Are These Things Planned Somehow? Ch. 01

"Yet we don't like to talk about penises and pussies, do we?" I say. "Not in polite company. We think of it as smutty. Ours is such a curious, hypocritical culture."

"To think that the whole world throughout history has revolved around dicks and pussies," I say. "Without it there would be no civilization. No people. Just a planet overrun by cockroaches. Yet we don't talk about it."

I am so engrossed in what I am saying that only gradually do I notice what she is actually doing: Slowly and gently sliding her fingers over her labia. Then, as she's starts talking to me, runs her middle finger around it's opening, caressing the outer lips, pulling them back a little to open herself up. She slides a finger up and down her slit, then starts touching her clit lightly, rubbing her finger back and forth. Feeling herself, really without even thinking about it. Her opening is now moist. Her fingers wet and slippery. I realise she not only masturbates, she's become an expert already.

The air around us is steeped in the smell of rain. And a hint of sex.

In my chair, my cock is leaking like a sieve, waving back and forth, fast and jumpy. I have to as discreetly as possible just hold it with one hand to keep from ejaculating. I'm thinking how erotic and sexy she looks, my sister showing herself to me like this. Those smooth legs open wide for both of us to see. Those puffy lips and all that liquid right at the very opening to her. And how silly I must look holding myself, but I've never been this hard ever.

To her, I suppose this is a moment of warm intimacy between us. To me, she has become a magnet of raw sexual desire.

With little warning, I sense that deep warm feeling building in my loins, moving fast to my erection. I realize I'm going to come. What is wrong with me? Why can't I control myself?

"Sorry Sarah. I may be on the verge of losing it."

And then the battle is over. Semen starts shooting out of my cock at rocket speed, hitting her in the stomach and on her stunning boobs. She freezes. I'm convulsing, lost in the moment, as more spews out, hitting her arm, then her thigh, and the arm of the chair.

"I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm so sorry."

With the final drips falling off, she says, "Did I do that to you or have you just needed to do that all along?"

"Do I have to answer?"

"Up to you," she says.

I don't answer.

"You want me to put my clothes back on?" she asks.

"Are you kidding me! Do you want me to put mine on?" I ask.

Though my dick is now limp and moist, her gaze is still fixed on it.

"No," she says.

She walks inside, to the kitchen sink, cleans herself off with a towel.

"I've seen my share of men come before," she owns up to, looking at me as I sit down on the living room sofa, somewhat defeated.

"That amazes me," I tell her. "I never knew." There's a small pause.

"And maybe," I continued to say, "that has something to do with why I like being naked now. Especially naked with you. We're more honest with our clothes off."

Then it dawns on me and I have to ask "What do you mean - you've seen your share of men?"

On dates in school and college, she tells me, she would calm down hyper-sexed guys by giving them hand jobs while sitting in cars. "Most of them I didn't want to sleep with, so I jacked them off just to keep them from mauling my boobs all night - and to get rid of them. I was still really shy and knew that being submissive they could convince me to sleep with them, so I gave them a hand job "

"It's quite possible," I tell her, "that this may happen to me again in front of you."

She looks out the window ahead of her at the rain and growing darkness. She rinses a glass, puts it in the dish drainer. She doesn't look at me. But says blushing really deeply this time...

"I wouldn't be opposed to seeing that again."

* * *

Third Day. How to sleep after all that? I will tell you. A tall bottle of chilled champagne. We split it. No sipping. Practically chugging it. In truth, there is little memory of any of it. But it's morning, I wake up, sun shining in my eyes. I missed the dawn which would normally upset me.

She remains asleep. I hear her soft, steady breathing. Time to replay the night. Why did that happen? It's one thing to share casual nudity. Others do that. But for my sister to spread her legs and let me see her so intimately. To finger herself in front of me. Was she just opening herself up to me, figuratively, letting me learn more of her true, private self? That part of her life no one else may see? Or was she tempting me? Surely not.

Neither of us has ever had thoughts like that. At least I don't think we have. I don't remember it ever crossing my mind. But I'm not sure of anything any more. Maybe neither of us really knows why last night happened. It could have been just a heat of the moment thing.

I fall back asleep with those thoughts. Then wake again. I see she is awake now, on her side, quietly looking at me. She, wrapped in the top sheet, me still naked. She is looking intently in my eyes. I'm squinting through the sun's rays which flood in through the window.

"Was I snoring?" I ask, finishing a yawn.

"No. But you were kind of stroking yourself. You have another erection. And it's really quite large." She's got that blushed look on her face like she has been caught red handed.

I look down. Sure enough. "I wasn't really doing that, was I?"

"Yes, and you looked like you were enjoying it too." She giggles a little, her voice higher, sexy even, breathy from long sleep.

"After last night, I suppose I shouldn't bother with being embarrassed any more," I say.

She smiles. "Good." She moves her face closer to mine. Props her chin on my shoulder. Looks me in the eye.

"You want to know one of my newest secrets?" she asks, her face still in full blush.

"What?"

"I like watching you get hard." she whispers.

She kisses my shoulder. Then sticks out her tongue and licks the same spot.

"So tell me, Alex. Do you wake up hard every morning?" she is still blushing, it's like she's desperately trying to play a character in her head on the one hand and fighting the shyness on the other... battle has commence!

"Practically. But not all the time." I say confidently.

"So, what about those young women you meet. Don't they take care of these things for you? What about Jess?"

"Jess and I are over," I tell her. "We both knew it wasn't going anywhere. I haven't seen her in a month or so."

"Good. You deserve better than her. Sorry, but that's the way I feel. So, are you boning any other girls these days, or handling your needs yourself?"

My cock is engorged. Twitching and bobbing on my stomach. She's looking at it again.

"If you want, I'll leave and let you take care of business." she whispers... almost seductively.

I stare at her in disbelief. "I'm not a boy anymore, Sarah. I can live with an erection for awhile."

"Or, you know what Sarah, you could make this happen for me," I say. "If you won't tell, I won't tell."

She's finally flustered. Can't think of a response. Have I won the battle burning inside us?

"Show me Sarah. Show me you know to do," I'm smiling now. "You've had experience."

She's mumbling through the words which I can't here clearly. Is she reading a script in her head?

"You don't have to take care of me," I say as she closes her eyes and goes quiet.

Suddenly she sits up, cross-legged with her knees resting, one on my thigh, the other against the side of my chest. The sheet has fallen off and her beautiful nakedness is on full display again. Her breasts jiggle a little with her slow movements. Her thighs silky and sleek in the morning light. Her pubic area close enough to inspect, to see the few little droplets of moisture in it. I can smell her sex.

She doesn't grab me, not at first. She runs her fingernails up and down my cock slowly, softly. Then again. Doing it on one side, then the other. She traces a line up to the head of my penis, which already is dripping, getting me wet.

"Your body is pleasing to the eye Alex."

She examines my dick closely, bending down to look. She touches it.

"And this. This is so hard," she says the redness in her face fading.

"Tell me something I don't know?" I ask sarcastically.

She pays me no mind. Takes it all in for a moment. And now, she squeezes my cock a little, strokes it. Just feeling all around, as if it's the first one she's ever viewed.

"I love the way the skin stretches as your cock grows, the way the head gets bigger and bigger. And there's those first little drops of excitement coming out," she says. "And the way your balls change and tighten up." She cups them with one hand. "Then they loosen again, hanging down and swinging, then tightening up." She uses a finger to move them back and forth, fondling them, just slightly swinging them as if they were bells. All in slow motion. No hurry. A studied look on her face. She still has a way to describe things I could only ever dream off. It's amazing how she can just rattle these words off when on the outside she always seemed so shy!

She halts. Then she grasps my dick with her whole hand and holds it there, feeling its thickness and hardness. Squeezing it slightly every few seconds. Driving me closer to the edge. But I can tell she's just getting a sense of the physicality of my erection. For me, the feeling is indescribable.

With her thumb and index finger she encircles my dick, grabbing it right below the head, judging its circumference.

"It's so powerful," she says. "I know what it wants"

"You're making fun of me."

"No. No," she says, getting serious quickly.

"It's got a life all its own. Sometimes jerking and swaying." I say, " It takes my breath away to watch how fabulous your body is Sarah whilst you're doing that."

Moving her hand off, she touches the tip of my dick with her index finger, feeling more drops seeping out. She rolls her finger in the liquid, begins lightly spreading the wet over the head of my dick. Coating it. She leans over for a closer look. I love watching her ample breasts dip down, rise, then dip again with her every move. Then jiggle and sway, her nipples hard and pointed. They, too, seem to have a life of their own.

Holding my erection straight up, at a ninety-degree angle to my stomach, she wraps her fingers around it, begins stroking now, then slowly pumping up and down. I am slippery from my own fluids and am in such a state. She bends over closer, her face hovering above the head of my cock. She spits on it. Then uses her finger to smooth her saliva around the head. Not that I needed extra lubrication. I believe she is just having fun or maybe she was told that was a good thing to do by someone.

She pumps more. Up and down. Up and down. Then with her hand at the bottom of my shaft, she holds it there, with my cock sticking straight up, like some spire. My dick throbs a little and leaks even more, the drops rolling down my shaft. This will not take long. More pumping. My body jerks. I groan. She freezes. Stares at it. I spurt straight up, a good two feet, then a second spurt, even higher, falling down and landing on her knee. One or two more follow, falling back on her hand.

"My God," she says under her breath. "I had forgotten how powerful a man can be. I haven't seen anything like in a little while. Amazing. Simply amazing."

"I wished it could have lasted longer," I tell her.

"I'm not. It's a testament to my skills," she says with a slight giggle. They shy girl sort of back again.

"And the fact that the hand doing me belongs to my own sister," I tell her. I'm not smiling when I say it.

"Does that bother you?" she asks.

"Yes," I tell her.

"You think this is sick?"

"What do you think?" I ask.

"Some people may think so," she says. "I don't because it's you. And I can't think of anyone else I would even consider doing this with."

She wipes a finger through the sperm on her knee, then spreads it on the head of my penis, all over the head, smoothing it in.

"You didn't answer me," she asks. "Do you think it's sick?"

"Probably," I tell her. "Who wouldn't? But I liked it. I can't tell you how much I liked it."

"Me too," she says. "And no one else needs to know. This is just about us."

Some moments pass. Again she is lightly touching my dick.

"And now it retreats, losing all its power, getting soft and quiet," she says. She traces a line down, around my balls, then takes my soft penis in her hand, as if it is a valuable jewel. She seems to be emotional now. Her eyes water.

"But even now, it's still so amazing," she says. "Such a marvellous thing to hold."

* * * .

Sitting on the sofa, late evening now, windows and doors open for the breeze, listening to Nat King Cole in the dark. She plays his velvety voice when she is at her most mellow.

We had been in the surf late morning, shopping for trinkets in the afternoon, crab legs and beer for dinner outdoors at a small seaside cafe. Our conversation inconsequential. A little nervousness and long silences between us, being our last night before heading home - and that she had masturbated her son just this morning. Jacked me off in bed as if we were an old married couple. Once away from the bedroom, we became a little embarrassed. That is still hovering over both of us. But unspoken. We have crossed a line, entering a strange new world.

Back here in the cottage, we sit side by side listening to the music in silence for a long time. The awkwardness between us is tense. Quietly, she draws her legs up, turns sideways on the sofa and stretches them across my lap, puts her head on my shoulder.

"We're going to break all the rules, tonight, aren't we?" she says in a low voice.

"We're going to do this, and it will be just another of our secrets."

I don't answer, but put my hand on her bare legs, push her knee-length sun dress up to mid-thigh and begin caressing the soft skin there. With just the tips of my fingers, I brush ever so slightly down to her knees, then back up her thighs, higher, halting just short of her panties.

"This is dangerous," I tell her as I hold my hand on her thigh. "We could be in so much trouble."

"You think I'm not aware of that?" she says almost under her breath.

Even so, she slowly opens her legs wider on my lap. I stroke her thighs again, wanting this time to feel all the way to the silkiness of her panties. Only I reach and there are no panties. My fingers touching soft hair, softer lips and the liquid opening to her sex. She is wet.

She lies down on the sofa, resting her head on a throw pillow, legs still across my lap. I push the dress up to her waist. She opens her legs even wider. Over the course of the last few days we have been naked together, but tonight, here on the sofa, there is a raw nakedness to her, sending a weak feeling to my very core. Our eyes, adjusted to the night, find each other. Those sleepy, half-closed eyes telling me it's okay.

But it is not okay. We are facing the unthinkable. An unrelenting shaming if we are found out. There might be no redemption. We should stop. But neither of us can. We are hearing the siren call, being drawn toward ruination, our possible undoing. We are drowning in desire, sucked in by an undertow of lust, love and friendship that we can't swim out of.

"Just this once, Alex." She says softly.

"Just tonight," I say.

"That's all it can be," she says. "Tomorrow we go home and back to following the rules." I nod.

I pause a moment. Then slide a finger inside her, gliding in easily, engulfed in warm liquid. Another finger. Bring my fingers out slowly. With just my fingertips, trace a light path around the edges of her opening. Everywhere I touch is glistening in warm moisture, my fingers gliding all around. I love the slightly sticky wetness of her. Again I dip fingers in her, just as slow. Through the dark and shadows, I see her watching my face. Studying it.

I want to go fast. To climb on her and take her with abandon. Like a teen aged boy having his first time. But I resist. This should last. Go slow. Take our time. The night too precious to waste by hurrying.

Tracing the soft opening and those small now puffy lips with my fingers. I quickly grow to love that. And now, smelling her sex as more liquid coats my fingers and dribbles down into the crevice of her buttocks. With my thumb, I find her clitoris, softly play with it like I'd seen her do, caressing it different ways until I find what brings the best reaction. Moving my thumb across her clit, then back down. That works. Brings sighs, causes a shudder. She moves one of her hands down to the slight bulge above her lips. Begins caressing herself there, just above my thumb. We are in tandem. More heavy breathing. More shudders.

My two fingers are still inside her, moving in and out slowly, and my thumb up and down on her clit. I let my little finger slip down, below to the crevice. Find the opening to her anus. Small, moist, oily. Rub my finger around it. Push on it a little. Her breathing heavier now. My thumb, fingers all moving in steady, slow rhythm, in and out, back and forth, pushing into both her openings. All in one back-and-forth motion. Slow. Over and over again.

And then a sequence of shudders and low groans. Growing stronger, convulsing, her pelvis undulating. A panic of release building in her loins. Pushing her bottom into my leg. I slide my little finger all the way in her ass, slowly, gently. Now she's at the precipice. Then over the top. Her thighs clamp on my arm and hand that is inside her. With strength I didn't know she had. Her whole body, all of her, seems to be sweating, squeezing. The sweet smell of her everywhere, pervasive throughout the room.

Then a calmness. I remain still, quiet. She too. But her eyes always on me. After a few minutes, I lift my fingers to feel her face. Tears in her eyes. Moistness on her cheeks. I ask what is wrong. She catches her breath. And in what is barely above a whisper . . .

"It feels like a long time since I've felt it that strong," she says. "I had forgotten how good it feels to have someone else do that."

* * *

Fetching yet another cold bottle of chardonnay from the fridge, she takes off my clothes. I take off her dress pulling it off slowly to savour the moment. We sit back on the sofa, still in the dark. More Nat King Cole. She curls up in my lap, her hair ruffled, skin warm, face flush. She grows quiet, especially tender and soft now.

My hands start to caress over her, slowly. From her shoulders. Down the back. To her haunches. Toward those dark, secret places of hers. They are still warm and wet. With her on my lap, my erection is poking up between her legs. She touches it lightly. Strokes it. Holds my balls, gathers the liquid from the head of my cock with her fingers, brings them to her lips. Then holds my erection in her hand.

"So powerful and so strong," she says. "You could break me, take the very life out of me if you wanted to."

"I would never." I whisper

"That is what's so amazing. You could hurt me. Really hurt me. But I know you won't."

She runs her fingers around the head of my cock. Plays with the droplets. I fight for control.

"A little terrifying really," she says.

"Actually, I'm just average, nothing to write home about."

"No, no. Don't tease. It's really frightening but beautiful. With you inside of me, I could really lose myself."

She pulls my face to hers. We kiss, her lips tasting a little salty, slight cinnamon flavour. It's just lips brushing against lips. She sticks her tongue out. Traces it around my upper lip. Slips it into my mouth. Tongues exploring tongues. A warmth spreading. Somehow it doesn't seem strange. I think of her not as my sister, but as Sarah, this lovely, lovely young woman I have known all my life. But in an instant I do think of her as my sister. I can't help it. So unreal. Like a dream. So lovely. But wanton. Lewd. Depraved. All of this so perverted and somehow feels planned and destined.