Helping Sis Pick A Dress
by Lubrican
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Chapter Three
This time I didn't try to avoid Mom when she got home from
class. I hugged her and asked her how it went. She was taking algebra, because
she hadn't taken it in high school. I'd already had it, so I helped her with
her homework when she got stuck. She was pretty smart, though, so I didn't have
to help very often. Usually she just had me check her work. I told her Cathy
was out with Bruce and she asked me what kind of boy he was.
"Harmless," I said.
"You're not just telling me that to ease my mind, are
you?" she asked.
"If I knew she was going out with a wolf I'd talk to
him first," I said.
"Really?"
"It won't happen very often. You won't let her go out
with juniors or seniors. They're the only ones she'd really need to worry
about."
"Like you?" Mom arched one eyebrow.
"I'm one of the good guys," I said.
"I hope so, Bobby," she said. "I hope you
treat girls with respect."
"Of course," I said.
"And you never do anything against their will,
right?"
"Mom, come on. If I did that, they wouldn't go out with
me again."
"I know boys have urges, Bobby, especially when they
get to your age."
I almost asked her if she was going to have the same talk
with me that she had with Cathy, but then she'd know that I knew about
her talk with Cathy, and I was pretty sure Cathy didn't want that.
"I'm handling my urges just fine," I said.
"Good. A lot of parents think masturbation is wrong,
but not your father and me," she said.
You could have knocked me over with a feather! My mother ...
my plain, old, forty-something-year-old mother ... had just said she didn't mind
if I jacked off!
"Uh ... thanks?" I croaked.
"Now I'm all embarrassed," she said. "Go away
and let me get these dishes done."
I knew she was flustered. She was referring to the dishes
from the supper Cathy and I had eaten. Dishes was one of our chores, and we
usually got yelled at if the kitchen wasn't spotless when she got home. The
dishes had been abandoned so I could get naked with my sister.
I didn't tell Mom that, of course.
I didn't "wait up" for Cathy with Mom. Instead, I
lay on my bed and read. I actually fell asleep, and was jolted out of that by
my sister's sharp fingernail in my ribs.
"Get up. Come to my room," she whispered.
I stumbled after her, a little groggy. She was still dressed
in the outfit I hadn't chosen for her. It was more conservative than the one
she'd worn to feel sexy in with Dennis. It was what I'd call a summer dress,
with two inch wide straps over the shoulders and no cleavage at all. It was
flowered. She had on sandals.
"How do I look?" she asked, once her door was
closed.
"You look good," I said.
"Thank you," she replied.
"Mom was probably happier with that," I offered.
"She was. Now, I want you to just look at me."
She struck, a somewhat awkward pose, awkward because it was
a pose, and then twirled slowly. She smoothed the dress over her hips and
arched her chest.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Do I look sexy?"
"I already told you, you look sexy," I said.
"Are you hard?"
I wasn't. She'd just wakened me. My brain still wanted to be
asleep. I looked down.
"Can't you tell?" I asked, looking at the front of
my briefs.
"Why aren't you hard?" she complained.
"Give me a second," I said. "I don't spring
to full hard-on every time you walk into the room."
"Don't be mean to me," she said.
"Look," I said. "It's late. Just tell me what
you want."
"I want you to be hard," she said.
"If you take off that dress I'll be hard," I said.
"So this dress isn't sexy," she said.
"Sit down," I said.
I pointed at her bed and she perched on the edge. I sat
beside her.
"Okay, here's how this sexy clothing business
works," I said. "The girl gets dressed in something sexy, which makes
the man want to take it off of her. The sexier the clothing, the less time she
wears it. That's if the guy has his way. So, when I look at you in that
dress, what I think of is that it's covering up what I know is a killer great
body and since I wish I could see it, I want you to take the dress off. Does
that make sense?"
"Then it doesn't matter what I wear," she
complained.
"In one sense, that's true," I admitted.
"Then what's the point in spending all that money if
you only get to wear it ten minutes?"
"Five minutes," I said, but I grinned. Before she
could complain again, I went on. "A sexy outfit gets the guy going. And
since you have to date lots of different guys, it also makes lots of different
guys want to take you out. So that kind of sexy clothing you get to wear
for a long time. It's the sexy lingerie you only get to show him for five
minutes."
"I don’t have any sexy lingerie," she said.
"I don’t have anybody to show it to, so I don't spend money on it."
"Sure you do," I said. "Your baby dolls are
gorgeous. They make me want to get you naked the minute I see you in
them."
"Really?"
"Sexy as all get-out," I said.
"Stay there and close your eyes," she said.
"Cathy," I groaned.
"Just do it, Bobby," she snapped.
So I sat there with my hands over my eyes while I listened
to the rustle of clothing that meant she was getting undressed. I thought it
was odd that, suddenly, she was shy, but I went with it. Maybe four or five
minutes went by and then she said, "Okay, you can look."
She had put on her baby dolls. This time she had the jacket
on, but left the bra off.
"Is this sexy?" she asked.
I felt my bone stiffen and stood up. I pushed the waistband
of my shorts below my balls and let her watch it go from a sagging,
three/quarters hard-on to full anti-aircraft mode.
She seemed to float over to me and stood close enough that I
could feel her body heat.
"Crystal said she loved learning to kiss with her
brother."
"You already know how to kiss," I said.
"I got horny with Bruce tonight," she said,
leaning even closer.
"Did you let him do anything?" I rasped.
She shrugged off the jacket and took a mini step forward. I
felt the tips of her breasts burn my skin.
"No. I saved it for you."
My hands moved as if somebody else was controlling them.
They slid up her sides and covered both her breasts. I could feel her hard
nipples push into my palms. She closed her eyes and sighed.
"Mmmmm," was all she said.
Part of my brain reminded me she'd referenced how much
Crystal liked kissing her brother.
So I abandoned her breasts and slid my hands inside her
panties to cup her firm butt while I kissed my sister.
You know that saying: Time flies when you're having fun?
Well, not only does time fly when you're having fun, your
brain can go on "pause" while time is flying.
I have no idea how long it was between the first time our
lips touched, to the moment when I regained consciousness. When I did regain
consciousness, we were both stark naked, lying on her bed, and I was lying on
top of her with the most delicious heat surrounding my penis that I'd ever
felt. It took a few very jarring seconds for the realization to sink in that I
was fucking my sister. It was unbelievable, because I couldn't remember starting
to fuck my sister. Then the next thing that registered was that my sister was
not unhappy that I was doing this, because her arms were wrapped around me and
her heels were firmly on the bed beside my hips and her hips were
lurching upwards with more strength than I'd have thought she had in her.
She was making nonsense sounds, some gurgles and moans and
just noises, that seemed to be in time with my thrusts. In the very few seconds
before I was lost again, I was a little astonished that I knew how to do this,
but my prick was slicing in and out of her like I'd done this a hundred times.
Then her voice stopped making nonsense sounds and she
started panting, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh mommeeeeeee," and it
was just obvious she was cumming. I don't know whether it was the knowledge
that my cock was making her cum, or her fingernails puncturing my back, but one
of the two flipped a switch in my balls and they upchucked. This might be the
first time I had fucked, but I'd watched myself cum countless times, and my
mind supplied images of milky white spurts exiting the tip of my penis,
flooding her hot pussy. I did not feel shame. I did not feel remorse. I did not
feel perverted.
What I felt was ... elated.
Later I would feel all those negative emotions, but at the
moment I inseminated my little sister, nothing in the world could have felt
better, or more right.
Cathy wasn't nearly as ambivalent about things.
As we both collapsed, just breathing, her hands kept moving
all over me. Maybe a minute later she started kissing whatever her lips could
find to touch. Some of that remorse was starting to creep in, so I didn't kiss
her back until her hands came to grip my head and make me face her. She
kissed me five or six times, and then breathed, "Thank you," into my
mouth.
By this time I was imagining millions of little sperm cells,
all of which had my face, dolphin kicking their way into her uterus, sniffing
for an egg. Just to show you how surreal this was, my imagination kept going
until I saw one sperm cell sprout arms and a penis as it reached her egg. For
some reason in my imagination, her egg looked like a baby blue Robin's egg.
Hands at the ends of the arms gripped the sides of the egg, and the penis
fucked a hole right into the shell. My face, on that sperm cell, was grinning
maniacally.
"How soon before you can go again?" whispered my
sister. Her pussy suddenly squeezed, and my penis got pushed out of her.
"Oooooo," she complained.
"You're insane," I whispered.
"No I'm not," she said.
"I just got you pregnant," I moaned.
"No you didn't," she said.
That sperm cell in my imagination was now doing a victory
dance, like it had just scored the game-winning touchdown.
"Yes I did," I groaned.
"No ... you didn't," she said.
"How do you know?"
"Because I just started my period while we were doing
that. I can tell."
Have you ever seen one of those videos where a cat gets
startled and jumps straight up in the air? I might have done that. I landed on
my knees and looked down at my penis. It was tinted a little red, and my pubic
hair was also wetly reddish.
"Ewwww," I whined, like a girl.
"Get up. I don't want the covers to get stained,"
she said.
I got off the bed and stood with my hands out. I
didn't want to contaminate them by touching my bloody penis.
Okay, it wasn't bloody. Not really. If she hadn't told me
what had just happened while I was trying to fuck her brains out, I would have
erroneously thought I had ruptured her hymen, maybe. A girl bled when her
cherry got picked, right? She was busy in her bathroom and I was still standing
there, paralyzed when she came back out. I was freaked out, but I still noticed
the little white string that now protruded from between her pussy lips. I'd
heard of this. I had never seen it, of course, but I recognized it instantly.
She had a wash cloth in her hand and came to me. Apparently
my practically comatose nature didn't surprise her. She bent over and cleaned
me up with the wash cloth and went back to the bathroom. My paralysis
dissolved, but I still didn't know what to do. I was really freaked out.
She came back and walked up to me and hugged me, pressing
her hot breasts against my chest.
"I'm sorry. I knew I was close, but I didn't know doing
that would make me start."
"Ewww," I said again.
"It's just blood, you dork," she said, bumping her
loins against mine. "It happens every month."
"I know that," I wheezed. "But geez."
"Actually, this is the first time I didn't cramp when
it started. Bonus, huh?"
"Cathy!" I groaned. "You can't talk about
this stuff!"
"Bobby, we just had sex. I'm not a virgin anymore. I
can't wait until we do it again. We can talk about anything!"
The little sperm cell in my imagination suddenly plopped
down and each of its eyes became an x. It was dead, and it had not succeeded in
impregnating her egg. A great weight was lifted from my shoulders, while at the
same time I felt like a perverted rapist. There was no way in the world she had
consented to what had just happened. I hadn't even asked. I couldn't remember
how it happened, but I knew I hadn't said anything at all, much less politely
asked if I could insert my penis in her vagina.
"I raped you," I whispered.
She punched me. She got me between the bony part of my
shoulder and my left pec, and it hurt. I staggered back a foot.
"Don't you say that!" she hissed.
"I didn't ask," I said, rubbing my chest.
"You didn't have to. I wanted every bit of that."
I blinked. Something on my face caught her attention.
"What?" she asked.
I blinked some more. I was finally beginning to come to
grips with what had happened.
"What are you thinking?" she asked.
"Nothing," I said.
"Don't do that, Bobby!" she complained.
"Something beautiful just happened. Don't close up on me."
"Beautiful for you," I said.
I saw the hurt on her face instantly, and my heart cracked.
"No!" I said. "That's not what I meant."
There were already tears in her eyes, but she was more
patient with me than I would have imagined.
"What did you mean?" she asked.
"It happened so fast. I think I kind of lost my mind
for a while. I can't remember most of it."
"Don't be a dick, Bobby," she said. Now I sensed
anger in her voice.
"I loved it!" said the perverted part of me.
"It's just that I can't remember the details. Like I said, I think maybe I
went a little crazy."
"I'll say," she said.
I covered my eyes.
"Cathy," I moaned. "I think the male part of
me just went on autopilot. That's not how I want to treat a woman."
"Thank you," she said.
"Thank you?" I goggled. "For what?"
"For calling me a woman."
We might have just engaged in patently adult behavior ... but
my sister was still only fifteen.
"So how soon before it will get hard again?" she
asked.
I had never heard of menstrual sex before. I'm pretty sure
none of my friends had, either. That's the kind of thing that would come up on
conversation between a bunch of guys, if only to try to gross each other out. I
suppose it's easier for a woman to contemplate that, since she's used to that
kind of ... condition ... being present on a regular basis. And if you think about
it, what a woman does after using a tampon is really no different than a guy
going to the bathroom. You do your business and you wash your hands. Girls can
piss without even touching their skin and when they wipe, they still don't
touch anything, and even so, they wash their hands after that anyway.
Anyway, after I told my sister I needed some time to think,
and left her room that night, when I got up the next day I did some internet
research. You'll think I'm a little strange, in that the incest angle didn't
bother me as much as having my penis in a menstruating vagina, but that's how
it was. The power of the internet is exemplified, though, when I tell you what
I learned about menstrual sex got rid of my heeby jeebies about the issue. Lots
of people recommend it. I mean lots, way more than just some weirdoes.
I'm talking doctors and that kind of thing.
So, anyway, I went to find Cathy after I got cured of my
phobia of her menses. She wasn't in the house, and there was no note saying
where she'd gone. I knew she was upset, because I had left her room so
abruptly, and I really wanted to talk to her about it.
It may sound strange, but I felt helpless. I couldn't talk
to Cathy. I didn't feel like doing anything. I didn't want to be around any of
my friends. I didn't have any lawns to mow. I just sat there. But I wasn't
bored. Nope. No way.
So, basically, I just sat there and thought about things.
I had fucked my sister. If that wasn't bad enough, I wanted
to do it again. And if that wasn't bad enough, I had thoughtlessly
spurted her full of my sperm. Sure, that sperm wasn't going to get her
pregnant. Not that sperm. But I did want to do it again. And not
just one more time, either. Not to minimize the importance of this, it
was like the first time you talk to a girl you've never talked to before. After
you "break the ice" you feel like now you can talk to her again,
maybe every day. Her status has changed completely, and now there are lots more
possibilities. You just naturally imagine yourself doing things with her, like
eating lunch, or getting a coke.
I had broken a lot more than "the ice" with Cathy,
and now my mind was overwhelmed with fantasies of sleeping with her all night,
and waking up with her and making love before breakfast. I imagined taking
showers with her and oral sex in the shower. I imagined oral sex outside the
shower. I kept having this sort of out-of-body experience where I was floating
in the air, watching my skinny hips between her soft thighs, pumping ... pumping
... pumping, while her arms and legs wrapped around me like some parasite in a
science fiction movie.
It got so bad that I started thinking there was something seriously
wrong with me, like maybe I was a serial killer who just hadn't killed anybody,
yet.
I was trying to figure out what kind of person I would
serially kill and the only thing I could think of was any guy who dated Cathy
and laid a finger on her, when she skipped into the house singing a song at the
top of her lungs. She was dancing, whirling in circles, unaware I was watching
her. She had ear buds in and the only thing that was real for her in that
moment was the song. Then she saw me, sitting there, splayed out in the easy
chair like a heroin addict who had just shot up and was on the nod.
She stopped and stared at me. I didn't know I'd been crying
and my cheeks made that obvious. She pulled the wires and the ear buds fell to
dangle from her hand.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
She looked watery, which was when I realized I'd been
bawling like a little girl. I wiped my eyes with my fists.
"I fucked you!" I yelled.
She looked around and came toward me.
"Tell the whole town, why don't you!" she hissed.
I just stared at her.
She stared back for a few seconds and then grabbed my hand.
"Come with me," she said.
She pulled with surprising strength and I stood up. She
pulled me, rather violently, if you ask me, to her bedroom and pushed me to sit
on her bed. She stood in front of me and stared at me some more.
"Look," said my
fifteen-and-a-half-year-old-sister. "What happened last night was an
accident, okay? It was my fault, because I wouldn't leave you alone."
"It wasn't your fault!" I gasped.
"Shut up," she said, quite calmly. "Just shut
up and let me talk."
I opened my mouth and she reached to put two fingers over
it.
"Shut up, Bobby," she warned. "I know where
your balls are and I'll squash them if you keep trying to talk. You'll get your
turn."
I closed my mouth, but it was more because of the shock of
how her fingers felt, touching me, than her assertiveness. Just the touch of
her fingers on my lips reached deep inside me, somehow, and made me want to
wiggle like a happy puppy. It was fucking crazy!
"We had sex," she said. "You didn't hurt me.
I'm not scarred for life. I don't hate you. I know all those things are true.
What I can't explain is how you did make me feel. Bobby, nothing
like that has ever happened to me. I mean I never felt anything like
that. It was perfect. That's the only word I can think of for it. And then you
got all freaked out because my period started and you didn't ruin it all, but
you really pissed me off because you were being so stupid."
"I know," I said, before she could shush me.
"I was stupid about it."
She leaned toward me and I zipped my mouth and threw away
the key. She leaned back.
"I love you," she said. "I love what
happened. I never felt that special, or powerful, or something. And if
you keep acting all weird about it, you're going to ruin it, and I don't want
you to ruin it because I'll hate you if you do, and I don't want to hate
you right now, Bobby!"
She stopped and just looked at me. I hadn't been given
permission to speak, so I just looked back at her. Maybe a minute went by.
"I can't think of anything else," she said.
I kept looking.
"You can talk, now," she said. Then she held up a
finger. "But don't get all weird and preachy on me, because I don't want
to hear it."
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