25 comments/ 28535 views/ 45 favorites Shame the Summer Skies By: GrandTeton You know, I'm not too sure what's likely to happen now. The last time I was home, a couple of years ago, I was booted out. It would have been literally on the toe of my father's boot if I hadn't been moving so fast. I threw my stuff into my old beater and lit off. Mom - Sophie - had invited me, well, ordered me, back. My dad, Stan, was married to my stepmother, Sophie. From what I could catch, Stan had more than a few out-of-the-home girlfriends. I think Sophie was having an affair. This was none of my business, but it was probably transferred guilt or something that led them, well, Dad, to kick me out so hard. Of course, the fact that I was having it on with my half-sister gave him an excuse. My mother, Marilyn, had divorced Dad about a year after I was born because of his philandering, and especially his affair with Sophie. Sophie had been his secretary and had made a determined, and successful, effort to take Dad away from Marilyn. I still don't know why she wanted the old bastard. From pictures, and from what I'd learned of my mother in the past few years, since I've re-contacted her, my mother was quietly intelligent and calmly beautiful. Sophie was pretty spectacular. I think Sophie deliberately overlooked the fact that Dad had a fling with every one of her successors as his secretary and most of the ladies at the country club. She didn't much care who he screwed as long as he came back to her, or at least didn't leave her high and dry the way he'd left my mother. I'm not that sure she was really interested in having him back. In her place I wouldn't have been. Sophie had presented Dad with my sister, Marnie, two years after I was born. I treated Sophie as my mother and Marnie as my full sister until I left home. As far as Marnie was concerned, I'd always been there. Sophie hadn't made any distinction between us, even though I wasn't her blood child. She hadn't pushed it and she hadn't hidden it. When I first started asking why Marnie and I didn't look as much like each other as other brothers and sisters I knew, she explained right out, and made it clear that it made no difference to her. I don't know that Sophie was a particularly moral person, with all her affairs, probably mostly revenge affairs, but she was a kind and loving mother to us both, and I liked her. I think Dad made sure he kept me as some kind of status win over my mother, or maybe to save child support. He was always a cheap bastard. My mother didn't have the money or the strength to fight him, and when she figured out he was prepared to drag the fight out for years if he had to, she let go of me to keep me from being torn apart between them, or so she told me later. Dad even refused her visitation. I don't think she got spousal support. For reasons I've never understood properly, Dad didn't like me, his son and heir, but always adored Marnie. Surely it was more than just that I took after my mother's looks and Marnie took after Sophie. Neither of us took after Dad, which was probably just as well. I'm pretty sure that my mother was never unfaithful to Dad, which is not something I can say about Sophie. Of course, my mother and Dad were only married a couple of years. I'm a little surprised Marilyn never remarried. She told me a few months ago that once was more than enough. You have to have more background than I've given you to understand just what was going on, and why things went the way they did when I came back. I'll start about four years ago, just after Marnie's eighteenth birthday. At least, that's when things started to heat up. *** Marnie was Daddy's little darling, spoiled and petted. She was good looking but not gorgeous. Marnie was probably five seven, an inch or two taller than Sophie. Her breasts were quite a bit smaller than her mother's impressive chest. She had the same mane of blonde hair which she wore attractively styled. Her figure was more svelte than voluptuous, which is a kind way to say skinny, but still good, including an ass to die for. Sophie kept herself in shape and knew what to do with makeup. She was good about making sure Marnie knew the tricks. However good looking Marnie might have been made up to be, she never looked cheap. Sophie may have been wanton, but never, ever cheap. Dad had overgifted Marnie for her birthday, and I know some of the gifts were inappropriate. I realize the eighteenth, where we are, anyway, is a significant milestone, marking the transition from childhood to legal adulthood. That doesn't make the gift of sexy lingerie from father to daughter - very clearly just from the father - appropriate. Sophie was shocked by it when Marnie opened it. So was I. I couldn't tell what Marnie thought. Marnie was good at that. I got Marnie a watch. Sophie bought her a very nice necklace and earrings. Marnie didn't get a car for her birthday. Dad waited until Christmas for that. Dad kind of ogled Marnie, I thought. He waited by the bathroom to see her come out. He never turned his head if she had to adjust her slip or something. Of course, Marnie was a decent looking girl, and I had my own trouble keeping my eyes properly directed when she was around, but I was a conventionally horny twenty-year-old, and he was an old man. He had to be at least forty-four. It seemed to me that after her eighteenth birthday, Marnie started acting a lot sexier around me. She kind of avoided that with Dad. It might have been all in my eye, though, since I'd started having sexual thoughts of her. That was all wrong, since she was my sister. Have you ever tried to get rid of a sexy thought by telling it to go away? It just makes it worse for me. I think of my sister's dinky little tits and instead of that thought convincing me she was nothing like as hot as Flo Thompkins, my current flame, whose tits were almost as big as Sophie's, I wondered what it would be like to cup them in my hands and suck all of one into my mouth. I don't think anybody's got a mouth big enough to suck in one of Flo's, though plenty have tried. I got one about half in, myself. Flo used to say she was a virgin, but nobody I knew could say how that could be. Just to show how stupid I was, after we'd had a grand session where she came a couple of times and then I nailed her ass to the bed so we both came, I asked her. "Paul, I'm a virgin as far as being fucked in my ass by Jimmie Cooper in the church belfry - that's never happened yet." Oh. That could have been true. I'd fucked her in the ass in the church belfry. It had been pretty hot for us both. I'm surprised Jimmy Cooper missed out, but I wasn't going to ask. I hoped to get her ass in another few minutes. I did. It all started to come apart, or together, depending on which side of the fence you were on, one day when Marnie and I were in the pool. Of course we had a pool. We had whatever made Dad look good in the community. That was his goal in life, to look good in the community. That, and nailing every woman he could. For some reason he wasn't satisfied with Sophie, who was still a really attractive woman. Go figure. I'd been getting more and more turned on by Marnie. I suppose it wasn't fair to say it was her doing, really. She'd just been spending a lot more time with me. She'd tend to slide over my way when Dad was around, things like that. Marnie's always been nice to me, even when sometimes, from jealousy, mostly, I hadn't been all that nice to her. We'd been pretty decent with each other since a bit before I started college. We knew we weren't going to see that much of each other from then on, and in the kind of tacit agreement siblings sometimes come to, we'd agreed to be friendly. We didn't want to waste the time we had left together. I knew Marnie was pleasant with me, but we weren't all that close. She'd go shopping with her friends and I'd hang out with my friends, or maybe go off with Flo and fuck. Flo couldn't get enough cock. She used to say she didn't care how much, she cared how often. So if Jimmy Thorbjarn, who had eight inches, couldn't get it up again for an hour, but my normal sized dick was raring to go again after fifteen minutes, and it usually was, I won out. I usually managed about three tries with Flo before I was totally spent, and I guess that kept her going out with me for a while. I knew it wouldn't last. Flo would be chasing off after new meat before too long. That had been our understanding from the beginning. I wonder if Flo ever banged Dad? Even though Marnie and I didn't do all that much together, we ended up spending a lot of time together. After a while, I started to include her in what I was doing (well, not with Flo, though I suspect it wouldn't have put Flo off; she'd just have been pissed Marnie didn't have a dick, too; there was fifteen minutes while I was getting up again that could have been put to better use). A couple of times I drove Marnie over to go shopping, and one time when she was getting a new bathing suit she dragged me in to give advice. I suspect, now that I know her better, that she was judging how good the suit was by how hard I was getting, and ignored what I said. I suppose I did have my own personal Marnie hot-o-meter. Now that I think about it, Marnie wouldn't let me wear my really baggy jeans that day. I've got to admit that for a small-breasted, ordinarily pretty girl, Marnie was a sexy piece of goods. I've never bothered to figure out if I was the only one who thought that. Marnie dated a bit, but usually guys whose fathers were clients of Dad's. I thought they were all spineless assholes, but I wasn't going out with them, Marnie was. That business with the bathing suit was very hot, at least for me. Dad never objected when Marnie got something revealing. Sophie would just make sure it looked elegant, not cheap. I think Sophie told her she couldn't make a sale if the goods weren't on display. I keep saying Marnie and I weren't all that close despite the additional time we were spending together, the things we did together, and all the time we were starting to spend finally talking to each other and just being with each other, a really comfortable feeling. Looking back on it, I was in denial. My spoiled little sister - Marnie was never a brat - and I were getting to be really good friends, almost best friends. I probably had some residual from being eight or something, when boys weren't supposed to be friends with girls. Remember - oooh, Marnie noogies. I guess at twenty I still figured guys couldn't be friends with girls. They were just there as fuck toys. Shows what you miss when you've been socialized the wrong way, I suppose. I wasn't all that upset when Flo found someone with a bigger cock who could rise to the occasion at least as fast as I did, so she was getting more just as often. I figured she'd wear him out, and it had been our understanding, after all. I started looking around, and thought maybe I should try for a girl a little less well-endowed, maybe one I could get more of in my mouth. Cindy Johnson seemed interested, and we went out a couple of times. Cindy had really nice legs, but her ass was a little flabby and she had an extra tuck in her stomach. I wasn't into pornstar goddesses, but Cindy was a pretty inert fuck. She just giggled, and I had no idea whether I'd brought her to orgasm, though the giggling did peak at the appropriate moment. I suppose it was when she thanked me that I figured she wasn't worth chasing: "Ooh, George, that was just wonderful. We'll have to do it again soon. How are you for three o'clock Saturday?" I wasn't too fond of being scheduled in to service the mistress, who was repairing her makeup, and I didn't know who George was, unless it was that nerd George Reilly, who as far as I knew hadn't banged anything in his life, a life which was likely to be celibate. Cindy had decent tits, though, a good handful and a bit, and I could get about two-thirds of one in. They tasted good. I regretted the fact Cindy had the conversational ability of a seat cushion. I hoped her next boyfriend would share her interest in curtains. It really surprised me when I found myself telling Marnie about my girlfriends, down to the intimate details. Maybe I thought she was one of the guys, though I didn't posture with her the way I would have with them. Cindy was popular enough, so I would have had to tell my buddies what a wonderful lay she had been, and what a great ass she had. It didn't seem strange to be telling Marnie that Cindy had been pretty much a dead fish whose ass sagged. Yeah, it should have been strange, weird, even. You don't discuss your sex life with your little sister, even a sister as close as Marnie was to me, now. Especially you don't tell her that her ass is a hell of a lot better than Cindy's. But I did. It was getting on for midsummer when I started going out with Deirdre Bingham. Dree had smaller tits than Flo or Cindy, but still a pretty good handful and just about a perfect mouthful. She would do just about anything except fuck straight up. She was saving that hole for her intended, whoever that turned out to be. It wouldn't be me. I think I took her anal virginity, since she didn't have a hymen for her asshole, but maybe not. It had been pretty tight, and she came gangbusters when we did it. Dree couldn't talk about anything except marriage and settling down, and I had at least two more years of college, and probably a master's after, before I could even think of getting married. There was the night I'd eaten Dree's pussy and had her really hot and bothered, and if I'd wanted to I could have taken her cherry. I was pretty sure she would have let me, but it would have amounted to a proposal of marriage with her, and I didn't think she was on the pill. I could have used a condom, but I wasn't proposing marriage to anyone, even by implication. I heard Dree had to have an abortion the next year because whoever knocked her up had run off, or been married, or something. Her dad had the white shotgun and everything, but couldn't find him. I'm glad it wasn't my kid. When I told Marnie about my escapade with Dree, she just informed me firmly that she was on the pill and hadn't any intention of taking up with anyone permanently as yet. I didn't stop to wonder why she'd gifted me with that information. It wasn't anything I needed to know. I kissed her full on the lips for being there for me for that one. Felt kind of good. She had the softest lips. Next I went out with Marsha Hayes, whose boobs weren't a lot bigger than Marnie's. They were delicious. She was about Marnie's height, too, maybe an inch shorter. Marsha was a bubbly sort, who loved sex. She'd been on the pill for years. Going out with a college guy, since she'd just graduated high school, was a real thrill for her. I wish there was more of me and less of the college guy in why she went out with me, but we managed three dates, and I got my rocks off more than three times, before she found a guy who was going to graduate next year. Marnie laughed at me when I told her about Marsha. "Paul, if you keep going on like this, you might as well go out with me." "Why is that, Marnie? Not that I wouldn't go out with you in a second if you weren't my sister." "That's nice of you, Paul. You keep going out with girls who have smaller and smaller boobs. If you've suddenly developed a fetish for small boobs, mine are the smallest I know of!" It may have been true of her experience, but I knew girls who had even smaller tits than Marnie. There weren't too many, but there were a few. As a matter of fact I'd been thinking of going out with one, Gerri Devon. I wondered whether I had a small tit fetish, or if I was just looking for somebody exactly like Marnie. That thought didn't put me off as much as I thought it should have. I really liked Marnie by this point in the summer, and I suppose it wasn't that unreasonable to be looking for somebody just like her since I liked her so much. Gerri Devon didn't have as nice an ass as Marnie did, though. "You should be flattered, Marnie. I guess I just like you so much, and we've become so comfortable with each other, that I look for girls like you that I can be intimate with." "You just want someone to fuck your brains out, studly, but I kind of like the thought you want her to look like me. I'm not all that much to look at, you know. Maybe you should be looking for someone as pretty as Dree who'll put out." "Having sex isn't just about orgasms, Marnie." How the hell could I be talking to my little sister this way? However it happened, I was. "I want someone I can at least talk to when we're not screwing, and who has some appreciation for me as a person instead of as the representative of something like maturity or money or just a hard cock." "Well, you shouldn't have any trouble avoiding being typecast as the representative of maturity, at least." She laughed. Marnie had the sexiest laugh. You can see that we were so comfortable with each other by now that we could kid each other. As the bra sizes of my girlfriends dropped, Marnie got less and less sensitive about the small size of her own breasts. It was an obvious angle, but I never in my life kidded Marnie about how small her breasts were. "I've got to go, kid, chase up another sample my sister's size." I faked going into a store. Marnie played along. "May I help you, sir?" "Yes, please, I'd like a girlfriend, if you please. She should be about your height, your weight, and be as pleasant to be around as you are." "Maybe you do need me," Marnie murmured as she leaned forward to kiss me, long and lovingly. She had the softest lips. I had trouble getting up. My erection got in the way. For some reason it didn't embarrass me. I'd given up trying to hide the erections Marnie gave me. It hadn't occurred to me to think about why I kept getting erections around her, and not nearly as often around other women. As a horny college student I was forever getting erections around almost any woman, so I thought it didn't signify. I was starting to tell you, a couple of thousand words back, how things got out of hand, or maybe got where they were supposed to be, depending on how fated these things are. Marnie and I were in the pool, not really playing so much as being there with each other, both of us, I guess, deep in our own comfort zones. There was a rough spot on the edge that I hadn't got round to fixing yet. Somehow, I managed to scrape my left thigh quite badly on it. I was bleeding pretty freely, but it was all surface. There wasn't anything like arterial pulsing and I wasn't in any danger of doing more than making a mess by bleeding all over the pool apron. Even that would have been easy enough to clean up, although Dad would have been pissed. "Paul, you're an idiot. Let me clean that up for you." Marnie got a cloth and some antiseptic and a bandage from the first aid kit we kept by the pool for just such eventualities, and cleaned the blood off my thigh. She had her head in pretty close and her legs were tucked under her and I was trying to get a look down her bikini top, just to take my mind off the pain, you know. "Paul, if you don't stop perving my boobs I'll put iodine on your scrape." "They're lovely boobs, Marnie." "All right, since you're being nice I'll forego the antiseptic." She'd cleaned up the blood. There really hadn't been all that much. There were only a couple of places that were still oozing a little, and she bandaged them. Her hand hit my penis by accident. My penis reacted, but Marnie didn't. "Sorry about that," I apologized. "Paul, a woman shouldn't be offended by that signal that you find her sexually attractive." "But you're my sister, Marnie, I shouldn't have sexual thoughts about you." "Just because you find me sexually attractive doesn't mean you're going to do anything about it, you know. You've told me often enough that you've started looking for women like me that I shouldn't be surprised or offended that you find me attractive. I'm rather pleased, actually. I don't think there are that many guys I could give a hard to." Shame the Summer Skies "Sure there are, Marnie, you're a lovely girl." "Paul, I've got tiny tits and skinny legs and an ordinary face." "And an ass to die for, Marnie, don't forget that." "Well, I don't want someone screwing my ass. I'd like to see who's fucking me." "Did I mention your eyes, Marnie?" "Paul, I've got ordinary blue-grey eyes that aren't big enough to drown in." "You should think more of yourself, sweetheart. I do." "I think this is enough of the pool for today, for me, and for you, too. That scrape will be fine tomorrow, but you probably should let it scab over before you go back in the water. Mom's out, I think, and Dad's at work." "You're probably right. I suppose I'd better go change." I was up in my room, changing into something dry, when I heard Marnie calling me. "Paul, can you come in my room for a moment?" "Sure, I'll be right there." When I knocked, even though the door was open, I saw Marnie hadn't changed out of her bikini, yet. It was the one she'd bought when she dragged me off shopping two or three weeks ago, and it still gave me an instant erection. She was fiddling with the snap in back of her top. I laughed at my erection, this time. "Geez, Marnie, how can you always give me an erection? That is one sexy suit." "Paul, I thought since you'd been injured and all, I ought to save you a little trouble. You were trying to see my boobs inside my top, which isn't easy since there isn't all that much to see. This should make it easier for you." With that, she unsnapped the catch and slipped her top off. I was awestruck. I just stared. Marnie's little breasts were just perfect. They were round and firm, upstanding, with dainty little erect nipples. Her areolae were a real pink, standing the tiniest bit above the rest of her smooth white breast, and her nipples, just big enough to suck on, I thought, were the slightest bit darker. Her breasts weren't large - actually they were quite small, almost tiny - but they were perfect, absolutely perfect. My penis lurched as my hands reached for her and my mouth watered, looking forward to the taste of her. I dropped my hands, suddenly ashamed that I'd been going to feel up my little sister. "Paul, you can touch. They won't bite. Then you can tell me how they feel compared to your girlfriends'. Girls like to know how they stack up, you know, even when they're not stacked." That wasn't much of a green light, but I didn't push it. I moved forward, more than a little dazed by what seemed to be happening. I gripped each darling breast with a light touch. I used a finger on each hand to lightly flick Marnie's nipples, watching them get a little harder, a little perkier. The feeling was exquisite. "God, Paul, that feels so good." I kept quiet. I moved my face closer to her chest. I used my tongue to flick each of her nipples. Marnie threw her hands around my head and pulled me closer. She moaned quietly. I dropped one hand to Marnie's bum, pulling her bikini-clad loins into mine, while I gently kneaded one breast and suckled on the other, pulling all of it into my mouth while I stimulated her nipple with my tongue. She tasted fresh and sweet and just perfect. A dream come true. My hard penis fought to get out of my shorts as I pressed it into her sex through her bottoms. "Oooh, Paul, that feels so good, suck on me darling." I switched hands and breasts, caressing the one, now slick with my saliva, my thumb gently rubbing her nipple, while I took the other into my mouth, sucking hard, while my tongue ran over the nipple, absorbing the marvellous taste of my sister. I tried to pull back, to gain release from this sweetness before I went too far, but Marnie held me tight to her. She pressed her loins into my hard penis and her breasts into my face. I was in heaven. I wanted to throw my darling onto her bed and fuck her brains out. I wanted to make sweet love to her all the afternoon. I wanted to taste all of her wonderful self. I had a passing thought that I was a perverted asshole, feeling up my skinny little sister, but it didn't hang around. I was having such a glorious time, enjoying the light of my heart, a light I'd only just recognized as an emotion separate from family feeling and friendship, that I doubt I was entirely rational. Well, I know I wasn't rational, or sensible. "Paul, would you like me to get naked for you?" "Oh, God, Marnie, that would be heaven." Now here was where big brother had to drop the hammer and stop. Brothers and sisters did not get naked with each other. The thought of getting naked with Marnie ran my mind off the rails again, and whatever I should have done wasn't happening. Marnie squirmed out of my embrace and quickly pulled down her bottoms. I dropped my hands to cup her tiny perfect bum. That was wonderful, smooth, curved, solid muscle, no flab, just a little jiggle to it. I caressed it with feeling, my erection torturing me as it struggled to force its way through my pants. Then, suddenly, it was free. Marnie had pulled my pants down as well as her own. She wrapped my penis in her small hand. It was wet with my juices. I slid one hand around to feel Marnie's private parts while she explored mine. She was damp, wet even, almost dripping. "Paul, come to bed with me. Come to bed, love." She pushed against me, her labia pressed against my penis, her perfect breasts with their firm nipples poked into my chest, one hand gripping my shoulder and pushing me towards her bed, the other still wrapped around my penis, also pushing me. My knees hit the edge of her bed and I toppled backward upon it, Marnie following to land atop me, her labia still pressed tight against my penis. Now she held my shoulders with both hands while she kissed me, her tongue hurtling into my mouth to make fierce love to mine. "Marnie," I protested, "we can't; it's wrong." "Tell me you don't want me, Paul; tell me it's not right, so right, Paul." "I can't, love; I can't tell you that. Oh, I do want you, Marnie, no matter what; you're the light of my days. It's so wrong, and so right." I was torn, torn between love and passion and desire for my sister, a desire she shared, a desire she pressed on me, and convention, even common sense, which were rapidly losing any power they had ever held over me. I gave in. I sought to insert myself into her moist and welcoming vagina. "Paul, before we go where I'm dying to go, where I've wanted to go for ages now, you have to promise me one thing. If you put your penis in where I'm willing and waiting and wanting it, where it will make me as happy as ever I could be, you have to promise never to put it in another woman while I'm alive and want you. If we're going to cross the line, it's not just play, Paul, it's as much more as there can be." That stopped me for a time. Marnie's sweet naked body lay atop me, my hands sweeping over her curves and planes and hollows, her warmth inflaming my lusts, her hands continuing to arouse me. My body longed for hers. Still, I stopped and thought. Marnie was telling me she wanted me. She longed for me the way I now longed to possess her. She was willing and wanting to share her inmost self with me. I don't know if I was taking too long for her. She wriggled on me, seeming to promise endless delights. God knows I was delighted with her, her perfect bum absorbing my eyes, her little breasts squished tight into my chest, her lips kissing my face, her skinny legs warm against mine. It would be easy to make Marnie an unthinking promise, to possess her, to leave her if I chose, now or later. I could do that to a passing fancy, some light of love whose physical attractions had inflamed my ardour. I'd almost done that to take the virginity of Dree Bingham. What I couldn't do was to take my best friend's body, offered to me, torturing me with its nearness and availability and desirability, on a passing whim. Marnie wanted me as more, ever so much more, than a passing whim, and despite the fact she was naked and alluringly entwined with me I had to be sure in my own mind that I could, and would, accept her condition as a lifelong condition. Making love to my sister was going to change my life in any number of ways. Marnie was demanding that I agree to be hers, only hers, forever. Forever wasn't the point. That would either be or not be as fate provided. What mattered is whether I wanted forever, at that point in time, discounting her glorious naked self in its immediate availability, even as my hands again caressed the wonderful smoothness of the skin on her back and her bum. I had wandered from woman to woman a fair bit that summer, though generally one at a time. Mostly I'd been the one left behind, the condition Marnie had left open. Was I willing to give up future choices, potential lovers, for one skinny girl I'd never even slept with? Granted, I'd been trying harder and harder to find a girl just like her. Granted, she was the person I most enjoyed just being with, talking to or being silent with. Granted, she was my best friend. Granted, there was no one else I'd even consider making such a promise to. Granted, I wanted to make love to her more than to any other woman I'd ever known. "Marnie, I can promise that, dear. I can promise that as long as you still want me, I will only ever be with you. I can promise that I will never make love to another woman while you are mine." "Paul, I promise to be your faithful and true lover, for now and for always. Now, make love to me, darling, make me yours and you mine." She raised herself up on me and started to ease my firm penis into her wet and willing vagina. I held back, letting her have full control as she eased me in, frequently slipping me out a touch to ensure I was as wet and slippery as she was. She was marvellously tight, gripping me in a warm embrace, sliding me in slowly until finally there was no more of me to go in. "You feel so good in there, Paul. I love having you fill me like that." All the while, of course, I was caressing her body, loving up her breasts and her back and her bum and any other parts of her delicious self that I could reach. I slid my hands over her sweet thighs, tensing and loosening as she slowly raised and lowered herself, twisting a little, seeking the best feelings, her eyes wide and staring into mine, filled with love and joy. Marnie's legs were thin but well-formed, okay but not mind-boggling, pretty much like the rest of her. I thought she was utterly perfect, and I'd never thought that about another woman in all my life. I knew in an intellectual way that Marnie wasn't perfect, maybe not even all that attractive to other men, but what mattered was that, for me, she was utterly fabulous. Now that Marnie had found the angles and positions that gave her the most pleasure she started to move faster, mashing her clit into my pubic bone each time she dropped. I continued to caress her, paying special attention to those marvellous little breasts and their sensitive nipples. There was something about making love to Marnie that took my breath away. Marnie wasn't a quiet lover. She moaned and sighed when she hit sensitive spots, murmured "I love you" and other endearments, finally let out a high-pitched yelp when she came, her orgasm rolling through her, her muscles tightening, spasming as they gripped my sensitized penis and driving me over the edge to my own orgasm. I'd been holding on, hoping Marnie would climax, so when she did I just let go and shot my stuff deep into here, my penis throbbing and firing, again and again. It was one of the best climaxes of my life. "Paul, that's so good, so good, Paul, lover, I love you, wonderful, lovely man." "Marnie, fabulous, doll, lover, love you, baby, love you." We just stayed there a while, Marnie folded over on top of me, my penis in her vagina, feeling the little aftershocks of her orgasm, each of us enjoying the company and the feel of the person who had now become our lover. We couldn't stay there forever, and I softened and came out. Marnie uttered a little sad "oh" when I slid out. Marnie eased off me when I came out, but snuggled in close and kissed while her hands just roamed over me, now and again lightly patting me, almost as if she was proving to herself that I was there. My hands wandered over her, more firmly, as if I were committing her to tactile memory. Maybe I was. I sure didn't plan on letting her go. I don't know whether, when Marnie and I made love that first time, it was her first time or not. She was certainly tight, but she remains tight, a joyful squeeze whenever we are able to make love. I've never asked, believing that some things are better left unknown, respecting her privacy. She's never said, and whenever it might have come up in conversation I have diverted the subject. I don't want to know and I believe she shouldn't tell. I suppose I should be proud if I was her first, but I'm proud enough to have made her mine, and me hers. Nothing else is as important as that. If I wasn't her first, perhaps I would be jealous, though without reason. I'd like to hope I would be more rational than that, but I don't see why I need to test myself. Making love to Marnie was like my first time, raising love to a whole new level. If it was the same for her, as I believe it was, nothing that came before mattered. While we were cuddling, our appetites were returning, and I wanted to taste her so bad. I slid myself down her front, kissing and licking as I went, until I could slide my tongue over her labia, lick and kiss around the entrance to her vagina, thrust my tongue into her depths where I had so recently been, run my tongue around her, seek out her sweet spot, flick her clitoris, then suck it in and thrum it with my tongue until I heard that little high-pitched yelp as she climaxed, bouncing under me with the joy of it, her legs closing on my ears while she tried to pull my head into her. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she whispered through the haze of her orgasm. "Paul, lover, that was incredible, wonderful, fantastic." The sight of the pleasure and joy on Marnie's face and her writhing in orgasmic bliss had me hard again in what felt like no time. I rose over my little darling and thrust into her, slowly again, anxious not to hurt her, trying to prolong her pleasure and my own. I started a slow rhythm. Marnie moved under me, trying to match my rhythm, keeping us close, sharing the loving. Our hands continued to pleasure each other's bodies, sharing feeling and stimulation as we moved together, faster now as the sensations rose in us both, until I could hold back no longer and ejaculated once more into my love's womb. Marnie, quivering herself, absorbed the additional sensation and went over the edge, that lovely little yelp signaling her climax as she wriggled and bounced beneath me. We stayed together another short while, then rose, reluctantly, sharing kisses and caresses, aware Mom would not be too much longer. We showered together, taking pleasure still in our bodies, the bodies we had had in the morning, and the other body we'd each made our own in the past hours. The smell of sex and of our bodily fluids was strong in Marnie's room. We changed the bed. I took the sheets to our laundry while Marnie aired out her room. We were already so comfortable with our bodies around each other that we almost forgot to dress. Making love to Marnie, bringing her pleasure, taking the pleasure she gave me, seemed like the most natural, most right thing in the world. One of very many things I appreciated about Marnie was that she took my exclamations of love and pleasure as true expressions of my feelings. She never asked how it had been for me. I'd told her, and she believed. She didn't need any greater compliment. I complimented her anyway, explaining that I had never had a sexual experience that gave me more pleasure. I looked forward to many more. "Try and stop me," she laughed. *** Marnie told me a few days later how relieved, and pleased, she'd been when I took such a long time deciding how to answer her, even though she'd been aching to have me inside her. It made her sure I was considering my response fully, with the intention of committing myself completely, instead of making a facile answer driven by my need to get myself off. She told me it made her love me even more. *** There were now only about three weeks left before we were to leave for school. We were not going to the same university, or even one within reach of the other. We tried to fit in as much time together as we could, but even at that we didn't get too much sex. One day Marnie and I went to the local beach, a short stretch of rocky ledge on a slow moving river. We splashed around happily in the shallows, Marnie in the same killer bikini she wore, or rather, took off, when she seduced me. It made me happier to think of it that way sometimes, even though I don't think that's what really happened. I think, most times, that our love just overpowered the both of us, pushing us into our forbidden relationship. Mostly, of course, I didn't think about it at all. I had Marnie and Marnie had me and that's what mattered to us, not who was whose brother or sister or how it had come about. A few hundred feet downstream there was a lagoon with a big rock we sometimes dove off, as the lagoon, or backwater, was quite deep at that spot. It was really private, even though it was only a hundred feet or so from the river proper. When I was younger - a few weeks ago, before I discovered Marnie - a bunch of us used to go skinny dipping there. Sometimes just guys, but as often as we could arrange it there was mixed bathing, as it says in the brochure. I don't know that there was that much bathing after the first dip, but there was a lot of mixing and joining. I guess a group of the girls sometimes went skinny dipping, too, but I wasn't there, having failed the physical. It was on a warm summer's night at the lagoon a couple of years ago that I was introduced to the joys of sex by a generous woman who hadn't had enough from her own man, who was, I believe, off banging the girl I'd brought. The old swimming hole wasn't conducive to faithfulness. Marnie and I figured we could maybe get a little time to ourselves if the swimming hole was as deserted as it tended to be during the day. We were in luck. As far as I could see there was no one around, and no one was parked where we used to leave our cars. When we got to one of the more secluded parts, I stripped Marnie's bikini off her and she pulled down my swimming shorts. I suckled right onto her breast, feeling the other, flicking its nipple, while I used my free hand to caress her lovely ass. Marnie hugged me and kissed my neck and shoulders. I switched breasts - I was fixated on her breasts - and Marnie used a hand to make sure I was ready and hard. I enjoyed it, but it wasn't needed when I was around her. She patted my ass with her other hand. Marnie didn't weigh much and the ground was rocky. We'd missed the mossy lawn area, or it was in another glade. I picked Marnie up. I wasn't a big strong guy, but Marnie was pretty light and she helped, too. I slid her onto my penis, and just stood there a moment enjoying her tight grasp. I always enjoyed Marnie. She was great company and great sex. I backed Marnie up to a younger maple, with smooth bark, and proceeded to make love, sliding in and out with increasing speed. Marnie had her hands on my shoulders, holding on, her breasts pressing into me. I held her by the bum, that wonderful ass. We kissed passionately, our tongues making love while my penis adored her vagina. My rhythm sped up. Marnie didn't have much chance to press back, but I could feel her trying and could feel her grabbing me each time I stroked in. It was a delicious feeling. I wanted to keep going, to just ease in and out forever, but the force of my arousal pushed me into coming, hard, spurting strongly into her. Marnie went off a little after I did, that cute little yelp signalling her climax, as her vaginal muscles massaged me and we both slid down the tree. Shame the Summer Skies We were lying there hugging each other, both of us temporarily spent, when we heard voices. We were into our suits in no time. We couldn't afford the time to wait them out, even if they didn't discover us. That wasn't a place you went swimming with your sister, either. They weren't going to go away. There were four of them, there for the same reason we'd gone, and one of them was a buddy. I managed to get Marnie facing away from them and hunched down a bit. "Gerri's got a really nice ass, Paul." "Wait until you get your hands on it, Frank." We got out of there. Frank thought I'd been making it with Gerri Devon. I'd told him I was going to make a play for her, before getting together with Marnie made it unnecessary, and he'd put two and two together and got three, just the way I'd hoped. I wonder if Frank ever scored with Gerri and found out her ass wasn't nearly as wonderful as the one he'd been ogling as I hustled Marnie away. Just about getting caught and blowing our cover put the swimming hole out of bounds for us for the future. I'd forgotten that we had to be more of a secret from our friends than even from ordinary passersby. Another time we tried in a patch of woods, and ended up with ants in our pants, literally. Once I rented a room in a sleazy motel about a half hour away from home, far enough that word was unlikely to get back to Dad. Marnie was really uncomfortable with it and we got out fast when we saw Dad ushering his latest conquest into the room next door. I know Dad didn't pay much attention to my old beater, which was a pretty common make. That was the only reason we didn't get busted that time. What was left for us was our rooms at home, hers and mine, and we made love when we thought it was safe. We might have been paranoid about our chances, but Mom and Dad were unpredictable in their comings and goings. Dad was usually gone on a weekday, and a few times we knew Mom would be gone for at least a couple of hours. You know, they say stolen fruit is the sweetest, but I don't think so. Most times we were so on edge, worried about someone coming back early, we didn't enjoy our time together nearly as much as when we felt safe from discovery, or that first time when we just didn't care. Once we planned to get together in a few minutes and Dad popped in. He'd forgotten something. Needless to say, we couldn't bring ourselves to try again that day. I was never sated. When we found some time together the last night before we both left, we both crawled into my bed and kissed and hugged. We knew it would be the last time for a long time, maybe even forever. We made love together slowly and lovingly. We came when our bodies told us we couldn't stand more ecstasy. Marnie choked her usual yelp in the pillow. We didn't think anyone was home, but there was no point running more risks than we had to on this last night. Afterwards, we lay together, kissing and hugging. "I'll miss you, Paul, more than I can say." She flipped my flaccid member. "And remember, love, that's just for me." Even after our all too brief time together, I was going to remember. *** Marnie e-mailed me nearly every day while we were at university, and I always replied, even if it was only a few lines. Her school was a long way east, and mine was almost that far west, so it had been totally impractical for us to get together during the term, no matter how much we each wanted to. I think it was during this enforced separation that I started to really fall in love with her. I'd always loved Marnie, as my sister. We'd had a few fights, mostly from my jealousy of how well Dad treated her, compared to me. For the last year or two there hadn't even been that. In a strange kind of way, once I'd started college we both knew we didn't have much more time together and neither of us was going to waste it fighting over things that didn't mean that much when you got down to it. I still loved Marnie as my sister, even after we started having sex. It did feel uncomfortable to be having sex with my little sister. We didn't talk about it. Probably we should have, even if it meant we would break off. We enjoyed the purely physical part of it. We liked the touch of each other. It was kind of a continuing discovery for us both, the way we'd explored the back woods near our cottage together when we were younger, or even the way we'd caught Sophie in one of her indiscretions the previous summer. We were each exploring new territory with our best friend, and it was a lot of fun. When we were apart, though, I started comparing Marnie with the other girls at college, the ones I was expected to choose a wife from, I suppose. Marnie could hold her own with most of them, but she was just average pretty, smaller breasts, as good an ass as any, legs on the thin side. She had nice hair. There were enough better looking women, some of whom would look at me twice, that I knew my attraction to Marnie had to be more than the usual physical attraction to a good-looking girl that any horny male my age had, although there was that, too, of course. I remember the night I went out with one of the Homecoming Queen princesses. She was a really beautiful girl, but uninteresting. I suppose she would have interested someone who shared her interests about campus politics and society, over and above her obvious physical attributes, but that wasn't me. We smooched a bit, and maybe she'd have gone farther, maybe not, but I kept seeing Marnie when I looked at her and couldn't bring myself to ask. It wasn't even my promise to Marnie that held me back. It was that she wasn't Marnie. We were separated, but instead of jerking off over my memory of her body, which did happen, of course, I usually ran through my memories of her all the way from being a little girl to the last time I saw her, when we took her to the airport to go off to university for the first time. In my mind's eye she was some kind of ideal. She was the best sister, the best friend, the most interesting person I knew. Marnie had always been a pretty good kid. She wasn't perfect. Angels didn't live in our part of the world. Allowing for that, I found Marnie caring, modest, helpful and enthusiastic. She had a subtle sense of humour as often aimed at herself as anywhere. No matter how Dad tried to spoil her, she was never mean. Even the day we got together she was trying to be helpful. Marnie had absorbed a lot more from Sophie than just how to do make-up, or how to take care of her body. Sophie really had been a pretty good mother to us both. She made sure we were both well-behaved, well-mannered children in spite of the airs Dad might have preferred we put on to enhance his perceived position in our community. Dad was proud of being a competent, and rich, and well regarded lawyer in the community, but was entirely too fond of the social position that brought him. Sophie taught us to be comfortable with ourselves, and to only want enough. She was a long way from being the wicked stepmother of myth and legend. Marnie and I both loved her dearly. When I was thinking about Marnie, I remembered what good friends we were. I remembered when I'd been a little asshole, and done something mean to her out of jealousy. I remembered that she never held it against me. It was almost as if she knew exactly what was in my mind, and that petty acts of cruelty from me were part of the price she paid because Dad spoiled her. It was really as if his special attentions were unwelcome. I know it was because Marnie accepted whatever rotten thing I'd done without rancour that I did less and less to her as I grew older. I started to discover that it wasn't Marnie's fault, and probably wasn't even what she wanted. Marnie helped me grow up. I like to think that I'm a half decent person, my relations with my sister aside, and if so that's due to Sophie and, just as much, Marnie. Marnie always expected the best from me. You know yourself that when that happens, you do your best to meet those expectations, and eventually you grow into them so they become part of your natural behaviour. I'd want the mother of my children to be like that. The first time that thought crossed my mind I was aghast. I'd just come up with the first criterion for my future wife, something I'd want to be sure she possessed, and the only person I could think of who had that quality was my little sister. As time went by and I thought more and more about Marnie, I worked out that while some women I knew had some of the qualities I'd like to find in a wife, only Marnie had all of them. Perhaps my list of preferences was built on Marnie's characteristics, but they were all good things to have. I wasn't able to think of something I'd want in a woman Marnie didn't have, except maybe to be the most gorgeous creature of all. I guess if Marnie was good-looking enough for me that was all that mattered. Unlike Dad, I didn't much care what other guys thought about the women I went out with, or might eventually marry. I mean, she was for me, not fuel for someone else's wet dreams. Part of my thinking really boiled down to the fact I missed her. I missed the sex, too, but I didn't have to have Marnie to have sex. The opportunities were there. And then I figured out I did have to have Marnie to have sex. I only really looked forward to and enjoyed sex with someone who was a friend, with a delightful sense of humour, who was sweet, and kind, and caring, and cared about me. That kind of put a damper on any sexual escapades I might have considered. I'd promised Marnie, sure, but it was a different thing to find out that I really didn't want to have sex with someone else. It was when I started to figure out that I wanted to be around Marnie even if there couldn't be sex that I actually understood that I was in love, real love, not just frustrated lust, even though that was there too. I loved Marnie as a sister, I loved her romantically and lustfully, and I loved her in the way that made me want to spend the rest of my life with her. When I finally figured out that was where my head was, it was almost Christmas. I was scared to go home to see her again. I had no idea what Marnie thought about all this. I didn't know whether I could share my thoughts with her, or whether it would scare her away. As far as I was concerned, it was a secret that I had to share with her. We couldn't have secrets from each other, not that kind. It was kind of stupid to love Marnie and not tell her. If she didn't love me, there wasn't a lot I could do about it. If she did love me, we had plans to make. Our planes were landing within a half hour of each other. I was down first. Dad was particularly grateful that fate had arranged things to save him a second trip out. He didn't know Marnie and I had taken special care to have it work out that way. Marnie knew that if I'd landed second, or required a second trip, I might well have been left there. "I'd have come for you, Paul," she emailed. Dad sort of grunted when I came out of arrivals but Sophie gave me a big hug. She was still Mom for me. Dad was a lot more demonstrative when Marnie came out. "Hello, my precious," he said as he hugged her. "It's wonderful to have you home again." He kissed her full on the lips. I was jealous. Those were my lips, or so I hoped. I did notice she didn't kiss back. Sophie kind of accidentally bumped him, ending the kiss. "Let's get her luggage," she instructed. I already had mine. I didn't have enough to bring home that I needed anything except my carry-on. It wasn't as if we were a church-going family. I didn't need a suit. I was surprised Dad hadn't belonged to a church in the community, since that was a good way to connect with people and attract custom. He once explained it to me, when he was feeling less hateful towards me than usual. "Well, Paul, the various denominations tend to be competitive, even Catholics and Protestants. If I side with one, the rest will hate me, or at least go off to the competition. As a neutral, I'm a safe haven for all of them. You don't have to be a churchgoer any more to be sufficiently moral to do legal work for someone." We picked up Marnie's bag. She'd brought a big suitcase, the kind with wheels, as well as a carry-on about the same size as mine. I was the one relegated to towing the big case out to the car. It was nowhere near as heavy as it looked. "We have a couple of parties to go to before Christmas Day, but we should be around most of the time to have happy family times," Dad chortled. "It will be grand to spend time with you, Marnie." Sounds pretty blunt and one-sided, doesn't it? That's the way Dad was, at home. I imagine he wasn't quite so blunt at work or in court, but maybe that's why he was blunt at home. Marnie was his darling, more than she wanted to be, I thought, while I just happened to be around. It was clear enough that no tears would have been shed if I hadn't made it. Sophie grabbed my hand to show me she cared, which was nice of her and not any kind of surprise. Sophie loved us both. I guess I was lucky that Dad monopolized Marnie. I was so happy to see her I might have gone way overboard with it, and we certainly didn't need that. I had no idea what might happen. Dad would have a fit of some kind. Sophie might have gone ape, or she might have accepted that her two sweethearts were actually in love with each other. The first chance I had to talk to Marnie came the next day, when we'd agreed to shovel off the walk. There hadn't really been enough snow to justify getting the snowblower out. We dressed warmly, not yet sick and tired of boots and gloves, the way we would get later in the winter. It only took a few minutes with the scraper and Marnie wielded the broom. It might get above freezing the next day, so we were really just doing ice prevention. When we were done we put the tools away in the garage. Marnie turned to go back into the house. "Marnie, I don't want to get you mad or upset you, but I want to tell you something, and I need to know what you think of it." "All right, Paul, go ahead." "Marnie, this isn't the right time or the right place, but that will probably never happen. I want you to know I love you." "I love you, too, Paul," she said, her tone conveying her uncertainty. We'd told each other often enough that we loved each other. It had been true, from a brother-sister side, even from a sex partner's viewpoint. "Marnie, I didn't understand, until I went away, that after this summer I'd fallen truly in love with you. I've always loved you as my sister. I love you as my sex partner, my lover. I think, no, I'm sure, that I love you as in forever." "Oh, is that all? You scared me. Paul, I've loved you, as in forever, for a very long time. I don't know how many years, since I think it just kind of grew on me until one day I realized that you were what I wanted in my life, if I could get it. We have good sex, when we can get it." She laughed. "Paul, I knew you loved me 'forever' before you left for university. It was clear from the affection you showed me, even, maybe especially, when we couldn't have sex. That's the only reason I could stand to be apart from you. I guess it always takes us longer to sort out our own feelings. Thank you for telling me. It makes me feel really good, to know that the love I have for you is returned, and you think enough of me to tell me. I love you, too, dear." We kissed and hugged. "Time to go in, sweetheart," I said reluctantly. She nodded. We left the rather prosaic scene of a garage floor on a cold day where we had, sort of, vowed undying love for each other. We had more accurately exchanged our mutual recognition that we were in love with each other. I think we both felt pretty good. I felt horny, too, but that wasn't going anywhere as long as Dad and Sophie were home. *** It seemed like Mom and Dad were home all the time. There'd been the two parties Dad had mentioned. For the first, old family friends, Marnie and I were expected to attend. With the second, mostly Dad's clients, I think, the problem was that Dad and Mom had one hell of a fight and Dad went off to the party in a fury and Mom stayed home with us. I don't know what the fight was about, but Marnie's name was tossed around a fair bit. Dad was late getting back. On the other hand, Dad wanted to spend a lot of quality time with his daughter and Marnie did her best to make it joint time. I wanted to spend quality time with Dad's daughter, too. Even at New Year's Eve, Marnie and I didn't get much more than a hug and a kiss at midnight, the way Dad hovered around her. When we went back to university, it worked out that we hadn't had a safe opportunity to make love to each other the whole time we'd been home. I was frustrated, but not as much as I would have been if I hadn't seen Marnie. I guess it wasn't just physical attraction. We'd spent good time together. We'd talked. We'd been quiet together. Dad was peeved with me for being around Marnie when he wanted her to himself, I guess, but Dad was usually peeved at me for something so I didn't pay much attention to him. Mom gave me a big hug when I left and thanked me for being there for Marnie. It occurred to me that there was something I wasn't being told, but that was pretty common. *** Neither of us got home again until the summer break. Dad preferred that we didn't work in the summer, so we would be available if he wanted or needed us, but more so we could show the neighbours there was enough money in our family that the children did not need to work. That was the first summer, lazy sod that I am, that I felt uncomfortable not really doing anything. All that I was doing was trying to figure out how Marnie and I could get together as often as possible, which wasn't contributing much to the world but certainly made me happy. Marnie seemed pretty pleased with things, too. Finally, we were getting the chance to make love almost as much as we wanted to. Near the end of that glorious summer, Marnie and I thought we were alone in the house. Sophie had gone out shopping, which usually took her the better part of the day. Dad was over at the golf course, probably coming on to one of the wives, since he seldom played. It seemed to be a perfect time for us to have a little nibble on each other, and perhaps a little more. We'd been celibate for a week, and our attraction to each other had been getting stronger over the course of the summer. We both knew our time together was short. Marnie was going into third year at university about a thousand miles away. I'd just graduated that spring - no one came - and I was going into my master's at the university about five hundred miles in the other direction. Likely, after the next week, we wouldn't see each other until Christmas. I snuck up behind Marnie, slipped my hands in front, grasped her beautiful little breasts and heavy breathed in her ear: "Want a little nooky, sweetheart?" "No, Paul." She turned and grabbed my head. "I want a lot of nooky, love," she said as she kissed me fiercely. Well, that was clear enough. I returned the kiss and hugged her close. "Marnie, I love you. I love your sweet little body. I adore being with you. I hate when we're apart." "It's going to happen again, soon, sweetie. Let's go up to my room and make love, Paul. I love you, and now that we have the chance, I want to get close to you again." "Let's." We were hugging and trying to get up the stairs at the same time. It wasn't one of those mad passionate races to the bed, this time. Today we just wanted to be close, and get closer. Once upstairs in Marnie's room, she lay on the bed and I slid her shirt off. She reached behind her and unfastened her bra, then shrugged it off. I stared for a moment at her beautiful little breasts, and she proudly pushed her chest up for a moment. Once Marnie had been unhappy with her small breasts, but knowing how much they turned me on she was now quite proud of them. They were a sufficient mark of her femininity. On an objective scale Marnie was maybe a six or a seven. I didn't care. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world, and told her so, often enough. She was my girl, and that's what mattered.