For those of you looking for a quickie with 10” cocks and wet, willing women this one’s not for you. This was based on true incidents which I tried to portray without embellishment. I have changed the names for the obvious reasons and it may make more sense if you were to read Satin Butterfly but this stands on its own.
In the six years I had been away at University, my sister Katarina had gradually withdrawn from me and once she had a steady boyfriend, she stopped calling altogether. Though I missed her a great deal I knew that this was inevitable and that I had to get on with my life. I was dating a lot and went through a phase where I searched for women who were diametrically opposite to her hoping that I would be able to disassociate myself and move on to a normal life. I was wrong but for reasons I was not aware of then.
Our house in South East Asia was a large, sprawling British Bungalow with a beautiful garden shaded by large Acacia trees. My brothers and I had our own rooms with the girls, Katarina and Klarita (Kat and Rita for short), sharing a large bedroom. Their bedroom was adjacent to mine with a connecting foyer which led to a common bathroom. Growing up, there were many nights when I could hear them talking and giggling long after everyone else had gone to sleep. I often wondered if Kat had confided in Rita about our sexual escapades. Like most siblings, more often than not the bickering would pit the boys against the girls and since they were outnumbered, they banded together often at the risk of physical retribution. Kat had been very protective of Rita, who was the baby of the family, and they had always been close but as I later learned, she had been tightlipped about our incestuous liaison. Rita had been a cute, chubby little kid who would scramble onto my bed, cuddle up to me and have me tell her horror stories. I can remember her following my brothers and me around, wanting to get into the mischievous madness we concocted. As kids, Katarina had taken part in some of our crazy escapades but she was by nature reserved and quiet. Rita was the wild one … born ready for trouble. And though I could see her blossoming in the many photographs we’d exchange, I was amazed when she ran into my arms on the day I returned home. I had decided to make this a surprise and had succeeded beyond all expectations. I was sipping a cup of tea and indulging my mother’s fussing when she got back from school. I stood up in disbelief and for a moment we just looked at each other, then she let out a squeal and throwing down her bag, she came running at me full tilt, hurling herself unabatedly into my arms. I was sure we were going to fall but I steadied myself and hugged her tightly, swinging her around in a small circle. Her exuberance had remained unfettered; it was the quintessential Rita. “Milo … when did you get home?” she whispered breathlessly as she squeezed me tightly “why didn’t you tell us?” “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, chubs!” I replied affectionately. I was the only one who could call her that – she had been a pugnacious little child who wasn’t adverse to confrontation. She was six years younger than me and I smiled thinking about all the times she had complained about being a girl. Now here she was in her school uniform, filling it out like a wet dream. “I knew you were coming home … I had this feeling; ask Mom, go on ask her … I told her so just the other day …” she said excitedly, talking incessantly most of which I missed. “Okay, quiet for a second, let me look at you …” I said and held her at arm’s length giving her the quick once-over. “Wow, you’re all grown up … you’re beautiful … I’m going to have to call you Lovely Rita from now on.” She beamed at the compliment. Her hair, which had been dirty blond when she was young, was now a dark chestnut mane, the thick tresses strewn wildly about her face. Her small nose, large dark eyes and pouty mouth were much like mine … except she was pale like our mother while I was the olive-skinned progeny of some distant forefather. “So, who’s the lucky guy?” I continued. “What guy? Mom and Dad won’t let me date … can you believe this? I am almost seventeen! If they have their way, I’ll be the only ninety year old virgin in this town!” she said and then prattled on “Milo … I can’t believe you’re here … you look great! Your hair is so long … but it’s cool, really … I think you should keep like this!” My Mom, who had been watching us with parental bemusement, cut in: “We don’t let you date because you are too young and we don’t want you to end up like Maggie; pregnant at sixteen, putting the whole family in shame.” Maggie was a cousin of ours who lived in Europe, back in the old country. It was the family scandal that had been the topic of conversation for months. Rita made a face and hugged me again and when I let her go, she turned and ran up the stairs. She stopped at the landing looking back at me and caught me staring at the sensual curve of her callipygian ass and gave me a big, radiant smile. “Let’s go out for dinner, can we? Please, Ma …? I’m going to get changed! Milo, you have to tell me everything … absolutely everything!” and without waiting for an answer she headed off towards her bedroom taking the stairs in long, bounding strides; her skirt swirling about her legs offering fleeting flashes of skin and white knickers. My mother shook her head, looked at me and said, “She’s impossible …!” I looked away and tried to think of something else as the snapshot of her thighs ran through my mind. She was beautiful and I felt myself getting aroused. I hadn’t been home but a few hours and here I was having incestuous thoughts about my baby sister. Kat and my two younger brothers were away at college so it was just my parents, Rita and me at home and once the initial excitement of my return died down life settled into a mundane routine. Dad would leave for work and he’d drop Rita off at school. Mom would be busy in the kitchen managing the help with the household chores and after my morning run, I would lounge around watching the news, talking to friends, reading and being spoiled silly. It was a good life and I was really enjoying the break. In the evenings, after dinner, we would sit in the den, make small talk and watch the evening news then my parents would retire for the night. Rita would finish her homework and we’d stay up catching up with all the time we had missed being together. We were both into sports and argued endlessly about whose favorite team was better and who would win the world cup etc. it was fun but I began to sense an undercurrent of sexuality creeping in – I wasn’t sure if this was just wishful thinking on my part or if there was something more to this. Our conversations would eventually drift to the topics of sex, the women I had dated and of course, life in America … she had been so sheltered that she couldn’t wait to visit the US and be “free” is how she put it! This went on for a few months and though I missed Kat, Rita was beginning to intrigue me sexually. ****** Since Rita and I both liked old movies, we began going on what she termed as “brother-sister” dates. This frequently meant a movie and dinner and became a regular weekend event. She’d scour the papers to find something she liked and I’d pick a place where we could eat. My parents thought it was sweet that I was watching out for my kid sister and of course, Rita was thrilled. We would run into her friends or acquaintances her age from other schools and she would lean over and whisper that they were all jealous of her for having an older guy like me on a date. It seemed juvenile but I was only too eager to oblige her in the game and would hold her close to me in front of them just to watch their expressions. In the theatre, she would hold on to my arm or take my hand in her lap while leaning against my shoulder. It seemed innocent enough at the beginning but I could sense subtle changes, mostly at home, where the incidences of our “accidental” contact were on the increase. To precipitate matters, she had taken to wearing skimpier outfits and wandering around without her housecoat – I’m sure that part of this was just a young woman coming to terms with her sexuality and seeking approval from a person she trusted. The ecdysiast in her was a discreet attempt to gage male reaction in a controlled environment - and who could be safer than an elder brother. However, my parents were firm believers in the old values of chivalry and feminine modesty and we were all required to display a sense of decorum. It was a good thing that the master bedroom was on the other side of the house and they rarely got a glimpse of her parading around showing off more than they would have tolerated. A few weeks later, while I was getting a snack from the kitchen, Rita came in dressed in nothing but a tight tank-top and her panties. “What are you making?” she asked, hugging me from the back and poking her head around my arm to see what I was doing. I could feel her breasts pressing against me and the gentle warmth of her spreading along my back. “Mmmmm … nice …” she said though I wasn’t quite sure what she was referring to. “A sandwich … you want me to make you one?” I asked, enjoying the feel of her and hoping that she wouldn’t notice the effect she was having on me as my trousers tented outwards. She remained with her head resting against my back, her arms around my stomach, holding me tightly for a minute, and then let me go. “No … I want something sweet.” She said and opened the fridge, bending over to rummage for treats. She had filled out rather nicely – full, firm breasts with a narrow waist which flared at the hips and long, shapely legs. The short tank top exposed her flat stomach which coalesced into the gentle swell of her lower belly tapering down into her panties and the V of her crotch. She was the captain of her Volleyball team and it showed in the tautness of her thighs and the round, perfectly shaped ass. Gone was the plump, little girl and in her place was this alluring beauty. I tried looking away but I couldn’t help but stare – she wasn’t wearing a bra and I could see the pointed outline of her nipples. Just then my mother walked in. She took one look at Rita and hissed: “You better cover yourself, young lady, there are men in the house.” She said walking up to her. “What man, Mom? It’s just Milo!” Rita replied with an impish grin. “Rita, that’s not funny. Now go and get dressed or stay in your room … you know the rules!” “Oh Mother, you’re such a prude!” she gave her a hug, wiggled her cute butt and ran off. My Mom looked at me sternly and said: “You shouldn’t look at her like that … you are encouraging her. She is a child and she adores you.” “Give me a break, Ma, she was half naked … and she’s seventeen, not really a kid. You were married to Dad at her age!” I replied defensively. “That is not the same … times were different.” She looked at me and her eyes softened. I was her favorite. “Some things are not healthy Milo, and you are old enough to know that.” Then looking at my half-made sandwich, she said, “go sit down, I’ll make that for you.” Though my Mom didn’t say anything further I had the nagging feeling that she knew more than she was letting on. I have often wondered whether incest ran in families and was brought on by a genetic aberration which made us incapable of discernment and susceptible to the effulgence of sibling love. And though at times I was conflicted about my feelings, I was drawn to my sisters in ways that transcended my experiences with other women. The intense rush I felt when lying on top of my sister Kat, buried deep inside her, our writhing bodies locked together incestuously was unmatched by anything else that I had indulged in. Was this an extension of the innocent juvenile exploration that had gone too far? I wasn’t sure but I knew that Rita was beginning to excite me in very much the same way that Kat had. I went back to my room haunted by memories of Katarina and her gleaming, golden body thrashing under me; her slender fingers gently caressing my turgid phallus, moaning while she sucked the viscid juices out from me. I had now begun to include Rita in my fantasies creating an addled ménage à trios anchored in the realms of my past with Kat, embellished now by the murky infiltration of this vivacious debutante, our bodies shameless in their dishabille, lying entwined like a sensual tableau vivant! ****** Like most relationships ours had several sides to it and for the obvious reasons the physical aspect had begun to morph in ways that were less overt. What had started as playful teasing with me spanking her bottom when she walked by soon escalated to bouts of grappling and tickling! Since I was particularly ticklish, she had taken to ambushing me and in the resulting melee our bodies would inadvertently touch, rubbing and grinding and in general making contact with one another. There were many times when she had me rolling on the floor begging her to stop while she sat on top of me, smiling gleefully at the helplessness of my situation. Though it was all done under the guise of innocent roughhousing, there was no hiding the obvious undercurrent of sexuality that accompanied these incidents. She seemed to enjoy this as much as I did and on more than one occasion I noticed the dampness of her panties as she sat over me. The other aspect of our relationship which had changed was the familiarity she had begun displaying. I would often I find her in front of the mirror in various stages of undress getting ready for school or for bed. On this occasion, her robe was partially open and the short camisole she was wearing barely covered her bikini panties showing off her long, shapely legs. She exuded a sensuality that few girls possess. Kat was beautiful but she wasn’t like Rita … there was a “rawness” to Rita’s aura which attracted men on a very sexual level. I know because I was one of them. “I’ve got to pee …” I said feeling myself getting hard, aroused by just the glimpse of her body. “Go ahead … don’t mind me!” she replied smiling and continued to brush her hair. The bathroom was large and had a partition separating the shower from the toilet so it offered a certain amount of privacy but this sort of familiarity was a first. I hesitated before answering. “I don’t mind if you don’t …” and walked quickly towards the toilet hoping she hadn’t noticed the effect she was having on me. I came back to wash my hands and playfully shoved her aside since there wasn’t quite enough room for two people at the sink. She didn’t respond with her normal feisty reaction but instead just stepped back. When I had finished she pushed her face towards the mirror and said: “I hate my freckles …” “You can hardly see them … and stop this; you are beautiful and most girls would kill to look like you!” “You think I’m beautiful …” she hesitated, “Like Kat?” she asked, unsure. “More …” I said before I could stop myself, “well, you’re both different but I think you are more beautiful!” I told her truthfully. She blushed shyly and then continued. “I wish I was darker … like you! I love your color, Milo … I wonder who you got that from?” she asked, looking at me in the mirror. “The Postman … you’ve got to ask Mom!” I joked, “Grandpa was dark – Mom says I look like him!” I was standing behind her and as the light played on her face I realized how young and fragile she was. I couldn’t resist the protective urge and hugged her, pulling her to me. There was no resistance as she nestled backwards laying her head against the curve of my neck and closing her eyes. I wasn’t sure if she could feel the turgid hardness pressing against her through all our clothing but I brushed her hair aside and gently kissed the long arc of her neck. She shivered and let out a sigh. “Mmmmm … I wish …” and then stopped mid-sentence. I looked at her in the mirror and asked: “You wish … what?” “Nothing …” she replied, turning in my arms so she was facing me. “Nothing … it’s that time of the month and I’m not feeling that great …” suddenly there were tears in her eyes and I wondered whether I had done something to upset her or if this was just a reaction to the hormones raging in her body. There are moments you think back on and wish you had acted differently. She looked radiant and vulnerable, her face tilted upwards, waiting expectantly for me to take the lead. I wanted to kiss her so badly but instead I ran my fingers along her jaw line and gave her a peck on her forehead. “You had better get to sleep, chubs … it’s getting late.” My voice was strained; my erection pressing lewdly into her. There was no denying my feelings and I could have sworn that I felt her pushing back against me. She hesitated, a look of dejection on her face, then hugged me tightly and went quickly to her room. A few days later, while I was shaving she walked in looking for her watch. She was wearing her school uniform: blue blazer, white shirt, blue tie with the ochre school emblem, pleated gray skirt, long white socks and black slip-ons. The top buttons of her shirt were undone and the tie was strategically pulled down revealing the shallow cleft of her breasts. If there ever was a schoolgirl fantasy, she was it! “You didn’t see my watch, did you?” she asked. “Nope … you can take mine if you want.” I replied and continued shaving. She stood there for a while silently watching me and when I looked questioningly at her in the mirror she smiled and said: “That looks so cool … how come you don't use an electric shaver like Dad?” “I don’t know … never liked it and I get a closer shave this way.” I replied. “The game is on this evening … don’t forget … it’s at 6 in the old Gym!” she reminded. “I won’t. We’ll be there.” I assured her. She was quiet again, watching me with bright, intense eyes and a half-smile on her face. “You’re in great shape, Milo …” she said softly and then added, “for an old guy!” “Watch it, girl, or I’m going to have to spank you for that …” I was beginning to react to her again and my mind was clouding with desire. “You’ll have to catch me first, brother dear …” she laughed. I felt a strong urge to take this further but I knew she would have to leave for school soon so instead I bent over and washed my face then turning around I splashed her with a spray of droplets. She scooted aside giggling and without warning she grabbed the towel and jerked it. I don’t think she had meant to pull it quite that hard but it slide away from my waist and came off in her hand. I heard the soft intake of her breath and caught her gaping at my semi-rigid cock. In that fleeting second as I stood naked in front of my sister, I felt a libidinous thrill shoot through me and I began to harden. For her part, she seemed hypnotized; unable to take her eyes off the tumescent rod as it throbbed and jerked with brazen insolence. She looked briefly at me, her eyes brilliant with excitement and then I saw her tongue flick out, spontaneously wetting her lips as she refocused her gaze at the hard, pulsing phallus. Her breathing had quickened and her face was flushed with voyeuristic excitement. I noticed her squeezing her thighs together in an involuntary reflex, her hips undulating ever so slightly to a rhythm emanating from somewhere deep within her feminine core. Time seemed to stall and just then, shattering the peculiar reverie, was our father’s call: “Rita …? I’m going to be late! Come on … now!” his deep voice reverberating down the hallway. She was startled and blushing crimson, she threw the towel at me. “I’d better go …” she said breathlessly and ran out of the bathroom leaving me alone, with the lingering scent of her perfume and the frustration of an over stimulated libido. ****** I spent the day unable to do anything but think of her. I tried distracting myself by meeting friends for lunch but left midway through it making an excuse to get away. I seemed to be under some sort of prurient spell and the image of her standing there staring at me kept repeating itself over and over in my mind. I wondered what she was thinking or feeling and whether we could be “normal” with each other again. What I felt for her was so intensely physical that thoughts of her older sister had suddenly faded into the distant recesses of my mind. We arrived at the school gym a little before the game was scheduled to start. I was feeling ambivalent about seeing her again unsure of how she would react. My parents wanted to get a seat closer to the front so we walked down scanning the players for Rita and saw her warming up with her teammates. Her back was to us but you couldn’t miss her … her light skin looked even paler in contrast to the mocha-brown of the local girls with her shining, velvety mane flying wildly as she chased after the ball. One of her friends must have said something because they all looked up and giggled. We made our way towards the court and managed to get seats pretty close to the player’s bench. I was seeing many of her friends after a long time and tried placing names with faces but without much luck. Like Rita, they had all changed a great deal. The girls from their cross town rivals, St. Anne’s, were much taller and I had this sinking feeling when I saw the hitters kill the ball during the pregame practice. Rita was small for a Volleyball player, being only about 5’7” but she was a great retriever, diving like a gymnast to scoop up spikes that would certainly have been winners. As the game began slipping away, you could see her trying to rally her teammates in the huddle. It was hard to miss her, the tenacious fighter; her eyes blazing, fists pumping and screaming encouragement at every side-out. However, as the match progressed it was evident that the opposition was too good and though they gave it their best, the home team lost the match. After the perfunctory handshakes she looked over at me and though she smiled I could see the disappointment etched on her face. Some of her friends had tears in their eyes and my parents had joined the others to console them. I was on the fringes of the crowd talking to Sue, one of Rita’s friends, when she came over and stood next to me. She had changed her tee shirt and slipped into a comfortable pair of sweats. I placed an arm around her shoulders and said: “You were great, sis … I’m proud of you!” She smirked and forced a smile, “What a bummer … we practiced so hard!” she said, holding onto me by my waist. “I know” Sue replied “now it’s over… we’ll have to wait until next year!” “Hey, don’t sweat it, you gave it a good shot… time flies and there’ll be other games!” I said, commiserating with them. I felt a sense of relief because Rita was acting normal without a hint of what had transpired between us earlier. “We’re going out for Pizza … why don’t you come with us, Milo?” Sue asked. “Thanks but no thanks … you girls go on and have a good time.” I said, “I’ll take Dad and Mom for dinner and keep them distracted so you can stay out late.” “Oh, come on Milo, it will be fun … tell him, Rita!” Sue insisted. I could sense that Sue liked me and though she was pretty enough, I was deeply infatuated with my sister. Rita grabbed my arm, dragging me towards the others and said, “Come on, Milo, we need some major cheering up … you’re coming with me! Dad and Mom can use the time away from you … give them some space, dude, you’re crowding them! And, if you are with us, we can stay out late!” they both giggled conspiratorially at her idea. ****** Dinner at the pizza parlor was what I should have expected – it was overrun by the chattering of giddy High School girls. My sister sat next to me with her thigh pressed against mine and though she laughed and prattled on, I could sense that she was distracted. As the evening wore on she took my hand in hers, our fingers interlacing under the covert shroud of the tablecloth. I felt her playing with my hand running sensual patters over my palm while it rested pressed against her lap. It might have been the aroused state I was in but the way she caressed me was about the most erotic experience I have had without actually having sex. I sat there sipping my coke and glanced around the table wondering what her friends would think if they only knew what had transpired in the morning and how I felt about my sister. Several times during the evening I caught Sue looking at me, smiling shyly and was relieved when dinner was finally over. Like others, my parents had dropped us off at the restaurant but now on the way home, we were all cramped into the Coach’s old Volvo so we had to “double-up” and by choice, Rita ended up sitting on my lap. There were the usual giggles and banter as they teased her about exchanging places … the cacophony of their chatter combined with the music from the CD resonated within the car and the game was all but forgotten. There was a part of me that was removed from all this and was focused only on the parallel experience where I could feel my erection pressing into my sister’s ass, pulsing to some temporal beat, leaking profusely into my briefs. As the car maneuvered along the roadway unable to avoid the many potholes and bumps, I was the lucky beneficiary of the resulting frottage, her bottom bouncing and rubbing against my agitated prick. I had my arm around her, holding her to me my senses intoxicated by the scent of her, a potpourri of her perfume and shampoo mingled with the clean essence of her sweat. After one rather severe bump she was literally thrown off my lap and if I hadn’t been holding her, she would have surely fallen between the seat and the backrest. She settled back down, wiggling her bottom until my cock was nestled within the crack of her ass. Then as I throbbed salaciously against her, she began squeezing and relaxing the muscles of her rump sending thrills shooting through the nexus of my raging cock. I had to fight hard to sit still resisting the urge to grind myself into her. I glanced over at Sue, who was sitting next to us, but she seemed oblivious of what was going on. My breathing had begun to get heavier and I was pushing imperceptibly back, flexing my cock, timing my strokes to match hers when I felt her hand slipping down between us. Though I couldn’t see her I was sure she was touching herself. It was surreal… my sweet, little sister was riding my turgid penis while fingering herself and trying to get us off with her best friend sitting right next to us. I felt certain that Sue would figure out what was going on but before it got out of control and became obvious we pulled up to an apartment complex. Some of the girls including Sue got out and after the remainder settled back in, Sue leaned into the car and said, “Call me, Milo …” smiling suggestively before walking away. The ensuing banter revolved around Sue and me with the girls teasing Rita who was now sitting next to me remained uncharacteristically quiet. When the car pulled up in our driveway, my mother was waiting for us and soon, my father joined her out on the walkway leading to the entrance. The coach, Rita and my parents stood around exchanging pleasantries and discussing the season and the game when I left and headed for the bathroom. I had to take care of the slimy wetness in my trousers. And as I was walking away, I heard her whisper softly, “Thanks, Milo.” ****** I sat in the den watching the Telly but not really paying attention to the program. My parents had gone to bed and Rita was still up in her room. I had heard the shower run for an inordinately long time and was powerless to stop the sexual scenarios playing out in my mind. I was contemplating the evening and what my next move should be and wondered if she was asleep when she walked in and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t wearing her robe and her baggy tee shirt didn’t quite cover her panties. As she walked towards me I saw her glancing at the disjointed bulge in my pajamas. “Mom and Dad …” I started to say but she placed her finger on her lips and interrupted. “Ssshhhh … I checked; they are asleep, Milo …” her voice was calm and I was surprised by her self-assurance. She walked up to the couch and straddled my lap, her knees folding under her on either side of my thighs. Maybe it was a final attempt to assuage a reluctant conscience but I wanted to give her one more chance to back out. “You’re sure about this?” I asked, “Once we start, Klarita, it will change everything … forever.” I couldn’t recall the last time I had called her by her full name and it sounded odd as soon as I said it. She smiled at me and nodded, “Yes, Milonis … I’m sure, surer than I’ve ever been!” she used my full name playfully and sat there looking into my eyes aware of the hard flesh, throbbing against her crotch, “we’ve already started …” “We haven’t done anything yet …” I said unconvincingly. “It started a long time ago … I used to hear you and Kat … I was young and didn’t know what was going on. I thought you were hurting her … she was so noisy …” her voice trailed off and then she continued, “I would imagine you on top of her … inside her and pretend it was me instead of Kat! Do you think I’m sick?” I was taken aback by this blunt confession and just stared at her. “No, you’re not sick …you are innocent and beautiful … and if there is anyone to blame, it’s me.” I had this desultory flashback of the little girl who had always wanted to please me and who had trusted me implicitly. I was beset with conflicting thoughts and emotions. I wondered about my motives and where this would lead. The experience with Kat should have taught me something but here I was with my youngest sister about to take a path which would affect her life in ways we could never change. “I’m not so innocent, darling brother … do you know what I did in school?” she asked rhetorically and then continued, “I couldn’t stop thinking about this morning … about you” then lowering her voice even further, said softly “about your thing … your cock … there I’ve said it. I have wanted to see you like she saw you, Milo, for so long …” She was silent for a while and I wasn’t sure if I should say something but decided to just play it out. Then she continued: “At school today, I locked myself in the bathroom and did it thinking about us until I came! I had never done anything like this in school before … but I couldn’t stop thinking about it … about you … about us … I must be sick … I still can’t stop thinking about it …” The image of her masturbating in the cubicle of the bathroom, seated back on the toilet, her panties pulled down, fingering her vagina and biting down on her lip to prevent herself from moaning out loudly was almost too much to bear. My cock had distended to the point of hurting and I had to control the urge to take her right there when she continued: “I was jealous of Kat … I thought she was taking you away from me, Milo … do you still think of her?” she looked at me unsure of my response. “There is only one person I think of now …” I said honestly looking into her eyes and pushed back strands of her hair which clung damply to her forehead. She smiled, happy with the reassurance, “I love you, Milo… I’ve always loved you.” She shook her hair back and making herself comfortable, she placed her hands around my neck, her face only inches from my own. I leaned forward and kissed her softly on her lips and felt her mouth parting, her breath hot with the fragrance of passion but before I could savor the feel of her sensual lips, her tongue slid into my mouth, a slithering serpent searching insatiably, driven by the hungry concupiscence of puerile nymphet. I sucked on it gently and heard her moan and true to her impatient nature, the gentle kiss soon became fiercely passionate. Her mouth opened wide and our tongues wrestled wetly, sliding in and out of each other, exploring every detail, desperately sucking at the very essence of the other until suffocated we had to break apart, a reprieve ending the delirium. She had one hand running through my hair and the other on my shoulder. She was breathing heavily and in the dim light, I could see her breasts heaving with desire. She tasted so sweet and fresh that I needed to feel her against me and cupping her bottom I pulled her to me, pressing her crotch against mine. I snuck my hand under her tee shirt and massaged her breasts, rolling her nipples between thumb and forefinger and felt it harden. And through the paroxysmal morass of ardor, I heard her whimpering and felt her fingers, once again, sliding in between us – she was rubbing herself while the back of her hand brushed lewdly against my distended cock. At first her movements were slow and deliberate but as we continued to kiss, I could feel the increased urgency of her motions, her hips undulating as the nebulous cloud of pleasure spread through her. She was moaning into my mouth and as I tugged at her tee shirt she raised her arms in desperate acquiescence eager to be rid of every barrier between us. I could sense her nervousness as she revealed herself to me and then waited anxiously as I sat basking in her partial nakedness. It was a combination of youth and beauty and it was truly amazing. “God, you’re so beautiful …” I whispered. Her breasts were perfectly formed; teardrop shaped and jutting proudly with the arrogance of youth. Her freckles, like stardust scattered across a pale sky, spread outwards from her thorax disappearing into the rise of her bosom. I began suckling her like a baby toying with her nipples, nibbling them and biting down gently. I used every trick I had learned while pleasing Kat and the many women I had dated. I heard her groan and could feel her tremble as I kissed her throat and pulled her to me, squeezing her as hard as I could. Then she pushed me back, tugging at the drawstring of my trousers: “I need you now … I need to see you …” she panted, “sit back …” she had moved over to my side and was bending over me, her amazing hair cascading around her face like a thick, shimmering curtain. I helped her by raising my hips easing my pajamas down and setting my throbbing, distended member free. And as it slapped against my stomach, she reached over and wrapped her fingers timorously around the base and gently stroked upwards, caressing the sensitive coronal ridge. It jerked in response to her touch rewarding her with a clear, sticky stream of precum, trickling from the tip and onto her fingers. Her face was inches from my cock with a look of curiosity and lust and while she stroked downwards pulling the skin away from the plum shaped head, I saw her tongue snake out to lick the top of the engorged helmet, whisking away the sticky droplets into her mouth. “Mmmm …” she moaned running her tongue wetly up and down the length, prying the ridge with the tip of her tongue. Then without further hesitation, she drew me into her mouth, her long neck stretched like an angry swan and holding the base of my shaft she swirled her tongue around the bloated skull sucking me with a skill belying her youthful inexperience. I held her by the back of her head while thrusting into her face, fucking her mouth lost in the ecstasy of the moment. I could feel the tip of my cock bumping against the back of her throat and felt her struggle with the gag reflex. She used her fingers, holding the base of my shaft, to control the depth of my strokes and once we had established the boundaries of my incursion we moved together like dancers in a practiced concerto. Her hair had formed a dense, shimmering veil swirling about her face as her head bobbed above me allowing me glimpses of her lips stretching lewdly around the rampant head, her cheeks hollowing with the effort while she sucked like some insatiable vampire for all she was worth. The sounds of our moans seemed to ratchet loudly, a strident symphony of mating wolves, echoing discordantly to the backdrop of the Telly. I leaned over and reaching behind her back slid my hand into her panties running my fingers along the crack of her ass, amazed by the wetness of her. And as I searched for her opening I realized that she had her fingers buried deep inside her hole. She was moving them in and out while manipulating her clit with the inside of her palm. Her hips were bucking against her hand, undulating in synchronized rhythm to the tumescent flesh sliding in and out of her mouth. I could feel the fervor of her sucking increase and felt my climax building, the tremors beginning at the base shooting along the stem, racing through my cortex like some runaway Diesel until the lights in my brain exploded in a fantasia of brilliant colors. I groaned loudly and felt the head of my cock swell and stiffen against her tongue and then contract as it expelled the first stream of viscid ejaculate into my sister’s hungry mouth. I felt her swallow and just as her throat constricted, it pumped again and again and again pulsing with a life of its own, flooding her mouth with the sticky manifestation of her oral contrivance. She was swallowing as fast as she could but there was too much for her and it dribbled thickly from the sides of her mouth onto her chin. It was a sight I’ll take to my grave. She continued to suck me, slurping as I softened until finally I had to pull her off of me. I watched as she played with my softening stem, exploring curiously as the hardness dissipated. She kept licking the purple dome and looking up at me, her eyes hooded, her face glowing with the knowledge of her accomplishment. Then finally, she released me from the warmth of her mouth and crawling up, laid her head against my chest. She looked happy and satiated like a kitten and smiled to herself. We lay together safe within the sanctuary of our embrace with me nuzzling her hair and running my hand gently over her breasts. She held my cock tenderly, stroking her fingers up and down, never letting me go fully soft. I bent down to kiss the nape of her neck and heard her sigh softly and then felt her nibble gently on my ear, squeezing my shaft and whispering sweet nothings as I maneuvered her body so I was kneeling between her legs on the carpet. Her ass was perched on the edge of the large leather sofa with her legs spread enticingly as I kissed her stomach and worked my way down to her panties. I stroked her slit, up and down, gently caressing her node through the moist, silkiness of her undergarment while kissing the tender flesh on the inside of her thighs. I felt her shudder as she pulled my face into her crotch. ‘A favor for a favor’ played over and over in my brain as I began the assault on her sensual core. I peeled her panties down and finally she lay naked in front of me. For a brief moment she looked at me waiting anxiously, seeking reassurance, and then closed her eyes and leaned back against the sofa. I couldn’t recall any woman I had been with who was as erotically titillating as she was. Not even Kat. The outer lips of her venal flower were swollen and engorged signaling her arousal and her slit gleamed silver seeping with the tangy nectar of her passion. Her sparse, downy bush was reddish gold contrasting lightly with the creamy smoothness of her thighs. I flattened my tongue and licked upwards, tasting my sister for the first time… sweet ambrosia. She trembled then wantonly spread her thighs like the wings of a Satin Butterfly. ******
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<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/incest/satin-butterfly-ii.aspx">Satin Butterfly II</a>