Kiss Your Sister

by Lubrican

Chapters : | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Chapter Three

My sister had just asked me if I wanted to push my penis into her scalding hot pussy again. Come on! All those tropes about the pope being Catholic or bears shitting in the woods put together wouldn't suggest how stupid that question was.

I nodded in the dark, but she must have sensed it, because she spread her legs under me. It wasn't until then that I realized her legs had been closed while I was thrusting around all over her. When we talked about it later, we decided that it was her closed legs that had guided my penis right to her waiting vagina.

Now, though, she was being intentional, and she spread her legs. She also reached for my pecker and guided it to her opening with her hand. I was not yet recovered enough to be thinking anywhere near normally, and the cave man was clinging to my back. As soon as I felt that heat on the tip, I rammed it in her. What saved things was that her hand wasn't out of the way, yet, and the knuckles on her fist dug painfully into the tender skin above my penis.

Her groan wasn't a really happy one, and I sobered up really fast, freezing in the process.

"Easy!" she gasped. She removed her hand and, somehow, I sank into her without trying.

I wasn't sure what "easy" meant. I could feel my balls hugging the soft skin of her bottom. My whole penis was inside her, as evidenced by the fact that my entire penis was on fire. Some instinct made me want to push even deeper, and as I did that my hips moved sideways because I couldn't go any deeper.

"Ahhhhhh!" she groaned, and her hips lifted my whole body a couple of inches.

"Should I take it out?" I whined.

"No!" she grunted, and those perfectly painted nails dug into my lower back like Wolverine's steel claws.

Some automatic impulse in my body somewhere had made me start to withdraw as I asked her if I should take it out. It had gotten me a couple of inches out of her, and now her nails caused me to slam back into her with a force that slapped my hanging balls against her butt.

"Ohhhhh," she groaned again, her voice deep and vibrating. Her hands didn't let up, though, so it wasn't a groan of pain. Her nails, in fact, came out of me and that automatic impulse caused me to pull out of her a couple of inches again. Remembering the pain of Wolverine's claws in my back, I slammed back in before that happened again, and Emma's hands came to my waist, her nails sheathed, as she urged me to do that again.

About ten or fifteen short strokes later, my balls blew every bit of my intelligence through my penis and, mixed with a healthy dose of teenage semen and sperm, into my sister's belly.

Having just cum harder than I ever had in my life, I stopped moving. I wanted to lie down, but I sensed I was heavy on her and I was thinking about rolling off of her when her nails dug into my sides.

"Don't stop!" her voice rasped in my ear.

"I have to," I groaned.

Since she wouldn't let me roll off, I relaxed, and my full weight bore down on her. Her hands went around me and to my back.

"Please don't stop, Bobby," she whined.

Maybe the caveman was listening, because energy seeped back into my body and I stiffened my arms, raising my chest. I could feel that I was going soft, and instinct told me if I pulled out, I wasn't going to be hard enough to get back in, so I pushed again and, because I couldn't do anything else, I ground my pubes into her, moving back and forth.

"Yessss," she hissed.

I kept doing that and, at the very last moment, when I knew I had no more energy in my entire body, she gurgled and gasped and her nails dug into me again, painfully, and I realized she was cumming.

She whimpered, "Oh, Bobby, oh, Bobby, oh Bobby" and her completely stiff body went limp. I did, too, and I knew I was crushing her and smothering her, so with the last of my energy reserves, I rolled sideways. My penis came out of her with a distinctly wet, sucking sound, and I rolled to my back, pulling the covers with me.

We both lay there, just breathing, and it sounded so loud that I was sure it could be heard clear at the other end of the house.

Nobody came rushing in, asking what was wrong, though, and slowly, it got quiet in my room.

"We just had sex," I mouthed into the darkness.

"We sure did," came my sister's voice. I realized I had done more than mouthing it.

"Do you hate me?" I asked. The import of all this was beginning to sink in.

"No," she sighed.

"What do we do, now?" I asked.

"Kiss me," she said.

We turned toward each other, moving like old people move when everything hurts, and our lips brushed together. Her arm wiggled under my neck and I rolled half on her again as the kiss deepened.

I realized we were trying to eat each other's faces, just like they did in the movies, and my mind went off on this odd tangent that imagined that every acting couple that kissed like this had, somehow, had sex just before they shot the scene.

Just as suddenly as the passion had created that kiss, it leached out of us and I rolled back off her.

"I should go to my room," she whispered.

I felt like that was a terrible idea, and that if she did that, my bed would feel like it was a square acre in size. It would be cold and lonely if she left.

"Can't you stay?" I whispered.

"Sure, if you want Mom and Dad to find us like this in the morning," she said, her voice almost at normal level. "Besides, I should probably go sit on the pot for a while."

"Why?" I asked, inanely. I wondered why she was mentioning her bowel issues at this point in time.

"I felt you shoot your baby seeds in me," she said. "I should probably let it all drain out of me, don't you think?"

It was only then that I realized I might have just gotten my little sister pregnant.

There is a somewhat helpless feeling a guy has when his lover leaves his bed and "the relationship" isn't really spelled out, or solidified. I suspect it's the same for every guy who has sex with a girl for the first time. There are a lot of unanswered questions, and if she leaves, like Emma did, he is left to wonder about the answers alone. Letting a guy think about relationships alone is never a good idea. I learned this the hard way.

It had been a whirlwind, from the second her hand fell on my naked thigh to the moment she groaned as she sat up, and got out of my bed, naked. By now my eyes used the ambient light from the window as if it were regular bright light. I could see her clearly, and even in the dark, she was beautiful. She was bent over a little and one hand was between her legs. Some part of my mind thought, 'She's keeping my baby seeds inside her on purpose,' which made me feel fantastic, without adding the obvious second part of that thought, 'until she can get to the toilet to let them all fall out.'

My cock gave a whimper and thought about trying to get hard again, but then sighed and sank back into sleep.

She didn't say anything, and that's why I think there were so many questions. If we'd been able to talk about it I could have asked all those questions.

Was she happy?

Was she upset?

Were we ever going to do this again?

Why did she come to my room naked? (She did not pick up any clothes when she left. She just padded out of my room, still nude.)

What had she intended to happen? (I was sure she hadn't intended for us to have sex.)

What was she thinking right now?

Was she worried about being pregnant?

What did all this mean?

And those are just the questions that rampaged through my mind as she crossed the room and slipped out through my door.

There was still a depression on the pillow her head had been on. I pushed my nose into it and inhaled. Her scent was still there.

My penis was completely numb, so much so that I couldn't even feel it. I reached to make sure it was still there, and my fingers ran into a wet mess. I imagined rolling over and that mess soaking into my sheets. My mother would undoubtedly see the stain when she washed the sheets.

For the first time I thought maybe I should become responsible for washing my own clothes.

I got up and picked up the shirt I'd dropped so carelessly on the floor. I rubbed my privates dry and then spread it out on the top of the hamper for the moisture on it to evaporate.

I wondered if what we'd done - what was on my shirt - caused a scent to be in the room that would advertise to the next person who came in that something needed to be investigated. I thought about opening a window, but it was cold outside.

Suddenly I was bone tired. At this point I think I didn't care what happened. I just wanted to go to sleep.

The last thing I did was to set my alarm for six A.M. I wanted to be up and dressed and out of my room before either of my parents woke up.

I wanted them to have no reason at all to open my door or go into my room.

I had dreams all night of Emma opening my bedroom door, and walking into my room naked. Every time she almost got to the bed, everything disappeared in a puff of smoke and the scene started all over again.

The flaw in getting up at six in the morning on a Saturday is that there's nothing to do at six in the morning on a Saturday.

I had rudimentary breakfast skills, meaning I could pour my own cereal and put the milk in it. I knew where the spoons were. But I had never asked my Mom to teach me how to make pancakes, or fry bacon and eggs. When I was finished eating, it was six-seventeen. I was tired, thanks to staying up late, engaging in wild sex with my sister, and then getting up early. I thought about watching TV, but it seemed odd to do that so early in the morning. Plus it would be noisy. I thought about going for a walk, but then people might search for me, which meant they'd go to my bedroom. I hadn't smelled anything when I woke up, but I was aware the nose can get used to odors and ignore them.

It was TV or nothing. I was halfway through Terminator 3, with the volume so low I couldn't hear part of the dialogue, when my mother walked into the living room.

"Please don't tell me you stayed up all night watching TV," she said, sounding annoyed.

"I did not stay up all night watching TV," I said. "I just woke up early and this was all there was to do."

"I think going back to sleep would be on my list," she said.

"I wasn't sleepy. Can you show me how to make pancakes?"

"Where is my son?" asked Mom. "Have aliens abducted him and replaced him with one of their own?"

"Yeah," I said, "And I'm watching Terminator 3 to learn how to take over the Earth."

"I'd be happy to teach you how to make pancakes," she said.

We were right in the middle of that, standing side by side, when she said, "What's that smell?"

"What smell?" I asked as my heart seized in my chest.

She turned her head toward me, sniffed, and said, "You need to take more showers, Bob."

"Got it," I said. "As soon as the batter is done, I'll go take a shower."

"Yes," she said, sniffing again. "Do that. Hygiene is very important when you're going through puberty."

I was in the shower, standing under the spray, when the door opened and Emma peered in.

"You never take showers in the morning," she said.

"Are you insane?" I gasped. Do not ask me why, but I reached to cover my penis and balls with both hands.

"Dad's still in bed and Mom is making cinnamon rolls," she said. "She made pancake batter, too."

"Well, get out of here," I groaned. "Last night was bad enough. It's like you want to get caught!"

"Last night was bad?" She did not leave, and her voice had a tone in it that made the hairs try to stand up on the back of my neck. They couldn't, because of the water hitting them, but they gave it a good try.

"No! Of course not," I said. "That's not what I meant. I only meant it was dangerous."

"Probably not," she said. She was acting like standing in the open door of the shower while I was engaged in taking one was completely normal.

"Emma," I said, trying to make my voice sound sincere. "I love you and I loved last night, but you need to leave before somebody sees you looking at your naked brother in the shower."

"Okay," she said. "We'll talk about this later."

She left and I relaxed.

Talk about what later?

Later turned out to be just before noon, when Mom and Dad said they were going out to eat and asked us if we wanted to go, too.

"I'm really deep into this book," said Emma. "It's getting to the good part and I want to finish it. Maybe you could bring me back some takeout?"

"Well, I guess that's all right," said Mom. She looked at me.

"I couldn't sleep and got up early," I said. "I'd like to take a nap."

"Well, then," said Dad. "I guess I'll take your mother on a lunch date."

"Have fun," said Emma, who turned and headed toward her room.

I actually went to lie down on my bed, but I only got as far as standing there looking at it. I had had sex for the first time in my life on that bed. The sheets probably still smelled like sex, for all I knew. I felt like I was adrift on a big sea that wasn't wet.

Arms snaked around me from behind and hugged me. I felt Emma press the side of her face to my back. It was a decidedly calming and reassuring hug. I wanted to turn around and hug her face to face, but her arms were tight.

"You're acting weird," she said. Her voice was muffled because her lips were against my back.

"Gee, I wonder why," I said.

Now she let go and I turned around. I was shocked by how short she was. I'd had two or three inches on her for a year or more, but I never noticed it until we stood there that day.

"Was it okay?" I asked. I knew that was pretty vague, but it encompassed a lot of the questions I had.

"It was very short," she said, her eyes not shifting from mine.

"Really?"

"I waited for you for two hours and when you finally got there, everything was over in, like, ten minutes."

"Was that why you were waiting for me?"

"No, but I'm not sorry it happened. I just wish it had gone longer."

"You're taking this very well," I said. "I feel like I kind of raped you."

"You didn't rape me," she said, pulling my lower body against hers. "I wasn't going to do that. I mean I didn't intend to do that, but when it happened, it felt like it was supposed to be happening. Does that make sense?"

"I'm not sure any of it makes sense," I sighed. "I didn't mean for it to happen, either."

"Did you want it to happen?" she asked.

"I just said I didn't do it on purpose," I said.

"I know that, but did you think about doing it before? Like when you were jerking off?"

"Probably," I said, carefully. "I think about a lot of things when I do that."

"You mean you think about a lot of girls when you do that," she corrected.

"Well, yeah, I guess so," I admitted.

"So, did you ever think about me?"

"Why are you asking me that?" I moaned.

"Because ever since I saw you jerk off, and spurt, all I could think about was what it would feel like if you did that inside me," she said. I was astonished. "I knew we shouldn't do it, but I couldn't stop thinking about it."

"So you came to my room naked, and waited in bed for me." I gazed into her eyes. "What did you think would happen?"

"I thought you'd kiss me, and finger me and I'd play with your cock. I thought I'd get to find out what it's like to be in bed with a boy, naked."

"I was right," I said. "Girls imagine things way differently than boys do."

"I checked my calendar," she said. "If what they teach us in school is true, then I don't think you got me pregnant."

"That's good," I said.

"I can go maybe five or six more days before it would be really dangerous," she said.

My mind went on 'pause' as I thought about why she'd say something like that. In a boy's imagination, that might mean, 'We can fuck like bunnies for five or six days before we have to be careful.' But it might mean something entirely different in a girl's imagination.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

She ground her loins against mine.

"It means our parents are gone, and I want to find out what it's like when it lasts longer than ten minutes," she said.

Have you heard of instant erections? I'd had some pop up pretty fast, but this one set a record.

"Really?" I asked.

"I'll never tease you about something like that," she said. "Let's use your bed, again, and then I'll wash the sheets before Mom and Dad get home."

This time I got to see her disrobe completely. She didn't exhibit any signs of reluctance or nervousness. I, on the other hand, was wracked with nervous worry. I wasn't sure I could go longer than ten minutes. My nervousness (and the joy of watching her get naked) caused me to lag behind and she came to help me. When she pulled my pants down that instant boner popped up into the air.

"I love it when it does that for me," she sighed.

I finished getting my feet out of my jeans and she pushed me onto the bed.

"I'm glad you took a shower this morning," she said.

"Mom said I stank," I told her.

"I used a wet washcloth to wipe me down everywhere," she said. "I was worried they could tell what had happened."

"We'll make a note that a shower afterwards is a good idea," I said.

She was still standing, looking at me. My eyes took in her breasts. Her nipples looked larger than before, or at least they stuck out farther. When my eyes dropped to the Vee of her legs, her pussy lips looked pale and tight. My penis had parted those lips. The shaft of my penis had rubbed those lips. Said penis ached a little and wanted me to touch it. Emma beat me to it.

She got on the bed on all fours, with her face above my cock. She reached for it and gripped it hard.

"I never wanted to do this before," she said. "Until after last night."

Then she lowered her face and opened her mouth and before I could adjust to any of it, she was gently sucking on the tip of my dick. I took in a deep breath, and it got stuck in my lungs. She lifted her face and licked her lips.

"That's not bad at all," she said. "It doesn't really taste like anything."

"It will if you keep doing that," I gasped.

"Maybe later," she said. "Last night, as soon as it upchucked, it got soft. I want it to stay hard right now."

She straddled my thighs and scooted forward until she could bend my cock down and tease it between those pale lips.

"I heard about doing it this way," she said. She scooted forward and the tip spread her tight lips apart like magic was involved. She scooted again, and the head popped in her. We both watched as she scooted again, and about half of it sank into her. It looked like somebody had cut half my dick off, except I could feel the missing part. She wasn't as hot, today. She was really warm and tight, but not scalding like before. Then she worked her calves, which had been beside my thighs, and lifted one knee to move forward. I almost came out of her, but she put her hands on my chest, moved the other knee, and then sank down on me. I slid into her effortlessly and she groaned.

"Fuck, I love that feeling," she cursed.

"You and me both," I huffed.

"Don't you cum," she admonished me. "Not yet. Who is the skankiest girl you know at school?"

Now that was an odd question to ask, and not just because of what we were doing.

"I don't know," I said.

"How about Janet Gilsdorf?" she asked. "She's pretty skanky."

I didn't normally classify any girls as "skanky" but I knew the concept.

"You mean a girl I don't ever want to do this with?" I said.

"Yes. Think about one of those girls."

"If I do, I'll get soft," I hypothesized.

"Okay, never mind. Just don't cum until I say you can."

"It's not a faucet," I groaned. "I can't just turn it off and on."

"Do you love me?" she asked.

"Of course I do," I said. "We wouldn't be doing this if I didn't."

I had an epiphany at that moment. What I'd said was true, but it also extended to future women. I knew, in that instant, that I'd never have casual sex with a woman, just to get my rocks off. I'd never do this with a woman I didn't love. It was too special, too intimate to be squandered on some casual acquaintance.

"Then don't cum until I find out what it's like to cum myself, with your beautiful, hard prick up in me. I managed to get off last night, but you were soft and I know it will feel different if you're not soft when I cum.”

"I'll try," I said.

She was still leaning on my chest with her hands.

"I have to be careful. You're in me really deep, and you're pushing things around in there."

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

She nodded.

"But in a good way," she said. "If I sit too hard in one position, though, the pain gets worse."

"Then don't sit that way," I said.

"Be quiet, now. I want to see how this works."

With that, she began to kind of wiggle around. She went from side to side, and then she scooted her hips toward me. I figured that wasn't going to work because my penis was like a tiny little fence post she was stuck on. It wasn't going anywhere, so her pussy couldn't go anywhere, either.

Turns out I was wrong.

Within a minute she had figured out that if she leaned forward and scooted forward and back, something massaged her clit. I could feel my cock moving inside her as she did this, but only an inch or so, maybe two at the most. Still, it was kind of like the night before, when I pulled out a couple of inches and slammed back in. There was no slamming going on here, though.

Actually, the physical part of it wasn't too bad, concerning not cumming. What made it hard for me to keep from shooting were the noises she was making. She kept up a running commentary on how good it felt, and how me being really deep in her was good after all, and how that pain was fading, or feeling better. She talked about how much she loved this, and about how she planned to find a way to do this often. Then she lowered her lips to mine and said, "But only with you."

"Stop," I said. "That makes me want to cum."

"Not yet," she said. "Play with my boobs."

I wondered why I hadn't already played with them. I mean they were right there, in easy arm's reach. I extended my hands and they covered both breasts. She actually let me take the weight of her upper body on my hands, and I worried that this must be hurting her soft tits. Pretty soon she took her weight on her arms again and I started playing with her nipples.

"Oh fuck yes," she gasped, as I pulled at both nipples, stretching them until her breasts were cone-shaped.

I squeezed harder, sure that this must hurt, but her eyes rolled up in her head and her hips started going as fast as my hand does when I jerk off.

"Ohhh ... fuck ... yesss," she whined.

Her pussy clamped down on me and, suddenly, I wasn't moving inside her at all. Her hips were still moving, but now my cock couldn't slide in her. It felt like she was trying to de-cock me by tearing it out at the roots.

I was just about to complain when her pussy released me and then pulsed, or rippled. It felt alive, and it was delightful, especially after my earlier worry that I was going to be injured.

"You can cum, now," she panted.

I started to remind her it wasn't a faucet, but decided on saying something else.

"I'm still okay. Do you want to keep going?"

"I'd love to keep going," she said, and her hips started moving again.

Five minutes later, I pulled and squeezed her nipples again, and she went off. This time she was loud, and I was really glad nobody else was in the house, because they'd have come running.

Somehow I knew I could cum if I was on top of her, so after she calmed down from her second cum, I rolled her off of me. My cock felt icy cold in the room temperature air and she complained. I got over her and leaned down to suck at her nipples. They'd been just slightly too far away for me to be able to do that while she was riding me. She was too short.

"Mmmmm, that's delicious," she said. "But I want you back in me."

"Patience, patience," I said. "You said you wanted this to last."

"What I want is to feel you squirt in me," she complained.

I didn't ask her why, then. Later she said that it just didn't feel complete until I left part of me inside her. We're adults, now, but to this day, she wants bareback sex more than anything else, even when it's dangerous.

I let her pull me to her opening, and sank back into her, pushing hard. She spread her legs as wide as she could, and groaned, "I love you."

Moving in her felt good, but going deep and just pushing felt good, too. In the end, I did a combination of that.

I was wondering if my cock had gone numb when she had another orgasm and started whimpering about how good it felt.

Turns out it is a faucet, and she knows where the tap is.

Without warning I gushed. I barely got it deep before it gushed.

"Yes, that!" she yipped. "I love that!"

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