It started out as another case of me-and-my-big-mouth. I
was down at my parents’ and had wandered into the living
room in time to catch the last snatch of a conversation.
My sister Ria was saying stuff about closing up her
cottage for the winter. Figuring that to be a pretty
tough sport and feeling full of false magnanimity, I
volunteered, “Well gosh, Ria, I’d certainly come out and
help, not that I could get time away from the kids or
afford the airfare.” I really would have been just as
satisfied with myself if I’d just thought about
offering. Unfortunately there was a roomful of family to
witness my words.
I hadn’t seen Ria in a couple of years and didn’t expect
to see her again for a couple more. That was the
standard schedule since we’d become adults. Ria and I
were not at all close. As children we had fought like
monsters all the time. Sometime in our early teens came
a cease-fire, both of us independently deciding it would
be less hassle to simple ignore the other. Now that we’d
both crossed the threshold into our thirties, things
between us were civil enough. Though neither of us felt
obliged to words if we wound up alone in the same room.
It was like some sort of conspiracy. Less than a month
later my wife announced that she and the kids were
driving for a week’s stay at her parents a state and a
half away. Instead of being torn between desire and
duty–can I stay or should I go?–I was directed towards
a third choice. She and them were off to her parents,
while mine had mailed me the plane tickets out to Ria’s.
Somehow I didn’t feel much in charge of my own destiny.
I boarded my airplane, found my seat and sat down. I
pulled the in-flight magazine out from the pouch on the
back of the seat ahead of me. It was not a far reach. I
thought to myself This is insane! My sister was a
virtual stranger. There was this cottage, out in the
country, up in the mountains, something like that out in
one of the western states.
I had no clear idea what she did with her life. I had
not even seen a photograph of this cottage. I didn’t
know if she owned or rented or just somehow inhabited
this cottage. There was something about a roommate going
abroad for some long stretch of time. My sole knowledge
of this person was her gender. Were they roommates or
friends or lovers? As for my sister’s sexuality, I could
state with some certainty that she was female. All the
sorts of details that make up a life, and so few did I
know. It was all information I didn’t care about. I
could see no reason in the world why I would be on my
way to help her out. Blood isn’t that thick.
The pleasure of my flight was mitigated by the
circumstances of having been booked on the cheapest
airline still up in the air. The only refreshment they
offered was water, and for that you had to go back and
suck it from the bathroom spigot. Carry-on luggage was
restricted to purses and briefcases because there were
no overhead bins, so my similarly sized duffel had to go
into the belly of the beast. I didn’t really need the
book I’d neglected to retrieve until I discovered that
all the magazines were actually thickish catalogues of
cheap goods.
My favorite was the catalogue catalogue, a huge lavishly
illustrated catalogue of all the catalogues you could
possibly want to order. I did a total tally. For only
almost $1000 I could have many hundreds of worthless
catalogues I didn’t want delivered to my doorstep. The
prospect was thrilling. The exercise got me past those
first ten minutes when the plane is suddenly rumbling
into the air, going up steep fast. My fear of flying is
restricted to these minutes, and their companion ones at
the other end of the flight, when, statistically, most
planes tend to crash and burn.
During the descent I silently waxed poetic about the
grand old days of air travel. When your plane landed, by
god you were where you were going. And you had to worry
about dying only twice. My modern flight sort of hopped
across the landscape. Each subsequent airport was
smaller than the one before. And at each we as well
traded down for the next smaller aircraft. It got to the
point that as we were once again nosing back down to
earth, all I could really imagine ahead was a sort of
lawnmower with wings.
Out the window all I could see us approaching was what
looked like a failed subdivision out in the middle of
nowhere. The sad lines of merrily named streets leading
to nothing, making tracings in the bulldozed mud sea
surrounding. The roads anchored to a small solitary
building, the model home/sales office. We landed there,
and it didn’t look much different from the ground. The
building was the tiniest terminal that was ever built.
Luckily it was the end of the line. I was where I wanted
to be, or rather, where I was supposed to be.
Amazingly, the flight arrived on time. Nothing else did.
I spent the hour Ria kept me waiting trying to locate my
duffel. She finally caught up with me at an out-of-the-
way counter where a gleaming young woman was filling out
a missing tracer for me. Well, she was noting the
information on the backside of a napkin with a snapped
pencil. “So just come back in ten days to check,” the
woman was telling me with a winning smile.
“I’ll be back in four,” I snapped, “That’s when I leave.
Preferably with the duffel.”
Ria came up and greeted me. She stopped ten feet away
and barked, “Where’s your bag?”
I turned back to Miss Perfect Career Choice and asked,
“How many cities does your fine airline serve anyway.”
“Thirty-eight,” she gave a cheery chirp.
I turned back to Ria. “Take your pick. Now I sort of
know why my bag is late. What’s your excuse?”
“I’m here now,” she shrugged. “You ready to go?”
The cottage, when we got there, wasn’t really much of a
cottage. It wasn’t a shack, but it wasn’t a cottage. It
was a house in the way a cave can be called a home. It
could be called a cabin, except cabins generally aren’t
clapboard with little trims around the rims. It didn’t
look at all new. Thank god, I thought, it wasn’t some
listing double-wide trailer dragged up the hills.
It was really rather nice inside. One big central room,
the living room, with vaulted ceiling and a wide stone
hearth. A hallway led off to a pleasant little bedroom
opposite a full bath, ending in the kitchen at back. I
retraced my steps and headed for the great room. In the
middle of the room, facing the fireplace, there was one
of those frame things that folds a futon up into a sofa.
I was on it in an instant.
Ria was on me before I could get comfortable. “What do
you think you’re doing? Come on! get up!! We got a ton
of work ahead of us.”
“Coffee,” I groaned. “First comes coffee.”
“Coffee?” she gave me a queer look. “I don’t drink
coffee.”
“Well I do. You could be nice, or just tell me where
everything is and I’ll make my own.”
“I said I don’t drink the stuff. The closest coffee
you’ll find is down in town.”
“Then get your butt down to town and get me some!” I
cried. “I’m not moving ’til I’ve had my fix. Get me a
pound, ground, and something to brew it in.”
Ria took my look of exasperation and multiplied it. She
went off in a huff, but she did go off. Without another
word she was out the door and in her truck. I guessed it
to be at least a twenty minute trip each way, nestling
my head languidly down into a pillow.
In fact I got to snooze for well over an hour. But then
my nap ended with that terribly disorienting sort of
jerking way. It was like my body shivering awake at the
presence of a cat sitting on my chest staring at me
while I slept. The cat was Ria. “Wake up and smell the
coffee,” she gently cooed.
I couldn’t imagine how she had gotten into that position
without me waking straight off. She was straddling me
and half lying atop me. It was a familiar posture from
childhood, but any adult interpretation tended to
involve complete lack of clothing. Of particular
embarrassment for me was that she’d caught me at some
stage of sleep where I had an absolutely throbbing
erection, a condition complicated by being twisted up in
my underwear. The warm soft pressure of her crotch was
hardly the dash of cold water I needed.
I tried to think of all the most horrifying things I
could to make my tide subside. What more wilt-worthy
material was there than the thought that your own sister
might feel your accidental erection? But it was my own
sister on top of me and there was no way she could
mistake what she was sitting on, and Ria really was
doing nothing to abate the situation.
If we’d been naked, the sweat alone would’ve sent me
filling her to the hilt. Her breasts hung unhampered in
her shirt, sometimes swaying against my chest. The view
down her shirt was always excellent. I of course could
not linger on the scenery without appearing quite
obvious. It really was much harder on my neck to keep my
gaze up at her eyes. Ria’s smile seemed to be quietly
laughing about my quandary. She crushed them against me
as she swung her leg back over me, pushing off me to
stand up.
“Coffee’s ready,” she tossed off. “Drink up!”
It was the worst cup of coffee I’d ever had. It was like
she had gone to the clandestine and unscrupulous open
coffee market and been suckered into buying a bag of
dried used grounds disguised as freeze-dried instant.
The best course of action seemed to me to be stoic and
obey orders.
The first order of the day was to put in all the storm
windows. There weren’t all that many windows, but it
didn’t sound like an interesting chore to me. But if I
was going to do any griping, I should have done it by
keeping my yap shut weeks ago. It was a great time-saver
that Ria already had the logistical end figured out. One
of us would climb up the ladder, while the other would
hand up the big panes of glass.
We took turns which helped vary the task. And either
way, I had a great view. Divorcing the sights from the
fact that it was my sister. It gave my mind something to
do while the rest of me hefted away. I mean, I’d be a
liar to deny that Ria’s got a luscious ass, and there it
was, sort of pushed out, just a few feet from my face.
Or else I was looking down deep into some mighty fine
cleavage. Looking down there because that was where I
had to look down to reach down and grab the glass. I
mean, Ria’s my little sister but she’s a big girl now;
she can dress herself.
The problem that arose was that due to warping in the
frames, it was stupidly difficult for the person on the
ladder to hold the window fast while reaching up to
secure the fasteners. I was up top when Ria decided the
best thing was for her to follow up the ladder, reaching
around me to hold the window steady while I busied
around with the latches. She couldn’t help but mash her
breasts against me a few times while she got set.
In all my wriggling around there were some contortions
that required I brush back against them. I was hoping
Ria wouldn’t notice how much I was blushing as I tried
to avoid the touch. I let my manner be matter-of-fact,
and thought it best to mention not a word of it. But it
was driving me crazy, every now and then, that brush of
hot breath on the back of my neck. And then back down
the ladder. Next was the worse way. I followed her
dancing ass up the rungs and then had to become a true
contortionist.
Leaning in enough to hold the glass flat while keeping
my pelvis kept cocked way back. Maintaining that
posture, and affecting it as natural, required true
talent. If I’d been in a calmer state I wouldn’t have
minded nestling on up when the job required it. But
really, my idlings had left me with a big hard thing in
the front of my pants which I really did not want to be
rubbing up against my sister’s ass. On several
occasions, exactly that did happen. I was flooded with
self-mortification, a weird sort of fluid in my veins
and stuff which served to push even more blood into the
offensive member.
I was so relieved when the job was done and it was time
to go in and make sandwiches.
But then afterwards we filled the back of her pickup
with tools and drove down the drive to the road. Down
there a big gate could be swung closed and locked,
blocking the drive. Apparently some errant rural postal
carrier had swerved bad and knocked the gate posts to
their current strange slants. Ria had the new lumber
ready. We weren’t righting the posts. We were there to
replace the old 4x4s with 8x8s, sinking them about a
yard down and setting them in concrete. I’d used a post-
hole digger before in my life, and wasn’t exactly
thrilled at the repeat. Again, the labor was equitably
divided. Down there, the ground revealed itself to be
about three inches of top soil covering an unending bed
of large rocks glued together with clay.
It was hard, hot work, and soon enough Ria finished off
the buttons on her shirt and hung it on one of the
tilted old posts. Ria’s breasts were now covered by only
the pale lacy pink wings of a giant butterfly. I
couldn’t tell if it was a sorry sort of halter, or
bikini top, or more intimate upper apparel. Whatever the
function, the material made the contents sway as easy as
a sweet summer breeze. They jiggled quite smartly when
Ria plunged the digger down in the hole, repeatedly,
seeking purchase.
The whole scene seemed orchestrated, choreographed
really. She’d move halfway around the hole so that by
the time it came to bend low and take the big bite,
well, I would want to bend low and take a big bite
myself. Hey, that’s your sister, I had to keep reminding
myself, and she doesn’t particularly like you in the
first place. Like she’d be terribly thrilled to turn
around and catch me drooling over her ass. Keep your
eyes on the concrete and your hands stirring the shovel,
I made that my motto. But not soon enough, for as soon
as I took over on the digger, Ria bitched at me for not
attending to the concrete.
“You let it start getting hard,” she snapped. No doubt!
“You should have stirred it more.” No doubt!!
Her remonstrations did act nicely as a bucket of cold
water, leaving me in much less of a state when we got
down to the tugging and grunting of getting the posts
set in place. Difficult though it was, I kept most of my
mind on the job holding the posts steady while Ria
twisted and turned, shoveling the concrete from the
wheelbarrow into the holes. The posts stood up straight
and tall and proud. “See,” I said as we cleaned up,
“everything worked out fine. They’re poking up like
poplar trees.”
Ria, I swear, blushed. And it was that that made me
decide that her nipples really were erect. Well, we’d
been working pretty hard and gotten hot and sweaty, and
now as we loaded up the truck the afternoon was fairly
done and the air was taking on the chilly cast of
evening. Something else was starting to poke up again as
well, but I was feeling pretty cocky having discovered
that, come untucked during our labors, my shirt was
plenty long enough to keep all that quite hidden.
I couldn’t figure out why I was so blasted horny. It
probably was some bizarre combination of a good honest
day’s work and the vast lungfuls of clean mountain air.
At any rate, I figured once I got my turn at the shower
just the mild touch of soaping myself up would take care
of the problem. I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to
do about the matter of my sole set of clothing being
soiled.
As to be expected, Ria seized first shot at the shower.
Only there wasn’t a shower, just a bath. She was off in
the tub splashing away for hours like a child. When she
emerged she was flushed from the heat, trotting to the
bedroom in just a towel. “Woo! It’s chilly in here,” she
squealed. “Why don’t you hop in the tub while I get some
dinner going, and then we’ll attend to the fireplace.”
Actually, the thought of a long hot soak held great
appeal. It’d been a long hard day for all of us, and
even my penis was pretty tired. I turned on just the hot
tap and started taking off my clothes. It didn’t occur
to me until I was nearly done that Ria had left her
clothes exactly as she’d shed them. They lay on the
floor like land-mines. I wasn’t about to touch them.
Maybe she’d arranged them just so to know if I had. I
didn’t need to bend down to know how fragrant the
panties would be so I didn’t. It was enough to see that
they were these tiny sheer lacey lavender things that I
seriously doubted any woman would wear as every day.
I resisted the temptation wholly, except for the old
letch between my legs, who certainly rose up for a good
long look. I decided that at my imminent and immediate
leisure I might start feeling rather sexy. I was working
out the logistics of not splashing too obviously when I
realized the only washcloth around was Ria’s, flung atop
the soap unwrung out. The bath, as I shut off the tap,
didn’t seem inspired to steam the window much less the
mirror. I stepped in and it was absolutely tepid. Ria’s
bath had been no doubt very toasty. Mine hardly had the
warmth to make soap work. I sat down in the water and
nearly burst into tears.
Almost immediately Ria burst through the door. There
wasn’t any time to grab the washcloth. She paid me no
real mind, “Just thought I’d throw your clothes in the
wash while dinner’s going.” She stooped to gather the
laundry and I got a very clear view that under her not-
very-long t-shirt Ria was barely clad in a pair of
panties that did indeed make the pair on the floor look
like everyday wear. Her hair all tucked into the turban
of the towel completed her exotic look.
“So yeah and hey thanks for leaving me so much hot water
hey okay?”
I was feeling pretty cocky having snagged the washcloth.
Ria gathered up the bundle, turning back to me as she
paused in the doorway, “Looks to me like you’re about to
make all the hot water you need.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Then again I couldn’t
believe my eyes. While I was covered, the washcloth hung
down limp from some point in the air as if I was
performing some trick of levitation. I stayed in the tub
as long as I could stand it, which wasn’t long at all.
My next dilemma was that in all of the bathroom there
was just one very small hand towel. It wasn’t even big
enough to wrap around my middle. I just sort of held it
around the front of me, hovering at the cracked doorway
calling, “Hello? hello?” I kept up my cry as I skirted
around the room and scooted up the hall to the kitchen,
where Ria finally acknowledged that I was talking to
her. “Towel? towel?” I cried.
“Oh?” she answered. She stayed at the stove and gestured
to the back of a chair at the table. “Use mine.
Everything else is packed away. Sorry.” She made no move
to fetch it, leaving it for me to get clear across the
kitchen. I sort of danced my way there doing a modified
hula. She turned to watch the whole show. “Geez you
goof,” Ria snickered, “I’m busy with dinner, I’m your
sister, and I’ve seen it all before.”
I scurried back to the bathroom to the sound of her
laughter. The towel was mostly damp, but there was
enough dryness for me to finish my business. Actually I
found the towel pretty intoxicating, with all its smells
of soap and water and clean skin, the fruity scents of
shampoo and conditioner. I had the towel over my head
rubbing my hair when I encountered a completely
different odor.
The pheromones went like lightning bolts to my brain. My
goodness, so that’s what all the splashing had been
about! Ria didn’t use this towel to just dry off, she
used it to mop up! Just as I was contemplating all this
Ria was rapping on the door. “What!?”
“Are you still alive in there?”
The problem was that I was very much alive, and waiting
to die down a bit before I came out. “I’m drying off!”
“Hate to rush you, but could you hurry? I’m about to pee
in my panties.”
I managed to strap myself down with one end before
winding the towel around my waist. “Oh and hey, are my
clothes ready?”
“They’re in the livingroom. But I haven’t fired up the
drier yet.”
I was curious. All our clothes from the day were hung on
a wooden rack off to the side of the dark hearth.
“What?” I cried.
“What did you think? Usually I go to the laundromat in
town.”
“I can’t sit around in a wet towel all night!”
Ria laughed from behind the closed door, “I put some
clothes out for you on the bed.”
She wasn’t kidding about it being chilly in the bedroom.
I couldn’t find the light switch but the bed was easy
enough to bump into. I groped and grabbed something that
turned out to be a t-shirt of sorts. The neck scooped
low and was faced with piping and a trim of lace. But at
least it was plenty long, which fast became a factor.
The only other item was a delicate pair of panties.
While skimpy, they were substantial enough to be worth
my wearing. I jumped into them when I heard her in the
living room.
Had to give her credit: she invested in silk. By now my
eyes had adjusted to the dim light. I could see that
indeed there was nothing else on the bed. It was
stripped bare to the mattress. It was a curious feeling,
standing there in that cold dark bedroom wearing a pair
of my sister’s panties. Cross-dressing has never been
one of my sexual imperatives, but I have to admit that
wearing them felt very nice. By the time I crossed back
into the living room, I was starting to feel much nicer
than I really wanted to.
Ria was kneeling in front of the fireplace stuffing it
full of wood. I managed to make it to a leaning sort of
stance behind the sofa back. “I thought you said there
were some clothes.”
“Sorry! I’m not prepared for visitors who don’t bring
their own.”
“But I feel like a twelve-year-old girl at a slumber
party.”
“So, enjoy the feeling. Like I’ve said, everything’s
packed away. I mean, there is a party dress in the
closet, but to be honest, it covers up less than that
shirt.”
“How do you know?” I sunk a few more inches behind the
couch, “I’m behind the couch and you haven’t even
looked.”
“Believe me,” she turned a grin my way, “I know what my
clothes show.” Such as, I wondered, that her shirt had
ridden up above the top of her panties a good five
inches of bare back. Or that her panties were stretched
so taut that when she leaned into the fireplace to light
the kindling I could see the fullness of her vulva down
to the cleft.
“There,” she stood up satisfied. “Why don’t you drag
that coffee table over here in front of the sofa while I
go get our plates and stuff. Might as well enjoy the
warmth. Have a nice dinner by firelight.” I waited for
her to pad off into the kitchen before I moved.
Fortunately by the time she returned I was in a decent
state.
Ria delivered forks and bowls of a rather simple but
utterly delicious stir-fry served over brown rice. The
portions were just perfect. I was far enough away from
full that I could have easily eaten another whole bowl.
The trade-off was that when the food settled, I didn’t
have to fall down asleep. As well, Ria had prepared a
pair of ample glasses of wine. Instead of napping, I
wanted a fill-up on the wine.
Ria cleared away the dishes and after a banging of door
returned with the bottle. She handed it to me to pour–
nudging her glass–for the both of us. The bottle, I
visibly shivered, was quite well chilled. “Fresh from
the back porch,” she answered, “the best nighttime
fridge ten or nine months of the year.”
The evening turned into one of the most pleasant I’ve
had in a long while. We just sat there in front of the
fire drinking wine and talking in a way we’d never
really gotten to talk before. I quit worrying about the
fact that the lightly clad pout of her mound was clearly
within my view. The texture and pressure of my panties
kept me constantly semi-erect, which had to be just as
visible to Ria as she was to me, but if I just didn’t
think about it my cock stayed within manageable
proportions. As the evening drew to a close, I stepped
over to put another log on the fire. “You should wear
rose-patterned pink silk panties more often,” Ria
commented to my backside, “you do look terribly cute in
them.”
I whipped around to see her face split by a huge grin. I
stuck my tongue out at her, a gesture she returned as
she stood up and stretched. That sight was dessert to
me. The breasts thrusting out against the shirt from her
arching back was very pleasant as was the full view of
her panties pulling up into her crotch, but what really
took my breath away was the exposure of her slightly
rounded tummy.
I wanted to lay my head there and use it for a pillow.
“Hate to break up the party, but I think it’s time for
this old gal to turn in. Tomorrow’s going to be a long,
hard day.” After she returned from the bathroom, I went
in and peed and used her toothbrush. Stepping away from
the fireplace, the rest of the house had gotten
downright frigid.
When I returned to my seat in the room, Ria was cramming
the fireplace full of logs. She had moved the table, and
there were pillows and folded sheets and blankets atop
it. Then she stood up and poked at my thigh with her
toes. “Come on, stand up so I can pull that out into a
bed.”
“Oh, you don’t have to go to all that bother. Just a
pillow and a blanket and I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think you’ll be very comfortable.”
“Why not?”
“Because that won’t leave me any room except directly on
top of you.” Ria must have read my confused look
exactly. She glanced at the bedroom door, which had been
closed. “You’re crazy if you think I’m sleeping in
there. No bedding and the furnace is turned off. You’re
more than welcome to spend the night on a bare mattress
in a freezing cold room, but don’t you ever tell anyone
that it was my idea.”
With the arrangements thus clarified, I stood up and
helped unfold the frame and pull the futon into place,
put on the sheets and things. I decided to go pee one
more time. When I got back, the only light left in the
room was the roaring glow from the hearth. Ria seemed to
have gone instantly asleep. I slipped under the covers
on the vacant side of the bed. At first I thought there
were far too many blankets on, but quickly I realized
how right Ria had been. I started getting pretty chilly
even there in the bed. Ria was no doubt a bit snugger,
having seized the side of the bed facing the fire. She
was even turned away from it.
I was thinking of sort of slowly scooting over towards
her, strictly to pick up some of her warmth. Instead she
cuddled up against me. That was just perfect except her
hand came to rest along my flank. With the every rise
and fall of our breathing, the movement of our bodies
seemed to cock the wrist a bit more, eventually
threatening to let her hand drop directly over my
crotch. After a few minutes I gently lifted the hand up
to my shoulder.
A few minutes after that Ria stirred slightly,
snuggling, nestling up completely against me. In the
process, her hand dropped directly in my lap. I couldn’t
figure out what to do next. My penis is no different
from any other–it likes to be touched. I tried altering
my breathing in relation to hers, but that didn’t do
much to keep her hand from lightly brushing against me.
And then, after not much longer, I had to quit
pretending it was all because of our body motions. Her
hand was rubbing. I whispered her name but she didn’t
answer.
“Ria,” I hissed, “what are you doing?”
“Mmm, I’m stroking a nice big hard cock, what do you
think I’m doing.”
“I know what you’re doing, but what I mean is what are
you DOING?”
“I think it’s the same nice big hard cock I’ve been
looking at all day long. What have you been thinking
about all day long, hmm?” she rolled my pelvis flat and
slid her hand under the elastic. “You’ve been walking
around with quite a hard-on all day long. I call this
the original all day long dong. And I want to suck it.”
“Ria, what are you doing?”
“What?” she mock pouted, “don’t you want me to put your
stiff penis in my warm, wet mouth? Think how luscious my
tongue is.” Ria sort of twisted and turned and sat up,
legs tucked under, leaning my way. The warm length of
her thigh pressed against me from midway of mine on up
past my waist. My panties joined the crowd of covers in
retreating past my knees. She leaned and caressed the
full blown length of the shaft with both hands, fingers
lingering with a spidery dance atop the crown.
“Your lips,” she downright cooed, “say no! no!, but
they’re really not very good liars, are they?” That
said, she dropped down upon me with her mouth. She went
to town so bad so fast I thought she wanted to bring me
off within seconds. My sperm were safely buckled into
their fleet of rockets when she stopped cold. What came
out of my mouth was not a very brotherly groan.
“Did you think this wouldn’t have an effect on me all
day long? I thought about you while I was taking my
bath. Mmm, to be honest, I thought about you twice.”
“I had, uh, kind of guessed that.”
“Was I . . . loud?” she sat astride me, rubbing her
silky crotch up and down my shaft.
“There was a lot of splashing, but really, it was, uh,
the towel. I smelled you on it.”
“So did I. And I was hoping you would. Say,” she started
sliding her way up my torso, “you haven’t told me how I
look in my panties.”
“Well, there’s not really a lot there to discuss.”
“Maybe you just need a closer look,” she growled. With
that she inched over my arms. Her pussy lips were so
flushed the narrow strip of silk couldn’t wholly contain
them. I snapped from the sensory overload. I couldn’t
maintain the facade that I was having a slumber party
with my sister. It was my sister and it was the start of
one hell of a party, but we were fast heading to the
opposite end of the spectrum from anything to do with
slumber.
“Do you like my pretty cunt?”
“Ohh, Ria. So-o-o-o good.” Not only was the fabric so
sheer, but wet as it was it went nearly transparent.
Whenever Ria shifted her hips I could hear the
squishiness of her. My brain was going crazy over the
swelling smell of her sex. As she lowered herself more I
lifted my head and let my tongue come out to make
introductions. I could nearly touch her and I could
certainly taste her.
I don’t know if they tied at the sides or if Ria just
ripped them at the seams. The result being that the
panties came off. And dropped right down on my face. For
the brief instant before she slithered them off away I
experienced first-hand the shroud of the Man Who Died
the Happiest. And then the curtain was lifted.
“Oh god, Ria, your cunt is so beautiful!” I could think
of no greater honor than having my sister lower her love
down upon me for a long sticky kiss.
“Ohhhh, yeaaa. Lick your little sister’s slit. Mmmm,
don’t you love her creamy little pussy? Oooh yea, suck
her clit! oh god yea, make her come all over your face.”
One thing I’ve learned in life is how to follow
directions. Ria ground her hips down, thighs squeezing
my head while her pussy humped my face. She gave a
scream they probably heard way down back in town. My
face was awash in her delicious nectar when she lifted
herself off me. I reached up and grabbed her hips, my
fingers fondling the firm flesh of her behind, and
pulled her back down. It was just such a lovely sight,
Ria’s sex full in the bloom of arousal.
I wanted to kiss it again. And I did, deep French, full
on the lips, lingering long, lips parted, my tongue
spelling out the vocabulary. Much quicker than I
expected I felt the roils of thunder roar up her thighs.
Ria had one of the most cataclysmic orgasms I’ve ever
witnessed. While she recovered, I covered her cunt with
the lightest of kisses, our lips like the wings of
butterflies brushing.
Ria raised up and slid down, twisting our legs into a
knot of crotches humping thighs. She leaned down and
seized my head and began kissing wide circles around my
face. After awhile, my tongue got sort of scared of her
tongue. Then she grabbed a hold of me full, dragging me
on top of her as she rolled onto her back. Her legs were
wide and our parts were touching anyway. Ria had
recovered her voice to just above a pant. “Please,” she
stated, “fuck me now.”
“It will be,” I honestly answered, “my greatest
pleasure.”
Which, exactly, it was. She reached down to guide me in,
and once I was started on my heavenly journey, I inched
my long way in so-o exquisitely slow. We were a pair of
unending moans. Ria came again low and crazy as I buried
the last measure to the hilt. I bit my tongue to the
taste of blood to back away from the edge myself.
“God,” she groaned, “why weren’t we doing this twenty
years ago?
Fuck me, baby. Fuck me crazy all night long.”
I’d barely started to oblige when Ria came again,
effortlessly and extravagantly. I thought it might be
nice to turn her into a slightly different position, but
she pulled me back down. “We have time enough for
everything,” she whispered. “Right now I want you
pinning me down and plunging away. Ravish me, now!”
Her ankles locked behind me, buckling me in for the
ride. And forever we fucked like crazy. I paced myself
well, not wanting it to ever end. I felt like a surfer,
with Ria my crashing ocean. I rode her from crest to
frothy crest. I was off in some sort of universe where
pleasure constantly expanded but never peaked and ended.
But then Ria groped back and found my balls, giving them
a gentle squeeze while grunting, “Now!”
I’m sure I didn’t deposit but a nearly invisible
fraction of a gallon of semen in her cunt, but it sure
felt like I was giving her full measure. I trickled off
forever, matched by her own diminishing quavers.
Even then she wouldn’t let me go, just sort of gently
rocking me in her cradle, her cunt kissing my spent
cock. The soothing coos as she caressed me with the tips
of her fingers and tongue. Her hands magically made my
shirt disappear. She rolled us over, removing her own.
She reached down and gingerly cupped me, stroking me,
then brought her fingers to her lips. “Mmm, you and me
together.”
She shared the secret with a kiss. “The way it was
always meant to be. I’ve wanted you for as long as
you’ve wanted me. What do you think it was that set us
against each other’s throats so early on? I was eight
when I hazily understood the idea of what fucking was.
And I wanted only you to do whatever all that was to me.
To me and only me.”
No longer joined, Ria was free to shift and give me the
treat of a perfect view of her breasts. “Here’s what
you’ve been trying to see all day. And funny thing, I’ve
been trying to get you to see them all day.” I watched
mesmerized as her hands played with their fullness
exactly as my hands wanted to. Then she placed my hand
on one of them and bent down, her other hand offering
the other to my mouth.
The hand that had guided mine retreated down my chest,
the fingers tickling through my pubic hairs until it
reached her destination. I hated to even hint at doing
anything else, but the night was not unending and I was
exhausted from the day, and exhausted from just thinking
about another full day’s labor.
“Um, I thought you said we had a long hard day ahead of
us tomorrow.”
“I did,” she giggled, “but I didn’t say that any of it
involved anything that had to do with getting out of
bed. Nothing we did today was anything that needed to be
done. Just this. Everything else was setting the stage.”
The sounds of Ria went throaty and deep as she pressed
her breasts back and forth against my hungry lips. I
managed to free up a hand to play down at the juncture
of her legs too. She growled and whimpered, “I have you
all for my own for four days. I’m finally going on my
honeymoon.”
“What about afterward?” I wondered aloud.
“I guess I’ll just have to follow you home and seduce
your wife.”
“Oh yea?!”
“Sure. Once we get comfortable with being a writhing
snake pit of adultery and lesbianism and incest, I’m
sure we’ll all be always having a wonderful time.”
I gave Ria a big blank look. I couldn’t imagine how she
could maintain her levity. Already my fingers were
knuckle deep in her froth. “Us girls are good at
sharing. I’m sure she won’t mind letting you pump my
pussy, not when I bury my face between her thighs and
show her my appreciation.”
She chuckled, “What you have to realize, big brother,”
the emphasis on the amazing activity going on in the
pumping of her clenched hand, “is that after I get four
days at you, you won’t be able to survive without me. I
know I’ve already had too big a taste to do without
you.”
Ria straddled me and sank down long and low and
luscious. Our moans rode down in the same elevator. Once
we really got going, Ria was slinging herself around in
the saddle. One of her hands went waving above her head
like it needed to be twirling a lariat.
I was more than willing to be her bucking bronco all
night long. I surrendered completely, grabbing her ass
and grinding her down tight against me, lifting my hips
and sinking myself as deeply as possible into her
sweetness. “Oh yea, ride me wild, baby! Go crazy.”
We were fornicating like a pair of prairie dogs out in
the wilds of the west. As in every great Western, Ria
rode me off into the wild sunrise. Ah, sunrise, sunset,
it got to where I couldn’t tell the difference.