“Damn it, now look what you’ve done!“ Zoe squealed with laughter as the feathers floated gracefully around us like in one of those spherical glass souvenirs that you shake and then it snows glitter flakes inside. Only, we weren’t in a glass sphere; we were in Zoe’s bedroom having a pillow fight. Mum had just bought each of us new king-size feather pillows and we’d found nothing better to do than to use them as assault weapons, taking turns at whacking each other as hard as we could. They were much better than the old pillows; softer, larger, and billowing with downy feathers. That is, one of them was still billowing. I stood there holding an empty pillow case with a shredded seam, my mouth wide open.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed.
Zoe, my sister, was almost two years younger than me. She had just turned seventeen, but was already a woman. Despite her playfulness, she was very serious when she wanted to be. In less than a year she would be headed off to college to study architecture, having already won several related awards during her high-school years. I, on the other hand, didn’t yet know what I wanted to make of my life so I had taken a year off, much to my parents dismay. At least they had one high-achieving offspring.
Another great thing about Zoe was that she was stunningly beautiful, and felt quite at ease wearing nothing but her bra and panties while we played our silly games, such as the pillow fight in which we had just been engaged. She was 5ft7 with shoulder-length light-brown hair, hazel eyes and a pretty little mouth. Her body was very feminine, with beautifully rounded hips and long, slender legs. Her stomach was as flat as an ironing board from all the workouts she did during the week. If I could fault her body on anything, it was that she had rather small breasts, which I often teased her about; being more like bee stings than what I considered real breasts. She teased me back by saying that I probably had a really little dick, but I think it must have been plain obvious to her that it wasn’t the case, seeing as it bulged quite prominently from within my underpants, like the one’s I was wearing at that moment.
“Oh my god, what is Mum going to say?” Zoe gasped, clasping her hand over her mouth, trying to suppress her laughter.
I looked around at the mess created by the feather storm. It was inconceivable to me that all the content lying on the floor and that which was still floating about the room had all come out of one pillowcase. I wanted to laugh too, but I also knew that it was me who had started the fight, and that it was my pillow that had burst. If anyone was going to get into trouble, it would be me.
Then I had an idea. I suddenly tossed the empty pillowcase toward Zoe’s feet.
While she looked down in surprise, I swiped the full pillowcase out of her hands and tucked it under my arm, getting ready to run back to my room.
“I don’t know, Sis. I’m sure you’ll find a good excuse.” I grinned at her.
I shouldn’t have taken the time to gloat, and just bolted as fast as I could. Zoe was a quick-thinker and was already making a move toward the closed bedroom door. She pushed her back firmly against the door, her arms stretched out sideways and her legs apart. She reminded me of that da Vinci drawing of a man in a circle.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, “You’re not getting away with this one.”
Zoe was making a reference to the number of times we’d blamed each other for things that the other person had done, like that time a pile of mud appeared out of nowhere in the bottom of the bathtub, or that other time when there was an olive oil slick in the garage. We’d lost count of the number of occasions where Mum had scolded the wrong person, often killing ourselves laughing about it once the memory of the punishment had died down.
I tried grabbing Zoe’s arm to pull her away from the door. Her martial arts training kicked in and she raised her knee toward my groin. I turned sideways to avoid her and slipped my hand behind her back, getting ready to shove her into the middle of the room to make my escape. She hit me in the chest with her elbow and I recoiled.
“Ow, that hurt!” I said, holding my hand over my ribcage.
“It’s going to hurt more if you don’t help me clear this up.” Zoe responded firmly.
Good old Zoe. She was such a sport, offering to assist me in clearing away the feathery mess. She could have easily told me that it was entirely my fault and that I had to take care of the problem all on my own. Still, it was her room and therefore she had a vested interest in making sure that the job was done properly. My track record of keeping my own room tidy was rather poor.
She eased up a bit, letting her arms rest by her side and looked at me for acknowledgment that I was going to help her. I feigned sympathy and said “Ok, you got me,” but as soon as she turned to lock the door (she didn’t really trust me) I charged at her again, this time hoping to knock her out of the way long enough to slip out of the room. She stumbled and wobbled a bit when I shoulder-butted her, but not enough to fall over. Quickly regaining her balance, she turned toward me with both her fists clenched and double-punched me in the chest, one of the blows hitting the same spot as where she had caught me with her elbow.
“You never learn, do you?” she laughed, watching me sitting there in the armchair, holding my chest like I’d just done ten rounds with a professional boxer.
“Did you have to do that?” I gasped, trying to catch my breath. There were times I wished I had done martial arts too, instead of football.
“Aw, diddums,” she joked, “Did poor little Joey get hurt?”
“Fuck off!” I muttered under my breath, still reeling from the pain.
“Stay here while I get a bin bag,” Zoe ordered, “and don’t try anything funny or I’ll break your arm next time.”
She winked at me knowing that she had me cornered, and disappeared to get the bag.
A couple of minutes later Zoe reappeared with a black plastic bag, which we quickly started filling. At first we gathered little piles of feathers between both hands and shoved them inside the bag, but after a while there were no more piles, so we had to start hand-picking feathers from wherever they had eventually landed. I wanted to use the vacuum cleaner, but Zoe thought that it would sound suspicious for her to be vacuuming her room at 11PM.
“If Mum comes upstairs and sees all this, we’ll both be dead.” She said very wisely.
We crawled around on all-fours picking up individual feathers, or rather Zoe picked up most of the feathers while I watched, mesmerized by her white cotton panty-clad butt sticking up in the air, her back arched as she bent down to look under the bed and under her dresser, making sure there were no stray pieces.
It wasn’t the first time I’d had sexual thoughts about her. In fact, there had been many times before but I had swept them out of my mind, considering that she was my sister. The most I had ever done was to peek at her through the bathroom keyhole, and even then it was more out of curiosity than anything else; although admittedly I got a hard-on when I saw her naked breasts and her sweet little peach. I’d felt guilty later that night after tugging at my shaft over thoughts of being in the bathtub with her, ‘helping’ her by lathering her down with a soapy wet flannel.
“Are you doing anything at all?” she said, still on all-fours with her butt facing me as she twisted her head around to see what I was up to.
“Yeah, of course.” I replied, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t moved an inch for the last several minutes.
Aside from not having moved, Zoe had the bin bag next to her. Judging from the few feathers I had in my hand and the fact that I hadn’t recently used the bag, it was plain obvious that I wasn’t really working.
“It doesn’t look like it.” Zoe declared, “Hurry up, will you?”
“Yes, Sis.” I answered, snapping out of my daydream.
“And stop looking at my butt!” she laughed.
“I’m not looking at your butt,” I replied, “You’re my sister for goodness sakes!”
“Right,” she answered sarcastically, “Like that ever stopped a guy from taking a peek.”
My cock started swelling in my pants hearing my little sister speaking like that. She didn’t often make sexual remarks, and yet the way she said it legitimized my ogling, as though she were expecting me to behave that way. Still, I didn’t want to go there, mainly out of fear. I started plucking the feathers from the carpet at double speed to make sure I was doing my part of the work.
“I’ve got a really cute butt,” Zoe continued enthusiastically, “Don’t you think?”
I wasn’t sure quite what to make of her question. Was she really asking her brother to validate the cuteness of her backside?
“It’s the ugliest butt I’ve ever seen.” I replied dryly.
“Ha ha, well, I – think – it - is - cute,” she said singing each word, “And - so – do – all - the – guys!”
She wiggled her butt teasingly in my direction and then poked her tongue out at me, raising her eyebrows.
Fuck! She was turning me on, but I was damned if I’d get caught in her little game. Zoe and I had a history of trapping each other into doing stupid things, and I figured that this was probably another set up. If I did or said anything to suggest that I was sexually attracted to her, she would go around forever more reminding me of the time when I had come onto her and what a horribly sick, twisted, perverted big brother I was. Mind-fucking each other was fair play but in this instance, Zoe was pushing toward dangerous territory.
“Good, I’m happy for all the guys.
” I said, hoping that my comment would be sufficient to close the conversation.
Apparently my tactic worked because she didn't say anything further, although I couldn’t help wondering if I’d maybe missed an opening. “What if she really wanted us to get intimate?” I thought, “Maybe she fancies me like I fancy her.” The thought struck me that we had always been very close, and that we had often been in situations where ‘something more’ could have happened. Nothing had ever happened, but perhaps that was because we were repressing our desires for each other. I knew that for my part the thoughts were at the back of my mind, ready to spring forward if the right occasion arose.
Finally we had managed to clear up the last of the feathers, making one last inspection round. Zoe stood there holding the bag which she had twisted at the top, ready to tie a knot in it. She said thanks to me for having helped her clean up her room.
“But, you know what Joey, you’re still going to have to explain to Mum what happened to your
pillow. Did you ever think about that?”
She held out the feather-filled plastic bag mockingly, and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was already planning something to make a fool out of me. ---
I swear that even with the best of intentions, I cannot fully describe my amazement at what happened next. One minute we were busy picking up the few remaining feathers from our earlier pillow fight, having spent the good part of an hour crawling around on our knees, painstakingly making sure that there were no visible traces of the accident, and the next minute we were lying naked next to each other on Zoe’s bed, feathers scattered all around the room.
Zoe says that I burst the bin bag when I lunged at her, causing the feathers to explode everywhere. I maintain that I merely knocked the bag out of her hands and that it was she who had propelled its entire contents into the air while fumbling to catch it. Whatever the case, only seconds after we had finished cleaning up we were squarely back to our usual antics, and we were now standing inside the snow globe once again.
We looked at each other in utter consternation through the shower of feathers falling about our heads.
“Great!” Zoe said sarcastically.
“It wasn’t me!” I replied defensively.
“Who was it then?” she continued, “Father Christmas?”
“Yes, it was Father Christmas.” I said to her, grinning, “You’re a bit early this year.”
There was a brief moment of suspended silence during which the sheer comedy of the situation sank in, followed by nervous laughter, and the next thing I knew we were kissing passionately for several minutes. Again, Zoe says that I leaned in to kiss her first whereas I say she fell into my arms. She simply doesn’t want to admit that it was her who started it, as usual.
“Wow, that was crazy!” Zoe said after the kiss, looking up at me with dreamy eyes.
“Weird and wonderful!” I replied, completely stunned.
Zoe locked her bedroom door “just in case,” although it would have already been difficult enough to explain to Mum why we were in Zoe’s room together with the door locked under any circumstances.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked her as she walked back toward me, smiling.
“More than ever,” she replied, throwing her arms around my waist, “I’m going to college soon and I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too, Sis.” I said, reaching behind her back to unbutton her bra.
Contrary to my joking about her bee stings, Zoe had beautiful little breasts, somewhere between an A and a B-cup. Their shape was accentuated by tan lines, the soft milky-white skin emblazoned with deliciously pink puffy nipples.
We sat down on the bed facing each other. I pulled her toward me, kissing each breast in turn and then focusing on one, sucking and licking it until it the nipple became stiff from excitement. While I did this, Zoe reached forward and felt my cock throbbing through my underpants, grasping the stiffness of my shaft between her fingers.
“That’s not a little dick!” She exclaimed.
“Not when you touch it like that!” I said.
I leaned her back on the bed and she shifted over, waiting for me to lie next to her. I slid alongside her and wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close to kiss her again. We lay there gazing at each other as though we had never met before, and indeed we had never been that physically close. I studied her eyes, amazed at the intensity of their color. Her skin was beautifully soft and smooth and her lips were like delicate rosebuds. As we lay there hugging each other, me rubbing her back, she slipped her hand inside my underpants and grabbed my rod.
“I want this one,” she said, looking me in the eye, “Take your underpants off.”
I quickly pulled down my underpants while Zoe sat up, ready to take action. She flicked her hair to one side, winked at me and said “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
“I can’t believe it either.” I gasped as she closed her lips around my shaft and pushed her face down to swallow my cock whole.
I had no idea if she was experienced at this type of thing because we’d never really discussed our sex lives, but I suspected she had practiced sucking cock at least as much as she had learned about architecture, if not more. The way she gobbled me up and licked at the head was about to make be blow my load within seconds. She looked at me with playful eyes to see my reaction.
“Geez, Sis. Slow down a bit!” I said, “Otherwise I’m going to cum right into your mouth.”
Zoe stopped sucking me off for a moment and pulled down her panties. I noticed that she was shaved as she straddled across me, taking my cock and teasing it by rubbing the head backwards and forwards over her wet pussy.
“Hello, have we met?” she teased with a cartoon character voice, pretending that it was her pussy talking to my erect member.
“Please do come inside.” She continued, “Oops, not right away!”
She moved herself forward on her knees until she was straddled across my chest, her cute pink pussy glistening before my eyes.
“I’d like you to meet someone else first.” She said.
I pushed my arms between her legs and helped her move forward until her pussy lips were directly over my face. She placed her hands on the wall in front of her and teased her juicy mound on my lips while I flicked her labia and clitoris with my tongue. Her pussy tasted delicious and the feel of her soft flesh against my face was wonderful. Her scent was just as I had imagined it to be when I had dreamt about bathing with her.
I lapped away at her, darting my tongue inside her pink patch and swallowing her juices, while she moved her buttocks slowly and rhythmically to maximize the friction on her clitty. After a couple of minutes her whole body jerked a couple of times during which she let her full weight down on me for a moment. I felt a warm stream of liquid pouring into my mouth while she tried to stifle a scream. I looked up at her and saw that she was biting her arm.
“Holy fuck!” she giggled, looking down at me, “I hope Mum didn’t hear that!”
With that, she turned herself around, spreading her butt toward me, and bent over to suck my cock while I licked her from behind. I held her around the waist while we teased each other. I could tell that she was being competitive once again, trying to outdo me in the titillation department. Naturally, she won, of course.
“Zoe, stop!” I called out, “I want to come inside you.”
She turned around and sat astride me, pushing herself down onto my stiff pole. It was hard for me to believe that my sister Zoe was so at ease with all this. I wondered if she’d perhaps wanted to do this earlier. In any case, I felt happy that we were together there now, enjoying the thrill of being closer than ever.
Zoe bounced up and down, riding my shaft while leaning backwards, her hands by her sides to support her. I observed her smooth and lithe young body, proud that she was so perfect. From that angle, her smallish breasts pointed upwards like miniature mountain peaks. They were cute and oh so terribly exciting.
The tightness of Zoe’s pussy gliding up and down over my shaft, combined with the sight of her arched body, set me off. She felt me stiffening up and leaned forward, her hair falling in front of her face.
“Yummy, give it to me Joe!” she said, smiling at me and then lay forward to embrace me.
I held her tightly while my seed spurted deep inside her in several long bursts and my balls were completely drained.
We lay there for ages holding each other and continuing to touch each other, as though we needed to make up for lost time. I buried my head in her neck and inhaled her perfume, and then kissed her on the lips, wanting to start again, but knowing that we had already taken a great risk. Zoe was completely relaxed, splayed out on the bed like a contented pussycat.
I looked around the room at the massive scattering of feathers.
“What the fuck are we going to do, Zoe?” I asked.
“I don't know. We’ll think of a good excuse tomorrow,” She replied, “I need some rest now.”
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