uh...helping you in?"

"I don't think so." She dropped into the seat and looked out the front window, ignoring me.

Shit. I've pissed her off. I crossed a line. I closed her door and my stomach was in knots as I walked around the back of the truck. A million thoughts raced through my mind as I tried to figure out how to get out of this. I opened the driver's side door and climbed inside. With my stomach tense, I turned to Stacy to apologize.

"Stace..." I looked up.

"Yes?" Her eyebrows were raised and she was smiling. She broke into a fit of laughter.

"You bitch!" I said, laughing myself. 

Her jaw dropped as she had a look of amused shock. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

"Yes, I did!"

"Come here!" she said, grabbing my shirt. She planted a kiss on me, then with our lips still touching, said, "I love you," then backed up and stroked my cheek. She started laughing a little and shook her head.

I smiled at her and started the truck before backing out of the space and heading out for the evening. We lived pretty close to two state lines. One mid-sized city almost straddled the state line, with some of the outlying neighborhoods being in our state. In the other direction was another mid-size city, this one with a major university and businesses that catered to the college crowd. We decided to visit the university town since I acknowledge that it was more likely to have a more relaxed atmosphere and more variety to our tastes. It would take us about an hour-and-a-half to get there.

As we traveled the back road to the interstate, I rested my hand on the armrest between us and Stacy automatically placed her hand on top, her thumb idly grazing back and forth over the back of my hand as we rode and talked. I enjoyed our ride together, but figured I would use this time to address a serious issue.

"I was thinking."

"Uh oh. That's never good," she replied, deadpan.

"I know, but I'm getting better at it. Sometimes it actually produces an idea."

"Oooh, you ARE making progress." She smiled and winked, giving my hand a squeeze. "So, you've been thinking..."

"Since you haven't unpacked your things yet and your bed is still unmade, how do you feel about staying in my room? With me."

"Funny you should ask. I didn't want to impose, but..."

"Well, I wouldn't say it's not an imposition, but being the gentleman, I'm willing to make the sacrifice." I glanced at her sideways before returning my eyes to the winding side road that would lead us to the interstate.

"Gentleman, huh? Would this be the same gentlemanly behavior that makes you hit women at random?"

"Why, yes. Yes it would."

"And why would I want to share my bed with you?"

"Why WOULDN'T you want to share your bed with me? I'm an Adonis!"

That got a laugh, maybe even a little too exaggerated. She was mocking me now.

"Okay," I laughed. "Maybe not an Adonis."

"Yeah, maybe not. I was thinking maybe Larry the Cable Guy or Ernest."

"Hey! Easy..." Another laugh, causing her breasts to move invitingly. Not that I was looking. She IS my sister, after all. And that would be inappropriate.

"I would love to share your bed! I really have been thinking about it, but honestly I didn't want to push myself into your space. I do have my own room, so I didn't want to do that to you."

"Well, since you got here, you've spent EVERY night in my bed. It's getting old."

"Every night. I guess technically...since I only got here yesterday." Another wink. "But I still think we should make up my bed and unpack my stuff in there. Since the apartment is pretty small, this would give me my own closet and changing room. And if we ever had visitors, it would look suspicious if my room looked untouched and all my stuff was in yours. What do you think?"

"Wow. You've got it all planned out. I like the way you think. Except for the 'visitors' part. I don't like the thought of anyone coming in and imposing on our love nest."

"Well," she said, leaning into me, "we don't have to have any visitors. I'm just thinking, you know, just in case."

"No, you're right," I said. I smiled at her insightfulness, and was a little proud that she would want to share my bed. "I have to say, dear sister, that I hope our bed gets a lot more use than just sleeping."

"What do you have in mind."

"Everything."

"Everything?" she asked, emphasizing the "every."

"You heard me."

Leaning her head back against the headrest and turning her head to face me, she squeezed my hand. I made the turn onto the interstate. "Not long now," I said, indicating our arrival time.

"Be more specific," she said, breathlessly.

"It's just over the state line, so we're looking at about 20 minutes."

"No. Be more specific about 'everything.'" She squeezed my hand again. Her other hand settled between her thighs like she does when she's cold. 

Nervous that I was going to go too far, I cleared my throat before beginning. "First, I want to see more of you. I want to undress you until you are down to your bra and panties. While in your underwear, I want to touch your body until you cum. Nothing is going to be off-limits, sibling or not." I heard a sharp intake of breath, but didn't look at her. "I want to peel your bra off of you until your beautiful breasts are fully exposed to my gaze. I will gaze upon them longingly, finally seeing the treasure I've been waiting for. Barely able to contain myself, I'll cup them in my hands, feeling the smoothness of the skin and the weight of your magnificent tits." Another shudder and moan. "Unable to control myself, I'll bring my mouth down and take a nipple into my mouth, feeling it rise against my tongue. I will be so enraptured I will probably ignore the second nipple for a little while...but I'll get to it soon enough.

"Having tasted of your breasts, I will begin to abuse them with my fingers, pinching and pulling on your nipples, still wet with my saliva, until you cum again." This time I heard a moan and saw movement out of the corner of my eye, her feet moving on the floorboard. "Not satisfied with only giving you two orgasms, my hands will trap your wrists and pin them to the bed over your head and I will kiss you with an urgent passion like you've never known. My mouth will likely travel back and forth from your mouth to your nipples, tasting the skin of your neck, jaw and ears, maybe licking along your cleavage," I said matter-of-factly, "but I'll decide that at the time. Who knows? I may not be able to leave your nipples, even to suck on your tongue." I shrugged my shoulders as if it didn't matter if it happened or not.

"Oh my God," she muttered, her feet slipping back and forth past each other on the carpet of the floor mat. I glanced over and her eyes were closed, the hand between her thighs moving subtly, the back of her thumb touching her crotch.

With a sly, satisfied smile (I couldn't help myself) I carried on.

"So," I sighed, "there you will be, topless on my bed, your nipples slick and shining with my saliva. I will rise up onto my knees and you'll try to follow, but I'll demand that you stay, definitely with a commanding bark, possibly calling you a bitch." She spasmed, her tits jiggling beneath her shirt. "But that won't be enough. I'll remove my shirt and demand that you unbutton my jeans. You'll probably try to touch my chest or abs when I move to straddle your hips, but I won't let you. Your job will be to unfasten my pants, not seek your own pleasure. You will unbutton my pants, and pull down my zipper, then return your hands over your head where I put them.

"Of course I'll have to stand up to remove my jeans, but I'll stand by the bed in those red boxer briefs I'm sure you'll love, given the passion you showed for my black ones." Her hips were swiveling and her breath catching. She was humping her hand.

"Wait," I said. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes and stopped moving, staring right at me with obvious lust. Maybe she liked being controlled. Dominated.

"Unbutton your jeans. You don't have to hide from me. I know you're rubbing your pussy. You may as well do it right." She bit her bottom lip and nodded. Her hands quickly unsnapped and unzipped her jeans. "Go ahead, slide them down if you need to." She hesitated. I hadn't seen her panties yet. She must have been debating.

"Did I stutter? I said pull your pants down so you can play with yourself." I turned my eyes back to the windshield, watching the road, but catching Stacy's movement in my periphery. She was doing it. Holy shit, she was doing it!

"Tell me, Stace. Are your panties still wet?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

"What was that?" I asked more boldly.

"Yes," she quickly replied.

"Yes what?" I hoped she knew where I was going with this. She should. We heard it all the time growing up. I also hoped I wasn't going too far with our game. The last thing I wanted was to make her freeze up.

After a momentary pause, "Yes, sir."

"Very good. Now touch yourself for me." I saw her hand reach between her legs as her other hand squeezed mine on the armrest. "Give it here." I leaned toward her a little, my eyes still facing forward. Her right hand raised up and she brought it close to my face. I leaned forward a little bit and smelled her fingers. 

There it was. That smell from last night. That unforgettable scent of her arousal. "Again," I requested. Again, her hand disappeared in her crotch before it arrived beneath my nose again. "Closer," I requested. Her hand touched my lips. I opened my mouth and took her fingers in, causing Stacy to squeak as her breath escaped in a rush. My tongue played over the fingers in my mouth, savoring the light salty flavor. I closed my eyes for a moment, enraptured by the aroma and taste, marking them in my memory forever. I looked at her, her green eyes again piercing me. "Delicious," I whispered. "I'll have to get more of that. Her eyes closed and her shoulders hunched as her hand remained, levitating before my lips.

"Shall I go on?" I asked, quickly leaning away to my upright, all business posture.

My sister nodded absently, staring at me, almost zombified, her hand retreating to her panties. I looked down as her hand entered the waistband of her underwear. "Pink and black. Nice." She looked down at her underwear, then looked back to my face. Without a smile I looked her in the eye, then turned back toward the road. 

"Where was I? Oh, that's right. I'm standing over your nearly naked form in just my underwear. Because your body is incredible, of course I'm hard as a rock, my cock pressing out the front of my underwear. I hadn't noticed it before, but now that you've taken off my jeans, I notice a dark spot at the head of my prick, where I'm leaking pre-cum into my briefs." I hear a whimper and notice her hand is really working hard. "Looking over your body, I see that your nipples are still extremely hard. And now the pink of your panties is growing darker. I can smell your arousal."

"Your pussy smells amazing. We both notice the twitch in my shorts. It's undeniable. The wet spot grows a little larger as I release more pre-cum in preparation to make love to you. With both of us this aroused, there's no stopping it now. So I'll climb up on the bed, spread your legs with my knee, and lean down to take your nipple...Oh, here we are. You'd better hurry up, Stacy."

"What?" She was kind of confused. She looked from me to the front window and noticed we were getting off the interstate. "Shit, Thomas," she complained as she scrambled to pull her jeans up, I was almost there. That was a shitty thing to do."

"Stacy," I said.

"What?!"

"Stacy." 

She turned to look at me, a look of frustration on her face. I simply opened my mouth a little bit. She slowly took her hand, the one that had been in her panties, and as if reading my mind, reached toward my mouth. I turned my eyes back to the road to avoid an accident, confident that her sex-flavored fingers would soon be on my lips. Her fingertips tickled my bottom lip just as I slowed on my approach to the red light at the top of the ramp. I looked into her eyes with pure passion as I tasted her essence. I closed my eyes for just a moment, signaling that I was savoring the flavor. I pulled her close and planted a kiss on her mouth, letting her taste herself on my mouth. Before she pulled away, I whispered, "I can't wait to taste it right from the source."

Another shiver accompanied a returned whisper of "I can't either. I want you to taste my pussy." She kissed me once more before we were abruptly interrupted by a car horn. 

We broke loose and I gave the "sorry" wave as I pulled forward to turn onto the main road. Of course the driver behind me probably didn't see it since the rear and side windows are tinted. While I merged into the evening traffic, Stacy finished pulling her pants on before pulling the visor down and checking her makeup in the mirror.

"God, T. I was almost there," she said, looking at me with a mix of irritation and amusement.

"I know. And I'll make it up to you, I promise." I gave her a light smile and kissed the back of her hand.

That crooked smile. "You better."

"So, I said, changing the subject, "Any moods for dinner?"

We finally settled on one of those fake southwestern chain restaurants, where little you would find on the menu would be in the southwestern or "Tex-mex" region except in other restaurants in the chain. After the waitress brought Stacy's Dr. Pepper and my Mountain Dew, Stacy was scanning over the tri-fold standup with the picture displays of specialty desserts.

"I was thinking," I said, drawing her attention away from the picture of the molten chocolate cake, "that we could go to the dollar movie after dinner."

"Oooh," she said with a mock flourish. "The dollar movie! You really know how to spoil a girl." She laughed at herself and gave me a wink. In fact, our little town growing up had a second-run movie theater that was very similar and we used to frequent it as a family before Stace and I would go on our own once I could drive. "That sounds like fun. What's playing?"

"I don't know. This theater has four screens and the floor is considerably less sticky than the one back home," I noted, raising my eyebrows as if trying to be a high-end critic, a game we used to play when we would watch movies growing up. Fortunately, both of us liked to talk, make snide remarks and throw our predictions at each other, in hushed tones, during the course of the movies we would watch together. That's one of the reasons our parents used to sit away from us and eventually stopped going altogether, opting to go on dates while we made plans to go to the movies. We would do it at home, too, much to the chagrin of our parents. Until they bought a DVD player for my room, at which point we began watching movies there, lying on my bed while spilling Reese's Pieces and pretzel salt on my bedspread. 

"Is there a dollar store on the way?" she asked, expectantly.

"Mike and Ikes?"

"And Junior Mints."

"Perfect. And this theater is really well-maintained. And they have wonderful giant pretzels to round out the treats for your evening away," I had gradually moved to a cheesy British accent, straightening my posture and picking up my glass as I said it before bringing the straw to my mouth and pulling the soda through it with a downturned mouth and raised eyebrows.

"Splendid," Stacy replied in like gesture and accent. Extending her glass toward me, she continued the charade. "Cheers."

"Cheers," I replied, bringing my glass to hers and clinking the edges together before smiling at each other.

"Well," she said, looking at the menu, "if we're getting snacks at the movie as well, then we don't need a big meal. What kind of sampler do they have?" I looked on with her, sharing the menu (well, she was reading, I was trying to read it sideways, invading her personal space by leaning in over the table, where we were seated on touching edges, again, rather than across from each other. I took advantage and placed my hand on hers where she was pinning the menu down while following the description with her extended index finger. As soon as my hand touched hers, she looked up, smiling, before continuing her reading.

"Okay, here's a three-item sampler where you choose three, but I can't decide which three."

"What are you looking at?"

"I'm thinking the chips and salsa, quesadilla, fried cheese, and loaded potato skins."

"Their fried cheese is the best here, it's a creamy pepper jack unlike any other fried cheese I've ever had, so we have to get that. The other stuff is good, too. Their salsa has kind of a sweet taste to it, so it's worth trying, but I hate to kick out the quesadilla or potato skins for it. We could always get the sampler and then get the cheapest of the other appetizers."




Stacy King and I Ch. 04



I tried to control myself. I really did, but enough was enough. Here she was, legs spread, panties soaking wet and my cum was pooled and streaked all over her body. My dick was working on coming back to life, but the rest of me still worked just fine.

Grabbing my sister by the thighs to prevent her throwing me off, I dove headfirst into her panty-covered pussy. She jumped and squealed at my leap, but I stuck the landing. My mouth was sucking her juices from her panties and my hands were squeezing her inner thighs before she could stop me.

"NO, THOMAS, NO!" she screamed, her damp hands grabbing at my head. She had nothing to grip. Her hands were slick with our combined juices, my hair was too short to pull on, and I was too strong, too invested, for her to just ask me to stop with any success. I hope I hadn't pissed her off. Please don't let this be our last time together because of my impatience, I prayed, knowing I was in no position to ask God for anything. 

Her hands were still clawing at my head, trying to turn it left or right to break the connection between my mouth and her sopping wet panties. She continued to beg, "Please, Thomas, no! Please don't!" After a few moments, however, her pleading became staccato, as did her breathing. Uneven patterns of mumbling, moaning, and gasping took over. Her hands went from clawing at my head to stroking my hair. My hands didn't need to use so much pressure to keep her legs open anymore. Her hips started to roll. Just a little.

"Mmmmm." My first blatant signal of unbridled pleasure. "Yeah, Thomas. That feels so good." She just mumbled as if she was trying to convince herself she could deny it at any time.

"My god, Stace, you taste so good. I love how your pussy tastes." She shuddered and moaned. I moved my hands further up toward her panties, the thumb of each hand just touching the leg hole while my hands pressed harder into her thighs, putting pressure on her to open up more. Her hands left my head, apparently confident I was going to stay put, and she wrapped them behind her knees, pulling herself open for me. I watched as her hands gripped and released, almost massaging the back of her legs.

I was also confident. I was confident that she wasn't going to make me stop anymore and I moved my hands from her thighs. Wrapping my arms behind her thighs, I reached up and stroked her sides on my way to cup her tits and to stimulate her nipples. This had a surprising effect. In order for me to reach her breasts I had to both move forward AND extend my arms. This caused her hips to roll forward and my mouth to apply more pressure. If I wanted to feel her breasts and bring her pleasure, I was going to have to keep my mouth buried in her crotch.

As soon as I touched her nipple, she flinched and gasped, "OH! Oh, yeah! Touch me. Play with my nipples." She had that sexy tone to her voice, almost like she was complaining, but combined with being sleepy. It was the sexiest sound in the world to me at that moment. I continued to roll and pinch and pull on her nipples and she continued to hold her legs open while rolling her hips on my mouth. While I played with her tits, I felt my hand and arm becoming slick with my own eruption that had coated my sister's torso. It added to the eroticism and I was surprised that I was not repulsed by it. I don't think I'm enamored with my own spunk. I think it was more that I was touching my sister's body and the semen made it feel even slicker and smoother. The greater joy, however, was the fact that she left it there. She didn't jump up to wash it off. She lay there in her brother's cum, feeling it cool and separate and dry on her face and her neck and her tits and her stomach. I liked to think that she liked it and that's what I'm going with until I hear otherwise.

I made it a point to look up her body. I'm a visual person, so I want to enjoy the whole experience and sight is a big part of it for me. I looked up the wet pink panties, barely seeing them out of my periphery, traced in blurry black trim, but her form quickly came into focus. Her creamy skin, belly gently rounded. Her navel overflowing with my jizz and random streaks and pools of cream dotting the landscape of her form, rolling with her breathing and shuddering. Her breasts round and proud, capped with two small pink nipples, erect and extending as my fingers pulled on them, stretching her areola to a point before watching it snap back at my release.

Her head must have been pressed back because I saw her chin, but not her nose. As if reading my mind, however, her head rolled up and she looked me square in the eye, a look of absolute unbridled passion in her eyes. "Oh, fuck that looks good, T." Just for a show I continued to look in her eyes while I dipped my head down to where my nose touched her mound, causing my tongue to be down at the bottom of her pussy. Pressing in as hard as I could, I buried her panties with my tongue and dragged my head up so that the muscle followed the groove of her cunt and licked straight up over her clit. She grunted, "Mm, shit!" when my tongue passed that button, her forehead furrowing, but her eyes never leaving mine.

"You taste so good, Stace. I think the flavor is ruined by the panties, though. I need to get a better sample."

"I want to," she moaned. "Give it time. For now, brother, won't you please keep licking my pussy? I'm so wet for you. I want to cum with your mouth on my pussy." Again, that sexy whine.

"Anything for you, little sister." I smiled and dove back in. For the next few minutes she writhed, squirmed, cussed, grunted, moaned, rolled her hips, thrust against my mouth, and squeezed her own thighs as I used my nose, tongue, teeth and lips to manipulate her the best I could with these fucking panties in my way. I was drunk on her scent and taste. My cock was once again rock hard as I ground myself on the bedspread while she ground herself on me. Soon enough, I saw the signs. Her telltale moaning and writhing gave away her pending orgasm. Naturally, this was bringing me closer to having another one of my own. Sure enough after a couple more minutes, one hand flashed from thigh to the back of my head, pulling me in. I didn't dare move as she twitched on my nose and face, grunting and squealing. I pinched her nipples throughout her orgasm, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing, hopefully enhancing it for her. She finally settled back down and her hands came to her own breasts.

As soon as she finished, I'd had all I could take and scrambled up to my knees. Her eyes snapped open, surprised at the sudden movement. "What are you doing, Thomas?" Was that fear in her eyes and voice?

"Shhh! Just watch!" She quickly propped up on her elbows so she could see over her tits. I had placed my left hand on her right knee, which was now sticking straight up while her left leg was still splayed out almost flat. I was resting my ass on my heels and was furiously stroking myself with my right hand. I looked into her eyes and she returned my gaze after having stared with wide eyes at my self-pleasuring. "OH!" I grunted. "Watch, Stace!"

"I'm watching. Fuck, am I watching," she said, obviously turned on.

I quickly rose up on my knees, which put the head of my dripping erection near her pussy. She must have caught on because she quickly pushed herself up a little more, but didn't move her pussy back away from me. I heard a sharp gasp and glanced her way. Our eyes met for just a second before she looked back at my erection. I forced myself to keep my eyes open as difficult as that was.

BOOM! The first blast exploded from my purple head, spattering a belt of cream right in the center of her panties where I imagined her clit was hidden.

"OH!" I heard a squeal from my sister, but never moved my gaze from my target. Another blast hitting almost the exact same place. Another squeal and shudder. This time I tried my luck and wanted to cover as much area as I could. I wanted her to feel my cum on her skin down here. As I continued to eject my seed, I would move my missile to different areas. SPLAT! Her mound and belly. SPLAT! The edge of her leg hole. SPLAT! The other leg hole. The last couple were starting to dribble, so I grazed my head against her clitoris and rubbed the head of my still-leaking dick, around her clitoris and pussy. She shuddered and moaned as I used the head of my penis to smear my cum all over her panties and even touched her legs with it as I scooped the cum up. I made it a point to crawl over her to kiss her, forcing my erection into her panty, lined right up with her soft, wet, slippery pussy. 

She again gasped and shuddered, closing her eyes at the feeling, maybe more the thought, that my cock was pressing into her. We locked eyes before kissing passionately, our kiss pressing her back onto the bed. "Touch yourself. Bring yourself off again," I suggested, my mouth never leaving hers. I felt her shudder and she moaned into my mouth as I felt the back of her hand bump against my fading erection. I've seen her rub herself, but I wanted to watch her again. I sat back up onto my heels, leaving her lying on the bed and she watched me back away, though with no objection. Her eyes closed again.

I looked down and saw her hand pressed firmly on her panties, smearing my cream around as she pleasured herself. She dipped low and made wide circles and small circles. She even dipped just her fingertips into her leg holes, bringing my love a little closer to her center. Her muscles tensed when she did that, her abs contracting, causing her to do a small crunch and making her breasts jiggle. Knowing I was watching her, she began to bring her fingertips in small circles around one little spot on the panties and kept her focus there. After a short time, she simply began to move them side to side in a blur before releasing a strained, "Oooooooooooohhhhhhh!" with her eyes squeezed shut and her back arched. Small convulsions wracked her body before she dropped back on the bed, her hand making small idle patterns on her panties. My eyes only broke away when I heard her voice.

"Mmmmmm." 

I looked up at her. She had sleepy eyes. I was entranced.

"Thomas," she mumbled with a sleepy smile, her voice hoarse, "you're naughty. You didn't ask me if you could do that."

I scooted up next to her on the bed, propped up on my elbow, my still-erect penis resting against my thigh. "I hope you don't mind," I said gently, certain that she didn't.

"No," still groggy. "I didn't mind. That was hot. If I had the energy I would want to go some more, but I don't. I'm sooooo tired. But I'm dirty." She looked up at me, still a little ember of lust smoldering in her eyes. "I'm all covered in your cum." As she said it, she ran her left hand lazily around her panties all the way up to her neck, taking a second to pinch a nipple on the way.

"Would you like me to get you a washcloth?"

Nodding her head, "MmHmm. And clean panties from my suitcase."

"Aww, man," I complained, "You're going to wear panties to bed?"

Giggling, she said, "I don't think you could control yourself if I didn't."

"I obviously can't control myself when you do."

That got a grin and nod. I sat up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. Stacy yelled, "Work it!" and I put an exaggerated sway in my hips without turning around, but heard her laugh a little, still tired. As the water ran to heat up, I grabbed a plastic bowl from under the bathroom sink and filled it with hot water so we could clean each other up and I rummaged through Stacy's suitcase on her bed to find a pair of panties. I picked up two pair: a dark blue lacy thong, and another black satin bikini. I took the washcloth out of the water and hung it over my erection (which had not diminished much due to the level of excitement), and I balled up the black bikini to hide behind the bowl of water I was carrying. In my other hand I carried the thong.

I walked into the bedroom and Stacy had her eyes closed until I said, "Here are your clean panties" and tossed them to her. She caught them and gave me a smirk before laughing. "And here's your washcloth." I smiled as I flexed a kegel, and the washcloth jumped.

"Thanks for the washcloth." She reached for it and pulled it off my hard-on, still giggling. "I'll clean you off first. As for the panties, however," she held them up, letting them dangle from one finger, "I don't think so." She had a smirk on her face. "It would be like wearing nothing while we sleep tonight."

"That's what I'm planning on wearing," I said

"You're planning on wearing this?" she teased, extending her arm out, letting the thong hang.

"No," I laughed. "I'm planning on wearing nothing."

"Then I definitely can't wear this. The last thing I need is your naked dick stabbing me in the bare ass all night."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that."

She laughed again and threw the thong at me. I caught it and tossed it on the dresser, then pulled the other pair out and tossed those to her.

"Thank you," she said. "That's better." She dropped them on the bed and said, "Now come here and let me clean you off." I stood next to the bed where she sat up, my cum having separated enough to thin out and run down her body when she did so. She quickly cleaned off my cock and balls with the warm washcloth and dropped the cloth back in the bowl. Still holding me she said, "There. All clean." Then she bent down and kissed my penis on the head before sitting back up and saying, "Your turn." She smiled at me, knowing what she had done. I guess I smiled back. I don't know. My sister had just touched my penis with her mouth. I don't remember much of anything else.

Seeing that I was too dazed to do anything, she reached into the bowl, wrung out the washcloth, and handed it to me. She took the bowl from me and held it out to her side so I could get to her. I started with her face, gently wiping the semen from her and worked my way down her neck and breasts, dipping the cloth back in the water to warm it up and rinse it every so often. Soon she was all clean except for the panties. Looking into my eyes, she lay back and spread her legs. She apparently noticed my dick jump because she said, "Don't get any ideas," with a sly grin. I smiled back and shrugged. She just rolled her eyes.

I set the bowl on the bed and began cleaning the cum that had not soaked into the panties. She sometimes shivered at my touch, but mostly she just watched. She had propped back up on her elbows to watch me touch her again, only this time to clean up the mess I had made last time she watched me. Being mindful to keep the cloth warm, I revisited the bowl more frequently now. When I had finished, I picked up the bowl, but Stacy touched my arm and said, "Wait." She picked up her clean panties.

"Oh, shit!" I thought. "I'm finally going to get to see her pussy! She's got to change her panties!"

As if she knew she was teasing me, she set the panties on the pillow over her head, keeping eye contact with me the whole time, and pulled the covers over herself. She hunched over and drew her legs up, the covers rising significantly. She lowered her legs back and pulled the panties out from under the covers. She reached up to hand them to me, but as I reached for them, she said, "Uh uh. Open." I leaned forward as if in a daze and opened my mouth a little. My sister placed her balled up panties, soaked in our juices, in my mouth, hanging out like a satiny, cum-soaked tongue. I slowly straightened back up, a little light-headed. Her gaze never left mine. She reached over her head and took her panties, bringing them under the covers. Again the covers raised and lowered. "Washcloth, please," she requested. I wrung out the cloth in the bowl and handed it to her. She gently took it from my hand and her arm disappeared under the covers again. I saw the covers move subtly for just a few moments before the washcloth made its appearance again. I took it from her and placed it in the water, still inhaling and tasting our mix of orgasmic bliss. Still watching me, she arched her back and pulled her panties up the rest of the way. Still hidden by the covers, dammit. "Thank you," she breathed. "Tomorrow we'll need to clean the sheets, but tonight I think I'd like to sleep in our scent." How the hell is my dick still jumping?

Numbly, I walked to the bathroom and set the bowl on the counter. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror: Naked, erect, and my sister's panties shining in the light, soaked through with our juices. I simply stared. And smelled. And tasted. I removed the panties from my mouth, but the taste was still there. Out of nowhere, I scrubbed them on my chest, all over. I wanted to be covered in her smell. I wanted her arousal to soak into me like it had soaked into her panties all day. I dropped her panties in the bowl of water, and turned off the light as I left to return to bed. Our bed.

After turning off the other lights in the apartment, I climbed in and turned out the lamp. Stacy turned toward me and kissed my lips. My hand rested on her hip, my pinky tucked under her waistband, the only piece of clothing separating us from complete intimacy.

"I can smell me," she whispered, only inches from my face. Her hand reached down and took hold of my semi-erect penis. "Mmmm. Don't you ever get enough?"

"Of you?" I whispered. "Never."

She kissed me gently on the lips and brought her hand up from my dick to stroke the side of my face.

"Good," she whispered before rolling to the other side and backing into me. I draped my arm around her and cupped her breast before settling into a deep sleep.

By the time I woke up, it was bright outside. Our bedroom door is always open because, well, what's there to hide? I saw the bright sun primarily through the open blinds that usually cover the sliding glass door. The blinds were open, but so was the door. I could see the brightness in the living room, but I heard outside noise: trees, cars in the parking lot and people talking. I don't usually hear all that. The door was open. I got up and walked out to the living room and Stacy was on the porch leaning against the rail, her back to me. She was wearing her pink short bath robe that she had bought a couple of years ago. She always looked great in that robe. It's not a true pink, but more of a dusty rose color, The outside was cotton, but the inside is lined in a thin fleece and the robe has a hood, fleece lined, that was hanging over the back.

Stacy's wet hair had been brushed out, meaning she had been up and about, even taking a shower without me even knowing about it. I looked her over because, well, she's Stacy. Her robe came down not even to mid-thigh and she was standing on one foot with her other foot resting behind her. Her thighs were parallel, but her left knee was bent so that her toes and the ball of her foot were resting on the concrete patio, but the rest of the bottom of her foot was showing as she swung her heel back and forth idly while she leaned on the porch rail, arms crossed in front of her. Fortunately the deck rail was wood panel, creating a half-wall on two sides with the second end of the patio housing a small storage closet.

I walked toward the glass door. "Hey," I called out.

Turning her head to look over her shoulder, she smiled at me, "Hey. Sleep good?"

"Obviously. What time is it?"

"Almost 10:30."

"10:30? Why'd you let me sleep so long?" I asked, leaning against the door frame. She turned back around as I approached and looked out over the parking lot and pine-covered hills beyond.

"Because you were sleeping. And it's a Sunday. Was I supposed to wake you up for church? Sunday's a day of rest." I could see the side of her face and noted that she was smiling.

"THAT'S the commandment you're worried about?" I asked, smiling back.

She looked over her shoulder with a smile and shrugged.




Stacy King and I Ch. 04



"You know, this is kind of a nice town from what I've seen."

"It is," I said. "It's very quaint."

"I could get used to this," she sighed. She turned around and leaned on the rail. "All right, go get cleaned up and I'll make us some breakfast."

"Okay," I replied, a little surprised.

"Omelets?" she asked.

"Omelets." I turned to walk away. 

"Hey," she called out. I stopped and turned. "Don't dress up today. We're staying in for a while." I smiled and headed to the bathroom. I took a nice thorough shower, feeling the parts where I had been covered in juice, become slick again when the water hit it. I had more on me than I thought. I had it on my chest, yes, but also my hands and arm and my head. My head? Oh, yeah, where Stacy had grabbed me while I ate her out. After cleaning up really well, I shaved and I brushed my teeth and made myself generally presentable. Even though we weren't going out, I figured, what the hell, a little dose of cologne won't hurt. Keeping the bottle at about a foot away, I sprayed twice toward my neck and chest, then rubbed it around with my hands. I never did feel it, but this worked to give me a scent without being overwhelming. I remember that she liked this stuff. When she was a freshman in high school, I took her to the mall to get a dress for her friend's party and at the cosmetics counter we got caught spraying perfumes and colognes and smelling them. Most of them made us laugh and joke, to the chagrin of the sales rep, but we each found one or two that we liked. Next birthday, she gives me a gift of this bottle of cologne. I never wear it; I'm on the same bottle she gave me four years ago.

Satisfied with my appearance, I put on a pair of purple boxer briefs and lounge pants with Mr. Potato Head all over them and made my way back out to the kitchen. The counter was littered with piles of shredded cheese and various meats and vegetables. Stacy was standing with her back to me, whisking eggs in a glass bowl, her ass shifting the robe side to side in rhythm. 

"Now that's something I can sink my teeth into," I said as I watched her.

"Stay right there," she said. "Don't come any closer." She never even turned around. She just stopped whisking the eggs and untied her robe, letting it drop behind her, pooling at her heels. She picked up the whisk again and got back to work.

I was stunned. Mesmerized. As if trying to make a point, she stopped scrambling the eggs and leaned on the counter, forcing her ass out toward me just a little more. Before you think badly of my sister I should tell you that she wasn't nude under that robe. She was wearing panties: the dark blue thong I selected for her last night. Without looking over her shoulder she arched her back and stuck her ass out even more, then wiggled it back and forth.

"What would you like with your omelet, T?" she asked, still not looking back.

"Ham," I replied.

She busted up laughing and stood back up before turning to throw a pot holder at me and quickly turning her back to me again. I was laughing, too, but I tried unsuccessfully to protect myself from the quilted projectile flying at my face. I walked up behind her, still laughing and I could see her shoulders jostling as she was still laughing as well. I put my arms around her and kissed her shoulder, taking care to look down at the breasts below.

"You're such a shit," she laughed, then picked up a piece of bacon and placed it in front of my lips. When I opened my mouth, she put it in and then used that same hand to pat my cheek.

"Thanks, babe."

"Did you know that's the third time you've called me 'babe'?" She asked.

"No."

"Do you know anyone else who calls their sister 'babe'?"

"I don't think so," I said, not really seeing the point here.

"Do you know who people call 'babe'?" she asked, still making breakfast and not looking at me.

"Uh..."

"Girlfriends."

"Huh."

"Lovers."

"Yeah, I guess..." Was she wanting me to stop?

"So, Thomas. Would you consider me your girlfriend?" She put down her knife and placed her arms on top of mine, holding me to her.

I wasn't sure what to say. "Stacy, I've never called anyone 'babe' before. I've never had a girlfriend. I've never had a lover."

"That wasn't an answer, brother." She wasn't upset. More like amused, I would say.

"How's this for an answer? Yes, Stacy, I would like to consider you my girlfriend. My lover." I stood there nervously, not sure where to go or if I should say something else.

"You're sick, you know that?" she asked, bemused. "Perving on your own sister."

I squeezed her tight. "My beautiful sister. Whom I love. More than anything."

"And I love you more than anything. Babe." She patted my hand with her hand. I knew the signal and kissed her cheek before backing away to get out plates and to pour juice. As soon as I let go of her, she spoke again.

"Sicky." I had to smile.

To my dismay, Stacy put her robe back on, covering that spectacular set of tits and ass. She finished cooking the omelets, filling them with all our favorites and having a side of bacon with French toast and juice. Neither of us have ever been big coffee drinkers, so she didn't feel the need to make any for breakfast. The omelets were outstanding, as was everything else, including the company. We sat in the dining area near the sliding glass door where Stacy had asked me to set the table. I don't think I had ever eaten at the table before. Living by myself for the summer meant that I was eating on the couch while watching tv or surfing online with my laptop on the couch beside me. The table was a small, mahogany-stained square with standard matching slat-back chairs. It was perfect for the small space and the clean lines of it meant it could go with most furniture. We chatted while we ate, again sitting on touching sides instead of across from each other. Everything was incredible and I made sure Stacy new it. She had always been a good cook, helping mom from when she was young enough to only stir her chocolate milk.

"When we were at dinner Friday we talked about dating for a little bit. You said that you told people you had someone waiting for you back home."

"That's right." She took another bite, letting the question hang in mid-air for a little while.

I looked at her, eyebrows raised, hands out. After not catching the hint, I spoke. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Did you have someone waiting for you back home or not? You haven't mentioned anyone this weekend. Am I going to get my ass kicked? Should I play dumb? What?"

She gave me this look like she couldn't believe I was asking her about this. "Are you serious?"

"Hell, yeah, I'm serious!" I don't want to be surprised. Especially when...you know...we're...."

"Are you kidding me?" her hand dropped to the table, her fork clanging on her plate.

"What?" I exclaimed.

"You really are thick, you know that? It's you, Einstein! You were the one waiting for me to come home!"

"Me?! I wasn't waiting for you to come home."

"I know that," she let out an exasperated sighed, "but in my heart, it was you. You were the one I wanted. Obviously. I imagined you waiting for me. I saw us as lovers. Going on dates, making love, all that crap!" She shook her head and took a sip of her juice.

"How did I miss that?"

"I have no idea," she snickered.

"I feel like such an idiot," I laughed, slumping back in my chair, my hand resting on the edge of the table.

"You should!"

"Okay, so I don't have to worry about someone showing up here to give me a beat down."

"I don't think so. Unless you're planning to beat yourself."

"Well..." I said, making a gesture toward my crotch.

"Oh, believe me, I know." She laughed again, shaking her head and took another bite of her breakfast.

The rest of breakfast was light-hearted as well. We just talked and laughed, poking fun at each other like we used to do growing up. We talked a little about plans for the day, our last day before class. We figured that we would hang out for a little while, then unpack Stacy's things before going to the grocery store to buy items for the week. "We should probably call Mom," Stacy said. "Sunday can be our call home day." I agreed that it would be a good idea. I was never good at calling home or writing. It just didn't occur to me a lot of the time. Stacy was going to be good for me.

We finished breakfast and I agreed to help Stacy clean up the kitchen. There were just a few dishes so we threw them into the dishwasher and put leftovers in zip-lock bags. While I cleaned the counters, Stacy finished drying out the skillet and bent over to put it in the cabinet.

"Oh, my," she said. "I dropped the towel." I turned around to see her robe just below her butt cheeks, a little bit of blue thong peeking out where it covered her Venus. He knees were straight, but she was bent at the waist, her hand resting on towel on the floor, her face peeking over her shoulder at me with a mischievous smile.

"I'll help you with that. Just let me put this away." I grabbed the salt and pepper so I would have an excuse to reach over her. I reached up and placed the seasonings in the cabinet before I stood right behind her and pressed my growing erection right into her ass, thrusting forward while holding her hips, bumping into her a few times, then pulling her back against me rubbing her ass back and forth against my erection.

I stepped back and dropped to my knees so that my face was right behind her butt. Running my hands up her the backs of her thighs, I finally got a chance to see and feel her raw ass, skin on skin. She moaned a little at my touch as I rubbed, but she held her place. It wasn't long before I was squeezing. 

Her skin was smooth and soft and thrilled me to no end. As I kneaded her round ass I noted its pliability and the shape of it as it met at the thighs and at the center of her being, curving in toward her crevice and perineum. I could only imagine what lay behind that thin strip of dark cloth. I could smell it now, though. She was becoming aroused. I would know that scent anywhere. I was covered in it last night and smelled it and tasted it as she stuffed her panties in my mouth.

As I played and squeezed and pulled, watching the flesh dance at the touch and release of my hand, I had to let her know how incredible it was. "Your ass is amazing, babe." She whimpered, probably at my calling her "babe." She didn't budge, though. "It's perfect and round and soft." I leaned in and kissed one cheek, then repeated it by kissing the other one. "I love it."

"Oh, thank you, T. I'm so happy you like it."

"I didn't say I liked it. I said I loved it."

"I'm glad you love it," she corrected herself.

"That's better. Do you remember what I said earlier this morning?"

"About..."

Before she could get another word out, my teeth were digging into her, making her squeal with surprise and laughter as she jumped up away from me.

I laughed and shrugged. "I told you!" I was still on my knees, but now she was standing above me, facing me and rubbing her butt, where my mouth had just been. I slid my hands up the back of her thighs and again cupped her rounded flesh, pulling her toward me. She smiled down at me, obviously seeing the love in my eyes. She placed one hand on my shoulder and ran the other through my hair at my temple. I closed my eyes at her massage, a smile on my face, my hands still holding her, caressing her. I placed my hands on her hips and prompted her to turn around.

"Don't," she smiled, pointing at me as a warning.

"I promise," I smiled back.

She turned around and her ass was again right in front of me. I reached around and untied her robe. She shrugged it off her shoulders and pulled her arms out while I caught it and pulled it down before tossing it to the side. Again, she was only in her thong, the deep blue fabric buried in the groove that split two perfect globes. My hands cupped and separated her ass, causing a quiet groan to arise from her lungs. They were heavy and soft, I pressed them together, deepening the crease, and I pulled them apart, giving me a quick glimpse of fabric and the change of skin color within. I could see pink. Her asshole was pink. The next time I lifted, I made it a point to massage her cheeks, giving my thumbs the opportunity to get very close to that center mark. As the pads of my thumbs grazed the fabric of her panties, pressing hard against it, she gasped, "Ohgod." It was one word. One quick, raspy word during an intake of breath. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there, and I had heard it. Taking notes.

My sister was becoming harder to resist. With my hands on her hips I leaned in and gently kissed each globe. She reached around to stroke my head again, an expression of affection in return. But I could smell her. Her sex was there. Right there. Waiting for me. I had eaten her through her panties before and I was sure she would let me do it again. I buried my face in her crevice, my tongue extended, pulling her to me by wrapping my hands around the front of her perfect thighs and forcing my head forward. As soon as my face buried, I lapped at the fabric, the sides of my tongue brushing the exposed flesh of her inner thighs while the flat of my tongue dragged across the rough texture of her cotton panties. This wasn't smooth like the satin last night, and it hasn't been made slick by the flood of my sister's juices. But it was a panty and my sister's treasure lay behind it. I'd be damned if I wouldn't continue to dig until I got what I was after.

Again and again I lathed the crotch of her panties with my tongue, my hands squeezing her thighs. I worked my right hand closer to center, wrapping it in and pressing up, finally causing her to speak "Ooh, right there. Rub my clit." I worked my finger back and forth, stimulating the nub beneath the cotton. The front of her panties was lace and the side of my index finger was dragging across the course fabric, making me thankful that the crotch was cotton instead of lace. My tongue would be raw for sure. I continued to work my finger back and forth while keeping my face buried in my sister's ass, forcing my mouth against the crotch. My face and her inner thighs were getting wet with saliva. It was running down my chin and smearing around my cheeks, but I didn't care. I was licking at her pussy, beginning to taste it: the mild salted flavor tinged by...what? I can't describe it. It just tasted like...pussy. There's no other taste like it. I moaned into her ass, wanting her to know I was enjoying myself. She didn't need to have any doubts about the fact that I was gaining pleasure from this. This was exactly where I wanted to be.

Again and again I buried my mouth in her crack, pressing forward, lapping at her cotton protection and the flesh on either side of it, tasting her bare skin, leaking her arousal. It was becoming more and more apparent as I licked it up. The skin between her thighs was extra smooth and soft. Her breathing and panting was increasing. She was making more noise. I backed up for just a moment to see her elbows bent around front, her arms flexing and working. She must have been squeezing her breasts while I was latched onto her cunt, rubbing her clit from the front and tasting her from behind.

She began convulsing as my finger flicked over her clit and her own hands worked their magic on her nipples. I heard her hand slap the counter as she grabbed it to brace herself against the impending climax. Her other hand was still hard at work, as was mine. She pressed her ass back toward me, inches from my face. Her head dropped forward, her hair forming a curtain to hide her expression from me, but I heard her raspy squeal proclaim her flood of pleasure. "Ohshitohshitoh(GASP)Mmmmmfuuuuuuuu(GASP)" before silence accompanied her shuddering hips, the flesh of her ass dancing before me. Her hand left her breast and slapped onto mine clamping around it to keep me from continuing on her pleasure bean. 

After a few seconds, she let out a winded, "Ooh, yeah." She took her hand off mine and I picked up where I had left off, only this time, rubbing front to back on the crotch. "Mmm. Still not done yet?"

"Not even close."

"I'm worn out. Can I sit down?"

I stood up, acutely aware of my leaking erection, and led her to the couch. Rather than lying down like I had expected, she knelt on the cushion, resting her elbows on the back of the couch. This opened her up to me even more, as she peeked back over her shoulder with a sleepy smile, and shook her ass at me. I knelt on the floor behind her and looked at... 

Oh. Fuck.

I swallowed hard. My cock twitched. Pre-cum oozed.

She hadn't realized it, I assumed. Somehow, the crotch of the thong had pulled just a little to the left. Her pussy was still covered, but one side of the vulva was exposed. I could see where it began its curve inward and where her skin moved from a lighter pink to a darker pink. She was hairless and smooth. What should I do? I thought. Should I tell her? Adjust it? Fortunately, the devil sitting on my shoulder had an erection and slapped me in the back of the head with his free hand. What the fuck is wrong with you? Go get it!

I dove headlong into her crotch again, my hands grabbing her ass and squeezing at it as I ate. Stacy jumped, squealed and laughed at my attack. "OH! Someone's still hungry."

"You have no idea!" I exclaimed, pulling away just long enough to say that. Back to work!

"I have some idea," she mumbled. "Damn, you love my pussy, don't you, babe?"

"Mmhmm," I eeked out into her cotton crotch. I was going to have to work this right. If she caught on, it could be a problem. I made sure I stayed on the cotton for a while, my tongue narrow, often pointed. I would occasionally flatten it and run it right on her inner thigh and ass, bringing her a shudder and a moan. Sometimes she would flinch at my touch. I wanted her to feel my tongue on her skin. More and more frequently I alternated between tasting her flesh and licking her panties. After watching for signs that she was getting worked up, she was now more consistent in her signals. Her breathing and cursing, the twitching of her hips, her own hand on her ass, opening her up for me. I waited for that sign again. She may be an unknowing partner in my violation. I could always claim I didn't know. While my face was buried I would feel her pull her right cheek out some as she squeezed at it. 

Next time, I thought. The next time she pulls that ass open, I'm going in. Within the minute she pulled herself open for me and I ran my pointed tongue right up the dark pink, feeling the softest, smoothest flesh I'd ever felt. The taste was a little more metallic, the juice fresher. The left side of my tongue was right up against the seam of her panties. "Ooooooh!" My sister let out a long moan, unconsciously pressing her ass back. "Fuck, Thomas, what..." As soon as my tongue was at the back, I wedged it in again, this time I was even further to center. "MMMmm!" I could feel the panty cave to the side. Again I lapped at her with my tongue spearing forward. "NOooo!" She flinched, but didn't stop me. Her hand was keeping her ass completely open for me now. Imagine my surprise when I pressed forward and my tongue pressed the panty to the side even further. My tongue was buried now, my mouth rested against her naked pussy. My left cheek was pressed against bunched up panty and my right cheek had a fleshy mound of ass against it. "FUCK!" She started twitching all over now, driving her hips back onto my mouth. I did the only thing I could think of. I tried to bury myself even further in. I brought my hands up to her ass, my right hand rested on hers and my left grabbing the back of her panties and pulling them the rest of the way to the side. No use pretending now.

We were locked in a battle of wills, but not with each other. Each of us was battling our own will. I knew she had to be wrestling with whether she should stop me and pull her panties back, and I was wrestling with whether I should back out, cover her back up and apologize. I punched my conscience in the dick and carried on. I wish my tongue was longer. I hated that I could only be this short distance inside her. 




Stacy King and I Ch. 04



Stacy was still twitching and moaning as she grabbed at my hand to pull it off the thong. "Thomas! Stop!" Still twitching. "No! Stop! You can't!" Oddly enough her other hand was holding herself open for me. 

I suddenly got another idea. I don't know what made me think of it. Maybe the devil on my shoulder, that one with his dick out. Maybe it was just because it was there. I backed away but before she could complain, I danced the tip of my tongue across her pink rosebud.

That did it "Ooooohhhhmmmmmmsssshhhhhiiiiiiiiiiit!" She exploded! Her hips pulled away from the edge of the couch, ripping her away from my mouth. Her ass danced wildly as her hand worked her clit and I could see her pussy clench and release, clenching and releasing. I'd never seen a pussy before, certainly never one in orgasm. It was a beautiful sight. I watched as she squirmed and cursed and screamed for what seemed like forever, although it was only a few seconds. Her thighs were soaked, as were her panties, but I didn't know how much of that was from her orgasm and how much was from my mouth. I didn't care. I just fell more deeply in love. Finally she collapsed sideways on our couch, a sheen of sweat covering her. It was hot in here.

Dammit, we'd forgotten to close the door. Hopefully we wouldn't get a visit from the landlord or police. 

Stacy lay there and panted, her hair a mess, face red, exhausted. I simply stood up, walked to the glass door, and closed it, looking out over the parking lot. There were only two cars there: hers and mine. Everyone was out. At least in this side of the complex. If they were on the other side, they would park there, but they also wouldn't have heard us. I felt better.

I went to the kitchen and pulled two bottles of water out of the refrigerator, opened them both and then sat on the floor by Stacy's head. I stroked her hair. She rolled her head toward me and looked at me sheepishly. I continued to stroke her hair. "I'm tired," she said sleepily.

"Okay, just rest here for a little bit." She nodded. I held the bottle up for her to see it, getting another nod, and set it on the end table by her head. I stood up and kissed her on the forehead, walked over to the table and picked up her robe, then went into the bathroom to draw a bath. Looking through her basket on the counter I found some bath crystals that had lavender in them and sprinkled some in the tub. There was a very gentle lather as the faucet filled the tub. I got out a towel and lay it on the toilet seat and went into her room to pick up her Nook to take in there as well. Within a few minutes her bath was ready. Going into the living room I helped her off the couch and picked up her bottled water before helping her to the bathroom. I didn't even offer to help her undress. I kissed her on the head and backed out to leave her to rest.

I took my bottle of water and set it on the nightstand in her room, put my iPod on her speaker stand and started putting her things away. I stayed away from the clothes in her suitcase, but hung up her other clothes in the closet, put together her shoe tree before hanging it on the closet door, and put all her shoes on it. I hung her mirror over her door and pulled things out of the boxes and milk crates, setting them around her room so she could arrange them at will, but they were now readily accessible. I made up her bed and put her lap desk on it, setting her laptop on it and plugging it in to charge. 

She was in the tub for nearly an hour. Every once in a while I would hear the water run, probably to warm it up. When she came out of the bathroom she walked into her room. "Why are you...Oh, my god. You're setting up my room?" She smiled as she looked around and I watched her. Her eyes lit up. She was again in her robe, her balled up panties in one hand, the Nook in her other. Her hair was pulled up in an impromptu bun, a tortoise shell clip holding it in place. She tossed her panties in the hamper and dropped her Nook on her bed before walking to me and giving me a hug around my waist as I put attached brackets onto a shelf board. "Thank you so much." She smelled like lavender.

"Sure. Did you have a nice bath?"

"Mmm. Wonderful bath. Thank you." 

She let go of me and walked over to the suitcase on the floor, crouching down and grabbing a pair of pale green panties. She stood up and looked at me suspiciously, then spun her finger in a circle, indicating for me to turn around.

"Seriously?"

She just raised her eyebrow.

I sighed and turned around. 

After a couple of minutes, she said, "Okay." I turned around and she was back in some shorts and a tank top, a bra line clearly evident. She smiled at me and dropped onto her bed, leaning against the headboard and crossing her ankles. Looking down at her hands, fidgeting with the string on the waistband of her cheer shorts, Stacy cleared her throat.

"Um, Thomas?"

I stopped messing with the book shelf and looked up. "Yeah?"

"We need to talk."

"Okay." I set the bracket on the dresser and sat on the bed at her feet.

"Uh. About earlier....I....well....that wasn't what I wanted." She continued looking down at her hands, avoiding eye contact with me.

"What do you mean? You seemed to enjoy it." I wasn't trying to be argumentative and I wasn't bragging. I was sincerely confused about the problem.

"I know, and I'm sorry about that."

"Whoa! What do you mean you're sorry? What's there to be sorry about?"

Stacy sighed and looked at me. "I'm...enjoying spending time with you. And I love what you do to me, but I pushed things too far this morning. I'm really trying to reconcile some things here, and I'm having a tough time with it.

"I was thinking while I was in the bath. As soon as I settled into the water, I realized that my vulva was burning. I guess it was from your beard. It had gotten a little irritated. That had never happened to me before. I'm sore down there and I know that it's because I've never used it like I have this weekend. Obviously I've pleasured myself, but I've never been with anyone and now all of a sudden...I started thinking about where we were just a couple of days ago and the fact that we...now you were performing oral sex on me. That's too far."

"I'm sorry, Stacy. I don't mean to push. Or maybe I do. But you were enjoying it, and..." 

"Don't, Thomas." She placed her hand out flat toward me as she said it. "Just don't."

"I guess I'm just confused."

"Okay. I'm just thinking out loud here, and trying to wrap my head around something. Hear me out, all right?"

"Of course."

"I've been in love with you for a long time. At least the whole time I was in high school, and even before that. I've never known what to do with it. At first I passed it off as a stupid crush. You're my brother. But I couldn't get over it. None of the guys in school caught my eye. Part of the reason I wanted to go to England was because home wasn't going to be the same without you there. The opportunity presented itself and I took it. I figured that if I could get over there and wrap myself into what I was doing there, my focus would shift and I'd outgrow my thoughts, mature emotionally and everything. But even there, no one grabbed my attention. I spent the whole two years longing for the day when I could be back here with you. I chose my college based on the fact that you were going to be there.

"I fantasized about the very things we've been doing this weekend. I longed for it. And now it's here and it's incredible." Her voiced choked and her eyes started to well up with tears. "And all of a sudden this morning, I freaked out." She sobbed for a moment. I reached out to touch her hand, but she pulled it away. I was shocked. I must have really fucked up this morning. I reached too far and it bit me in the ass. Taking a breath, she continued, her voice still squeaky and ragged as she spoke while crying. "I wanted it and didn't want it, all at the same time. Everything else up to this point was different, I guess, but today something changed." She burst into uncontrollable sobs, tears flowing freely and her shoulders shaking as she hung her head into her hands. 

I sat silently, guilt creeping up inside me, creating a knot in my throat and in my stomach. I was such an asshole. Stacy room blurred as the tears welled up in my own eyes. I called myself every name in the book. Just two days. I'd promised to protect and care for her and I was now her greatest threat. What a piece of shit.

"Stacy, I'm so sorry," I cried. "I'll stop. I'll back away. I'll do anything! Please, just tell me what I can do to make you..."

"It's not you!" she screamed, jumping up off the bed, rage in her eyes as she yelled. "It's me! I'm the freak! I'm the freak who wants to fuck her own brother! How could you even look at me?!"

I just stared wide-eyed, terror-stricken. I'd never seen her like this before. The only words that crept through my brain were, "Son. Of. A. Bitch. Where the HELL did that come from?"

"For two years I tried to get you out of my mind! TWO GODDAMN YEARS, THOMAS! There was nothing I could do! Even leaving everything I knew couldn't do it! I didn't take any pictures of you with me, none of the gifts you had given me, not your college t-shirt from when you got accepted here. That's why I never called or wrote, T. Just the sound of your voice or reading you tell me you loved me at the end of a letter would be too much for me. My heart jumped every time I talked to mom or dad and they said, 'Thomas says to tell you hey and he loves you.' God, I'm such a freak. I should be institutionalized. Who the hell wants to fuck their brother?" She dropped to the floor in a fit of sobs again, leaning her back against the bed and pulling her knees up to rest her head on them as she cried.

I sat silently for a minute, listening to her cry and mentally abusing myself for being such a dumbass. What had I done to my sister? I stood up and walked around the bed before settling in beside Stacy. I sat there on her left, my back to the bed. I lay my head back against the edge of the mattress and stared at the spinning ceiling fan. For the longest time neither of us said anything.

Then she reached for me. Her hand found my arm, which had been propped on my knee. I brought my arm back so that she could hold my hand, and I squeezed. Just a little.

"If you're a freak, than so am I."

She sniffled, but didn't say anything.

"Does it seem like I've been putting up any kind of fight here, Stacy?" I asked, still looking at the fan. No response. "The only reason it was so easy for you to seduce me is because I've wanted the same thing. If I wasn't such a chicken shit, I would have been the one to make the first move." She looked up at me on that one. "Yeah," I nodded, eyebrows up, "when you showed up on campus I saw you get out of your car, but wanted to just watch you first so I could settle down before I said anything. I was afraid I would give myself away. Wait right here." I got up and went to my bedroom, grabbing a shoebox off the top shelf of my closet.

I returned and sat on the bed with the box in front of me. "Come up here," I called as I moved her computer out of the way, setting it on the floor. Stacy sat down across from me, crossing her legs before looking at me, her brow furrowed. I took a deep breath and opened the box. Stacy gasped when she saw it. Inside was a stack of pictures and some trinkets from her room. I put the box lid to the side and reached in without looking at my sister. She immediately recognized some of the pictures.

"Where did you..." she started to ask.

"I printed them off so I could have them. I missed you badly when you left. I was heartbroken when you went to England, Stace. It wasn't because I didn't want you to have the opportunity. I did. It was just that I couldn't stand the thought of not seeing you for two years." I looked up briefly and her eyes were on mine, still red, but the tears were fresh. I cleared my throat so I could continue on. "Every time you would e-mail mom and dad, mom would forward those on to me so I could keep up with what was going on. I printed up some of your pictures, so I was able to watch you grow up. And, um...and I fell more in love with you. I've been beating myself up for more than two years for being in love with my sister. I haven't dated anyone and I haven't made a lot of close friends. I've had a few buddies, guys I play football with or eat lunch with and stuff, but mostly I've kept to myself. The less people know about me the better. That's the way I see it."

"Thomas..." she reached for my hand, but I immediately began flipping the pictures back and showing her the images of her and her friends. 

"This is you staring down the palace guard in London," then dropping it, "and you and your friends at Edinburgh castle." I dropped it. "You on the hunt for the Loch Ness monster." Dropped. "When you decided to make a trip to Germany for Oktoberfest." I didn't drop this one. I turned it around and stared at it. "This is my background on my computer. You look so good in that German barmaid dress, your hair in pigtails." I started to mumble. "It took me a little while to realize there was anyone else in that picture. This is my favorite." I followed it as I put it down before picking up another one. "Here you are trying to keep the leaning tower of Pisa from falling over."

"I had no idea..." She leaned in and took my hand, not letting me pull it away from her. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Probably the same reason you didn't! I don't want my sister thinking I'm a freak or pervert! I already told you that I didn't want to lose you. You're my best friend." My eyes misted up again.

"I'm so sorry. You won't lose me, I promise."

"I don't know. This morning I did a pretty good job of pushing you away. If I need to back off to keep you, I'll do it. I'll move out and you can find another room mate. Keep the furniture. I'll transfer schools. I'll do anything, Stacy. Please don't hate me." I lost it. The thought of my sister not wanting anything more to do with me broke my heart. She was on me in a heartbeat, wrapping her arms around me and cradling me to her chest. I was embarrassed to say the least, crying like a baby. I was supposed to be strong. I was supposed to be the one to care for Stacy and in the middle of her own crisis, I made this about me. What kind of dick move was that?

But more than two years of guilt and hiding came pouring out. I'd had no one to talk to since Stacy left. We had had a very close relationship growing up and it was suddenly severed because of my own cowardice. If I had only told her not to go to England, to stay with me, I could have maintained our relationship. Even if I had never told her how I truly felt, I would have been there for her, talking and laughing, holding her, walking with her through crises. But I didn't. I chickened out and let her go to Europe, not speaking with her for two years. Yep. Dick move.

She continued to stroke my back, her cheek resting on my head. She hummed a song that mom used to hum when she was soothing us growing up. She never taught us the words, only hummed it. And now Stacy was doing that for me. My best friend. By the time the song was over, I was feeling a little better. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, embarrassed. "Sorry," I mumbled.

"Don't be," she replied. "I never knew."

"I know. I should have..."

"No more," she said. "No more...regrets. No more fears. No more doubts about us. No more. We're here now. Together. We can't change the past. But we can do the right thing now. Today."

I took a deep breath and nodded, still looking down.

"About this morning," she sighed. "I think I just got overwhelmed. I don't have any kind of sexual experience at all. I've never had a boyfriend and I've only touched myself. I guess I was okay with everything as long as I could tell myself it wasn't sex, you know?" I got the sense that she was waiting for me to agree with her and would know what she was talking about, but I couldn't catch on. I just shrugged and shook my head a little.

"Like, up till now I've had something covering me. You've touched me over my clothes, even last night, putting your mouth on me, I could tell myself you were feeling me up. I could draw a boundary around it. Even this morning I was wearing underwear. But all of a sudden, you were touching my naked pussy. It was like a line had been crossed in my head, even though you hadn't done anything that different than before. I guess all of a sudden, this is sex with my brother. I know it's stupid but everything else was just playtime. Yeah we kissed and touched, but there were always clothes. When you made contact with skin, I panicked."

"So, just so I'm clear, the panic came because I was touching you without your underwear as a protection?"

"Yeah, I guess. Something like that."

"But you took my underwear off and touched me without it. Why didn't that bother you?" I asked, genuinely wondering.

"I don't know. I think it's because it wasn't MY body. I felt protected in my underwear, but when that was taken out of the picture today, it's like it actually became real sex to me. Does that make sense?"

"I...think so...." I replied with uncertainty.

"Well, that's the best I can do right now. I can't think of anything else it could be. It's almost like, when that curtain goes up, so to speak, the show is starting. In other words, I almost feel like sex is inevitable now whereas before I could pretend it wasn't going to happen."

"So you're saying..."

"Patience, brother. What I'm saying is IN MY MIND I'm now in a sexual relationship with my brother, and that didn't happen until you touched my naked pussy. Nothing more."

"Oh. Okay."

"Just let me think on it some more and if I need to talk about it I'll let you know. How's that?" she asked with a compromising smile.

"Sounds fair." I breathed out a sigh.

She stroked my cheek and softly affirmed, "I really do love you."

"I love you, too."

She moved her hand from my face and stood up.

"Well," I said, clearing my throat, "if it's all right with you, I'll just put this shelf up later," as I scrambled to put everything back in my box.

"Yeah, no problem." She could sense my uneasiness it seems. "Thomas," she said, walking toward me. I straightened up and turned toward her. "Just so we're clear." She put her hand on the back of my head and kissed me fiercely, her tongue invading my mouth, which I returned with equal fervor. My hand made it's way to her waist and I pulled her close against me. After a few moments, she released her grip and pulled away, then smiled and winked at me. I felt better after that. I understood that she wasn't putting an end to our sexual relationship. We both just needed to understand each other. "Now, go get dressed. We need to go to the store. I'll call mom and dad on the way." She swatted my rear end playfully as I exited her room. I turned around to see her bent over, rummaging in her suitcase again.

I returned to the living room to find Stacy sitting on the couch writing on a notepad, wearing a short denim skirt and burgundy halter top. Her feet were up on the ottoman and as I approached, she said, "I'm making our grocery list." She listed off the things she had put on there already and asked for any additional suggestions. I threw a couple of ideas at her. She got a kick out of the fact that I mentioned Pop-Tarts, but put them on the list anyway. 

I helped her up off the couch and she looked me over. "Mmm, I like you in this." I was only wearing a t-shirt, board shorts and flip flops, but apparently she appreciated it. "When we get back, I'll show you how much." She leaned in to kiss me, dropping the notepad on the ottoman and wrapped her arms around my neck. One hand traveled down and squeezed my cock, ensuring that I was hard. I responded my squeezing her ass through her skirt. As if sensing my hesitation, she reached back with her other hand and raised it up a little while looking me in the eye. I took both hands and pulled her skirt up, feeling bare skin.




Stacy King and I Ch. 05



I was lightheaded as I lay there looking at Stacy, the room spinning around me. The emotions of the day were taking a toll, but more immediately, the exhaustion of our first sex had drained me.

"Are you all right, T?" she laughed.

I gave her a half-assed thumbs-up, the best I could do.

"Tell you what. I'll go run us a shower and then we can relax a little. It's a big day tomorrow."

She stood up and patted me on the knee on her way to the bathroom. I watched her ass sway and bounce on each step until she rounded the corner. A few seconds later I heard the shower running and soon enough, Stacy was back at the couch reaching for my hand to help me up. My knees were weak and I had trouble standing. I thought that was just a myth. Guess not. Again she laughed as I tried to learn to walk again.

I let Stacy get in before me so she could have most of the water, but also so I could watch her rubbing all over her body, rinsing herself clean. She tilted her head back and ran her hands through her hair while her breasts jutted out toward me. I was afraid to touch her. Afraid she would come to her senses like before. Her head was back, her eyes closed and some water was running down over her face. Her hands gently glided over her forehead and cheeks and mouth before moving down to her throat. 

She righted her head again and the shower spray was now hitting her on the neck. When she opened her eyes again, she was looking right into mine. She had a gentle smile on her lips and those emerald pools no longer rippled with doubt. This was the most peaceful I had seen her since she got here. This vision of peace gave me a sense of rest that I needed. I brought my hand up and stroked her cheek.

"No regrets, Stace?" I asked softly.

"No regrets."

She put her hand on mine, nestling my palm to her cheek and her other hand touched my waist, pulling me gently forward a step. She let go of my hand and her arms encircled my waist while mine gathered her to me, wrapping around her shoulders. She rested her cheek against my chest and we just touched. We were okay. We both knew it and that's all that mattered at that moment.

"You smell good, T. I meant to tell you earlier."

"You remember this?"

She giggled. "Of course I remember. As far as I'm concerned, that's your signature scent."

"I hardly ever wear it. What's the point if the person I wear it for is an ocean away?" 

She squeezed me a little more tightly before pulling her head up to look at me. I looked down into her eyes. "I'm here now. I don't ever want to be that far away from you again."

"Then don't ever leave me again."

"I promise." She reached up to kiss me and we sealed a mutual promise then and there.

Stacy pulled away and cleaned me up and washed and conditioned her own hair while I cleaned up her magnificent body. I would have to make a habit of this, showering together. I used to wonder what the appeal was, but now I knew. I knew what Mr. Bubbles meant when he said, "Makes getting clean almost as much fun as getting dirty."

We dried off and Stacy tossed a frozen pizza into the oven and chose another movie for us, a lighthearted comedy, one of our favorites from high school. We needed a laugh. She curled up next to me in nothing but her robe, me in nothing but gym shorts, and we laughed and ate pizza and made comments like we used to. I knew that I had not lost my best friend. I felt like we were as close as ever. Maybe even more so. 

By the time the movie was over, it was not especially late for people our age, but we had worn ourselves out both physically and emotionally. By 10:30, we had cleaned up the kitchen, brushed our teeth and headed to bed. I stripped off my shorts and climbed in and this time I watched as my sister untied her robe and draped it over the footboard of the bed, climbing into my bed naked. Instead of curling up with her back to me, she walked toward me on her knees and lay down next to me, her head on my chest and her leg draped over mine.

"Now, I'm home," she said. 

I kissed the top of her head and simply replied, "So am I."



Morning came earlier than I had hoped it would. It was the first day of school for both of us and we wanted to make sure we had plenty of time for both of us to get ready and get to campus on time. The alarm went off at 6:00, 6:09, 6:18, and 6:27 before Stacy finally told me to stop hitting the snooze. 

"I know what will wake you up," she mumbled, her hand reaching for my semi-erection while she kissed my ear. Gently stroking my cock, she brought me to full mast in a matter of seconds. She was writhing on my thigh, her breasts pressed against my ribs and her small patch of fur grinding against my thigh. She sat up on her heels and turned her face toward my crotch and took my head into her mouth. 

"Oh, Stacy. God, that feels good." I could see a smile form around my shaft as her head moved gently up and down my erection, the warmth of her mouth and lashing of her tongue, enveloping me as she took most of me in. She had draped most of her hair over her left shoulder so I could have an unobstructed view of her oral skills. While her left hand manipulated my balls, her right hand rested on my thigh.

I traced her form with my eyes, looking from her face, cheek bulging, lips working, back over her shoulder, full hanging breasts, soft curve of her back and ass as her legs curled back under her. I explored her visually, noticing every aspect of her beautiful form, all the way down to her toes which were pointed out behind her, partially buried in the crumpled sheets.

I brought my hand up to stroke her hair and this brought a smile and sideways glance from her, followed by a quick wink. God, that sexy wink. My hand stroked gently down her shoulder and back to the curve of her butt and back around to her thigh. As I approached her lower back, she closed her eyes and moaned, softly but audibly. Her hand on my thigh gave me a gentle squeeze indicating that she enjoyed my touch.

"You're so beautiful, Stacy. I love your body," I said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment or change the mood. She was doing such an amazing job and it felt incredible.

She raised her head to speak and the hand and my balls moved to gently caress my erection. "I'm glad you like it. I want you to take advantage of it." She smiled and returned to her work. She didn't increase the pace, but my breathing increased all the same. It didn't take long before her consistent, steady manipulation drew me close to climax.

My hips began to move on their own, flinching and thrusting slightly. My hands gripped the sheets and my whole body tensed. Stacy never slowed down and never said a word. She just continued to suck on me and to molest my head with her tongue. The burning in my stomach and thighs began to build and the room suddenly became warm. I determined not to speak or to scream, just to let my sister pull the semen from my sac. So far she was doing an incredible job. I couldn't stop it if I wanted to. Which I didn't.

She never flinched. She pulled back just a little until only the head was behind her lips and her left hand continued to roll my nuts gently as her right hand moved to stroke my shaft as I fed her my seed. The fire streamed out of me, burning on its escape, but it didn't seem to bother Stacy. She took what I gave her, earning every drop. I wondered if she felt it was a reward for a job well-done, or if I was the only one who benefited. I didn't have to wonder long.

Stacy backed off, her lips pulling against me, siphoning the last of my seed as her hand pushed it up the shaft. She sat back up onto her heels and smiled at me. Her breasts hung firm, her nipples erect and I could see the top of her shaped pubic hair before it disappeared between her thighs.

"Now I'm more tired than I was before you did that," I smiled before rolling over away from her. I felt the bed move as she jumped on me, forcing me into the mattress and forcing a gush of air from my lungs. She was laughing that contagious laugh, I think laughing at me more than laughing with me. Of course it caused me to laugh as well before I rolled back toward her and brought my arms around her waist and squeezing her amazing ass as we kissed.

"Unfortunately," she said, pulling off of me, "we have class this morning. Otherwise I would love to just stay in bed and play." She slapped me on the rear "Get up. I get the shower first, though." With that she bounced across the bed and walked out of the room. Within a few seconds I heard the shower running and I got up, pulled the ironing board out and turned on the iron to heat up before walking to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

We were both ready to go and finishing up breakfast and had plenty of time to get to class. We joked back and forth as we always had and I was feeling more comfortable about our relationship as the days went by. Feeling that Stacy did not regret what we had done and failing to sense any doubt from her eased my conscience considerably. As I poured each of us a travel mug of Mountain Dew, Stacy hopped up onto the counter beside me.

"I'm excited about my first day of college!" she exclaimed, her face supporting her assertion.

"I'm glad. I think you'll like it. Today shouldn't be too bad because it's probably going to be syllabus day. Most of your professors will hand out the syllabus and go over the important parts, then let you go."

"Really?"

"Really. You may have a couple who do that at first, then start into the first unit, but most don't. And don't get syllabus shock. Try to take it in stride."

"What's syllabus shock?"

"When you get your syllabus you'll see all your assignments on one page and it can seem overwhelming. As soon as you get a chance, transfer your assignments onto a calendar so you see it spread out over the whole semester and it seems more do-able."

"Okay, thanks."

"Sure." I handed her a mug and said. "You ready?"

"Let's do it." She hopped down and grabbed her backpack and I grabbed mine before we headed to the truck and made the drive to campus.

The morning went pretty much as expected. Each of my classes was less than half an hour and I found out the same from Stacy after our classes ended for the day. As she approached the truck where we had agreed to meet, I heard a voice behind me. 

"Stacy!" I saw my sister look past me and wave with a smile and I turned to see who she was waving at. Bouncing toward me was a petite brunette with almost raven-black hair and a dark complexion. I couldn't determine her ethnic background. Her eyes were narrow and dark and her frame was lean. She was bubbling with energy as she approached and practically ignored me to talk to my sister. 

Stacy stopped right beside me and gave me a kiss as a greeting, her hand resting on my shoulder. "Hey," she said simply.

"Hey."

"Hi, Stacy," said the bundle of energy before smiling my way. "Who is this?"

"Ashley Hu, this is Thomas Hunter." Stacy motioned to me. "Thomas, Ashley."

Ashley stuck her hand out and I took it, looking down into her deep brown eyes. "Hu. That's...."

"Pacific," she said simply. "My family tree is kind of a hodge-podge of the rim. Hawaii, Philippines, Japan. But my mother is white. Pasty white," she laughed. "She was Navy, stationed in Hawaii. So it's just easier to say 'Pacific' than to list everything. Hunter, though, is..."

"Pasty white." 

She laughed. Her laugh was lilting. Stacy laughed and winked at me. I smiled.

"So, Thomas, what year is this for you?"

"Junior. Freshman?"

"Yeah."

"We're in composition and science together. It's nice to make a friend so soon," Stacy interrupted, apparently reading my mind. She was always the more outgoing of the two of us, making friends easily.

"So how do you two know each other?" Ashley asked.

"We grew up together and just recently started dating." I smiled on the inside, and felt a sense of pride and relief as she snuggled up to me, taking my arm in her hand. 

"Oh. Okay." I couldn't tell if that was disappointment in her voice. I'd have to ask Stacy about it later. "So what are you guys up to now?"

Stacy answered before I could. "We've got to go pick up some things and then Thomas is taking me home."

Ashley looked surprised. "You're not living on campus?"

"No. I have family that lives close enough that I can commute, and Thomas has his own apartment." It rolled off her tongue like she had been thinking how to answer that very question. "Anyway, sorry to run, but we have to take care of some stuff and I promised I would call home and tell them about my first day."

"All right. Well, see you later."

"Yeah. Who knows? We may be in another class together tomorrow."

"Nice to meet you, Ashley," I offered.

"Nice to meet you, too, Thomas."

Ashley turned to walk toward campus as I helped Stacy into the truck before climbing into the driver's seat. I hadn't even closed my door when Stacy started up. "I think she likes you."

"What?"

"You didn't pick up on that?" she smiled. "She seemed disappointed that we were dating."

"I guess."

"What do you think about her?"

"I don't know." My stomach tightened up at the mere question. There was a giant wheel with possible responses in my head and I pictured myself spinning it, hoping to land on an answer that would keep me out of trouble.

"I think she's pretty, don't you?" She sounded bemused.

"I...guess so. If you're into....that....she's....I guess." Smooth.

Stacy laughed out loud. "Duh...I guess. She's purty." She mocked me with a buck-toothed, cross-eyed grin and deep voice. Back to normal, shaking her head and laughing. "You're such a dork."

"When you asked me that question, alarms went off all over." I tucked my elbows in and flailed my hands. "Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Danger!" This got a laugh out of her.

"Okay, I guess it wasn't fair. It's okay to say a girl is pretty if I ask, but it's never okay to just offer it off the cuff. How does that sound?" she asked with a smile.

"Can I just cop a random feel?"

She just slapped my arm at that question.

"So that's a no, then?" I asked, rubbing my arm and laughing.

"Just drive," Stacy laughed, shaking her head. I took her hand and kissed the back of it before holding it as it rested on the arm rest between us.

As we left the campus, my sister leaned toward me and said, "How about a massage when we get home?"



When Stacy had asked the question about an afternoon massage, she had that smirk that told me she wasn't asking for a massage. Fortunately we lived close enough to campus that the drive home wasn't torture. As usual, I followed behind her so I could watch her round ass shift in her jeans as we climbed the stairs. She already had her key in the knob before I made up the four step difference between us, and as she turned the key, she smiled at me over her shoulder.

I was in love.

As we walked in to the living room and dropped our bags, Stacy didn't even look at me. "Get that blue quilt out of the closet and lay it out on our bed." She was on her way into the kitchen when she said it. I went to the small closet and pulled out the quilt that our grandmother had made when Stacy was born, and went to our room, spreading it out on our bed. I heard a cabinet door slam closed and a few seconds later Stacy was standing in the door way with the tub of coconut oil. She held it up and twisted it in her hand while smiling that mischievous smile, one eyebrow raised.

"Coconut oil?" I asked. "You said that was for cooking."

"No. What I said was that when used for cooking it was good for us. But it's good for us in other ways, too." She walked toward me holding the oil up, her hips swaying as she approached, breasts dancing beneath her grey t-shirt. Her eyes were beginning to simmer a little. "Coconut oil has lots of good uses, brother. It's good for the skin as a massage oil. Scented oil can be added to it. And it makes a great. Personal. Lubricant." She said each of the last three words as she took one more step toward me. My dick swelled even more as she stood close enough to me that her breasts were pressed against me.

"What do you say, brother?" she whispered into my mouth, "Doesn't a massage sound soooo gooood right now?"

I just nodded stupidly. I was in awe of the sultry beauty before me. She didn't even take her eyes off mine as she underhand-pitched the oil onto the bed. I just heard a soft thud. My hands quickly wrapped around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. Her arms embraced my neck as our tongues danced. She ground herself against my groin, moaning around my tongue as she felt my erection wedged against her mound.

After a minute, she stepped back and shuddered. "Oh, wow," she breathed. Her nipples were trying their best to break free from her shirt. She tried to regain her composure and gently pulled my t-shirt up over my head. She then lowered to her knees and unbuckled my belt before unbuttoning my jeans, pulling down my zipper, and lowering my jeans to my knees. There I was in my shoes with my jeans around my knees, and my slick blue boxer briefs. "I love these on you," she said as she stroked her hands on the outside of my hips and thighs, feeling the smooth material that encased me. I pulled one foot free from my shoe, then the other, and pulled my jeans off over my feet before removing my socks. 

Stacy stood back up and pressed herself against me for another kiss. This time I ground my erection against her and squeezed her ass through her jeans, pulling her to me as I did. After a minute, she backed away, her eyes smoldering now, her breathing becoming heavy, just as mine was. She lifted her hands up over her head, inviting me to remove her shirt. When I pulled it off I noticed her wearing a plum colored bra, the lace nearly transparent so I could see her nipples. The cups of the bra were not large enough to cover her areola, so I saw a little extra pink rising like the beginning of a sunrise on each breast, cresting the horizon of her bra.

She had already kicked off her shoes and as I unfastened and unzipped her jeans, I saw matching panties with a lacy front, but full back, cut to a high hip. They fit her perfectly. She was incredible. "God, you're beautiful," I muttered.

"Just beautiful?" she asked with a wry smile.

"So. Fucking. Sexy."

"Better."

She pulled my hand and led me to the bed. "Lie down on your stomach for your massage," she requested. I grabbed a pillow and tucked my arms under it to cradle my head. I heard music begin. It was The Police's Synchronicity album, and Stacy turned off the ceiling fan and lit the pumpkin spice candle on the dresser. The bed moved as my sister knelt beside me and opened the jar of oil before scooping some out with her hand. After a moment I felt her smooth, slick hands begin rubbing across my upper back and shoulders, just stroking at first. I was melting at her touch and as she began to work, I became more at ease. She moved down my back and stopped at my waistband before starting at my foot and working her way up my leg for a few minutes, then doing the same to the other foot and leg, then my hands and arms. She would regularly revisit the jar of coconut oil to gather more oil. She felt amazing.

I felt her fingers curl under each side of my waistband and she simply said, "Lift up." I raised my hips so she could pull them off and frankly felt a little exposed with my bare ass there for her to see more closely, but she didn't say anything. She didn't joke, but also didn't coo over it. She just gathered more coconut oil and applied both hands at my lower back before caressing each globe, dragging her hands down to the tops of each thigh before beginning to work and squeeze and actually massage my muscles. After a couple of minutes, I would notice her thumbs getting close to center and she would brush them against my perineum and anus, just barely grazing past it, but my body was responding. I could feel my cock twitch, but could also feel my sphincter tighten as she passed by it each time. After a minute or so, however, she brushed her thumbs one after the other, right over it, causing me to pucker and flinch.




Stacy King and I Ch. 05



"Hey, sis, what are you doing back there?"

"Shhhh. Just relax."

"But..."

"SHH!"

I didn't say anything else, but tried to let her enjoy the massage. She had been more than generous with her body and had trusted me in so many ways. It was time for me to trust her and give her whatever kind of access she wanted. Over the next few minutes, Stacy continued to dip her hands in for more oil while also revisiting my back and legs, always returning to my rear end. On one pass, when her thumb passed over my anus, the other thumb followed, but paused and pressed in, just a little.

I gasped and flinched, but not out of pain or displeasure. Surprisingly, it felt nice.

"Does that feel okay?" Stacy asked quietly.

I just nodded and tried to maintain steady breathing, a host of questions and doubts flooding my mind.

"Good. I'm glad." Her voice, though quiet, was filled with genuine pleasure. Almost...relief? "Tell me if you want me to stop or if it hurts, okay?"

"Okay," I breathed, still uncertain, but definitely not complaining.

While one hand continued to massage my back, soothing me, Stacy removed her thumb and inserted another finger, this time slowly going deeper. I had no idea how deep she went, but after a second, she withdrew the finger most of the way and then began pressing back in. I was becoming incredibly aroused, surprised at the pleasure it brought me.

"Oh, God, Stacy, that feels good."

"Mmmm, good. I think I'll hold onto that info for later. For now," she withdrew her finger and lightly smacked my butt, "turn over for the rest of your massage."

I have to say I was a little disappointed, but she did say she wanted a massage, so I couldn't complain. When I rolled over and settled back in, Stacy's hand went immediately to my rock solid erection, gripping it firmly around the shaft.

"Well," she said with a smile, "you do seem to enjoy that." She gave me a couple of strokes, squeezing some droplets up to the head and watching one roll down the shaft to meet her index finger. She pulled her hand away, causing a thin string to span from my shaft to her hand before breaking at just a few inches. Stacy looked me in the eye as she licked that small drop of fluid from her finger before following it with a low moan. "Yum," was all she whispered.

My sister stood at the edge of the bed by my feet and dipped her hand into the oil and began working my shins with oil, her breasts jiggling as she moved. When she would bend forward to reach, her breasts would spill over the top of her bra and her ass would round nicely, but when she would straighten back up her bra would regain its composure and her ass would round out even more. Back and forth she would reach and stand, reach and stand, keeping me in a trance. Her heart pendant would swing like someone rappelling on a fleshy cliff, swinging away from the face before settling back into it again and again, always finding that hypnotic cleavage.

She took her hand off my erection and climbed up to straddle my thighs, the front of her pussy resting right up against my balls. Just a little higher, please, I thought. But she didn't. She knew what she was doing. She was teasing me. Again she dipped into the oil and rubbed her hands together before leaning forward to place her hands on my chest. She worked my chest, shoulders, and abdomen, coming all the way down to brush against the thatch of pubic hair before rerouting back up and outside. She was using this time to get to know my body. I could see it in her eyes. When she was working on my back, I couldn't see her face, but now I could. She adored me. She liked what she was doing. 

"Stacy." She looked up. "I love you."

She smiled and paused. "I love you, too, T." She was sincere. This wasn't a cursory response. 

"I mean I really love you. I adore you. I'm so deeply in love with you I can barely contain it."

Rather than respond with words, she lay on my chest and kissed me. Softly. Our tongues danced gently but freely. One hand came up to rest on her lower back. My other hand rested on the side of her head, covering her ear. We kissed for just a few moments before she pushed herself back up.

"Thank you, Thomas." She got off of me and giggled. "Now get up! It's my turn!" She practically pushed me out of the way, laughing, and took my place on the quilt, face up. "Oooh, thanks for keeping it warm." More giggling.

I smiled at her as I knelt beside her and tried to repeat the pattern she had done on me. I started from her feet and ankles before working up her lower legs, feeling the smooth skin. I would look up at her face on occasion and usually her eyes were closed as she relaxed under my touch, but every once in a while I would see a smile, hear a moan, or catch her watching me. Usually her eyes would be on mine and she would smile when she caught me looking, but often they were scanning my naked body as I stroked her skin.

As I worked my way up the front of her thighs, I kneaded her flesh, feeling the muscles underneath, but also enjoying the softness of her relaxed form. I recalled the way these thighs felt wrapped around me yesterday as her heels pulled me into her, pressing into the back of my thighs. I remembered how these thighs spread open before me, inviting me to bury my face in my sister's pussy. And I wanted all of that again. It would come. Soon. For now, however...

I dipped my hand back into the oil and massaged my sister's hands, one at a time, pulling and massaging each finger, then her palm and back of her hand. These were the hands that played in her pussy, the hands that groped her tits through her tank top, the hands she had stuck down her shorts when she caught me jerking off to fantasies of her. These were the hands that stroked my cock to orgasm and that fondled my balls, pulling the cum from them. And these are the hands that hold mine when we walk side by side. Gathering more oil I worked up her arms, again feeling the flesh that embraced me. Soon I was at her shoulders.

"I need you to take off your bra."

"No." She didn't even open her eyes to answer me.

"But the massage..."

"I finished your massage without asking you to take off your underwear."

"No you didn't."

She opened her eyes and turned to look at me. "I never told you to take off your underwear. Solve the problem." With that she turned her head back to center and closed her eyes.

Damn. She was right. She never asked me to. She did it herself.

I got up and stood at her feet and curled my fingers under the waistband of her panties. When she felt my fingers she smiled, eyes still closed. I pulled down and she lifted her hips without waiting for me to ask. Her panties rolled down her hips and I was able to pull them off over her legs and feet with no effort. I was mesmerized, however, by her pussy. Pink and beautiful and hair trimmed into just a strip. She had shaved the T into just a landing strip. We both know her pussy is mine now. No need to keep it labeled I guess.

"Beautiful."

"Thank you."

I tossed the panties to the floor and walked around to the other side of the bed to stand at her head and moved the shoulder straps down over her arms. Without a word or opening her eyes, she brought one hand up and quickly tapped the front of her bra at the cleavage a couple of times and brought her hand back down to rest on the mattress.

It was a front clasp, which I had never done, but I quickly saw how it worked. I quickly released the hasp and her breasts immediately pulled the cups to the side. I placed both hands in the middle of her chest and slid the bra cups outward away from the center, my palms brushing over her nipples.

"Mmmmm," came the low moan. By the time her nipples were exposed again, they were hard, like pebbles, twisted up into nubs, rising from the pink field of her beautiful areola. She pulled her arms through the straps and sat up just a little so I could pull the bra out from behind her and toss it to the floor. I reached back into the oil and began massaging her shoulders right up against her neck and worked my way out and down. I had to pace myself because my immediate desire was to cup and massage her breasts. But I was there soon enough. I massaged her breasts, kneading them, pushing them together, pulling on her nipples. She writhed and moaned quietly, but soon she reached her hand back and grabbed my erection, stroking it in rhythm with my strokes on her breast. I bent down and kissed my sister on her lips before backing away, forcing her to release her grasp on my dick. Regrettably. 

I returned to her feet and climbed on the bed, straddling her thighs and applied more oil to my hands, working her abdomen and pubic mound. I admit I brushed across her clit more than was necessary for a relaxing massage, but really, who were we fooling here? I dipped my hand down to cup her mound and to apply coconut oil to her shaved vulva, my middle finger piercing her wet pussy, drawing a gasp, then pulling back up to brush across her clit for a few seconds, drawing a moan and causing her to writhe her hips. I teased her a few times like that before pulling back and returning her favor to me.

"Roll over," I said cheerfully, drawing a moan of resentment, hoping for pity. I had none.

She rolled over and settled in and again I began working her legs and arms, then straddled her thighs to massage her shoulders and back. My cock was sticking straight out, but my balls were hanging and brushed against her ass every time I leaned forward to work higher up on her back. She shuddered a few times when this happened. I scooted back a little on her thighs so that I could reach further down on her back without being in my own way, but also because I hoped...

Oh, yeah, that worked! Damn, that felt good! Because I moved further back, in order for me to reach higher up, I had to lean forward more and push myself forward. This nestled my dick in the crack of her ass like a hot dog in a bun. We both enjoyed this it seems. I know I did, and if her moaning and writhing was any indication, Stacy did, too.

I decided to test it. I sat up, pressed my erection down and began fucking along her crack.

"Oooh, Thomas, you're bad. That doesn't feel like a massage," she muttered, sticking her ass up just a little, increasing contact.

"Shhhh. I'm just making sure I don't miss any spots."

"Mmhmm. Why don't I believe you?" She sounded sleepy.

I leaned forward so I could whisper in her ear, forcing my cock to put more pressure on her ass crack. "Because you're a pervert. All you think about is sex. You're just naughty." She moaned and pressed up against me. I sat back on her thighs again and blurted out, "But, I need to finish your massage." I took some more oil and began massaging the globes of her ass, the only part of her body I hadn't touched. 

I couldn't believe how lucky I was. I massaged her globes, squeezing and kneading and brushing my thumb against her rosebud, just as she had done to me. Maybe she was dropping a hint, I don't know. Either way, I've wanted to play with her ass for a long time. I'd always wondered what she would be open to doing, so maybe this was a first step in discovery. 

Gathering more oil I concentrated on massaging her ass, but more on pushing all that oil toward the center so that the excess would run toward her pussy and ass. As she became slick and shiny I thought now was the perfect time, so without any pretense I pressed the pad of my thumb against her backdoor and she moaned.

"Mmmmyeah." She pressed back just a little, letting me know it was all right. I continued to press with the pad of my thumb and like quicksand I watched it gradually sink before the tip of my thumb was enveloped and the nail disappeared just as Stacy gasped. "God, yeah, T." she mumbled, her back still arched, her ass open to me. I withdrew my thumb, gaining a moan of protest, but it was quickly replaced by my middle finger. I again pressed against the crinkled circle and the tip sank in more readily this time, a sigh escaping my sister's lips. I gently pressed forward, watching my finger disappear further and further until I was almost at the knuckle on my hand. I slowly withdrew to the first knuckle, then pressed back in. 

Stacy began to respond as I picked up the pace. Her breathing increased and she grabbed the sheet with her hand. "Ooh, shit, that feels good," she mumbled. Her head was rested on the pillow, but she walked her knees up so that her ass was high in the air as I continued to stroke my finger in and out of her gorgeous pink asshole. "Do you like that, Thomas? Do you like finger fucking my ass?" she asked me, her eyes still closed. 

"You have no idea," I replied. I would have never guessed I would be doing this. But I would have never guessed a lot of things that have happened. As I plunged my finger, I noticed that she had brought her hand up and had begun stroking her clit, rubbing it in rapid little circles. While one hand worked her asshole, I brought the other hand up to squeeze her ass, which served to open her ass and pussy up to my view and brought a groan from my sister. I ran my hand down from her ass to her thigh, over her calf and grabbed her foot. Having recalled her reaction to my foot rub that first night and knowing that women are covered in erogenous zones, I ran my thumb firmly and quickly along the arch of her foot from the ball of her foot to her heel.

"OH!" she squealed as her toes curled and her hips thrust. I repeated the move, gaining a similar response, the hand on her clit moving faster. I moved the anal fucking finger more quickly, trying to match the intensity of her displayed pleasure and she began to convulse, her toes remaining curled, her legs shaking, hips thrusting. Her brow was furrowed and her face was in a frown. Her hair was a mess as she kept the side of her face pressed into the pillow, strands frosted to her forehead and cheeks with pleasure sweat. Her free hand was grabbing at the sheets and I feared there would be a permanent twisted crease there. Her body was covered in sweat and oil, glistening in the muted daylight and lamp light of our room.

The intensity of her display matched the thrumming bass and syncopated beat as Sting repeated, Sending out an S.O.S...Sending out an S.O.S... Upward she climbed, squealing through a strained throat, "Fuuuu... Here it comes!" My arm burned as I continued to thrust into her. I was fascinated by the display. Her anal ring clamped onto my finger, then released, clamped, released, clamped. Her pussy convulsed in a matching dance and her pink painted nails were a blur on her clit as... "AAAAAHHHHfffffffmmmm!" burst from her reddened face. Her hips no longer twitched, but instead lurched forward and held for a few seconds, then released and again lurched and held. A sudden unexpected waterfall poured onto the quilt, flooding her fingers and thighs, and some of it bursting forth several inches back, landing on my thigh.

Stacy calmed and I withdrew my finger as she relaxed her hips back toward her feet, obviously exhausted. "OHFUCK!" she squealed as my cock plowed into her! She didn't see it coming, but she was certainly going to remember I was there. "Damn, T! Fuck me!" she grunted. I don't know where she found the energy, but she raised up on shaky arms and flung her hair back over her shoulder as she leered back at me over her shoulder gritting her teeth. I withdrew, but she drove her hips back to envelop me again, her ass smacking into my thighs with an audible THWAK! 

"Oh, yeah?!" I pushed her forward while I withdrew until just my head was encased in her pink velvet, then yanked her back as I drove forward with all I had.

"YESSS!" she hissed at the impact, her eyes never leaving mine. I'd never seen such passion mixed with rage. It scared and excited me. My balls tingled at her gaze. Again she moved of her own accord, pulling away and slamming back against me. It was hard to tell who was in control of our fucking. I had to make sure.

"No." I pulled away, withdrawing completely. She whined and chased me with her pussy, but I just rested farther back with a wicked smile.

"Please, T." Her eyes changed from passionate lust to pitiful sorrow. 

"You'll take what I give you. Do you understand me? Whore."

"Yes." Again she tried to find me with her pussy. Again I pulled away.

"What was that?"

"Yes, sir."

I smacked her ass, bringing a yelp and while she was distracted I plowed all the way in with full force. Again she squealed, but rather than looking back at me, she kept her head turned forward. I could only imagine what she looked like. Perhaps her eyes were closed, mouth open, a look of absolute pleasure on her red face, her sweat-soaked hair plastered around the frame of her visage.

I pounded into her with all I was worth, and even some I had to borrow from my reserves. I was going to give it to her with all I had.

"Take it, bitch!" I forced it out. I hated calling my sweet sister a whore or bitch, but here we were. She twitched at that one.

"Oh, yeah...Yes, sir."

"What are you?" I demanded, pounding into her.

"I'm a whore," she whimpered.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Louder this time. More demanding. In control. She whipped that hair around again, peering at me over her shoulder. "What are you?" I asked again.

"I'm a whore!" Such passion!

"Whose whore?!"

"Your whore." She was losing energy, her eyes rolling. I had to pull this climax out of her pussy.

"Your brother's whore." At that, she moaned and shuddered, her head dropping. "Say it."

"Oh, god. I'm my brother's whore," she whimpered, but it was clear as day. She was just jarred by my thrusting and her hips began to convulse. It felt like she pissed on my shaft and balls as she came. I was covered in liquid heat. This was about all I could take.

"That's right," trying to control myself, let her know who was doing the fucking and who was doing the taking. "Your brother's about to cum, whore. Where do you want it?"

Again she shivered and convulsed, her voice strained as another flood burst onto my balls. "Anywhere, brother. On my ass or pussy, tits, face, fuck! I'm your whore!" 

That was it! I pulled out just as my first blast of heat escaped. My jizz streamed onto her convulsing cunt, immediately washed by another flood. The second arched up onto her back. Stacy continued to lurch as my seed spattered her rosebud, another shot onto her pussy and as I began losing force, I moved forward to drip the final shots onto her ass crack, where I watched it dribble down toward her pussy.

"Fuck, Stace," I muttered. I was out of breath and completely exhausted. I rested back on my heels and Stacy fell forward, still convulsing as she came down. Her legs were quivering. I looked straight down between us and the quilt was covered in a puddle about the size of a dinner plate.

"Mmmmm. That was sooo good, T." She didn't even move, just mumbled into the pillow. I made the move to crawl up beside her and to wrap my arm around her waist. We were both slick with sweat and coconut oil and it felt amazing. I immediately began to get hard again.

"What's that?" she giggled.

"I guess I'm not as tired as I thought." I ran my palm across her nipple.

"I don't know if I can keep going," she sighed.

"There's only one way to find out." I rolled up and kissed her.

"MMmmfff," she mumbled into my mouth, but only for an instant. She quickly returned my kiss. I continued to grope her tit, my hand still slick and smooth against her skin. Her left hand made a slight move to grab and pull on my cock while her right hand reached over to cup my head as we kissed.

It wasn't long before she rolled me over and straddled my waist. I grabbed her tits with both hands as we kissed and then she broke the kiss and offered her large amazing breasts to me, leaning over my head, her nipples just inches from my face. I reached up with my mouth and sucked and bit first one nipple, then the other, alternating back and forth among moans and cursing from my sister. "Suck'em, Thomas. Suck my tits." Again I grabbed both breasts and pushed them together so I could suck both nipples at once. This sent her over the edge. "Oh, god, yeah! Harder!" I sucked harder and whipped at them with my tongue, shocking both nipples at once as they met in my mouth. "Mmmm!"




Stacy King and I Ch. 05



I popped them free and squeezed them together again before alternating back and forth again. "Do you want in on this?" I asked, again taking a nipple into my mouth. Stacy gave me that shy but wicked smile and nodded. She grabbed her own breast and lifted it up, craning her neck so she could lick and bite at her own nipple. I was in heaven. She never looked away from my eyes. I watched as she engulfed the entire nipple, her lips puckered around her areola as if she was feeding off her own milk. She then smiled, showing me that her nipple was caught between her own teeth and she was pulling it away from her breast. She formed a point with it as the weight of her tit pulled against the nipple trapped in her gorgeous white teeth. She let go and the nipple rested freely again. But Stacy wasn't done. She did the same thing with the other nipple. She then lashed at each nipple with her tongue. I could feel wetness on my abdomen where she was leaking on me. Back and forth she played with her own breasts, pinching and pulling the nipples, squeezing the flesh, using her mouth to ensure her nubs stayed rock hard.

This whole time, my hands were wandering her body, stroking along her thighs, hips and waist, sometimes reaching around to caress her butt. It just occurred to me, so I thought I would spit it out. "I would love to see you in some body jewelry."

"What kind?" She ground against me as she asked.

"I don't know. I've seen navel piercing and I think that's sexy as hell. But even toe rings are hot."

"Anything else?" she asked, still grinding.

"I know you're not big on needles, so I couldn't ask you to pierce, but I think you would look incredible with some sparkle."

"I'll keep that in mind." She leaned down to kiss me, letting her breasts fall free. She was pressed against my whole body. She even brought her feet up so that the tops of her feet were rested on my thighs just above my knees. I felt completely embraced. 

Well, almost completely. I reached around Stacy and grabbed my cock, which had to be dripping by now, and stroked it along her lips. Stacy immediately pulled forward, sat up, and smiled at me. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"I'm trying to make love to you." I tried to push my hips up into her, but she just rose up more.

"Oh, so now it's making love? A few minutes ago you were calling me a whore. What makes you think you're ever going to put that thing in me again?" She was a little more stern this time.

"We, uh..."

"And calling me a bitch? Where do you get off?" With that she shuffled forward and kneeled on either side of my head, her pussy inches from my face. "Eat it."

"But I came on it."

"Oh, yeah. I guess you did." With that she settled directly onto my mouth. My nose was tickled by her patch of hair, but my mouth was rested firmly against the slick soft folds of her pussy. I had mixed feelings now. I wanted more than anything to eat out my sister. I loved her. I loved her body. I loved her cunt. But just a few minutes ago I had cum all over her pussy and ass and had watched it gather on her lips. It ran the whole length of her crack all the way down to her lips.

I couldn't help myself. I smelled and tasted something different. It was me. My load had thinned in the last few minutes, so it wasn't thick and white anymore, but every time I met a puddle of it with my tongue, I noticed a distinct difference. But it wasn't as bad as I thought. She had tasted herself and she had tasted me, so it wouldn't be fair for me to complain. I didn't want my hang-ups to keep me from giving my sister all the pleasure she deserved. I quickly got used to it and soon enough the taste was gone which I assumed meant that I had eaten my own cum off my sister. Stacy continued to writhe and moan as I lapped at her pussy, jamming my tongue into her snatch and swiping it across her clit. 

"Oh, yeah. Mmmm, fuck, baby," she moaned, sometimes looking down at me, sometimes closing her eyes. "Who's the bitch now?" Oh, man. My sister was pinning me down with her shins on my arms and her crotch on my mouth. I couldn't believe it. She was in total control and there was nothing I could do about it. I was surprised to find that I didn't want to do anything about it. I liked this aggressive side of her. Apparently she was playing with me like I had played with her. I had a strange mix of excitement and comfort. I knew now that she wasn't upset. I had wondered. But I also liked her pinning me down and taking what she wanted. I always wondered why people liked bondage, but now maybe I was getting a glimpse of the thrill. Who knows? Maybe this will lead somewhere. For now, however, I had pussy to eat.
I pushed my face hard against Stacy's mound, digging as deeply as I could to taste her pussy from the inside. "OHGOD!" she grunted, obviously not expecting it, but enjoying it just the same. She responded by grinding against my mouth as my tongue snaked inside her. I shook my head back and forth, rubbing my nose against her clit and my chin on her perineum. It wasn't long before she began to convulse and she flooded my mouth with her sweet juice. 

As soon as she stopped, she sat back on my chest, freeing my arms. This was all I needed. She was weak and exhausted. Now was my chance.

I grabbed her waist and twisted her to the side, catching her off guard and causing her to scream as her arms flailed in the air trying to grab for something, anything. She landed on the bed and I rolled with her, pinning her to the mattress with my weight. I forced a kiss on her, which she responded to with a muffled squeal before quickly returning it, her tongue grappling with mine. I backed away and looked into her fiery eyes, glowing green in beauty.

"Who are you calling 'bitch'?" With that I shoved my cock in to the hilt, inviting a grunt from my whore sister. She quickly smiled with gritted teeth, but her eyes quickly turned lustful again as I pounded into her again and again, her breasts flying free underneath me. Her legs wrapped around my thighs.

"So you're going to make me your bitch again, huh?" she asked, haltingly with each thrust into her flooding cunt.

"Damn straight!" 

"You think you got what it takes?" Her eyes were still on fire and the sweat was starting to build on us both again, allowing me to slide on her.

"I've got more than you can take."

"Oh, yeah?"

I didn't even respond. I just railed into her as hard as I could. She grunted with each thrust. I rose up on my arms and hooked them behind her knees, curling her up, practically bending her in half. 

"Oh fuck!" she screamed. I never slowed down, but kept driving into her. My head was scraping the front of her pussy on every stroke, hitting her g-spot. On every outstroke, I was crowning, getting caressed by the back of her pussy. We were both experiencing maximum stimulation. I went at her hard and fast. She was constantly moaning and grunting, but clamped down and forced my cock out as she sprayed me with a stream of juice and uttered a string of profanity until she had no breath left. I didn't even give her a break before I forced myself back into her again. After a few more strokes, she pushed me back out, again juicing me. Her pussy looked like it was inside out as she sprayed me.

I knew I didn't have much time left before I blew my load. I was beginning to burn and tingle as I wedged my cock back into her still-convulsing box once again. This time I buried it with my weight, assuring us both that if she came again I wasn't going anywhere. I lay on her, kissing her, dueling tongues with her and forcing my tongue into her mouth when she was convulsing in a silent scream. I felt a warm flood cover my shaft and balls again. 

My legs were giving out, my arms were giving out and my nuts had their A- game on. This was going to be huge! As the fire began to burn, I grabbed one nipple with a free hand and pinched and pulled her nipple, forcing out another blast. This time she forced me out, and my cock just launched on its own. I didn't even touch it for the first couple of shots, The first shot streaked her stomach and over her shoulder, the second went even further. I grabbed myself and stroked, aiming at her upper body, hitting her tits, cleavage and under her chin. Sadly I didn't have the power to get one as far as her mouth, which was still open and forcing out grunts. It turns out she had shoved a hand down to take my place and was burying a couple of fingers in her twat as I blasted a load all over her. I heard the sloshing sound of her fingers working herself over before she relaxed on the blue quilt which was now mottled with oil, girl juice, sweat, and cum.

She opened her sleepy eyes and gazed at me as her pussy hand idly circled her body, smearing our cum before her hand plopped down beside her on the bed.

It was dead silent. The music had long since ended. There was no ceiling fan on overhead. Only our breathing and the thunder of my own heartbeat could be heard. 

I lay down beside my sister and settled in for a rest. I was starved, but didn't dare move. This was where I wanted to be. She didn't say a word. She didn't need to. I didn't speak either. Neither of us moved for the longest time. I took in our setting. The room was calm and cooling off more as I rested. The air smelled of pumpkin spice, the candle Stacy had lit for our massage. Out of the corner of my eye I could still see the flickering flame in the glass jar. The quilt was soft and smooth beneath me. 

After a few minutes, Stacy moved. Her hand slid over a little and touched mine. I took it. We lay like that for a few minutes. I saw Stacy turn her face toward me. I turned to look at her and she smiled. I smiled back and she brought her far hand up to stroke my cheek. I brought my hand up to grasp hers and kissed her palm before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I was the first to speak.

"Whore," I muttered.

"Bitch."

I smiled. 

She squeezed my hand.

I fell asleep. 



I woke up to the sound of Seinfeld and Stacy. I sat up and walked over to the door, poking my head out, but didn't see her. I realized I was kind of sticky, so I thought I'd better wipe down. I went into the bathroom and turned on the water so it would get warm while I pee'd. After wiping off with a washcloth and re-applying some deodorant, I threw on some gym shorts and a t-shirt and walked out where I saw Jerry Seinfeld complaining about a puffy shirt on television and saw Stacy standing in the kitchen in her cheer shorts and tank top, phone tucked between her shoulder and ear as she pulled chicken apart.

When I walked in, she looked over at me and smiled.

"When is that, again?" she asked whoever was on the phone. "I don't think we have anything then, but T is right here, so let me ask him...Oh, okay. Hang on." She pulled the phone away and said, "It's mom. She wants to talk to us." She put it on speaker and set it on the counter. "Mom, can you hear me?"

"Yes, sweetie. Thomas?"

"Hey, mom."

"Hey, hon. I was just telling Stacy that your father is going to the trade show in Atlanta toward the end of the month. He's itching to look at all the new toys, you know." We knew. "Anyway, I'm coming with him, but wanted to come see you while we're down there. He enjoys the show more than I do, and doesn't notice if I'm there for a lot of it. Would that be okay? Can I come spend some time with you?"

"Sure, yeah!" Stacy said, looking at me.

"Of course," I said. We loved our parents dearly and this wasn't any kind of imposition on us. "Are you looking to spend a few days here or just pop in for a day?"

"Oh, no. I would probably just drive up in the morning and spend the day, then drive back down around dinner. You're only, what, two hours from the city?"

"About that," I said.

"What's your schedule like?"

"I'll e-mail it to you, mom. We're on the same course schedule, so it should be easy to plan," Stacy said.

"Thank you, sweetie."

"No problem."

"While I've got you both on speaker, your dad and I have been talking. We want to bring you a proposition to think about."

Stacy looked at me wide-eyed. Here we go again, I thought. The family business. I rolled my eyes in response and Stacy had to stifle a laugh.

"Okay?" Stacy acknowledge the request.

"We know we've been talking to you both for a long time about working here when you get out of school, but I think we've been going about it all wrong." I got a look of surprise on my face, which was matched by Stacy's. My mother continued, "We want to start paying you now as apprentices in the company. Our first two apprenticeships."

"What do you mean 'apprentice'?" Stacy asked. I should let her speak. She's the smart one.

"We know that, Stacy, you are good with business and numbers and that, Thomas, you are the creative, visual one. We would like for you to train under us while you're at school. What this means is that your job will be to take your courses, concentrate on them, choose majors that you like, and then bring those skills back to Kitchen King to help us move forward."

"What does that mean, exactly? That our job will be to do what we are already doing, only with a promise to come work for the family business when we graduate?" Stacy sounded doubtful and looked at the phone sideways as if mom was sitting right there.

"Something like that. We would like you to work at the office over long breaks, maybe a few days at Christmas and longer over summer. Otherwise, yes, just do what you're doing. Of course we would pay you. If you're working for us, you won't have to find jobs there. You haven't found jobs yet, have you?"

"Not yet," Stacy replied, "We were getting settled in and then were going to start looking this next week. Thomas has some good leads and contacts."

"Okay, well, don't get jobs. As far as we're concerned you already have them. We were thinking $1500 a month."

Stacy was very enthusiastic and my eyes bulged at the figure. "That's very generous. I think that's more than fair, mom. Are you sure about that?"

"Your dad's the CEO and I'm the CFO. We're sure. For a full-time job it's not very much, so it's fine. If you're each taking a full load of classes and then doing all the outside work of homework, studying and projects, we're considering it at least 30 hours a week, plus whatever you do for us at the shop and trade shows, et cetera. We think it's fair."

"Wow, thanks, mom! Really, thank you," I said.

"No problem! I'm glad we can help out. Now, I'm not asking for an answer right now. We can talk about it when I come up in a few weeks. That will give you both some time to think about it and talk about it. In the meantime, we'll go ahead and put you on the books as of September 1 as apprentices and deposit the $3000 into your accounts."

"Wait," Stacy said, her eyes wide, "Did you say, $3000?"

"Yes," mom sounded confused. "$1500 for each of you."

"Each?!" I blurted.

"Apprentice pay, son. You are two employees and we pay you separately. Just do your job, think it over and we'll talk when I get there. I'll also send you two passes to the trade show in Atlanta so you can attend over the weekend if you want, kind of get a feel for what you're getting into. No obligation, though. Fair enough?"

"Um, yeah! Way more than fair. Thank you so much. We'll talk about it," Stacy was flabbergasted, just like I was.

"Definitely. Thanks, mom. And thank dad for us."

"Sure thing, sweetie. I love you."

"Love you, too, mom," we both said. Mom said good-bye and hung up. 

We both stood there stunned. Stacy looked at me and I just shook my head. I had nothing to say. 

"Maybe we should just eat and we can talk about it later. That's a lot to digest," said Stacy.

"Yeah. A real lot."

Stacy moved and went back to shredding chicken by hand. "It is nice to have that pressure off of having to find a job, though."

"Of course. One less thing to worry about and guaranteed income." I started gathering the dishes as Stacy began mixing the chicken in with the steamed rice and green beans. This was one of my favorite meals that mom made while we were growing up. I don't think I've had it since Stacy left and I was excited to be eating it again.

I grabbed a couple of plates and set them on the counter and poured drinks to put on the table along with silverware and napkins. Stacy was stirring everything together in the bowl and then spooned some onto a plate, handing it to me. I waited for her to do the other one and carried both to the table. Stacy followed behind and sat beside me at our little table.

I took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks for dinner, babe." She winked back at me with a smile as she took her first bite. I followed suit and took a bite as well; it was as good as I'd remembered. "Nailed it," I told her.

"Okay," she blurted, "I can't take it. What do you think about mom's offer?" She took a sip of her tea and looked at me over the rim of her glass.

"Wow. Seven minutes. Well done, sis."

"Shut up," she laughed. "You were thinking the same thing, so let's just get it out there."

"Honestly, as much as I've tried to deny it, I think I wouldn't mind working with the family biz. I've tried to find another way out, but when it comes down to it, I can't think of anything else I'd rather do." I shrugged as I took another bite.

"Me, neither. I could see working in the front, dealing with customers, setting up accounts and figuring costs. Mom really seems to enjoy it and I've been thinking of being a business major anyway. Why wouldn't I want to do that for the family's benefit?"

"No reason. I'll still have to think about it, but my initial reaction is positive. I really want to consider it. I can't believe they want to pay us that much for going to school, though," I said.

Stacy looked astonished. "Oh, my god! Do you believe that? If we're following mom's formula, that only comes out to about $12.50 an hour, which isn't unreasonable, and it's only $18,000 a year, which, like she said, for a full-time job, isn't high-paying, so they could totally justify it on the books."

"Do you think we should go to the trade show?" I asked.

"If we're going to do this, we should do it right. I think we at least owe them that much."

I nodded in agreement. So far it looked like we would be apprentices with the family business.

That night, Stacy and I made love. That afternoon was full of raw passion and energy, but not this time. That night was slow and tender. We kissed and I gently removed her tank top and shorts before kneading her breasts as I played over her clit with my tongue while my two middle fingers moved gently inside her. Her orgasm was slow to build, but intense when it hit. She writhed and moaned, thrusting her hips up into my mouth to gain maximum pleasure.

When I was finished, I slid up her body, pausing at her breasts to take each nipple into my mouth, manipulating them with my tongue. My hand continued to reach between us and rub her clit and lips. Her hands played through my hair, begging me from one nipple to the next as she mumbled directions to suck or nibble her nubs or whispered encouragement to me.

"I want you in me," she whispered as she pulled me up further. As our tongues gently intertwined, glazing our teeth and lips, the granite shaft of my spear eased into her. Her arms surrounded me and her heels dug into the backs of my thighs as I supported myself on my arms to keep my weight off of her. For several minutes we rocked together, whispered our love for each other, and moaned our pleasure. When our eyes weren't closed, they were locked on each other.

After a few minutes, my sister pushed me up, saying, "I want to ride." Who was I to argue. I rolled over and lay back. She quickly and smoothly straddled me and sank onto me, her hands on my chest. With her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of my waist, she again rocked, sliding off of me, exposing my wet shaft to the cool air before resting back down again, impaling herself on me. After a few minutes she began to pick up the pace and her breasts began swaying and bouncing more severely, hypnotically. I brought my hands up to cover her nipples with my palms. Her hands covered mine for a moment, squeezing herself through my hands before she rested her hands on her thighs. Her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back as her breathing increased. Her head dropped forward, her face veiled by her golden-brown mane. She didn't say a word as she settled fully onto my groin and pulsed, convulsing in pleasure. She didn't need to speak. I knew.




Stacy King and I Ch. 06



As my first class was finishing up, mom texted me telling me she was just passing the town where the interstate narrowed from metro Atlanta to rural interstate (of course she just mentioned the town name, not the rest). That meant she was about 45 minutes out. I sent Stacy a text and told her I was skipping my next class and asked her to do the same so we could get home. Her return text simply read, "k". Good enough. 

We met after class and walked to the truck hand-in-hand. Stacy got a couple of "Hey, Stacy's" as we walked and even called out some inside joke back and forth with another girl, followed by laughter and a wave. I love her laugh and while I was curious about the nature of the jokes, I knew better than to ask. Her response has always been, "If I told you, then it wouldn't be a private joke now, would it?" On the one hand her ability to keep secrets had been great for me, on the other it could be exasperating. Especially when I was the one from whom she was keeping the secrets.

But I was glad she was making friends. It seemed like every week there were a few more faces in her social circle and every time we were on our way out, the trip to the car took longer as she would introduce me to someone new or stop and say, "Wait, I have to talk to [insert name here] for just a minute." One of the things I noticed was that she didn't have a typical friend. She had always been that way. It had always seemed like she was as much a friend to those deemed mutants and outcasts, as she was to those in the higher social order at school. Granted, not everyone liked her and there were still some whose social group was so closed and focus so narrow that even Stacy couldn't break in, but she didn't care. She knew that not everyone likes everyone and that's just the way it is, but she also knew that there are some who feel that no one likes them and she was going to prove them wrong by making an effort and reaching out.

Because we were in kind of a hurry today, she just waved and yelled and if someone wanted something from her she would tell them to e-mail it, she was in a hurry. Soon enough we were back at the apartment and I made sure the dryer was empty and things were folded and put away while Stacy cleaned the breakfast dishes and gave everything a final rubdown with lemon-scented wood polish.

As I finished folding the towels in "our" room, Stacy came in and sprayed the dresser, wiping it down with a cloth diaper. "Hey, guess what I found out yesterday."

"What?"

"You know how I said that Ashley seemed jealous because you were taken?"

"Yeah."

She stopped and turned around, shaking her head back and forth with a mischievous smile.

"Gee, is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No, but at least you can rest assured that it's not you. It turns out that she's a lesbian."

"No shit."

"No shit." Stacy turned back around and sprayed the dresser again before wiping the top down. Her ass swayed gently back and forth as she crouched and leaned and moved her arm in small rapid circles. Nice.

"Why do I get the feeling that there's more to this story?"

"No reason."

"Yes."

"Okay," stopping again, "there's a little more. It turns out some of the girls were talking in their dorm last weekend, just goofing off late at night over pizza. Naturally the conversation got to talking about sex and relationships because, you know. Girls. Anyway, someone threw out the question in a 'you have to be honest' kind of thing, and asked if they had to pick one guy on campus and one girl on campus to make out with, who would it be? Of course they all swore to secrecy, but naturally one of them broke that with me yesterday."

"Uh huh. Move it along."

"Relax," she smiled, "I'm getting to it. The girl who asked the question said that she would kiss Cole Richards and then named some girl. When she said Cole Richards, apparently most of the girls agreed with that, but when it came to the girls, the answers varied. But Ashley apparently mentioned me."

"Really?" I was genuinely surprised.

"I know, right? So the girl who told me said she wasn't surprised because she's seen the way Ashley looks at me when I'm not looking. She said, 'You know she's a lesbo, right?' I told her I really didn't. I had no idea. Can you believe that?"

"Who's Cole Richards?" I asked

"Trust me. You have nothing to worry about." She winked at me to make her point.

"All right. So Ashley's a lesbian with a crush on you. Are you gonna go for it?"

"Shut up!" she laughed and threw the cloth at me, hitting me in the face.

"I'll take that as a yes," I said.

"You'd like that, huh? Watching me with another girl?"

"You never know." I wriggled my eyebrows.

"Yeah, well don't get your hopes up. I don't swing that way." She looked around and said, "Okay, I think everything looks okay for mom. What do you think?"

"Looks good to me." I walked over and kissed her. "Thanks, babe."

"No problem."

We put the towels and the cleaning supplies away and a few minutes later mom knocked on the door. Stacy answered it and greeted mom with an excited greeting and hug. As soon as she let go, I hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She had a small overnight bag with her, which surprised me. I hadn't expected that.

"Why the bag, mom?" I asked as I took it from her.

"Your father sometimes makes contacts and has business dinners and drinks with other people. He can be late coming in so we thought that if he had dinner plans, there's no reason I should rush back. He'll let me know this afternoon. Is that all right?"

"Of course," Stacy said. "Why wouldn't it be?"

I couldn't think of a reason I could share. Of course I had a reason, but not one mom could know about.

"Oh, good. I don't want to impose."

"Not at all, mom," I said. I set her bag at the end of the couch. "Are you hungry? We haven't had lunch yet."

"Sure."

"We haven't been back to the Crowe's nest since my first night here. What do you think, T.?" Stacy recommended.

"Sounds good to me. I could go for that."

We piled into mom's car and Stacy drove us to The Crowe's Nest. It was busier during lunch as a lot of the local business employees went for the lunch specials. Mom enjoyed her grilled chicken salad as Stacy and I both got the buffalo sandwich basket again. As we ate, mom transitioned from small talk to the business of the business.

"Have you two thought about the apprenticeship offer?" she asked.

I answered after an approving nod from Stacy. "We have. We've talked about it a few times and were looking at some things and we'd really like to take you up on it."

Mom's face lit up with the news and her smile lit up the room. "I'm so glad! Your father will be so happy to hear it! I know you will both do well. So what have you been thinking?"

Stacy fielded this one. "I think I'll continue pursuing a business degree and work more with the business and customer service side. You know, billing, accounts, marketing, all that stuff. Cory has been more attracted by the design aspect so he'll work more with the shop and kitchen design aspect. If our apprenticeships could more fall in with those areas, we think it would be the most beneficial for everyone."

"I think we could arrange that. If you want, we'll go ahead and start moving toward Christmas and give you a few days at the shop before you come back to school. That way you can see how things work in a more hands-on way and can also help you gain some focus for some of your classes along the way."

"We really appreciate this, mom. It takes a lot of pressure off while we're here, and gives us a more definite path toward graduation." I was positive that my statement was not speaking out of turn for Stacy because we had discussed this several times over the course of the last few weeks. She just nodded, glancing at me to make sure I saw before returning her focus to mom.

"Great, then have you thought about the trade show this weekend?"

"I think we're going to give it a shot tomorrow. Maybe dad will introduce us to a few people?" Stacy requested.

"I'm sure he will. You have your passes and schedules. Your passes will get you into the free parking for the convention because you're considered vendors and have a booth. So just come, find the booth number on the map and we'll go from there."

"Thanks, mom," Stacy said.

We ate and talked about school and work and all kinds of things when mom's phone rang, playing George Strait's "Check Yes Or No," her customized ring tone for my dad. 

"Hey....yes, we're at dinner right now....No, they said it would be fine.....Hey, they agreed to the apprenticeship and are coming tomorrow. They want to meet some of your contacts....No.....Okay, I'll tell them. Have fun and be safe....Love you, too. Bye."

"Man, I hope that was dad," I said. Mom smiled and shook her head while Stacy snickered.

"Your father," mom emphasized 'father' for my benefit, smiling as she did so, "has his dinner plans, so it looks like I'm staying here tonight. And he said he would be happy to introduce you around."

Stacy was excited. "Yay!" she exclaimed.

I wasn't as much. Not that I didn't want mom here, but that meant I was on the couch tonight. And I would have to change my sheets when we got home. It's just one night, I thought. I can make it one night. I went two years away from her, so one night should be easy.

We spent the afternoon showing mom around the town and looking at the local shops. She and Stacy had a great time looking through the little stores on old downtown Main Street, especially the Christmas store. They especially got a kick out of the "redneck" Christmas items. Mom mentioned that she had never seen so many pick-up trucks in one town before and I told her that I remember having that same feeling, but that this was a big chicken farming area, and I quickly got used to it. Where we had lived was more suburban and people had pick-up trucks, but they were mostly nice and clean, people hauling the occasional mulch from Home Depot, or their latest garage sale finds. People in this little town had trucks that were perpetually flecked with red clay around the fenders. They were working trucks, hauling trailers with hay and feed, and yes, chickens.

Mid-afternoon found us wanting a little ice cream from the local parlor and we all agreed that it reminded us of the one back home, where Stacy worked. While this one had a decent variety, it wasn't quite the same as what was back home. I had cookies and cream, mom chose butter pecan, and Stacy selected rocky road, each of us requesting sugar cones. While it was still a little warmer than mom was used to, it was a nice day and the breeze was cooler than it was a month ago. We enjoyed our walk through town. Mom and Stacy chatted and laughed and I usually walked a step or two behind them, not wanting to interrupt their conversation which bounced all over the place.

Soon enough we decided to return home and relax a little, giving our legs a break. "We will do plenty of walking tomorrow," mom reminded us. 

When we walked in the door to the apartment I picked up mom's bag and announced that I was going to put it in my room and change my sheets for her. She followed me in, trying to talk me out of it. "You'll do no such thing. I'll sleep on the couch tonight."

"No, ma'am. You raised me better than that. I couldn't do that."

"Thomas..."

"It's my turn to sleep on the couch," Stacy called from the door as she walked in, grabbing the bag off my bed. "Thomas gave up his bed the first night I got here, so it's my turn. And my sheets are clean, so it saves a step." She was talking as she walked out of the room and turned into the hall.

"Stacy," mom called after her, "wait!"

I heard them going back and forth, each insisting on their way, and I didn't know if I should argue my way. But I knew both of them well enough to know that they are both strong-willed enough that I wouldn't win anyway, so I opted out. I sighed and walked out the door and stood in Stacy's door as I heard mom finally surrender, "Okay, if you're sure." She sighed and looked defeated, but appreciative.

"I'm positive," Stacy said, giving mom a hug.

"Thank you, sweetie." She stepped back from Stacy and turned to look back and forth between us and said, "Now if you would like, I'll take you out to dinner somewhere. So clean up and pick a spot that's nicer than where you would go without me."

"Well, it's kind of a small town, so there's not a lot of choice apart from chain restaurants and fast food," Stacy said.

"There is one place I've heard good things about, but I've never been. It's Italian, if you're up for it."

They both agreed that it sounded good and we went to our separate rooms to get ready. I was about to take a shower when there was a knock on my door. I opened the door and mom asked where the towels were. I told her they were in the hall closet. Stacy was in the bathroom at the time, so mom was waiting to get in since there were only two bedrooms and they were both occupied so we could get ready to go.

About a half-hour later, I was dressed in a golf shirt and some navy golf pants, which was nicer than I usually wore, but wasn't formal by any means. Stacy was wearing a black dress that had a v-neck and the skirt came to just above her knees. Her hair was curled a little and her make-up was freshly done.

"You look amazing, Stace," I told her, bringing a blush.

"Thank you," she said. "You look nice, too."

I received her compliment and whispered, "If mom wasn't here..."

"Sshhhhh. But she is. I'm trying not to even think that way. This is hard enough as it is. I don't need you making promises you can't keep right now." She laughed a little as she said it, but we both knew we were in the same boat.

"Either way, you look ravishing."

"Thank you."

Stacy and I sat and talked while mom was finishing up. I had called ahead to Villa Napoli telling them we would be three for dinner and we agreed on a time. Mom opened the door and walked out, dressed in some nice black pants and a shirt that had a scoop neck and was mottled with orange, red, and black. It's hard to describe, but it looked nice and it was something she could wear to work, but was also nice for her to wear it to dinner with us. Mom always dresses for work and her wardrobe is almost exclusively professional/casual wear it seems.

"Wow, mom, you look great," Stacy said

"Very nice, mom," I added.

"Thank you."

"I called ahead and by the time we get there, they should be about ready for us. Mom, can we take your car since it has the most room?" I asked.

She agreed and I opened the doors for both ladies, watching as my mother slid into her seat before closing the door, then taking a chance to look at Stacy's legs as she slid into hers before hiking her skirt up a little to show more thigh, smiling at me as she teased. I gave her an exasperated look and shook my head before smiling as I closed the door. I drove mom's black Avalon the few miles to Villa Napoli and turned into the small parking lot, which was mostly hidden by a white-painted brick wall a little taller than the car, with some kind of vines weeping over the sides of it.

As I drove, I noticed that mom was looking out the window, not saying much and had a familiar worried look on her face. When Stacy would ask her a question, she would perk up and answer, putting on her "there's nothing wrong" face, but I could see what Stacy couldn't while sitting behind her. I never said anything, not wanting to ruin the evening. After all, it could be any number of things I didn't know about anyway: business, money, my father's evening out, or just a mom who missed her kids. Who knows?

As I opened the doors, I let mom out first, then Stacy and closed each door behind them before setting the alarm and walking across the narrow parking lot to the small brick building with tinted windows and "Villa Napoli" printed in white cursive across the window of the wooden front door. As promised, our table was ready and we were seated near the back of the dimly-lit dining room which was peppered with candle light at each table.

Dinner was nice. Mom and Stacy both ordered something I couldn't pronounce, mom's in a red sauce and Stacy's in a white cheese sauce. I ordered the shrimp spaghetti and couldn't believe how good it was. The shrimp were small and plentiful and there was no fishy taste to them. The marinara and thin noodles complemented both the taste and texture so perfectly I made a note that I would have to return sometime in the future.

Mom was mostly silent as we talked, but she jovially joined in the conversation. It still seemed like this was her "professional" face, the one where she focused on the desires and needs of the client and her own feelings and mood had nothing to do with it. Just an hour ago she seemed fine. What happened? 

I found out soon enough. After dinner we went back to the apartment and I placed both of the leftovers from their dinners, and the breadsticks into the refrigerator. "Why don't we change?" mom said, "There's something I want to talk to you about." She didn't say another word as she went to Stacy's room and closed the door.

Stacy looked at me with a look of confusion. I just shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. "What's going on?" asked my sister.

"I have no idea. She was fine before dinner, but then she seemed worried about something. Do you think she talked to dad and heard something she needs to tell us?"

"I don't know, T. I'm a little worried now."

I went to my room to change and mulled over what could be going on. When I was finished changing into my shorts and t-shirt, I came back out and mom was there alone, sitting at the table chewing her thumbnail. Her brow was furrowed and she had puppy dog eyes. When she saw me, she stopped chewing and crossed her arms across her chest while faking a smile.

"Mom, are you okay?"

"Um...yeah...I...could you get us some water, please?"

"Yeah, sure." I went to the fridge and got out three bottles of water and carried them to the table before opening them up. I handed one to mom, who sat at the head of the table, then set one in front of the chair at one side for Stacy, and I sat down in the chair opposite that one, to mom's right. I didn't say anything else and just sat there looking at the grain on the table, bumping my water bottle back and forth between my thumb and forefinger, letting it travel nearly a full inch before knocking it back with the other finger. If mom was irritated by this, she didn't say anything.

I didn't know why it took Stacy six hours to change clothes, but it did. Or maybe not, according the clock, but it sure seemed like a lot longer than the eight minutes the oven clock said. I made a note to remind myself to call the landlord and have him check that clock. As soon as Stacy's door opened, mom straightened up in her chair and took a sip of her water. Stacy looked worried as she slid into the chair across from me, giving me a quick sideways glance before looking back at mom.

Mom took another sip of her water before clearing her throat. She took a deep breath and looked at the table as she asked, "I don't know how to say this, so I'll just say it. Have you two been sharing a bed here?"

Damn that shrimp! No one bothered to warn me that an hour after dinner they would join forces to conspire against me, but they did. They all unified like some giant seafood Voltron, becoming a fierce warrior trying to burst out of my stomach by any means necessary. I didn't remember swallowing tiny torches and pitchforks, but a revolt was under way.

"Mom..." Stacy said, glancing at me wide-eyed.

"Yes or no. Thomas?"

"No, mom! Why...what are you talking about?"

She got up and walked to the hall closet, opening it and pulling out a package of sheets before coming back and dropping it on the table.




Stacy King and I Ch. 06



Shit! I thought. Shitshitshit!

"Stacy," she said, sitting back down and looking directly at her. "Either you have developed a new habit in England that is both impressive and extraneous, you've been sleeping on the couch unnecessarily for a month, or you're lying. Which is it?"

"Okay. Mom..." I started.

"Thomas!" She gave me a stern look. "I'm talking to your sister!" She turned back to Stacy and Stacy's eyes were red and welling up with tears. Knowing Stacy, it wasn't guilt over what we had been doing. She had come to terms with that. It was disappointing mom. "Stacy? Do you have something to tell me?"

"Mom! Stop!" I demanded. "What are you talking about?"

"I know what sex smells like! Thomas, your room reeks of it! That means that it has been happening a lot and recently! It kind of threw me off, but all day you never mentioned a girlfriend and you haven't mentioned one any time that we've talked. When Stacy offered to let me stay in her room it's because her sheets are clean. But what you must have forgotten, Stacy, is that your sheets are still creased straight out of the package. Your pillow case and sheets look like they were just taken out of the package. 

"I thought it was strange, but figured that you had been using one set and just put out your new set today. When I went to get a towel this afternoon, however, I saw this package" pointing to the one she had dropped on the table, "unopened. That means that either you have never slept on those sheets or that every time you wash them, you iron the creases back in just as they were right out of the package, which is a stupid thought, but the only other one I could think of. Or you have been sleeping on the couch this whole time, which is, again, stupid."

She sighed and dropped her head into her hands with her elbows rested on the table.

I was speechless. Our mom was Sherlock Holmes. How could we have been so stupid? Why didn't we think about this stuff? The shrimp were no longer a threat to me. They were being squeezed into a space so small they couldn't move as my stomach twisted into a monkey fist. Looking at Stacy I saw that the tears were rolling down her face and her nose and eyes were completely red. Her mouth was moving like she was trying to say something, but no words were coming out. Finally she squeaked out two words.

"I'm sorry." It was broken and barely audible.

Mom looked up at her and her own eyes were red. "Stacy."

"It's my fault, mom!" I blurted out.

Stacy whipped her head at me, but mom is the one who immediately responded. "No, Thomas. It isn't. I should have seen this coming. On the one hand I'm not surprised, but on the other...You're a brother and a sister. These things don't....shouldn't....what am I supposed to do?" She was crying as she asked. Not bawling or sobbing, but crying nonetheless.

"Mom, if you're going to blame anyone, blame me," Stacy begged. "This started with me."

"Quiet! Both of you!"

We both settled down so she could speak. The knot in my stomach didn't go away, but I knew I wanted to hear what she had to say. 

Another sigh from mom. "I've seen this coming for a long time and hoped it would never happen. We've had suspicions about a crush for several years, right about the time Stacy hit eighth grade. And we've noticed, Thomas, that you didn't do anything to curb it, but in fact encouraged it, even if unwittingly. Just to be clear, we're not really blaming either of you for the crush. These things happen and they aren't unusual. It starts off as a protective relationship but sometimes feelings get fuzzy and the lines blur. We were just hoping it would pass. In fact..." she cleared her throat again, "that's a lot of the reason we allowed you to go to England. We thought some time apart would do you both some good."

"It sounds like Dad knows, too. You're using 'we' a lot," I said.

"Well, your father picked up on the crush, but he never indicated the depth of concern I have and I've never pushed it. I don't know that he thinks anything is going on. Honestly, it didn't occur to me really until I got here and saw the sheets and picked up on the scent, so to speak." She looked back and forth between us and smiled a little. She wasn't approving, just smirking at her own witticism. But it lightened the mood just a little.

"I'm sorry, mom," I said. "It just sort of happened. I don't want to cause any family problems. If you want, I'll back off."

"No you won't!" Stacy yelled. Mom and I both jumped at her sudden assertiveness. "Mom, this wasn't Thomas. This was both of us. We're both adults and we've talked about this a lot since I've been here. Yeah, it started out suddenly and kind of unexpectedly, but the feelings have been there for a long time, and that's NOT sudden. But it IS mutual. So, I'm sorry, Thomas, but just because mom wants you to back off, doesn't mean that you get out that easy. I love you and I know you love me." She turned back to mom and said, "I'm sorry, too, mom, that we lied to you guys, but I don't plan on stopping. And if you force me to choose, I'll choose Thomas." She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair as if daring mom to argue with her.

"No one said anything about making you stop or kicking you out of the family, so calm down. I had a feeling this wasn't a decision you made without weighing it out. I know you both better than that. So the question is, where do we go from here?"

We all sat quietly for a few minutes, no one knowing what to say.

"Can I tell you how we're handling it here for now?" I asked.

"Okay."

"Right now, since we both have different last names, we are treating each other like boyfriend and girlfriend and no one seems to have picked up on it. We're being very careful, mom, I promise."

"Well, that's good. For here. But people back home know you are family. And it's also only been about a month. Do you really think you'll be able to keep that up for the rest of your lives? Is that a secret you want to keep forever?"

"Yes, mom, it is," Stacy retorted confidently. "At least until society understands our love better and accepts it."

"Sweetie, that may never happen," mom said.

"I know that, mom." Stacy seemed more relaxed now, resigned to that reality. She reached out and took mom's hand and looked at me. "But we really are in love. Apart from the fact that T. is my brother, is there any reason why you wouldn't want me to be with someone like him?"

Mom just sighed and shook her head. 

Again we sat in silence for a couple of minutes. I reached out and took mom's other hand. She squeezed it briefly and looked at me with a mix of love and sorrow, then looked at Stacy. Stacy's eyes were tearing up again and soon enough, so were mom's.

"Mom," I asked, "would it make you feel better if we came up with some kind of agreement? Like rules for the relationship or something?" I looked back and forth at her and at Stacy. They both nodded and we began discussing how to handle our relationship and the limits we would place on it. For nearly two hours we went back and forth, even going so far as to write down a listing of rules and signing three different copies, one for each of us. While we agreed that the list could be changed or added to as necessary, and only by the agreement of all three of us, the initial draft included the following limitations:

1.We were to keep either our blood relationship or our romantic relationship secret, depending on who we were around at the time. 2.We were not to conceive children until it was agreed on by all three. This means that we are to take the necessary precautions to avoid it. 3.Our education was not to be influenced by the whims or desires of the other person in the relationship, but we were to continue to individually pursue our own goals and career paths. 4.If family members or friends were to find out about the romantic relationship, we are to deny that our mother has any knowledge and are to take full responsibility.

Obviously the list was simple, but we thought it would cover everything in a broad but appropriate way. The important things were addressed anyway and we all understood the necessity of drawing boundaries around the relationship.

Feeling a little better, we decided to turn in for the night. As we walked to our rooms, mom stopped at the closet and got out the sheet, blanket and pillow for the couch and turned around to hand it to Stacy. "Just because I know doesn't mean I want it to happen while I'm here. Unspoken rule 5." Stacy nodded and took the bedclothes before setting up the couch for the night. We each took turns using the bathroom and brushing our teeth before turning in for the night.

I could hardly sleep and lay there staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. In reality it was less than one. I wondered if Stacy was lying awake like I was. Or mom. My mind went back to Stacy and spent most of its time there. While I was plenty concerned about my mom and was emotionally worn out from the day, my heart, brain, and penis kept revisiting my sister. I was flooded with memories of our times together and willingly accessed some of my favorite clips from the highlight reel.

My erection came to full strength as I recalled one of our most passionate times of lovemaking. The sounds and sights and even the smells came flooding into my memory. My hand idly stroked my erection as I recalled my sister slowly lowering her pussy over my mouth as she stroked my cock before engulfing me in the warmth of her mouth. I remembered the image of her lips spread open before me like a flower. As my arms were wrapped under her thighs and my hands gripping her ass, I was able to pull her open even further and she shuddered as I did. I remembered her moaning around my shaft while she quivered above me. I recalled her hips thrusting forward, reluctantly breaking contact with my tongue. Her lips were soft, so soft, and pink. Her landing strip tickled my chin and I especially remember the irritation on the bottom of my tongue as I curled it over my bottom teeth to bury myself in her vaginal canal. 

She tasted so rich. Slightly salty. Musky. I loved it. I knew what mom meant when she said my room smelled like sex. I loved that smell. I have been hesitant to wash it off after my sister makes love to me, but I have done so grudgingly each morning. Soon the image in my head flashed to my sister riding on top of me, gently, slowly, the heat of her pussy swallowing me as she reached behind her to stroke my balls with her fingertips. Her tits were thrust forward as her back arched so she could reach back. Her other hand grabbed her own breast and pulled her nipple. She moaned as she alternated between closing her eyes and gazing into mine.

She felt amazing as she ground her cervix on my cockhead. It was smooth and rolled over me, sending a shock down through the shaft and balls with each pass. As she rose up the feeling of her muscles grabbing me until the ridge of my helmet grazed her walls, was excruciating in its pleasure. It took all I had not to thrust into her with all I had, but as soon as I was exposed to the cool air, she lowered herself again until I was completely buried. Never picking up the pace, she slowly worked us both toward the edge. She had become a very skilled lover, not just passionate and receptive of my drive into her, but taking charge of her own pleasure as well as working to ensure mine.

Fuck! I thought. This isn't going to cut it. I wondered if I could lure Stacy into the bathroom without waking mom up or making her suspicious. Should I rub one out and play it safe or take the risk? On the upside, mom knows so even if we get caught, she would be mad, but I believed the worst was over. On the downside, she had just made her wishes known and we had agreed to it. Breaking our agreement within just a few hours would be almost unforgivable.

Before I knew it, however, I was up and pulling my shorts on. Okay, then, I guess I'm going for it. I opened the door gently and slowly, just checking for light. None except the parking lot light coming in, filtered through the vertical blinds over the sliding glass doors. I silently padded into the living room and as soon as I rounded the corner, Stacy sat up and threw the blanket off. She stood up and approached me, taking my hand and we quickly went into the bathroom and turned on the light. This way if mom got up and checked the couch and found Stacy missing, she would knock on the bathroom door and Stacy could answer.

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Stacy was on me, her tongue in my mouth. She pulled back after a moment and breathed out, "Thank god! My hand wasn't cutting it." She raised her hand to my face and I took her fingers into my mouth, tasting that all-too-familiar flavor of her arousal. She breathed heavily as I looked into her eyes and sucked all the taste off her fingers. My own hand searched out her nipple as I pulled her against me, her crotch grinding against my almost painful erection.

"We have to be quick. And quiet. Are you going to be all right with getting straight to business?"

"I've been warming up for an hour. Take what you want." She pushed her boxer shorts down, exposing her thong and then pressed that down as well before pulling the front of her tank top up over her breasts. She turned around and placed her hands on the counter, sticking her ass out at me. I put my foot on her panties around her lower legs and stepped on them, driving them down and pinning them to the floor as Stacy pulled her feet free from the boxers and panties and I reached down to pick up her thong. While I was down there I couldn't help but give her cunt a quick lick, causing her to shudder and force back a moan.

"Don't surprise me like that," she whispered. "You'll make me wake up mom." She was smiling, but because of the pleasure, not the thought of waking up our mother.

"Sorry," I smiled back. "You know I can't help it." I was pulling down my shorts as I said it.

"I know. Now shut up and stick that cock in me."

"First," I said, "Insurance." I held up the thong and she got a wicked smile on her face and nodded. She opened her mouth and I stuck the panties inside to act as a muffle. Stacy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "You like that?" I asked. She nodded wildly before turning back toward the mirror and again sticking her ass back out.

With one hand I grabbed myself and with the other I grabbed her hip. I rubbed the tip up and down to lubricate it and make sure my aim was good and then shoved myself in all the way to the root. It's a good thing she had panties in her mouth. As soon as I slammed in, the slap of my thighs onto hers forced me to withdraw so I could pull my boxers back up and stick my dick out the fly. The shorts prevented our skin from slapping, but allowed for full penetration. For the next couple minutes I watched in the mirror as my sister's eyes stayed clamped shut, her teeth biting down on a small exposed piece of pale pink satin. I could see her tits bob with every thrust and I had to hold my own groanings in. Every time I thrust into her, both of us had breath forced out through our nostrils. Me by the effort of my thrusting, hers by the impact and her own pleasure. 

Soon enough, her hand was on her clit, rubbing as I drilled her. As soon as she climaxed, it forced my own and I pulled out. She knew what this meant and pulled the panties from her mouth as she spun around and dropped to her knees. Immediately she buried me in her mouth and stroked me with her hand, taking the load that I pumped into her. It was hard to stay quiet, but we did well. 

As soon as she sucked me dry, she put her panties and shorts back on and I pulled mine up. Stacy turned on the water to rinse her mouth. As she was rinsing out her mouth, mom knocked on the door. "Stacy, are you all right?" We both looked at each other and I ducked behind the cloth curtain and sat in the tub as Stacy spit into the sink.

"I don't feel good," she moaned convincingly. 

"Can I come in?"

"Hang ouUUUGHH!" I heard the toilet lid smack into the tank followed by my sister vomiting into the toilet.

Holy shit! I thought. 

I heard the lock pop as she turned the knob to let mom in. "I don't know if it was supper or stress or both, but my stomach is turning and I'm hot."

"I'm sorry, baby. Can I do anything?"

"Can you make me a soda to settle my stomach? And...I hate to ask, but I wet myself a little bit when I threw up. Can you get me some clean underwear and shorts, please?"

"Sure, baby. Just relax. Here," I heard the cabinet close and the running water disturbed for a moment before mom continued, "Keep this on your neck to cool down. I'll be right back."

The curtain pulled back a moment later and Stacy helped me up. She mouthed "Sorry" with an embarrassed smile before pushing me out of the bathroom. I ducked into my room while mom was in the kitchen stirring the carbonation out of a coke, the spoon striking the edges of the glass in a steady clank clank clank. I changed my shorts in a flash, knowing that Stacy's juices had soaked the front of my other ones.

Acting sleepy I opened the door of my room and walked to the bathroom. "Stacy, are you okay?" I had a smile on my face since I was in the bathroom out of mom's sight and Stacy had to stifle a laugh "Fuck you" she mouthed as she gave me the finger. As soon as I walked in I knew why she puked for real instead of just flushing the toilet as part of the act. All I smelled was half-digested garlic butter. Well-played, little sister. Well-played.

"Are you feeling okay, Thomas? I don't think that dinner sat well with your sister." She handed Stacy the glass of flat Coke and Stacy thanked her in her "sick" voice. This Coke thing was something that mom had always done for us and it was supposed to settle our stomachs when we were sick, but we don't know if it actually worked or not. I never noticed a difference. It served as a nice distraction tonight, though.

"I feel okay. But we had different meals, so..." I just shrugged. "Can I do anything to help?"

"I don't think so. I'll just get her cleaned up and get her back to the couch. Go on back to bed."

"Okay, if you're sure." They both nodded and we said our goodnights before I went back to my room and closed the door. Finally I could sleep. The pressure in my balls was gone and Stacy apparently had mom under control. I listened to them talk for a few more minutes before I finally heard the door to Stacy's room close and it was quiet again. In a few minutes I was asleep.

My alarm buzzed at 6am. We had a trade show to get to. I pulled my shorts and t-shirt back on and walked out to the living room to get Stacy up. I knocked on Stacy's door to wake up mom, but she opened the door and said, "I've been up for a little while. Thank you, though," and kissed me on the cheek. I walked to the living room and found Stacy sprawled out on the couch, half a glass of flat Coke on the end table by her head and a gray plastic hospital basin and dark green washcloth on the floor in front of the couch. 

I sat on the edge of the couch by her waist and brushed her nest of hair back over her ear and quietly muttered, "Stacy?" She stirred a little bit, but not much. "Hey, babe? It's time to get up and get ready." I was a little louder that time and her eyes opened and focused on me as she smiled, bringing her hand up to touch my face.

"Hey," she croaked. 

"How you feeling?"

"Better, now that you're here." I smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "Help me up," she requested as I stood up so she could put her feet on the floor. She still looked sexy in the mornings. Her hair was a mess and she was wearing those boxers and a tight white tank with no bra. I gave her a hug and she returned it. "Hey, mom," she said and I turned around to see our mother standing there with a gentle smile.




Stacy King and I Ch. 06



"I may not like it, but I can't deny that you two love each other. If you're going to do this, make sure you never lose that love. Always hold onto that heart for each other and that focus on meeting each other's needs. That applies to whoever you end up with, not just each other. But if this," she raised her arms toward us, "is your future, you have to work at it even harder, more diligently, because if it ever ends, you lose more than a romantic relationship. You lose your best friend. You lose your sibling."

"We know, mom," Stacy said. I nodded.

"I know you do, sweetie." Mom's eyes started to tear up. "But it's still new to me and will take some time to work through." She walked toward us. "It's not that I don't love you, both of you. You know I do. And anyone would be lucky to have either one of you. You're incredibly beautiful, talented, compassionate young people. It's just hard to accept, you know?" She started crying more now. Stacy let go of me and stepped toward mom to hold her as she cried. My own feelings of guilt and confusion returned, but I knew they would pass as they had before. Stacy and I were in love and we were best friends and we had denied ourselves the relationship for years before we finally got together. People were just going to have to understand that, or get over it if they didn't.

After a few moments, mom backed up out of Stacy's arms and said, "I'm sorry." Stacy shook her head in sympathy at that. "I just love you both so much and I don't want anything to come between all of us." She was wiping the tears from her cheeks as she spoke. She cleared her throat and looked at us, saying, "Your father must never find out about this. He would be devastated."

"We'll make sure, mom," Stacy said. "And we'll try not to put you in any awkward situations."

"I know you wouldn't do that. For now," mom cleared her throat and lifted her chin, "We have a trade show to get to, so let's get moving." She smiled and kissed us each on the cheek before retreating to Stacy's room to get ready.

We were on the road by 8 a.m., following mom down to the convention center. Before we left town we stopped and grabbed a quick breakfast at a local fast food place and ate it on the way down. Because it was early Saturday morning the traffic into Atlanta wasn't too heavy and we made good time. The trade show opened at 10 and we arrived a little before that. When we arrived at the booth, dad greeted us with big hugs and a lot of excitement. He kissed mom, patted her butt and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle. It made me feel good to see that. They had always flirted back and forth and when we were younger it was embarrassing and frankly, a little gross. Now that we were adults we had expressed to each other that we found their open romance oddly comforting.

"Hey! Before I forget!" Dad reached into a large blue plastic tub in the corner and pulled out two small boxes, looking to read the ends of each box before handing them to us. I turned the box and on the end was attached a Kitchen King business card with my name on it and the word "apprentice" printed underneath as my title.

"Business cards?" Stacy asked excitedly. "Thanks, dad!" She threw her arms around his neck and raised up on her tiptoes to reach. He had to bend down a little because he's pretty tall compared to us. After she kissed him on the cheek, his face lit up like he had given her the world. Stacy had a tendency to make people feel that way, always appreciative for even the smallest effort or gift. I hugged him as well, expressing my appreciation before Stacy turned to me and said, "I've never had business cards before. I feel so official."

"Well, you are official," dad replied. Now each of you has 500 cards and I expect some of those gone by the time you leave here at 6 tonight. Any time you meet someone you give them your card and tell them if there is any way you can help them, you'll do whatever you can. Today you start learning about networking."

"Your job today," mom continued, "is simply to meet people. Go and see what they have available and how they do things. What do they say that makes you feel welcome? How do they treat you? How do they display their products? What do they do that pushes you back or throws up red flags? All that stuff. And feel free to sign up for free giveaways. Anything you win is yours to keep and some of the giveaways are pretty good."

Dad jumped in. "If you shake a hand, that hand gets a card before you leave. When someone introduces himself, say 'Thomas Hunter, Kitchen King.' Or obviously, 'Stacy King, Kitchen King.' Even if you're not interested in what they're selling, act interested. You'd be surprised how much business we get from referrals because another company liked our people."

"Act professionally," mom said. "No one knows you're our family or are each other's family. Today you're employees of Kitchen King, so act like it."

"We will, mom," Stacy said.

"I know you will. Now, they'll close the hall from 12-2 for lunch, so you have two hours to meet some people and then you'll be back out there this afternoon. So get going."

"Make us proud!" dad yelled as we walked toward the booth next to ours and introduced ourselves to a flooring rep named Martin. For the next two hours Stacy really turned on the charm, doing most of the talking and a little flirting before an announcement came on saying that the hall would be closing in ten minutes. We talked about things over lunch with mom and dad and surprisingly really enjoyed ourselves. That afternoon we went back out and had met people from cabinet makers, countertop manufacturers, plumbing, flooring, decking, and tons of companies you wouldn't even think would belong there, but they were. Our cards had been dropped in countless jars and were placed in several hands over the course of the day. By the time 6 o'clock rolled around I was beat. Stacy shared the same sentiment.

We helped mom and dad pack up and they invited us to dinner. Over dinner they asked us what we thought and we shared back and forth, picking up advice and telling about the good contacts and the not-so-good experiences we had. They expressed their genuine appreciation for our willingness to come and to help out and their pride in our increasing maturity and networking skills. After dinner we announced our exhaustion and need to go home since we had such a long drive. 

Dad gave us each a hug and again told us how proud he was. Mom gave Stacy a hug and whispered something in her ear, then gave me a hug and whispered, "I love you very much. Remember what we talked about." Before pulling away, she kissed my cheek as I said, "I love you, too, mom. Thanks for everything."

I opened Stacy's door for her and closed it behind her before climbing in for the drive home. Stacy immediately laid her head back on the headrest and sighed.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Tired."

"Me, too."

"And horny."

"Yeah," I laughed. "Me, too."

"God, I can't wait to get home and get our bed back."

"Neither can I. You have no idea how badly I wanted to find a hiding place so I could drill into you today. I've been hard off and on all day. I have a serious case of blue balls."

"Awww," she laughed, "I'm sorry."

"Shut up," I laughed, shaking my head. She laughed again.

After a minute Stacy reached into her purse and pulled out her smartphone. Her fingers were a blur and her face was blue from the bright light on her screen in the dark car. I assumed she was checking her e-mail or replying to missed texts until she said, "Take 285 north."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it. I need to take care of something."

"Is this going to take long?"

"Probably."

I rolled my eyes and kept driving. We talked about dumb stuff like usual, the local country station playing in the background. When we got to 285 I took the exit ramp and then she looked at her phone and said, "Follow it to 75." I knew her well enough to know she wasn't going to give me any additional information so I didn't even bother asking. She told me the gossip and funny stories from school and continued telling me stories from her time abroad as they were somehow connected, albeit loosely, in her brain. Again, her laugh was infectious and did my heart good.

Following her directions I got off on 75 and the next exit was only a couple miles ahead. She directed me to turn, turn again and pointed to the entrance of a short brick tower about 5 stories tall. I gave her a funny look when I read that it was a hotel. The building was beautiful and we took the curving driveway up toward the building, Stacy smiling as she looked at it. Every window had an iron rail like it was supposed to be a balcony and on each side of every window was a black shutter.

"Drop me off and park the car," she said, gathering her purse. I dropped her off under the overhang at the front entrance and she practically jumped out the car and walked quickly toward the front sliding glass door. I pulled ahead and found a parking spot on the side of the building and had to walk back toward the front. On the lower level, I noticed, there were trellises that had blossoming vines climbing it and it looked pretty nice. The building was illuminated by floodlights buried behind the brick wall of the planters, shining up along the pink brick.

When I approached the front doors, they opened for me and I was suddenly surrounded by marbled tile, iron and brass. Stacy had her back to me, standing at the front desk on the other end of the lobby. I looked up and saw iron railings and balconies all the way up on every side and behind each rail was a French door, presumably opening to a room. The ceiling was frosted glass and pointed and I was expecting an action hero or villain to come crashing through at any moment. Off to my left was a dining area with small tables and two ornate iron chairs at each one. In the corner was a gazebo with a four-piece white drum set resting on the back portion of the raised platform.

As I approached the front desk, I heard Stacy's voice as she talked with the desk attendant.

"Yes, ma'am. That's right. It's all included in your package."

"Great. Thank you so much. I really appreciate you working with me with such short notice."

"No, ma'am. We appreciate you choosing to stay with us tonight. Now, if you will sign here while I make your keys, please." Stacy signed a sheet of paper and as I leaned over to see what it said, she turned her back to me and hunched her shoulders, hiding it from me before turning it over and sliding it across the solid black desktop. The attendant pulled it over the edge and handed her two card keys with a picture of the hotel on the front. "Breakfast is at 9 and checkout is at 11. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes. Could we please get a late checkout, and we'll need two emergency kits please."

"Absolutely." He began typing into his computer and within a few seconds he looked at us and said, "You're all set." He then went behind a wall and returned with two plastic bags, one black with a gold hotel logo and one gold with a black hotel logo. He handed me the black one and Stacy the gold one.

"Thank you," Stacy said with her charming smile.

"It's my honor. Will there be anything else?"

"I don't think so."

"If you change your mind, don't hesitate to call. Your tray will be up within the hour."

"Okay. Thanks again." Stacy waved and turned to me, tucking her hand in my elbow and smiling as big as I'd ever seen, almost like she couldn't contain it. "Let's go."

I was speechless, but had so many questions. Stacy led me around the corner to the glass elevator that reminded me of the one from Willy Wonka, which would explain the glass ceiling. Once we were inside, Stacy pressed "3" and turned to look out the windows as we glided upward. 

"Stacy, how much did this cost?" I asked, a mixture of concern and awe in my heart.

She never even turned from the window. "Less than you're worth."

A lump suddenly formed in my throat. "I love you, Stace."

This time she turned. "I know you do. And this is a way I can show you how much I love you. I'm taking care of everything. Just relax and enjoy me." She smiled at me before stepping in to kiss me gently and briefly on the lips. The bell rang and the door opened to a railed, carpeted sidewalk which led straight ahead. We could see the balconies and French doors spreading out on either side, but there was only one door we could take, a white paneled door straight ahead. The only thing breaking the theme was the large metal button with the blue wheelchair on it, sticking out of the wall by the door.

I reached for the large brass handled and pulled the lighter-than-it-looked door open and we continued forward until the hall dead ended about 25 feet ahead. Stacy quickly studied the brass plaque with room numbers and pointed right. Soon enough she said, "317. This is us." She swiped her card and the lock clicked, so I turned the knob and pushed forward to let Stacy in and I followed close behind. 

"Oh my god, T. Look at this." She sounded like she was in awe. In some ways it looked like standard hotel fare: a bed, a long dresser with a swivel television, a two person breakfast table, a short couch, and a bathroom. In other ways, however, it was quite different. Everything was nicer than the places we had usually stayed, typically for family trips growing up, so it made sense. The furniture had a more ornate quality. The furniture was cherry and the shaping had more detail of swirls and loops and curls. While the chairs matched the ones in the dining area downstairs, they were softer somehow, more suited to the room. The bed looked plush and the white covering looked like a cloud. Laid out on the bed were two thick white robes with the hotel logo on the left chest.

Stacy had apparently wandered into the bathroom because I heard bath water running. "Okay, T. Decision time!" she called before walking out with a smile. She had each hand wrapped around a small bottle, which was only apparent because the threaded lip was sticking up out of her fist. "Close your eyes." I closed them. "Tell me which one you like better. Do you like the smell of this one?" I inhaled and smelled a soft flowery scent, but nothing heavy. "Or this one?" I inhaled again and smelled fruit of some kind. I tried to imagine them more subdued and muted rather than concentrated in the bottle.

"The first one," I said and opened my eyes. She smelled it and said, "Mmmm, good choice." As she walked back into the bathroom, she yelled back, "Get undressed and put on the robe. Someone will be here in a little while to get our laundry."

"Laundry?" I asked.

"We've been wearing these clothes all day, and I don't want to put dirty underwear back on. I've been leaking in them all day while I thought of you." 

"Damn, Stace." I muttered. I doubt she could hear me over the water, but I doubt she cared if she got a verbal response. She knew me well enough to know I was responding anyway. I quickly undressed and put on the robe as she requested before bringing the robe and bag in to the bathroom. Stacy was already undressed and was sliding her royal blue panties down as I walked in. She was sideways to me and her ass was rounded, her legs mostly straight and her heavy breasts hanging free. She turned her head to look at me and smiled.

"See something you like?" she teased.

"I see lots of stuff I like."

She stood up and faced me, one hand on her hip, the other she gently rubbed back and forth across her upper chest. Her head was tilted slightly to the side. "Be more specific."

"The list would be shorter if I said what I didn't like."

"Hmm. Okay. What don't you like?" She had a weak smile, teasing me.

"Not a damn thing."

"Really? You can't think of anything you don't like about this?"

"Only being this far away from you."

"Mmm. Tell you what." She turned away and placed one hand on the bath handle and began stepping into the tub as she looked at me over her shoulder. "You wait there for room service, and I'll just wait for you in here." Damn, she looked amazing lowering herself into that tub. She moaned as she slowly lowered past the bubbles. Without even looking she said, "Don't be too long. I need someone to wash my back." She settled back with her head against the edge of the tub and her eyes closed.

Where the hell is that room service? I thought. My sis...girlfriend is in the tub naked and waiting for me and I've been out here for...I checked my watch...fourteen minutes waiting for...

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! "Room service!" If the hotel room dash was an Olympic sport I would be wearing a gold medal and standing on a podium right now. I had never moved so fast in my life. As soon as the door opened I saw a young man there in a white shirt and black necktie, a cart with a white table cloth and variety of fruit, cheese, and bottle of something (I guessed champagne) in a silver bucket. There were two champagne flutes between the tray and the bucket.

"Thank you," I said as calmly as possible. "Oh, yeah. Here you go." I handed him the bag with our laundry in it before handing him a ten dollar bill (is that what you tip in a place like this? I don't know. But it's what he got.) He graciously accepted with a nod of his head.

"Thank you, sir. Just leave the cart in the hallway and enjoy your evening." He turned away and I closed the door.

"What's all this?" I called out.

"It's our romance package. Well, part of it. Now get undressed and get in this tub!"

I quickly joined her in the bathroom and when she opened her eyes she saw my erection pointing straight out.

"Now that's what I've been waiting for. Get in here." She leaned forward and I slid in behind her, the head of my prick grazing along her back, causing her to shudder and giggle. She settled back against my chest and my arms immediately settled on her waist. This tub was a huge soaker tub which we weren't used to and we enjoyed it. While it was a jetted tub, Stacy apparently wanted a bubble bath tonight instead, and who was I to complain?

I began to gently stroke her skin, from her shoulders and neck, down her arms and sides. Naturally I wrapped around and caressed her breasts. Her nipples were already hard. Maybe they've been hard for a long time, or maybe just at my touch. Either way, I was enjoying it. She moaned and placed her hand on mine, her other hand likely stroking herself as she became aroused. She began writhing a little bit, her hips rotating. I placed my fingers on her chin and turned her face more toward me and leaned in to kiss her. 

We kissed passionately for several minutes. Sometimes she would take a break to relax her neck and I would kiss and nibble along her neck, shoulder, and ear, keeping her fire going. Soon enough she would come back for more. Fortunately for both of us, we both liked to kiss. A lot of our lovemaking times started out with an intent just to kiss. Sometimes she would walk up to me while I was on the couch working on school work and she would pick up my laptop, placing it on the ottoman before straddling my waist and kissing me. Very rarely did we ever JUST kiss. If we did it was due to an outside circumstance: our environment or somebody walking up. Sometimes we would just kiss to keep the fire going until we could be together that night or after school. So, yeah, we loved to kiss.

After a few minutes I couldn't take it anymore and told her I had to taste her. She moaned and kneeled before taking a seat on the wide corner ledge of the tub. She placed one foot on the side of the tub and one on my shoulder. I looked into her heated eyes as I wiped away the froth of bubbles that had traveled with her as she made her way out of the water. I leaned in and began licking around her labia, one hand stroking myself and the other squeezing her inner thigh. This kept her from sliding back into the tub and getting hurt as she writhed on the slippery surface and pressed her back against the wall. 




Stacy King and I Ch. 07



The directory just inside the door of the mall was partially obscured by my sister's form as she searched the store listings. Her finger pinned to the map, she turned around and gave me a huge smile, her ponytail flopping back over her shoulder.

"Here it is," she said. "219. Let's go." I looked at where her finger was pointing to a large yellow square on the mall diagram and quickly noted its placement compared to our current location. Stacy apparently had more confidence that we would find it because she quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me away before settling into a leisurely stroll toward the escalator, holding my hand. Occasionally she would stop at a window to point something out to me, even once stopping at the tattoo/piercing studio to watch someone get some ink colored in on his back.

Without looking at me, she mumbled to herself, "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to get my hood or nipples pierced. Just imagining the sexual pleasure of your touch and the sight of your arousal at seeing my body pierced with jewelry. I sometimes think about you grabbing a ring with your teeth before pulling it away, watching my nipple extend." She sighed and closed her eyes. After a moment, she snapped her eyes open and quickly shook her head as she blurted out, "But then I'm afraid a piercing would hurt too much." She looked at me sideways, arching her eyebrow afterward and laughed a little at my expression. Just the image of Stacy having pierced nipples or a pierced clitoral hood sent my brain into overdrive. "Okay," she said, "Keep it moving," as she pulled on my hand and continued on toward 219.

We rounded a corner toward one of the large department stores that anchored the mall and my sister craned her neck to find the store she was looking for.

"Ah," she said, "There it is." She squeezed my hand and gave me a big smile. She looked back toward the store and I craned my neck to see it. Above the wide entrance was a sign in red letters in a classically styled font that read, "Back to Eden." The store was large enough that it took the space of one of the other larger specialty stores, or two to three spaces of smaller stores that surrounded it. In the front windows on either side of the wide entrance were about six plain white mannequins, headless, wearing more conservative lingerie in various styles and colors. I could not see into the store because there was a large black center wall a few feet inside that was covered with current offerings and sales displays. They were already gearing up for Christmas, so most of the posters were black and white with only the red Santa-themed lingerie colored, or the gold trim of the angel-themed lingerie highlighted. It was very classy, but I couldn't help but wonder what was behind that wall. I wouldn't get a chance to find out.

"Give me your wallet," Stacy said.

"What?" 

"Your wallet. Give it to me. This is your treat, remember?" She held her hand out flat and when I just stood there for a few seconds, she snapped her fingers and made the "come on, give it to me" motion with her fingers, all the while standing there with a smirk.

I sighed and shook my head while I dug my wallet out of my front pocket and slapped it into her palm. 

"Thank you," she chirped, her voice raising a full octave on "you". She flipped open the money clip and gave the cash back to me and said, "Wait here." She turned and walked into the entrance, turning right to go around the large wall. A couple of minutes later, she came back to the front, accompanied by a beautiful blonde dressed in a dark skirt and red satin shirt, a gold name tag on her left breast.

"See?" Stacy said, "That's Thomas Hunter," and she showed the woman my driver's license and credit card. "He knows I have his wallet and he is treating me to a few gifts." She raised her voice to be sure I heard. "Right, T? This is yours and you're paying for this?"

"Yes," I waved awkwardly. "She's with me."

"Okay, thank you," said the blonde. "Any limit?"

I looked at Stacy and she shook her head no and called out, "Trust me."

"No," I called back. "Whatever she wants." Stacy smiled and waved.

"Okay," the blonde smiled, "If that's what you want." She made it sound like this was going to cost me. But I trusted Stacy and knew that she would be reasonable. The blonde waved and touched Stacy's arm, saying something and they both giggled. The blonde turned to go back into the store. Stacy turned to follow her, but shouted as she walked.

"Okay, babe," she called, "Go get yourself some pretzel bites. One hour. I love you." She blew me a kiss, which I returned, before she disappeared behind the display window.

There I was in the mall, all alone. I quickly decided that some pretzel bites would be good, so I walked down the stairs and stopped at the closest pretzel stand, choosing a cup of the classic salted bites and a coke before wandering around the mall for a few minutes. I loved to watch people. Not being much of a shopper, I mostly just looked around, dipping into the video game store and the "adult humor and novelty" shop that every mall seemed to have. Oh, and I also had to politely, yet firmly, turn away salesmen at the center kiosks, asking about my cell phone service and trying to sell me skin cream made with Dead Sea salts.

A few minutes into my stroll my phone chimed and I saw a message saying I had a media file. I opened it and it was Stacy, videoing herself with a dark purple curtain behind her. "Hey, sweetie. Just wanted to thank you and let you know I'm having a blast. I've picked a few sets to try on, but wanted to tide you over. With that, the image was shaky for a second before I saw my sister naked reflected in a full-length mirror, her phone extended out in front of her. She smiled into the mirror and ran her hands over her tits, pinching each nipple as she closed her eyes, then she ran her free hand down to her pussy and stroked it a couple of times as she said, "Shopping for you is turning me on. I'm so wet right now." With that the image shook again and again I had a close up of my sister's face. She sucked her finger and closed her eyes, letting out a soft moan. She whispered, "I taste delicious. I can't wait for you to taste me later." With that the image died.

It hadn't taken me long to swell. I was standing in the middle of the mall watching a video of my naked sister tasting her own pussy while she shopped for lingerie. I quickly typed in a text and sent it to her.

"More."

Her reply was quick and simple.

"No ; )"

Dammit! I looked at the time and had about 25 minutes to kill. I decided to replay the video, but these fucking malls don't have any place to sit with your back against the wall. I walked on and found a space that advertised a store coming soon, so there was no window. I leaned against it and replayed the video. And played it again. Then I started pausing it at certain points and just looked at my incredible sister as she stood naked, or zoomed in on her smile, or closed her eyes, pinched her nipple, stroked her cunt, or sucked her finger. I would like to think she had no idea what she was doing, but she did. I know she did.

After about ten minutes I strolled casually back to the other end of the mall to the store and waited on a bench up against the rail, checking every couple of minutes to see if Stacy was out yet. She said an hour, but she took a little longer. 

"Thomas!" she called. I looked up and walked over to her. She had two large black paper bags with red rope handles and red tissue sticking up out of the top. The store logo was printed on the bags with red foil lettering. Stacy was accompanied again by the blonde as they stood at the door. When I arrived, Stacy had a huge smile on her face.

"Have a good time?" I asked, smiling. Okay, I was excited, not just happy.

"Of course." She handed me the bags and I took them from her as the blonde spoke.

"You're a lucky man," she said, giving Stacy a wink.

"You have no idea," I replied.

"Thank you, Ms. King for your business. I hope to see you again." 

Stacy shook her hand as she said, "Thank you so much for your help, Rebecca. I'll definitely be back." Rebecca waved and turned back to the store and Stacy took my arm, leaning against me as she turned me back toward the center of the mall. When she saw me lifting a bag to try to get a hint of what lay under the tissue, she slapped my arm lightly and pointed a finger at my face. "No peeking!" She touched her lips to my ear, whispering, "Soon enough, T. Soon enough." She licked my ear briefly before backing away and continued to hug my arm as we walked. I transferred the second bag to my left hand and put my arm on Stacy's lower back as we walked.

The drive home was quiet. We had brief chats and then long periods of silence. I wasn't upset and neither was Stacy. Quite simply we were on our way home and were about to get back to "normal" life. It had been a good weekend, and last night and this morning in particular had been amazing. A lot of the silence revolved around my not knowing what to say. 

Stacy turned in her seat a little to face me. I looked over at her and smiled before turning my attention back to the road ahead.

"I love you, T," she said.

"I love you, too, Stace."

"How much?"

"More than anything."

"What are you going to do to show me how much you love me?" She had a sexiness in her voice now. It was subtle, but I picked up on it.

"You mean besides burying my face in your pussy?"

"Oh, god" she shuddered, her eyes closed.

"Well, it's kind of a toss up. After that I can't decide if I want to lick your ass or just fuck your mouth. Which do you think I should do?" I looked over at her with a straight face.

Her eyes were smoldering, but she spoke with control as if she wasn't turned on. "I don't know. Neither one of those sounds like anything that nice girls do, and I would hate for you not to respect me. Maybe we should just do blind lovemaking in the dark with the covers all the way up. Missionary style, of course."

"Oh, of course. But first I would have to ask you to remove your big cotton underwear."

"Not until you remove your tighty whities." At that she couldn't hide the smile anymore and she started laughing, which caused me to laugh.

"I have to be honest, here, Stace," I said. "I can't wait to see what you look like in your new...whatever it is you bought. I've been thinking about it all the way home."

"Good," she replied. "That's what I was hoping for. Did you like my video?" As if she had to ask. She had a huge smile as she asked.

"What the hell were you doing?" I smiled. "Were you trying to get me arrested for carrying a concealed weapon at the mall?" That got a laugh out of her and she reached over to rub my crotch. I moaned and shifted at her touch.

"Mm, still hard?" She sounded like she couldn't believe it.

"I've got a serious case of blue balls going here."

"Well, I would help you out, but I want a nice big load from you later on." I moaned and she leaned over to lick my ear before whispering, "I might even let you fuck me in the ass."

I just smiled and shook my head. She was such a temptress. She knew exactly what I wanted to hear. The other side of that, however, was that she always followed through. She wouldn't change her mind and deny me what she had offered. She had always been that way, keeping her word. She was very careful not to lie to others. If she didn't want to answer a question, she wouldn't; she didn't just make up an answer. Even in conveying our relationship, she simply introduced me as her boyfriend, which was true. At home I would be introduced as her brother, which was also true.

"Of course," she said, settling back into her seat and looking out the windshield, "You would have to satisfy me in other ways first." She mumbled almost to herself, but loud enough for me to hear, as her finger tapped at her bottom lip, her eyes squinting in thought. "I wonder if I could work three big orgasms out of him tonight."

"Damn, Stacy."

Her head turned to me and her eyebrows arched. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"I heard what you said, that's all."

"Oh." She acted embarrassed. "You heard that?" She made a pouty face. "You don't think I'm a whore now, do you? I don't think I could handle it if my brother thought of me as a cum-slut."

"Cum-slut?" I asked.

"I'm sorry. Do you like fuckhound better?"

"Well..."

She cut me off and looked back toward the road again. "I just don't want you to view me as just some whore who wants her brother to pound her in the ass with his big cock, or would be okay with him grabbing her hair and fucking her mouth. I mean, what kind of girl does that? It's one thing to want a man to be buried balls deep in my snatch, but buying trashy lingerie, talking about cumloads and asking for a good ass fucking...well, that's just crossing a line." She turned her head back to me. "Don't you think?"

My mouth was dry and my balls hurt. My dick was pinned up and to the left by my pants and seatbelt, but it was fighting hard to break through. I decided to play along.

"You know, Stacy, that kind of talk really isn't appropriate. Look at it from my angle. I mean how would you like it if I told you that I wanted to bend my sister over and drill into her cunt until she was bowlegged? What kind of man would I have to be to talk about taking a woman's head and pushing it down onto my dick until it was buried in her throat? Think about it. What would you think of a man who talked about those kinds of things?"

"That's one sick fuck," she said. "Especially if I were to find out his sister would probably be the one being skull-fucked. And it would be even worse if I were to find out that she got off on it, probably fingering herself while he rammed himself into her throat." She made a face of disgust.

"Well, we wouldn't necessarily have to blame the sister for what the brother does. I mean, let's say that she was...I don't know...lying on the floor masturbating, and he just came up and licked her ass while he oiled himself up before sliding his dick into her while she was still playing with herself. Wouldn't he really be the one at fault?"

"True. BUT, not if she were dressed in sexy lingerie and was just generally hot as hell. In a case like that, I would think he would have a hard time resisting. ESPECIALLY if she were doing that to seduce him."

I made a face like I was thinking for moment before surrendering the argument. "I think at best it's shared blame. He SHOULD be able to control himself, but if his sister is as sexy and seductive as you say she would be, then he doesn't stand a chance. A man with a sister as hot as that can hardly be blamed for his behavior."

"I would agree with that. But, man, what kind of family would that be?"

"Perverts."

"Sickies." 

We both looked at each other with disgust and shook our heads. Stacy let out a full-body shudder. I only held out for a few seconds before I lost it, joined by Stacy laughing with me.

It wasn't long afterward that we arrived home. Stacy admitted to being hungry and I had to confess that I was, too. "But as far as I'm concerned, dinner can wait," I said, embracing my sister from behind as she reached into the backseat to retrieve her two shopping bags.

"I don't think so," she smirked, turning around and handing me the bags. "Believe me, I want this as much as you do, babe, but I think I'm going to need my strength." She slung her purse over her shoulder as she walked past me, and then turned to look over her shoulder at me, saying, "And I have a feeling you will, too." She winked and I heard the car alarm chirp.

I just shook my head and followed her up the stairs, again watching her gorgeous round ass as she ascended the stairs ahead of me. If she wanted her three orgasms out of me, I could probably do that right now, just walking behind her, watching as she climbed those stairs. God, I loved that ass.

Digging the keys out of my pocket as I approached the door, I heard Stacy's phone ring. She dug it out of her purse and said, "It's mom." She winked at me as she answered it and I let her into the apartment, the cool air hitting us like a wall as we entered.

"Hey, mom." Stacy took the bags from me and smiled as she walked to her room and rounded the corner. "No, we're just walking in from doing a little shopping...Yeah, it's Sunday... I had a great time and T. said he enjoyed it, too." Her voice got a little louder as she reappeared in the hallway, empty-handed. She snapped her fingers and I turned around and saw her make a motion like she was taking a drink from an invisible glass. I gave her the thumbs up and made us both a drink while popping some ground turkey into the microwave to thaw.

In the background Stacy was still talking to mom on the phone, laughing occasionally and displaying her consistent jovial Stacy demeanor. I carried her glass into her room and set it on her dresser on a folded paper towel. She had her back to me, but she dropped something back into the bag, rustling the tissue paper, and turned around, her phone still sandwiched between her shoulder and her ear. Her fist was balled up and she extended her hand to me. "No. Midterms are right before fall break." She never missed a beat in her conversation with mom.

I looked at her and just guessed, so I extended my hand out and she dropped two red capsules into my palm. "What is this?" I whispered.

"Take them," she mouthed.

I just shrugged my shoulders, looking confused.

"Mom, can you hang on for just a second, please?" I heard mom mutter a single word before Stacy put her phone behind her back, her palm over the speaker. "Just take them. Let's see if they help you out tonight."

"What are they for?" I asked, still unsure.

"If they work, you won't have to ask." She smiled at me and kissed me on the lips before pushing on my chest to back me out of her room. She closed her door and I stood in the hall, confused. After a few seconds I shrugged my shoulders, thinking Stacy wouldn't do anything to hurt me, so I went to the kitchen and took a sip of my soda before taking each capsule individually.

I spent the next few minutes shredding lettuce and cheese as I waited for the meat to finish thawing, before throwing it in a skillet and starting to brown it. I heard Stacy's door open and she came in. I heard her bare feet pad on the kitchen floor and turned to see her in a tank and shorts, her uniform for home. She had her drink in one hand and picked up a small fingerful of cheese off the pile before resting her hip against the counter. "Mom said to tell you hey and she hoped you had a good time at the trade show."

"Did you tell her I had a better time after the trade show?" I smiled, getting a return smile from my sister.

"No, I most certainly did not."

"How is she doing? I mean, did you guys talk about...you know?"

"Us?" Her eyebrows raised, furrowing her forehead.

"Yeah."

"A little. I was kind of surprised she called since we had just spent three days with her, but Sunday is our phone call day and I don't know, maybe she thought it would be weird if she didn't. So, she didn't call to talk about it, but it did come up."

"Who brought it up," I wondered.

"I did?" She sounded like she was asking me.

"Uh huh. Why?"

"I wanted to make sure she was okay with us. I mean, not okay with 'us'," she pointed her finger rapidly between herself and me. "But okay with you and okay with me."

"And is she?" The meat was starting to sizzle so I kept stirring it and breaking it into smaller chunks with the slotted wooden spoon as we talked. I reached up to turn on the overhead vent, making us speak more loudly to be heard over it.

"She said it's still weird for her and she really doesn't want to know about it. Again she reiterated that if we could find someone else she really wants that, but again she would rather not lose either of us over it. She sounded more accepting today. Like she said, though, she's had a few years to see it coming, so it's not really a blindside."




Stacy King and I Ch. 07



"So..." I cleared my throat. "How are you feeling about us now? I mean, after talking to mom." I kept my head down and kept stirring the meat. Again, my insecurity flared up. I probably shouldn't have said anything. It just kind of came out.

I caught her movement out of the corner of my eye and looked up to see Stacy putting her drink on the counter. She took two steps toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck, smothering me in a kiss. My mouth opened to invite her tongue which had already started tracing my upper lip lightly. With one hand I continued to hold the spoon and my other arm gripped her around her waist. The kiss lasted only briefly before she pulled away and took my chin in her hand, her fingers and thumb gripping me firmly, but not harshly on either side of my jaw.

"Look at me," she said sternly. I looked into her pools of green and saw firmness but not anger. "Don't you ever question my love or my loyalty or my passion for you ever again. Do you understand me?"

"I'm sorry. I just..."

"NEVER...again. Do you understand?" Her eyes softened and her head tilted a little to the side. Her fingers released my jaw and softened to stroke my neck and down to my shoulder. "Never," she whispered.

After a moment I sighed and nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry. I know how much you love me. You continue to show me more and more every day." I put my hand on her cheek and looked into her eyes. "I promise," I said softly, taking her hand off my shoulder and kissing her palm. "No more doubts." I smiled softly at her and she returned my smile.

"Good." She kissed me once more, a peck on the lips. "Now, what can I do to help?" She looked at what I was doing and threw some tortillas in the warmer and placed it in the microwave wrapped in a wet paper towel to steam them. I drained and rinsed the meat and poured it back into the skillet, adding the seasoning as she set the table and waited for the meat to simmer. I turned the vent off so we could hear each other better.

"So about those pills..." I said.

"Nope." She didn't even look at me.

Dinner was great and it was still pretty early. Neither of us had much work to do for school, which was a good thing because Stacy had been flirting with me all afternoon and wouldn't even give me a hint as to what she had planned for tonight. I don't know if I was extra excited about tonight or what, but everything Stacy did just turned me on to no end. The way she cleared the table, the way she moved when washing the dishes... It's like everything she did was just a big tease. I mean, she was sexy all the time, but damn!

I placed the tortilla bowl on the counter and put my hands on her hips as she leaned over to put the leftovers into the fridge. I pressed against her ass with my groin, just wanting to feel it and to let her know I was there.

"OH!" She squealed, falling into the fridge a little before catching herself on the frame. "Somebody's anxious," she laughed. She backed out a little and stood up, looking over her shoulder at me. Her hand made its way to my crotch. As soon as she touched my raging erection, she said, "Yes, you are. Okay," she turned me around and patted my butt. "Go get ready. I'll be in, in just a few minutes."

I walked into our bedroom and lying on the bed was a new pair of underwear. They were black with silver flames wrapping around from the hips to the front. The front had a pocket and I turned it around to see the back and the center seam was puckered up. I'd never seen anything like it before. "What the hell is this?" I called out. 

"They're called Brazilian trunks. Clean up, put them on and light the candle. I'll be right in. I have to get ready," she called back.

"I'm not wearing these!"

"The hell you're not! I got us both a few things today and if you want to see what I'm wearing, you'll put those on!"

I juggled my options for just a second. I lit the pumpkin spice candle, walked into the bathroom and quickly ran a warm soapy washcloth over the important areas, reapplying deodorant, and brushing my teeth. As I was finishing the mouth rinse, Stacy came in carrying a towel, which she quickly adjusted to cover whatever was underneath it. "Come on. Out." She smiled at me and I spit and rinsed out the sink before making my way back to our room. The bathroom door slammed behind me.

Again I picked up the...what were they? Brazilian trunks? Okay. I picked up the Brazilian trunks and shook my head. I had no options here. None. As much as I wanted to preserve my pride, my boner told me to shut the fuck up and put on the damned panties! When I undressed I realized why I was so willing to do what my penis told me. He looked pissed! He was all purple and angry looking, veins popping out all over the place and his head was flared out like a kaiser's helmet.

Dammit, prick! Calm down! I'll put on the fucking underwear!

Why was I so hot? My heart was racing and my stomach was in knots. I didn't feel bad, per se. Just anxious like I was getting ready to make an important speech or run a race. All with the added dimension of being hard as steel.

Giving one last look at the black, silver-flamed underwear, I stepped in and pulled them all the way...HELLO! I had a wedgie. But the trunks were more comfortable than I had expected. It was almost like wearing nothing at all. Wanting to see what all the fuss was about, I walked a few steps until I was in front of the dresser and looked in the mirror. Most of me was still me. Still the same average build, short hair and everything, but there was a part of me that was a different man.

"Holy hell," I thought, laughing a little and shaking my head. The pouch in the front of the trunks had gathered my junk into a nice little package and then forced it out onto the front porch. I looked huge (at least compared to how I usually looked). Turning to the side and then around until I could kind of see my ass, I realized it had been given a little extra help as well. Now I understood what Stacy wanted these for. Okay, I thought, I can deal with this. It's not like anyone else is going to see me in these, except...

"Oooh, I like that," came my sister's voice from behind me. I jerked a little since she startled me, and quickly turned, my reaction apparently deflating any chance I had of being perceived as collected and in control.

"Ho. Ly. Shit... Stace?"

"You like it?" She put one hand on the door frame above her head and the other hand on her hip, which she cocked out to the side. She had on a red satin robe, loosely tied around the waist with a matching sash. The robe came to mid thigh and her exposed legs were covered in black stockings with black high heels, straps on the ankles. Her hair had been styled, long and wavy; and she had added a little green eye shadow, mascara and eye liner, a light tint of blush and her lips had a dark red sheen, which matched her robe.

"Uhh....I....you look...."

"Mm-hmm. I thought you might." She stood up straight, adjusted her sash slightly, making sure it was tight enough to keep her robe from opening, and crossed her arms in front of her, deepening her cleavage. Taking one step forward she made a twirling motion with her hand and said, "Turn around."

I just stared at her for a second. It was weird, her intentionally checking me out. Is this how she felt when I ogled her? My mind raced back to that first time I asked her to drop her towel so I could look at her. Why did I feel uncomfortable? She had seen me naked, up close. I had been inside her and just yesterday she had stuck her finger in my ass as she sucked me off. But this was different. Somehow.

"Come on, T," she repeated. "Let me see how they look."

I snapped back to the present and realized that it was okay. She got these because she wanted to see me in them, and to take them off of me. Suddenly I relaxed and smiled a little. I turned the rest of the way, starting with my back to her so she could scan at her leisure. I turned slowly and, frankly, just enjoyed her comments.

"I like what I'm seeing, there, T. Your ass looks great!" Again, I was a little uncomfortable, but reminded myself, and continued to turn. As soon as I was a facing her a little, she let out a gasp. "Oh, my god! Your cock looks huge!" She giggled a little as I continued to turn toward her and she rested her finger on her lips as she said softly, "Oh the things I want to do with that huge cock."

If it were possible to be any more aroused, any harder at that moment, I would have been. But as I had mentioned before, my dick was as big and hard and angry as I could ever remember it being. I was on edge already. The room was warm and I was getting warmer.

My sister slowly closed the distance between us, the satin robe waving from her hips, brushing against her thighs with each step. I stopped turning and just stood there, mesmerized by what I was seeing. When she got close enough, I slowly reached up with both hands, about to touch her arms. I wanted to feel the satin, and to touch her through it. Her hands quickly but smoothly intercepted mine, lightly grabbing my wrists. As she looked into my eyes, she gently shook her head while pushing my hands back down to my sides. 

Letting go of my hands, she placed a finger on my lips. I kissed it instinctively, my gaze never leaving hers. She traced that finger down over my chin, my neck, lightly grazing down the center of my chest all the way to the waistband of my trunks. She hooked her finger into the waistband and pulled it back briefly, letting it snap back into place as she stepped to the side. Her other finger found my shoulder and she traced it around to my back as she began to speak.

"You know, T," she spoke softly. "I think about you all the time. I have trouble concentrating in class sometimes. I think about your eyes and your smile, your chest and shoulders. I think about the sweet and the sexy things you have said to me." By now she had made her way around to my front, her finger still tracing across my other shoulder and around to my chest. "I think about your touch," she sighed. She leaned in close as her finger traced down my chest again.

"And I think about this," she whispered, her hand grazing downward over the swollen, throbbing, purple-headed beast in the shorts she bought me. The feeling of her hand lightly caressing me through the thin satin-like material gave me a chill, although I was still unreasonably warm. 

"Thomas," she whispered, her touch moving off my erection, sliding along the waistband to my hip, "Do you know what a lipstick show is?"

I shook my head quickly, feeling dizzy, but also answering impatiently.

"Aww. That's too bad," she pouted. Taking one small step back, she continued to look into my eyes as she smoothly lowered herself to her knees. Her hands slid around my waist, stroking the waistband, and hooked into the back of it, one hand over each cheek. Pulling them down over my ass, she brought her hands around front, lowering the trunks as she went. Unsurprisingly at the front they caught on my steely erection and her eyes followed her hands to the front. With one hand she pulled the elastic band out and with the other, she reached in and grasped my raging hard-on around the base.

"Oh!" she exclaimed quietly, looking back up at me. "It's so hot." Her hand was cool by comparison. She pulled the trunks down over the head and her eyes got big as soon as she saw it. "Oh, my god, T. It's bigger than ever, and harder than I've ever seen it." Her eyes glazed over with lust and her breathing picked up. "I'm going to enjoy this," she said.

I don't know how I was still standing. All the blood in my body had to have been either in my prick or up against my skin, because I was hot all over and starting to sweat a little. I looked down at my sister and she looked sexy as fuck. Her breasts pushed the front of her satin robe out and I could see straight down into her cleavage. The robe had ridden up when she dropped to her knees and I saw the lacy top band of her black thigh-highs. I loved thigh-highs. Did she know or was it a guess?

With a loose grip, she gently slid her hand from the base to the frenulum, apparently being careful not to touch the head. Her moan was barely audible and she looked up at me with that...god, that incredibly sexy look. The left side of her mouth curled up into that half-smile I've always loved and she bit her bottom lip. She knew what she was doing. Her hand was very slow in its movement and her grip was very, very light. I felt her other hand on the outside of my right knee, lightly stroking a few inches up my thigh and back. 

"Okay, Thomas, keep your hands behind your back, okay?" Again, that smile.

"Okay," I breathed. Whatever she wanted. I looked at her face and the creamy fair skin of her small feminine hand against my purple shaft and the engorged head at the end of it. The contrast turned me on for some reason.

Still resting on her heels, she leaned forward and closed her eyes as she stroked her cheek slowly from my sac all the way up the underside of my rod, which she still held in her hand, lightly pinning it against my stomach. She repeated it with her other cheek, alternating between closing her eyes, gazing at my erection, and looking me in the eye. She was loving me, adoring me. She rubbed me across her face, bumping over her nose and across her forehead before kissing up the shaft.

I was throbbing almost painfully as her passion for me began to overtake her. With one hand she gripped my shaft and with the other she grabbed my ass, squeezing it before blindly sliding her hand around to find my fingers. She gripped my hand and I returned her grasp before she quickly released my hand and stroked my shaft with both hands, interlocking her fingers like a praying child and sliding them up and down my shaft gently.

Finally, she spoke. "Do you have anything for me yet, Thomas?" I looked down and made eye contact before I felt her grip around the base tighten. My sister pulled the skin forward and as she got just past the halfway point, she looked down at the head and we both watched an increasingly large dollop of clear ejaculate overflow and roll down the tip of my head and onto the web between her thumb and forefinger. She smiled up at me and said, "Let the show begin."

Letting go of my cock, she dipped her middle finger into the pool of pre-cum on her hand and traced it onto her lips like lip balm. She repeated the process until her lips were covered. She then wiped the web of her thumb onto the head of my cock before rotating her hand around to smear the still-leaking juices around the head. Looking into my eyes again, she used the enlarged purple head to trace across her lips. I was amazed at how smoothly it glided across her deep red lips. Pulling more fluid from the base up through the shaft, she reapplied more gloss to her lips.

Without ever breaking contact, she puckered and separated her lips, sliding them down the underside of my shaft, leaving a slick trail all the way to my sac. I shuddered and tightened my grip on my own ass. Her eyes smiled, but she didn't stop. I felt her mouth open a little and one of my balls was pulled into her mouth, popping past her lips. Her tongue twirled around it, tracing a circle around it like a piece of hard candy. Letting it pop free of her lips she repeated the process with the other nut. The pleasure was unlike anything I had ever felt. It wasn't the most intense I'd ever felt, but it was certainly pleasurable, and almost soothing.

Coming back to center, Stacy craned her neck back, looking straight up at me, my shaft covering her nose and forehead. She looked up at me from around my shaft and I felt her tongue tickle the skin just behind my scrotum.

"Shit," I exhaled, clinching at her touch.

"I take it you like that?" she asked with a smile.

"God, Stace, you're incredible."

"Why, thank you." Again she pulled a single stroke with the tip of her tongue, from behind my ball sac to the base of my shaft. I responded the same way again. My sister dragged her flattened tongue all the way up the underside of my shaft, curling her head straight up and taking me into her mouth in one long, slow, singular motion. It was about the sexiest thing I'd ever seen her do.

Between the teasing, the underwear, her lingerie, her long gentle touches, the looks she had been giving me, and my already heightened state of arousal, I was on edge before she even really began the blowjob. Removing one hand, she gripped my base again with her other and steadily took me into her mouth until her lips bumped into her hand. Because I'm not especially big this was not difficult for her, I imagine, but she seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. And she felt amazing! Her tongue never stopped moving, even when she had her nose against my pubic mound and her forefinger and thumb encircling my base while the rest of her hand was splayed out flat in my thatch of trimmed pubic hair.

Withdrawing me from her mouth, she left a sheen and her bright red, glossy lips held a tight seal as she pulled back. As she pulled her mouth off of me, she opened her mouth a little and the ridge of my head barely brushed past her lips. Her head was tilted back a little and she looked up at me as her tongue came out and flattened itself against the underside of my head, the pink muscle wrapping up along the sides of the flared purple head. Dragging it up to the tip, when she pulled her tongue back there was a string of pre-cum that joined my cock and her tongue. 

Before she was far enough away for it to snap, she leaned her head back a little and pushed forward again, causing the head of my dick to slide along the roof of her mouth, pressing against the hard palate until the palate softened and she pushed me to the entrance of her throat. Smoothly she tilted her head forward again and pulled back, pressing her tongue against the underside of my shaft and head. 

Again I squeezed my own ass as my hands clinched, but I was denied the opportunity to touch the object of my desire. Every nerve was firing. As she drew my orgasm from me, my toes began to curl on their own, gripping the cheap apartment carpet. My eyes pinched shut and I saw blue and purple and red flashes of light as the pleasure intensified at her effort. She never increased her pace, but she started moaning around me. I opened my eyes to look down at the goddess on her knees, offering me pleasure of her own making and what I saw spurred me forward even more quickly toward release.

Her eyes were squeezed shut and her breasts swayed as her right arm disappeared between her legs, working herself over in a quick steady pace.

"Oh, fuck, Stace," I breathed out before I could stop myself. Her eyes opened and looked up at me again, her mouth never changing pace, and her other hand maintaining its grasp at the base. Her fingers alternated between scratching at my hair and curling around to caress my balls.

As we made eye contact, the hand between her legs stopped and she got this wicked glint in her eye before closing them again in pleasure as she continued to work me over. She withdrew her hand and extended it up toward my chest until her arm was outstretched only inches from my face. It was wet with her own arousal and I knew what she wanted. It was what we both wanted. I dipped my head and took her fingers into my mouth, licking each one clean, working my tongue between them, refusing to leave anything behind.

"MMmmmm," she moaned as she withdrew her hand and withdrew from sucking me. She nodded desperately, her breath short. "It's time, T," she demanded, looking me in the eye. Letting go of my cock, she placed both hands on my ass and pulled my hands away before replacing them with her own. "It's time to skull-fuck your sister." She opened her mouth just wide enough to take my girth, and extended her tongue over her bottom lip.




Stacy King and I Ch. 07



I grasped the sides of her head and a smile crossed her still-open mouth. I entered her smoothly to make sure we were both ready. She closed her eyes again and laved me with her tongue. I gently pressed into her, measuring the depth and ease of entry. I didn't want to go too far and cause her discomfort, but as I said before, she has taken all of me without a problem and again I realized this would be the case tonight.

She squeezed my ass and when I withdrew, it was her that pulled me in. Or pulled herself onto me. I began a slow steady rhythm, pressing into her until I was completely buried, the head of my prick just entering her throat. On occasion her eyes would squeeze shut for a moment as I bumped in the back, but she never backed off and never pushed me away. Her lips formed a loose wet seal around my shaft and I would withdraw until just the head remained before pushing back in again.

I could feel her hands squeeze at my ass, but as I gained a little speed she stopped pulling me forward or moving. She just let me use her. I knew I wasn't going to last long and she wasn't going to want me to. I remembered our conversation in the car and again felt my surge bump to the next level. I picked up speed again, this time quickly and steadily thrusting into her. She quickly moved her right hand off my ass and planted it back between her legs. Just as she had said, she fingered herself while her brother skull-fucked her.

That was it. There was barely time to react as my orgasm finally leapt from my balls like a jack-in-the-box after being wound slowly for a time. I had to let go of her head with one hand just to brace myself on the corner of the dresser, grabbing it like I was falling from a high perch. I stood silently as my whole body contracted, preventing me from making a noise. I felt the blaze of my climax burst out the angry head, feeling it pinch the underside of my shaft as it forced stream after stream into my sister's mouth. 

Stacy lurched a little at the first blast, but immediately recovered after a quick "Mm!" She worked to swallow all I was giving her, but she must have underestimated herself because she had worked out far more than she had ever pulled from me before, and with more force. Each stream was long and forceful, bursting out as from a rifle. She did well, swallowing as much as she could, but she just couldn't keep up. After a few shots, I saw some trickle out the corner of her mouth before being forced out by another blast, this time rolling down her chin to splatter on her black stockings. 

When she had pulled the last of it from me, she rested back on her heels, panting heavily, and looked up at me with a smile. "Wow," she breathed. "That..." she emphasized "was a lot of cum."

I collapsed against the dresser at my hip and nodded emphatically, still unable to speak as I tried to catch my breath. Not surprisingly I was still erect, as often happened after a long time of teasing and powerful orgasm. It just took a little longer to go down, is all.

My sister reached up for me and I extended my free hand, taking hers in mine as she helped herself up with minimal effort from me. "Why don't you rest?" she giggled, patting me on the chest. "I'll be right back." I watched as she sashayed out the door, her hips still exaggerating her movement, swinging the hem of her robe side to side. As soon as she turned the corner I gathered enough strength to make it to the bed, which was nearly four feet away. I crawled onto the bed and propped myself against a couple of pillows against the headboard.

In the distance I heard the refrigerator door close and a few seconds later, Stacy re-entered our room carrying two cold bottles of water. "Drink this," she said, tossing me one. "We're going to want to stay hydrated." She winked at me as she took a sip from her own bottle, leaving a pink tinted ring around the mouth of the bottle when she withdrew it. I opened my own and drank about half the bottle before replacing the cap and letting my arm flop down onto the bed beside me.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, stepping onto the bed on her knees.

"You wore me out," I replied with a snicker.

"The hell I did," she smiled. "That's one. I said I wanted three." She took my bottle away as I stared at her in disbelief and she placed it on the nightstand next to hers. "Make sure you keep track of which bottle is yours," she said. "I don't want to get any of your germs."

I just smiled and let out a single puff of air as an effort to laugh.

"So, T, it looks like you're ready to go again." She nodded at my crotch and continued to smile. 

I looked down and noticed that I was still as hard as I had been before the blowjob. "What the hell?" I asked. Looking up at my sister I shook my head. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

"Well, it could be that I'm a fucking goddess. Or it could be the lingerie. But most likely it's the pills. How do you feel?"

"I guess I feel fine. A little flush, and a little hornier than usual, but otherwise, fine."

"Good. I'm still test driving, so let me know if you feel funny at all."

"Yeah, sure."

"But it looks incredible, even better than usual, and you know how much I've always loved it," she confirmed. 

"Good, because as far as I'm concerned, it's going to be the one you're stuck with for the rest of your life." I was serious about that, by the way.

"And you," she said, getting to her feet to stand on the bed, "will be stuck with this for the rest of your life." At that, she untied her robe and let it slide down her back to puddle at her heels.

"Fuck me," I muttered. She had her same incredible smile and her makeup was still almost perfect, with the exception of the lipstick that had been mostly rubbed off and was currently staining my dick. As great as she looked in the robe, she looked even better out of it. Her voluptuous figure was accented now by a black satin corset with black laces criss-crossing down the front across a wide red vertical stripe. Her breasts were pushed up and together, covered by demi-cups to hide the nipples, and the bottom edge had minimal frills, maybe an inch wide, encircling all the way around.

The matching panties were...wait, there were no panties. My hot-as-hell sister was wearing a red and black corset, black thigh highs and sandals. Her pussy still had a small tuft of brown hair above her clitoris, but was otherwise bare, and she stood there above me, wet and glistening, her hands on her hips in super-hero pose.

"Hey, babe?" I said, looking her up and down.

"Yeah?" she giggled.

"When you wear stuff like that, you don't have to get me pills to help out. I can GIVE you three loads."

"You're sweet." She looked down at me, lifting her chin to peer down at me suspiciously. "But don't think that means you get out of the other two. Now," she continued as she stepped over me and placed her feet on either side of my ribs. "Let's see about evening the score."

I smiled up at her as she placed her hands on the top of the headboard, bracing herself. I sat up and ran my hands along the backs of her thighs. I loved the feel of the nylon against her skin and felt the elasticized lace at the top before touching bare skin. "Oh, god, T," she whimpered.

"Now, about that score," I said. I licked up the inside of her thigh, starting at the lace band of her stocking, bringing a shudder. I could smell her arousal and feel the heat of her pussy in the air around my face. I don't think I'll ever get tired of her scent. I continued to run my tongue in an arch from her inner thigh to the outside of her pussy and sideways through her tuft of hair before continuing in a reverse pattern on the other side. She let out small moans and let out puffs of breath as I traveled around her groin with my tongue, my fingers grazing simultaneously over her ass and thighs.

My tongue worked randomly, closing the circle to her cunt and my grip on her ass tightened, preventing her escape, even though she wasn't even trying to get away. At least not yet. Pulling her onto my face, my arms embraced her thighs, pinning her to my ribs as my fingers worked closer to her asshole. Quite simply, I was locking onto my targets. She continued to shudder and moan and rotate her hips or thrust into my mouth in little seemingly random movements. 

Finally I kissed her little tuft of hair before opening my mouth and letting my lower lip glide across her hood as I brought it back forward to my unmoving upper lip. I kissed her patch again and then extended my tongue while tilting my head back, looking up at her face. I reached as far back beneath her as my tongue would reach and placed enough pressure on her to work my tongue between her lips, tasting her from the inside. "Oh, fu..." she gasped, her eyes opening wide for just a second before relaxing again. As soon as I worked my tongue between her lips, I pulled it forward, keeping the tip curled and swiping it across her clit, causing another gasp, followed by a moan.

I repeated the process, picking up speed in rapid progression and she began to get wetter and wetter. Hunching her hips forward, she allowed me more access to her most private and sensitive area. She looked down at me, her hair draped over to one side, creating a shadow on her face, but making her look even more sultry. As I looked into her eyes, I was captivated by the mounds of her breast, the look on her face, the curl of her lip, the lust in her eyes and the furrow on her brow. We were both impassioned right then and we knew how much love was here between us.

Just seeing her like that aroused me even more and I gripped her more tightly, eliciting a gasp, and buried my face into her crotch. My tongue, lips and even nose were fully integrated into bringing her pleasure. I couldn't get enough of her taste, her smell, the feel of her soft flesh against my face and hands. Her knees were trembling and her thumb was white from pressing hard into the headboard, her hands in a death grip on the dark cherry sleigh bed frame. She was breathing heavier and harder than before. Her hips rotated and ground against me. Her overflowing breasts jiggled as she flinched at my touch. She was getting close. I knew the signs.

To push her over the edge, I curled my hands under and pulled her apart, opening her up to me even more. She jumped toward the edge, but it wasn't enough. Dipping a finger into her and quickly pulling it back out, I moved it back a couple of inches and pressed against a small patch of soft skin. She yelped and flinched but closed her eyes and bit her lip. My finger sank into her ass to the first knuckle, but I continued to push to the second. With my finger firmly seated I refocused my efforts on her clitoris. It didn't take more than a few seconds of stimulation before she sucked in a series of wheezing gasps before letting out a long deep grunt while my face was flooded with a torrent of tangy juice. One hand released the headboard and latched onto my scalp, grabbing at my hair in a futile attempt to grip my hair. Instead, she stroked my skull, sending shivers through me. Her nails scraped against my scalp, but not painfully. Instead it turned me on even more, which was a surprise. I let her ride my face to completion, but when the heel of her hand pushed against my forehead and she backed her hips away, I didn't follow.

She smiled at me and shook her head. "One," she breathed, looking down between her legs at my ever-hard dick. Taking a step back and keeping her feet planted on the bed, she squatted over me. With one hand she rubbed my erection against her flooding pussy and with the other she steadied herself on my chest. Not gently, she dropped onto my groin, impaling herself on me.

"OOOhhhffff" she said, biting her lip and pinching her eyes closed. Looking me in the eye before she even moved, she said, "You feel so good in me, Thomas. Can I ride you for a little while?"

"You can ride me for as long as you'd like." She leaned forward and kissed me as I pushed myself up to meet her halfway. She felt so good embracing my shaft with her walls as her tongue invaded my mouth. Pulling me forward, she wrapped her arms around my neck and lifted her feet off the bed to wrap them around my waist. Her breasts pressed against me and my hands went to her ass. Rather than pouncing on me, she simply ground her hips in circles, allowing us both to feel every ridge and texture of the other, her the ridges and veins and hardness of my cock; me the wet velvet embrace of her soft smooth walls and the rolling cervix at my head.

Stacy held me tight, her arms encircling my shoulders and her chin resting on one shoulder. I felt more than heard her breath in my ear and on my neck. It was harsh, coming in puffs rather than regular cycles. She kept me buried in her and it amazed me that she was constantly stimulating me without ever lifting up. We had never done this before and I filed it away in my mind as something to add to our ever-growing stock of techniques to bring pleasure.

My sister's nails pressed into my back as she gripped me, though not painfully so. Continuing to grind on my lap, Stacy kept me buried to the hilt inside her. I don't know what she felt, but I felt the roll of her cervix licking around the underside rim of my head as she curled her hips, and giving me a momentary break from the stimulation before coming around again. Over and over the tickle bolted from the head back down to my anus, causing it to clinch on occasion.

One of Stacy's hands quickly traveled up to my scalp again and she cradled the back of my head against her shoulder, still forcing her breath deeper into my neck, the wind of her pleasure reaching to my very soul. How could I be even more in love with this goddess? And she continued to find new ways to increase my love for her. I moved one hand off her ass, tracing it along her spine rapidly and mirroring her grasp on me, I gripped a handful of tresses at the base of her skull, bringing another gasp from her, her hips flinching once. Turning my face toward her, I kissed her neck and she pulled back, receiving a second kiss on her cheek and then one on her lips. Her tongue received mine in a gentle dance before I pulled my face back and looked into the most beautiful eyes I had still ever seen.

"Stacy," I said, "I love you."

"I love you, too, T," she breathed and quickly moved in for another kiss. I backed away, gripping her hair to keep her from following. 

"No," I said, catching her off guard. I let go of her hair and slid my hand around to her cheek. "I really love you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I want to love you forever. I don't have any doubts about that."

Her eyes welled up with tears. She had stopped grinding on me when I pulled away. "I'm so glad. I don't have any doubts, either, T. I want to love you forever, too. Promise you'll never leave me, that you'll never love anyone else the way you love me." She smiled as she said it, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"I promise. I could never love anyone the way I love you. And I don't think anyone could ever love me the way you do."

"You only say that because no one ever has," she smiled, stroking my cheek. "But," she gripped me tighter with her pussy, "I will always love you like this." Again she pulsed, gripping and releasing me. I threw my head back and moaned as she began to grind again, her cervix rolling over my head. She laughed at my response, but quickly returned to gasps and moans of pleasure.

Stacy unwrapped her legs from my waist and pushed on my chest, prompting me to lie back against the pillows again. Pulling her feet behind her, she rested on her knees and glided forward and back on my shaft. Leaning down for a kiss, she whispered, "Do you think I can pull another load out of you if I do this?" She raised up, pulling herself almost all the way off of me. Her walls brushed the ridge of my helmet, causing another jolt to my system.

"God, yeah," I whispered into her mouth. My hands quickly found her ass again and I thrust up into her.

"OH!" She jumped when I bumped her ass with my groin, then she followed me back down to the mattress. Sitting up, her hands resting on my stomach, she began to quickly slide up and down on me, drawing another orgasm forward. She continued to look me in the eyes, her mouth slightly open and she looked incredibly sexy. Her sex face is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

She continued to roll her hips as she raised and lowered on me. I brought my hands forward and grabbed her tits, pinching and pulling on her nipples. "Oh, god!" Stacy picked up the pace and squeezed her eyes shut. She gritted her teeth and hunched over, keeping herself impaled on me. I felt the warmth of her orgasm flood me. "Get up, Stace! I'm cumming!" I tried to warn her and push her up, but she planted herself against me.

"Go ahead, T. It's safe. Cum in me. I want to feel you cum inside me." She nodded quickly as she said it and began raising and lowering more quickly than before.

I was in no position to argue. She was panting and working me over and my climax hit me like a train. The thought of being able to finally shoot into Stacy's pussy called that first shot forward. I grunted as the first blast escaped into her. 

In response, her eyes whipped open. "Shhhhii...god, you're...huge," she gasped, her words escaping between breaths. She started laughing as she felt me continue to pump into her. "You're twitching." As she laughed, her tits bounced. 

I was out of breath, but she made me smile and I started laughing a little, too. I shook my head. She lay down on top of me and I wrapped my arms around her. We just lay there and rested for a while, catching our breath. I don't know why there was such joy in my heart at that moment. I think I had finally let go of my hesitation. I had realized how deeply in love we were and that it could, should, and would last forever. Not only had I confessed my undying love to my sister, but she had returned it. Our love was sealed by those confessions, but I think Stacy asked me to cum inside her as another statement, one of commitment. My seed was the only one to be in her and as far as I was concerned it would be the only seed that would ever be in her. She had now given herself to me completely.

"Stace," I mumbled as I stroked her back.

"Mm."

"Are, uh, are you sure it was okay for me to cum inside?" I was uncertain about the consequences.

Stacy lifted herself off me a little and looked at me with that crooked smile. "Of course. I've been tracking this month and right now I'm fine. But I'll go to the campus clinic in the morning and get a morning-after pill just in case. How's that?"

"Okay."

She lay back down and her breath was on my neck. She ground her hips around once and laughed. "Oh, my god...You're still hard."

"Don't blame me. You're the one who's hot AND you drugged me."

"Well," she said, sitting up on me again. "We did say three and we've only had two each." She reached for our waters, and I felt her insides stimulate me again as she leaned out to the side and then straightened back up with the waters. She handed one to me and then opened hers to take a drink as I opened mine and finished it off. I threw the empty bottle at the small trash can in the corner, banking it off the walls before Stacy announced that I missed.

"I'll get it later," I shrugged. "But for now," I grabbed her bottle and put the cap back on it, "I need to get this third load out of me." She squealed as I quickly rolled her over while I dropped her bottle on the floor. I was still buried to the hilt and our mixture kept her wet enough for me to move freely inside her. I ground my hips against her and then pulled out until the head popped free.

Stacy just laughed a little, especially when she saw that I was still completely hard. There was a clear sheen all over me, but a white ring around the base. "I like what I see, there, Thomas. You look incredible like that." She grabbed her ankles, her elbows in the crooks of her knees, keeping herself spread open for me. 




Stacy King and I



Within a few minutes we were seated at a back table surrounded by rustic wood and farm tools at The Crowe's Nest. The floors were old decking from porches and homes around the area and the walls were made of wood from old barns, some with red or white paint peeling and flaking, exposing the grayed wood beneath. There were rusted road signs and old metal advertising signs peppering the walls between rusted out mule-driven plows, hoes and mauls.

"So this place has good wings, huh?" Stacy asked as she eyed the walls and bobbed her head to the barely audible country music soundtrack playing overhead.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"I didn't say that."

"Do you trust me to order you my favorite?"

"I don't know. I thought we were doing buffalo wings."

"I can order you wings if you want, but there's something I like better. Still in the same vein, though. So do you trust me?" I asked.

"Okay. But it better be good," she said with a mock scowl, broken soon enough with a smile.

The waitress approached us in her worn jeans and snug ash gray t-shirt with the restaurant logo on the left chest, which was also in a larger version on the back. "Hey. Thanks for coming to The Crowe's Nest," she said as she dropped two rolled napkins with silverware inside at our places. "Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Actually we're ready to order. Now I know this isn't on the menu, but it used to be and you guys will still make it on request. We want two buffalo chicken sandwiches with ranch dressing and two sweet teas."

I looked over at Stacy and she gave me an approving nod with eyebrows raised. I smiled back at her and nodded as the waitress wrote it down.

"Sure thing. I'll be right back with your tea and fries." I watched as she walked away, her ass held snug in her jeans and her blonde pony tail swinging back and forth over the eyes of the large smiling crow on the back of her t-shirt.

"So," my goddess interrupted me, "What are we looking at tomorrow?"

"Well, the juniors and seniors registered today, so sophomores register in the morning and the freshmen," I pointed at her teasingly with a smile, "register after lunch."

"Okay. Then do we have plans for the morning?"

"Not really. If you want to unpack you can, or just sit around, or we can go into town and poke around. It's your call."

"All right," she said. "How about we play it by ear so I don't have to commit?"

"Sounds good to me," I replied as the waitress returned with our teas in clear plastic cups and set down a red plastic basket lined with wax paper and overflowing with thick steak-cut fries. "Thanks," I said to her as she smiled and dropped two wrapped straws on the butcher block table before walking away again.

"So," I said as Stacy squirted ketchup all over the fries and grabbed the first one, "England has been very good to you, it seems."

Taking a sip of her tea through her straw, she smiled and said, "Yeah, I guess so. It was a good experience. I enjoyed it, but it's good to be home. I really missed you, T." She frowned a little when she said it.

"I missed you, too. I'm glad you're home. I hate that I missed you...um...growing up the last couple of years."

She looked down and thrust her chest out, "You mean 'growing out', brother?" She looked at me, moved her shoulders back and forth, then burst out laughing, causing her chest to bounce. My face turned red and fortunately I didn't have to respond as I was rescued by the returning waitress with our sandwiches and a pitcher of tea to top off our drinks.

Stacy was just as distracted as I was by the sandwiches. Each sandwich consisted of two fried chicken breast tenders tossed in buffalo sauce with ranch dressing poured over top. The tenders rested side by side on long rye hoagie rolls and had a blanket of lettuce and tomato on top. She took her first bite and breathed out through a mouthful of chicken and bread, "Oh, my God. This is so good. We are definitely coming back here! A lot!"

I began to laugh a little and she smiled while asking, "What?" 

I reached for a paper towel off the roll resting on a stand at the edge of the table, and I dabbed the corner of her mouth where a dollop of ranch dressing had made its home. "There," I said, "that's better." She smiled sweetly at me before grabbing a paper towel of her own and dabbing both corners of her mouth just in case.

We spent the rest of our time at The Crowe's Nest laughing, swapping stories and catching up on the last two years. Our waitress was courteous and faithful to continue refilling our drinks and bringing out more fries when we would run low. Next thing we knew we were alone with the staff and I checked my watch. "Oh, shit! It's 8:30! We've been talking for three hours." I waved the waitress over and apologized, leaving a very generous tip, even though the place had been mostly empty the entire evening. Stacy paid the check as promised and we walked back out into the warm humid Georgia summer.

It wasn't long before we were back at the apartment, where I again followed Stacy up the stairs.

Cutie

Cutie

Cutie

Cutie

"I don't really feel like unpacking or making the bed tonight. It's kind of late," she said.

"That's all right. You can stay in my bed and I'll take the couch."

"I couldn't do that, T. I'll take the couch."

"Now, that I won't allow," I argued, ever the gentleman. We bickered back and forth and she finally agreed to let me sleep on the couch and to take my bed. It was only for one night, after all and tomorrow we could get her room set up.

"Well, do you want to watch a movie? I may not feel like unpacking, but we can relax a little," she suggested.

"Sure. Poke around on Netflix and see what strikes your mood. I'm going to go tidy up and change for bed." I walked into my room and grabbed some gym shorts and an old t-shirt. While I typically slept nude, I usually dressed down until I climbed into bed. Tonight, however, I would be wearing something. I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, looking myself in the eye as the thoughts in my head brought unfettered shame.

You'd better get a handle on things, buddy. That's your sister in there. Don't forget that. Pull your head out of your ass and keep your dick in check.

I changed into my t-shirt and pulled off my jeans to wash up after a hot day. I was about to pull on my shorts, when halfway up my legs I stopped to think. I don't usually wear underwear to sleep in. But I don't usually get embarrassed by a boner...Aw, hell. Don't worry about it. You should be fine. Nothing's gonna happen. I finished pulling up my shorts and went into the living room where Stacy had found a movie and the home screen was paused, waiting for me to return.

Stacy abruptly stood up, her breasts jiggling. "I'm going to clean up, too. Go ahead and get your bed ready. I'm a little chilly, so I may want to cover up with the blanket." I gathered a pillow, sheet and blanket from the closet and fixed the couch into a bed. About the time I finished, she was back in the living room with her hair down, dressed in a similar white tank top and plaid men's boxers. She shot me a smile as she plopped down on the couch and pulled the blanket over her legs before swinging them up onto the couch. I just stood there like an idiot for a second until she snapped me out of it.

"Sit down. I'll put my feet on your lap. Feel free to give me a foot rub." She smiled...and I think she winked again. I think. It was quick, but I think I saw one. I relaxed on the end of the couch while she sat propped against the opposite armrest. As soon as I rested on the cushion, her feet and lower calves were resting on my lap. I hoped to avoid an embarrassing erection, but I was making no promises. "Ready?" she asked, waving the remote.

"Yeah, go ahead," I answered, lifting the foot furthest out and beginning by pulling on each individual toe, lightly stretching. Over the next few minutes I would work from the outside of her foot inward: toes, heel, ball, outside edges, finishing with the arch. Every once in a while, she would let out a little giggle ("That tickles," she would say with smile) or a small moan where her head would drop back and her eyes would close. When she would open them she would look at me in a way that I believe was unintentionally sexy, but sexy nonetheless. These responses usually came when I would press my thumbs into her arch. Sometimes her leg would tense and her toes point. I could swear her hips would grind on occasion, but it was hard to tell with the blanket pulled up. I don't know how she did it; I was starting to get warm, but that may not have been the blanket. Between the air conditioning and the ceiling fan I should have been cool, but I found myself getting turned on, and my dick was starting to respond. I was startled by Stacy's voice.

"You know, Thomas," she began, her voice jerking my head away from the movie. She wasn't looking at me, but the television screen. "The feet are erogenous zones for a lot off people."

"Really?" I croaked. "Where did you hear that?"

"While I was in England I took advantage and would spend short trips in Europe. There is more sexual freedom in a lot of places there. They have porn shops, book stores and sex toy businesses everywhere. You don't have to feel the shame you do over here."

"Okaaaay... and you heard about the erogenous zones from visiting a porn shop?" I guessed.

She laughed, throwing her head back. "No, nothing like that," she said. "But I did visit a few book stores and did a little reading. I read the Kama Sutra," she stated in a way that sounded like it was supposed to surprise me, "And some erotic fiction."

Afraid to ask, I did anyway. "Were you looking for some ideas for a boyfriend over there?"

"No. Sometimes I would get asked out or someone would ask if I was in a relationship. I just told them I had someone waiting for me back home." I didn't remember her ever mentioning a boyfriend or crush, but that didn't mean anything. Love can be a sensitive area, especially if the one you have a crush on, doesn't feel the same way.

"Oh. Okay." Nothing was said for the next few minutes as I massaged the other foot. I had incorporated lower calf massages into the foot rub, which was mutually enjoyable if her squirming and moaning gave any indication. At one point when I was rubbing her calf, Stacy stretched her leg and her foot pressed against my solid erection. She didn't say anything, but I saw her lips curl in a smirk.

After a few minutes, Stacy broke the silence. "You give great massages, brother. I should get you to treat me more often."

"I can do that," I said nonchalantly, although honestly, the thought of running my hands on my sister's skin on a regular basis only served to fuel my erection. I was starting to leak a little after more than an hour's idle touching, concentrated massaging, and an afternoon of watching her bounce around.

The movie ended just a few minutes later and Stacy flipped back to cable. There was a peal of rolling thunder outside, from a distance, echoing through the foothills where our little town was nestled. I told Stacy "seven" indicating the channel that has the best local weather report. She immediately flipped over to channel seven and we watched a band of red, green and yellow extend over the white circle labeled as our little town. At the bottom of the screen we watched the names of local towns scrolling across the screen followed by tornado watches and warnings, flash flood warnings and storm warnings.

Stacy became visibly nervous, her eyes showing the fear she tried to hide. She had never liked storms. I can't count how many times she would show up in my room at the sound of cracking thunder and crawl in my bed for protection, even though there's no way I could protect her from the storm. She just felt safe, I guess. She looked over at me as if expecting me to reassure her. "It's all right, Stacy. I'll be here." It's apparently all she needed to hear. She smiled a little and looked down.

She stood up and walked to my end of the couch before leaning down and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, brother for taking care of me," she said, just above a whisper. She had one hand on the back of the couch just behind my head and her other hand rested behind her back. I tried not to, but I couldn't help it. Her breasts hung low in her tank top while she bent over me, her cleavage deep and dark and tantalizing. She had to have known I saw it, but showed no sign. She stayed like that for no reason. I smelled her shampoo and/or body spray as her hair hung by my head, teasing me. My cock twitched, but fortunately it was still covered by the blanket.

"I'm glad to do it. Anything for you," I whispered in return. We just looked into each other's eyes for a moment before she leaned down and kissed me on the cheek again, this time more on the corner of my mouth. She lingered for just a moment, then backed up a little. Before she straightened up she whispered, "Thanks again." When she stood up I noticed that her nipples were poking against her tank top. I can't blame her. I was harder than before, too. I wanted so badly to believe that my sister wasn't making a pass at me, but another part of me wanted to believe I wasn't some sicko perving on my sister.

When she disappeared around the corner, I sat in silence not really watching the news that was on and quickly heard the door to my room close. I dropped my head back on the back of the couch and thought to myself, Dammit, T. Get a hold of yourself. You won't be able to keep this up for the rest of your life, not even the rest of college. I needed relief so I could get some sleep. Confident that Stacy was in for the night, I removed my t-shirt to use as a rag and lifted my butt to pull my shorts down and free my aching hard-on.

Immediately my mind went into fantasy mode. And immediately my mind jumped to Stacy as my fantasy. It was only fantasy, right? Is it still wrong if I just fantasize about my sister? It didn't matter at that point. I replayed the images in my mind of the day's events, recreating a different scenario. I replayed her run toward me on campus, this time in slow motion and quickly her shirt disappeared, allowing her monumental breasts to move freely. No one noticed but me. Immediately my mind jumped to her walk down the stairs on the way to dinner. Only now she was wearing a thong instead of her cheer shorts. "Do you like my ass, brother?" she peaked over her shoulder to ask. "It's yours if you want it." I didn't even have to know what that meant for it to cause an eruption. My thighs and stomach began to burn as my hand tightened around my shaft and increased in speed because I could feel my orgasm rapidly building. My head was laid back, my eyes closed, so I felt the eruption but didn't see it. It felt like a gallon and was probably the biggest orgasm of my life to this point.

"Oh, my God." I heard the whisper from my right and jerked my head around in fright. Sure enough, my sister had come out of my room and caught me jerking off! She looked me right in the eye and withdrew her hand from her boxers. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, this time at being busted, "I'm so sorry! I just, uh... I needed...you know, it's okay for you to...Oh, shit, I'm so sorry!" She practically leapt around the corner. If this had been a cartoon there would have been a Stacy-shaped puff of smoke, she moved so fast.

"Shit," I muttered as I sat there covered in my own cum, spattered on my chest and stomach and running down over my fingers. I had to make this right. Had she heard me call out her name? Did I even say her name? Dammit, I couldn't remember! I quickly wiped myself off and pulled my shorts back up. The thunder outside continued to roll, more frequently now and much more closely. The storm was upon us.

I knocked on Stacy's door and she asked me to come in. She seemed timid, maybe embarrassed. I needed to take the blame and clear some things. I could only hope she would forgive me. I opened the door and stood in the opening. "Stacy, I"

"I'm so sorry, Thomas," she cut me off. "I'm so embarrassed I don't know what to say." She sounded like she was beginning to cry. Her voice was tense and cracking.

"You don't have anything to apologize for. I should have known better. I mean, we're sharing this apartment and I need to be more respectful of our shared..."

"But you caught me playing with myself right there in the living room!" she burst out crying and covered her face with a pillow, sobbing into it.

I was confused. I was the one on the couch perving on my sister while I jizzed all over myself. What was she talking...OH! Shit! She had her hand in her shorts when I looked over. That must be what she was talking about, and I embarrassed her.

"Stacy." I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. She had her back to me. I touched her shoulder and she flinched a little. "I'm sorry I embarrassed you. I didn't even know. In fact I didn't know you were there or I wouldn't have been...uh...taking care of things myself." I saw her shake and couldn't tell if she was sobbing or laughing. I heard a sharp intake of breath before she rolled over, removing the pillow from her face. Her red face had a smile on it and she wiped her tears away. "I know. And that's another thing I'm sorry about. I shouldn't have walked back out there unannounced." Her smile faded. "I'm really sorry. Thank you for not being mad at me."

"I couldn't be mad at you! I thought you were mad at me! I thought you came into the living room, saw me, and freaked out."

"Well, I did come into the living room and see you. Actually,...ahem...I, uh...I watched you." She looked down and was idly playing with her heart pendant as she said it.

"I'm sorry? Did you say you watched me?" I asked, incredulous.

"Um, yeah. I couldn't help it," she looked at me, protesting my dismay. "You looked so..."

"Yeah? 'So'...what?"

"Amazing," she muttered.

"Amusing, you say?"

"Amazing!" she repeated more loudly.

"Oh." I was shocked.

She continued to look me in the eye and repeated with a wry smile, "Amazing."

"Uh..."

"You look good, T." She glanced down at my crotch, hopefully failing to be subtle rather than openly expressing admiration. That would have just been weird.

And kind of hot.

What if she did, though? What if she wanted me to catch her? Could she want me, too? No, that's crazy. Not Stacy. She's the hot one, not me. She can have anyone she wants. I'm average looking at best. She's brilliant, beautiful, creative, I could go on. But she just told me I look good. No, wait. "Amazing." That's what she said. She said I look "amazing."

"Well...since we're being honest here, in an awkward sort of way, I haven't been able to take my eyes off you since you got here this afternoon."

"Good," she said with a smile. "That's why I dressed the way I did tonight at dinner. I did it for you. I wanted you to notice me. It's why I wore your boxers and this tank top to watch the movie. And it's why I asked you to rub my feet. I needed you to touch me."

"Wow."

"And I know you enjoyed it, too, brother. I felt it on my foot. I know you were hard touching me."

"I don't..."

"And I liked watching you. I'm glad I came in when I did. I got turned on watching you masturbate, T. You looked so good when you came. It was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Stacy, I..." I stammered.

"Yes, brother?" she asked coyly.

"I'm glad you saw." I swallowed hard. "I...I was thinking of you when I did it. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known. You're right that I enjoyed massaging your feet. I just wanted to touch you."

"You know, Thomas," she said, sitting up," I don't really think it's fair that I got to watch you cum and you didn't get to see me. Do you?" Without another word and without waiting for an answer, my sister lay back and lifted her right knee so that her foot was flat on the bed, and looking me in the eye she slid her right hand into the waistband of her shorts. I could tell when her hand reached her pussy because she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. After a moment, she settled down again and looked me in the eye. I looked down to see her arm moving in small smooth motions: circular and then up and down, while her hand gave her secret pleasure inside the green plaid boxers.




Stacy King and I



I followed her body up to her heaving breasts where her nipples were poking out through her tank top, harder than I had seen them earlier in the day. While her breasts were tremendous, her nipples were not overly large, surprisingly. Occasionally Stacy would open her eyes and look at me, from my eyes to my crotch, but then back to my eyes. After a few moments she would close her eyes again to focus on her own pleasure. 

My dick was again rock hard and straining against my shorts, but I didn't dare touch it. I was tempted, but as far as I knew we were playing to even the score, so she was just catching up. I didn't want to risk that by blowing my second load in her presence.

I was practically hypnotized by her subtle, yet apparently effective performance. Her hips began moving in circles and she was writhing on the bed right beside me. She opened her eyes to look at me again, never changing pace, and moved her left hand from under the pillow, and she snaked it up under her shirt to give a silhouette of her feminine hand against the straining cotton fabric. I watched her hand make the journey from the hem of her shirt, up to her right breast before the knuckles arched as she grabbed a handful of her own breast. She continued to watch my face, alternately opening and closing her eyes. She would begin moving her left hand from nipple to nipple, her hand changing the landscape of her shirt as she stroked her breast, grabbed handfuls of flesh, and pinched her own nipples.

Soon enough her breathing became frantic and she began letting out guttural, almost imperceptible moans. Her movements became more frenzied and her brow furrowed almost as if in concentration, but her eyebrows raised and her eyes suddenly squeezed shut while her hips thrust at the quickened pace of her hand.

She looked at me and with an excited tone, she called to me, "Thomas! Tho...oh...T! Look! Watch me! Your sister is cumming on your bed! Watch me cum for you, T!"

My eyes were glued to her face and we locked eyes as she convulsed and lost all breath, small noises escaping her throat while her mouth held open wide before her eyes rolled back into her head and a final long grunt dragged out over her pink lips and perfect teeth.

After a few moments, she dropped back onto the bed, exhausted. Looking at me with sleepy eyes, she drew her hand from her shirt, resting it beside her on the bed, her fingers touching my hand. She pulled her other hand from her shorts, glistening with her orgasm. Looking me in the eye, her hand approached her mouth and I watched her as she sucked on each of her fingers, cleaning them of her own arousal. 

She crooked her finger, beckoning me closer. As I leaned in, she placed her index finger on my lips, the finger that had just been rubbing her clit or possibly had been fucking her pussy. I could smell her pussy on her hand. Pressing her finger to my lips, she whispered, "Shhhh. This is our little secret."

End chapter 1