It Started with a Kiss Ch. 02

The head of his cock parted her lips like Moses parted the red sea, only Frank imagined that his cock had a little less maneuverability than the wide wall of water that his biblical counterpart had. Monica was tight. And not only was she tight, but also scorching hot and slicker than a wet mackintosh. It had to be a mixture of sweat as well as pussy juice, because there was absolutely no way she could be that turned on.

Inch by loving inch he slid into her body, until finally, with his eyes screwed shut and his tongue being attacked by Monica's, the remaining naked flesh disappeared between her legs and nestled comfortably into its new home. It was as if her pussy was trying to strangle his cock, or in the very least grip him so tightly that he could never escape her humid confines.

"Oh fuck," Frank gasped.

A host of giggles entered his mouth, yet Monica continued to kiss him. Although now her pace dwindled somewhat and she relaxed into a steadier rhythm. She was a good kisser and she seemed to revel in the sharing of tongues and saliva.

He moved his hands to either side of her head and slipped them underneath the fluffy pillow until they broke through the other side and his fingers curled around the edge. While doing that, Monica brought her legs up around his waist and enclosed them around his body, the balls of each dainty foot resting against the curve of each one of his ass cheeks.

They released each other's tongues and Frank was met by a red-faced Monica. She was breathing hard and licking at her shiny lips. Sliding down her face were tiny rivulets of sweat. Pasted to her shiny forehead were a few strands of hair – the moisture had turned them from blonde to a light brown.

"Are you going to make love to me or just sit there and admire the view?" she asked softly, then wriggled her ass around with impatience.

"Ugh," he grunted. Each rotation of her ass made his cock move around inside her like a wooden spoon stirring a bowl of cookie mixture.

"Can you give me the English version?"

"Uh...shit, I think that I'm limited to caveman talk for the time being."

"Well, you've already got me on my back with my legs open and your cock inside me; I don't think you need to club me over the head and drag me around by the hair. I'm being real easy for you Mr. Caveman, go ahead and start fucking me any time you like."

"You're a minx," Frank laughed, "a sexy little minx and you're going to get what you deserve."

"So hurry up and give it to me," she cried huskily, and then emphasized her need by wriggling her hips wildly again. "Frank, if I have to ask again I'm going to get violent." There was a pained expression on Monica's face and he half believed what she said to be true.

It was surreal to say the least. Here he was, on his bed, on top of his beautiful blonde sister with his cock buried so completely inside her pussy that his balls were resting snug above her asshole.

Frank squeezed the edges of the pillow until his knuckles turned white, and using it as leverage he began to fuck Monica very slowly, all the while gazing into her beautiful green eyes. His strokes were long and gentle and their shallow breathing was masked by the soft slapping of their bodies as she raised her hips to parry each downward thrust. At the apex of each withdrawal from her body, Frank's cock screamed at him to slam back inside and pound the girl lying underneath him senseless. Nice guy that he was, he refused this advice and opted for a gentler approach.

"Are you okay?" he asked, making sure that she was experiencing zero discomfort.

A lovesick smile spread over her lips and she caressed his cheek affectionately, running her fingernails lightly over his skin. "Aren't you sweet? I'm more than okay, Franky, I've never felt better."

She brought his face down to hers and gave him a quick, breathless kiss. Frank could feel Monica's soft mouth trembling against his own as their lips touched briefly. Then the sensation was gone and she pulled his head down to the pillow so that they were pressed cheek to cheek. Her lips rested against his ear and she licked and kissed it as his cock maintained its slow-paced rhythm.

"Thanks for asking though, I'm sure most guys wouldn't care," she whispered.

"I just don't want to hurt you, that's all."

"I'll tell you if you do. It doesn't hurt right now, it feels wonderful."

The insides of her vagina were so buttery that each insertion of his cock was rewarded with a wet squelch – the undeniably juicy sound of two people fucking. It wasn't primarily the fact she was so slippery that turned him on. It was a combination of wetness, warmth and an irresistible tightness that could send a guy crazy with lust.

"Good God you're tight," he hissed.

Monica giggled and dug her heals into his ass, forcing his cock into her a little bit faster and a little bit deeper. "That's what happens when you never stick anything in there that's wider than a carrot or a couple of fingers."

"You've never used anything bigger?"

"I read in Cosmopolitan that guys don't like loose pussies. The last thing I want is to be able to be used as a hand puppet."

This caused Frank to laugh hard and his thrusts became jerky, ultimately dislodging him from within her body. He scrambled feverishly and they both sighed with relief when he slid back into her.

He raised his head from the pillow and their eyes locked. An invisible energy crackled between them as they met each other's simmering gaze. Before he even processed what was happening he shoved his tongue into her mouth and began kissing her passionately. Monica returned his kiss with a fervid intensity, attacking his lips and tongue while running her hands over his sweaty back and through his hair.

A squeal of pleasure vibrated along his tongue when he threw off the shackles and began fucking her harder, faster, with long even strokes that were enthusiastically met by Monica's own surging hips.

If there was a God, Frank hoped that even if He found incest to be a mortal sin, surely He would commiserate with Frank's plight. Monica was one of the most beautiful creatures that the almighty had graced the planet with – both of mind and body – therefore, in all his divine wisdom even God couldn't punish him for doing what felt as natural as breathing or blinking.

Monica removed her tongue from his mouth with a loud slurp and proceeded to lick her way down his chin until she came to the hollow of his throat. Once there, she began sucking and nipping at the tender area, while some of her wispy blonde locks of hair drifted against his neck and tickled his skin.

His cock was pounding into her body at a frenzied rate – though not too hard to cause discomfort – and Monica's hips continued to encourage him to slide deeper, slam faster. Each time he stabbed himself into her pussy she would grunt softly and, with every withdrawal, she would moan loudly and clutch at him desperately until he filled her up again.

"Oh Mon," he cried, a shiver of delight running the length of his spine. "You feel so good, and your pussy...so tight, so wet."

She stopped kissing his throat and brushed her lips against his ear. "I'm this wet because of you," she sighed.

Sex had never been this good. It wasn't nice to compare one sexual partner with another, but this had to be the greatest experience he'd ever encountered. Even Kathy, who had been playful if a little shy, couldn't compete with the explosive feelings that Monica was evoking.

Their incessant fucking was now producing a very audible squishy noise that resonated from between Monica's legs. She was trembling against him as if she were freezing cold, but that couldn't be the case because she was completely covered in a fine layer of slick sweat. A low whine escaped her voice box and her upward humping became haphazard and jerky, out of sync with Frank's own rhythmic thrusts.

He raised his head and opened his eyes for the first time in minutes. After blinking rapidly he focused on his sister's face and he almost lost control of his libido right then and there. Her eyes were screwed shut and her silky smooth brow was covered in hundreds of droplets of sweat. Golden tendrils of hair were glued to her forehead and cheeks, while the rest of her mane was fanned out over the fluffy white pillow. Her soft lips were parted and a host of steady moans, grunts and whines flowed forth, although they were joined every few seconds by her delicate tongue, which would dart out quickly and lap at her shiny lips.

With each subsequent viewing Monica became more beautiful to Frank, a little sexier and a lot cuter. Images of eating her out last night played in his mind like a video recorder – her aroma, taste and reaction to his tongue all flashed behind his eyes as he gazed at her face. These memories spurred him on faster and his cock wanted to make her cum again. It wanted to make her have such a powerful orgasm that his eardrums would explode and the house would fall down around them.

"Are you going to cum?" he asked, beginning to puff with exertion.

It took her a few seconds to swallow the build-up of saliva and get her voice under control. "Y-yes," she stuttered.

"Open your eyes, look at me while you cum."

Monica raised her eyelids like a pair of blinds and underneath she revealed a pair of green orbs that seemed to delve so deep into his soul that he was profoundly affected by her unblinking gaze. No girl had ever stared at him like that. So trusting and lovingly, and he'd never felt as at home in a girl's arms as he did right now.

"I love you," he whispered. "God, I love you so much."

A whimsical smile touched her lips and her eyes glimmered. "And I l-love y-you," she stammered breathlessly.

A pained countenance cast over her face and her body wasn't just trembling now – it was quaking as if she were a volcano about to erupt. Molten hot lava was dribbling all over his thrusting cock and her pussy was contracting around him, squeezing at his shaft as if it wanted to trap him deep inside her body for all time.

"Oh fuck," she groaned loudly, her hips out of control. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!"

Her arms and legs clutched desperately at him as if she were a crocodile, a fierce reptile who was about to roll over and suffocate him underneath the murky water. But she didn't, all she did was grip at him as if he was her savior and chant that four-lettered swear word over and over again.

Then Monica's eyes became unfocused and he wondered if he'd turned into a clear pane of glass, because she was staring right through him. Her skin prickled with gooseflesh and he could feel her hardened nipples graze against his chest. She was panting hard. Sweat dripped from his face and splashed against her cheek. Time seemed to stand still as Frank eagerly awaited Monica's orgasm, keeping in mind that his wasn't too far away either.

And then she erupted with a ferocity that would rival the fabled volcanic eruption of Krakatoa.

First of all, her body went as taut as tightrope walker's line and her saturated pussy tensed around his invading cock. Her eyes widened and the repetitive chant of 'oh fuck' ceased, yet her lips continued moving silently to the words. Then, a whole host of obscenities clawed their way up her throat and flew from her mouth, some of the words she moaned so vulgar that she could put any swearing larrikin to shame.

All of a sudden she softened and started writhing underneath him like a flopping fish. A girlish squeal filled his ears and her vagina bucked against his stabbing penis – her movements so wild his that his cock was almost jolted out of her body.

Monica slipped her arms from his neck and cupped his face in her soft hands, pulling his head downward until their mouths met and her expletives were cut to mere murmurs. Their tongues sucked hungrily and she continued to squeal into his mouth, although now it was a distinctly muffled sound.

It crossed his mind that he should pause and wait until Monica's orgasm had passed. But he couldn't. He was so horny and aroused that he continued to screw her, which caused her to squirm against his thrusting cock like a skewered worm. The movement from between her legs was becoming more frantic, as were her exploring tongue and lips.

Frank removed his tongue from her mouth but left his lips pressed gently to hers. "Would you like to be on top?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she moaned. "I'd love it."

She unlaced her legs from around his body and let them drop to the mattress. Frank retrieved his arms from underneath the pillow, latched his hands onto her shoulders and in one fluent move he rolled sideways until Monica was straddling him like a cowgirl.

The whole process had been executed with fine-tuned precision – not once had there been any danger of his cock slipping out of her pussy.

When she was in a comfortable sitting position she stopped moving around and sat completely impaled on his stiff length of flesh. She was panting like a marathon jogger and the heavy rise and fall of her chest made her breasts jiggle invitingly. Long slivers of hair hung about her face in blonde cascades, but she hardly seemed to notice. She was too focused on staring into his beautiful brown eyes to be aware of her sweaty condition or annoying hair.

"This has to be close to going off soon," she said, slowly rotating her hips to indicate what she was referring to.

"It will be," Frank groaned.

Monica slipped her hands down her stomach and gently traced the edges of her spread pussy, where her skin ended and his cock began. Her gaze left his eyes and focused between her legs. The expression on her face was one of great curiosity, and then her eyes drifted from her exploring hands and locked onto his again.

"I can feel your cock deep in there...so warm...so hard," she sighed.

Without warning Monica started bouncing enthusiastically up and down on his cock. The loud and repetitive slap of her ass meeting his balls drowned out her labored breathing and Frank's agonized gasps – the fleshy collision of their bodies was the only sound they could hear.

"Oh Christ, Mon. Don't you dare think about stopping."

"Wouldn't hear of it," she whimpered.

Her nicely proportioned breasts jerked each time she embedded herself on his shaft and it was impossible for him to just lay there and not play with them. As her slick pussy milked his cock he ran his hands along her smooth thighs, up her stomach and cupped both of her springy breasts in his hands. He played, squeezed and toyed with them. He pinched her nipples and hefted the juicy melon-shaped objects against his palms, testing their weight.

Then she really began to ride him hard. Her hips slammed roughly into his, sending brilliant bolts of pleasure racing down his shaft and through every sensory receptor in his entire body. There was a look of determination in her eyes, like she was on a covert mission and she had objectives that she must fulfill. One such objective was to fuck him until he drenched her pussy in his cum, and boy, she was taking the right path to succeeding.

It wasn't long before Monica was entering the zone of having her second orgasm. Seeing as how she'd never had the chance to coast down from the first one, and the fact that she was riding him so aggressively – not to mention the pleasure he was giving her by fondling her tits – it was no wonder that she came so fast.

"Oh fuck!" she gasped. Her mouth was slack and her eyes half closed, the irresistible look of pleasure on her face couldn't be missed, even by a blind man. "I'm going to cum, Franky. Oh shit, fucking hell, I'm going to cum."

While she was in the throes of her second explosive orgasm, Frank's own became imminent. It all became way too much for him to handle – Monica's squeals of pleasure, the two beautiful breasts he was fondling, her sweaty body, the adorable look on her flushed face, his engorged cock being hugged by her flooded pussy, and the simple fact that he was fucking a beautiful young girl who happened to be his sister – it all sent him spiraling over the edge.

"Oh sweet Jesus, here it comes," he gasped.

Moving fast, Monica grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled them both back to their previous positions. When he landed on top of her his cock slammed deep into her tight, juicy pussy, and he felt the typical sensation of his body readying itself for ejaculation.

"I want every single drop," she whispered, then feverishly attacked his mouth with her lips and tongue. She was obviously still in the pleasurable clutches of her orgasm, because her pussy was still tensing around his erection and her hips were grinding against his. It was as if her pussy wanted to devour more cock than he had to offer her.

He trembled violently in her arms and gasped around her sucking tongue, almost clamping his teeth around it when his sperm shot explosively out of the tip of his cock. Three large spurts of stringy semen blasted into her depths, filling her with his sticky white spunk. After the initial throbs more continued to leak into her at a slow dribble, but the majority had already been spent.

The soft inner-walls of her pussy milked every last drop from him and his cock was a desperately willing participant in donating it all to her.

Most guys, despite the dangers of disease and pregnancy, love shooting their sperm into a woman's vagina and Frank was no exception. Perhaps the simplest answer boiled down to genetics, that males have a built-in need to perpetuate the species. Maybe that was it, but Frank liked to believe that for him it was more than just human mechanics. He liked to think that it was born of the romantic ideal that a part of him would live on in every girl he came inside of.

Monica stroked his sweaty back and moaned softly into his mouth. When she stopped bucking and shuddering against him the urgency eked out of her kiss and was replaced with a smoldering sensuality. Her lips turned soft, tender, and her wet tongue poked against his with dainty flicks.

Their lips broke apart and they stared at each other for a long moment. She looked sated. Her entire face glowed with satisfaction and Frank gave himself a mental high five. Mission accomplished, he thought. At the end of the day that was all he cared about, making sure that the girl he made love to thoroughly enjoyed herself and was left deeply stimulated –both in body and soul.

"Wow," she said.

"Wow," he echoed.

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "No matter what happens between us, I'll always remember this."

"Me too, it'll be kind of hard to forget."

Worried about crushing her with his weight, Frank rolled away from her and landed in a sticky patch of sweat. It was where he'd laid only minutes ago while Monica had ridden him like a wild pony, and he was amazed with how damp the sheets were. The room was hot and humid, but it hardly seemed to register.

There was movement next to him and when he turned he was confronted by Monica lying on her left side, one elbow taking the grunt of her weight and the hand connected was pressed against the side of her head, holding it up. Blonde hair drifted down to her shoulders and she'd taken the initiative to tuck back any loose strands behind her ears. Also, her face was shiny but sweat-free. Obviously she'd wiped it away on his blanket or pillow.

She just sat there with a quirky smile and looked down at him. "I can't believe we just did that. I mean, I believe it, but I don't."

"Neither can I," Frank agreed. He reached out and touched her right forearm, gliding his palm over the slick, warm skin until his fingers reached hers and molded them together. For a few moments they tightened their grip on each other, and that simple gesture passed across information that could never be expressed with mere words.