Lizzie's Sanctuary

"How is the sun on your balcony, by the way?" she asked.

"What? The sun? Oh." I looked out through the door that led to my balcony. "It's fairly bright in the morning through early afternoon."

Lizzie nodded as she scooted closer to me. Her nipples were hard buds trapped by cloth. My cock was becoming a hard rod concealed by my boxers, shorts and the catalog in my lap.

"So which one do you think I should go with?" she asked, turning a page in the catalog.

"Didn't you say you really liked the one with the hardwood footboard?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, nodding as she pushed her hair back from her face. "But that's one of the sets they'll have to order."

"It'll probably be that way with anything you pick out," I said. "Choose something you like. We can deal with the wait."

"Okay," she said, leaning back against the couch. "You know, there's no way I could make it right now without you."

"Nonsense," I said. "You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. But I'm glad to help in anyway I can."

"I know," she said, leaning forward and kissing me. "And you're helping me a lot. I won't forget it, either. I promise."

Lizzie climbed off the couch and disappeared into what she had claimed as her bedroom again, giving me a first look at the backside of her bikini. That meant I actually had a good look at her backside, period, because only a narrow sliver of cloth separated her ass cheeks. My little sister, who'd been a bit of a scrawny stringbean up through her senior year in high school had filled out nicely in adulthood. Sister of mine or not, she was an attractive woman.

Halfway toward her room, she pulled the string on the back of her bikini top and slipped it from her body as she disappeared from view. I had a flashback to the summer after she graduated high school. I came home one afternoon and caught Lizzie and a friend of hers sunbathing topless in the backyard. I don't even remember the girl's name; I just remember Lizzie doing a poor job of pretending to cover herself. At the time, her breasts had been tiny mounds of flesh with small, pert nipples. I blinked hard, trying to shake the image from my mind.

A few minutes later as I sat watching the news, Lizzie walked back into the room and slid next to me on the couch, lifting my arm and pulling it around her as she snuggled against me and laid an arm across my lap. She'd changed out of her minimalist bikini and into a dark red, sleeveless nightgown. The lighting in the room was dark enough that I couldn't tell if the cloth was thin or not, but I could see that only a couple of the buttons down the front were fastened, leaving her with a plunging neckline.

I sighed deeply as I hugged Lizzie to me. Long ago, when the three of us were kids, teenagers, we'd been pretty close. I kissed the top of her head as she hugged me back and burrowed a little deeper into the couch. I kept telling myself that I couldn't afford to yield to the butterflies in my stomach and the dull ache and heaviness in my crotch.

When the news went off, Lizzie put a hand on my thigh and pushed herself up.

"I'm gonna go ahead and go to bed," she said, leaning in, kissing me on the cheek and hugging me. "Thanks for letting me snuggle."

"Anytime, Sis," I said, putting my arms around her again.

Lizzie pushed against me, pulling her head back and kissing me on the cheek. Her lips brushed against me as she pulled herself to me again, and I felt her relax.

I loosened my hold on her body and she pulled back from me. I put a hand to her face, tilted her head down and kissed her forehead.

"That makes me feel like a little girl all over again when you do that," she said. "That was dad's thing."

I remembered dad doing that with Kath and Lizzie all the time. Mom did it with me.

"I didn't mean to..."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't mean in a bad way. It's... comforting. I like it"

She sat back, holding my hand with both of hers. Her thumbs rubbed the back of my hand as she smiled at me.

"How much longer are you going to be up?" she asked.

"Not long," I said, "then I'll be right behind you. That feels really good." Her fingers were pressed firmly into my palm as her thumbs massaged the back of my hand. The net effect was a hard to explain tingling sensation.

"Play your cards right," she said, "and I'll give you a back rub soon."

Lizzie released my hand and I watched her get up and walk out of the living room. I found myself wondering if she was as naked beneath the thin red cloth as she'd been beneath the white one from the night before. I turned my attention back to the television and leaned back, thinking of anything and everything to get my mind off of Lizzie and the erection that I had developed.

Several minutes later, I turned off the television, made sure the rest of the lights were off and headed for bed. It looked like Lizzie was already asleep, so I tried to be quiet, and thought I did a pretty good job of succeeding. I slid under the covers and got comfortable. Almost immediately, she rolled over and reached for me.

Lizzie grabbed my arm and pulled herself to me, and without saying anything at all, snuggled herself against me like it was the most natural thing in the world, throwing one of her legs over mine. I wasn't sure how to respond. In nearly ten years of sleeping with women I was involved with, I'd enjoyed the experience of actually sleeping with them, not just fucking them, but this was different. I loved my sister, but what was I supposed to do?

Whether it was her final act before going to sleep or her attempt to put me at ease, I couldn't tell you, but Lizzie tilted her head up, brushed her lips against mine in a brief, pensive kiss and I felt her go limp. Without thinking, I'd kissed her back, but it was so quick, you could almost say it didn't happen. But then I kissed her on the forehead again, hugged her as her body melted into mine and we both drifted off to sleep.

The next couple of weeks practically flew by.

Lizzie's furniture was finally on its way, more than two weeks after she had ordered it. On one hand, I was looking forward to her bedroom suit arriving. Now she had her own bed to sleep in, removing what was an increasingly uncomfortable situation. We were closer than we'd ever been growing up, and I could feel a physical attraction building between us; the line between brother and sister blurring increasingly out of focus.

On the other hand, for Lizzie, my condo was now more than her sanctuary from a marriage gone bad; it was her home, too, where she lived with the one person she was closer to than anyone else on the planet, and it was now very clear, to me, anyway, that she and I were closer than she had ever been to Warren. Forget the heat building between us, she wasn't the only one that found our time alone together to be warm and comfortable. Slipping an arm around her in bed to hold her as we slept had quickly become something like second nature, and I grudgingly admitted to myself that I would miss her being in bed with me at night.

The high point came when Lizzie met with her attorney and filed for her divorce. A friend of hers had recommended a really good attorney, and Warren began to feel the heat pretty quick.

A few days later, I found myself taking the afternoon off and hitting the gym on the way home to work out some nervous energy. I got home as rush hour began booming and jumped into the shower. After I dried off and got dressed, I sat on my balcony and flipped through my mail as I listened to the roar of the traffic on the nearby highway.

Lizzie got home about an hour after I did and brought trouble with her. Warren followed her through the front door of my condo. Lizzie was in tears with him trailing behind her pleading that she didn't understand and that she had to give him another chance. I walked in and came around the corner as she told him for the third time that she wanted him to get out and leave her alone; she didn't want to talk to him. I thought both ideas were simply outstanding. Warren clearly did not concur.

Warren has a good mop of hair on his head, and I used it to help steer him back out of my condo as I convinced him it was in his best interest to leave, giving him the choice of the elevator or the stairs. He wisely chose the elevator and went on his way after I advised him not to come back. If Lizzie wanted to talk to him, she could call him.

I shut my front door, locked it behind me and found Lizzie sitting in the kitchen drying her eyes.

"Is he gone?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "And I don't think he'll be back. I told him you'd call him if you wanted to talk. I think he'll take the hint."

"I hope so," she said, sniffing.

I told Lizzie to unwind, make herself comfortable and change clothes. I told her I thought we could cook dinner and spend a quiet evening together.

Over dinner, Lizzie told me she and a couple of her girlfriends were going to her house on Saturday to pack more of her belongings. I asked her if she needed my help, and she told me she was pretty sure they could handle it. Besides, she said, she was probably going to stay the weekend with one of the women who'd been her roommate in college.

I really liked her answer for a couple of reasons. First, I had a couple of internet based classes I needed to get wrapped up, so it sounded like both of us would be busy for the weekend. More importantly, though, a friend of mine was headed to town for a series of business meetings, and she'd called to ask if I wanted to go to dinner with her and spend some time together. My answer was an immediate yes; when Rebecca asked about 'spending some time together,' she meant she wanted to fuck.

Rebecca and I were what could only be described as friends with benefits. We'd both hired on at the same time with the same company, and we watched each other's backs while we learned our new jobs. We were perfect for each other. I didn't want to commit, and she wouldn't afford herself to commit. She was too focused on making a career. After three years of working together, she'd gone to work for another company, but we still called each other every time we went on the road, and while the sex wasn't always earth shattering, it was always a good release. But that was at least three days away, and right now, I was spending the evening with my sister.

Lizzie wasn't really in the mood to go anywhere and do anything, so we tossed a movie into the DVD player and curled up together on the couch.

When the movie was over, Lizzie kissed me good night and got up to go to bed. She stopped short and turned around.

"Can I ask you something? And you forget I'm your sister for the sake of discussion?"

"Okay." I turned around to look at her.

"Am I pretty?" she asked.

"Yeah. Of course you are."

"No," she said, shaking her head walking back toward me. "I'm serious. Forget I'm your sister. If you went to a party and you were checking out the women, would I attract your attention? Would you consider asking me out? Am I attractive enough that you'd want to sleep with me?"

How was I supposed to answer questions like this? How do you tell your little sister you think she's hot?

"Sis, you're beautiful," I said. "And if I walked into a room, looking around to see who the hot women are, yeah, you'd get my attention. Why are you asking me this?"

"Because I want to know," she said. "There has to be something about me that made him lose interest in me."

"Warren?"

"Yeah," she said, folding her arms and looking wounded.

"Lizzie, I can't imagine you doing anything that could have made him lose interest in you," I said, turning my body to face her. "He's the problem, not you. He made some terrible choices. It's nothing you did. In fact, I wouldn't even say he lost interest in you. Based on the fact that he followed you home tonight, I'd say he's still interested."

"That's only because my attorney is starting to turn the screws on him," she said. "Warren has a pretty good survival instinct, if nothing else."

"I stand by my comment that it's not your fault he made some bad choices," I said. "After all, how could he not think you're hot if he took even one good look at you?"

I was taking a good look at the moment; the hem of her shorts was drawn up near her crotch, the skin of her legs begging to be touched. Her blouse was unbuttoned down to the point where I could see enough of her cleavage to know she wasn't wearing a bra. With each breath she took, Lizzie's tits pressed seductively against the thin cloth.

"You're not taking me seriously," she said.

"What do you mean I'm not taking you seriously?"

Lizzie crawled toward me and threw her leg across me, straddling me.

"Look at me," she said, taking my face in her hands. "Several times you've said something about what I was wearing and I've noticed you looking at me, and it's been more than just looking at me as your sister."

"This is silly," I said. I put my hands on her waist and pushed her off of my lap. She spilled onto the couch with a look of disbelief on her face and glared at me as I stood up. "When we were teenagers, I used to look at you and Kath all the time when you were wearing swimsuits or prancing around the house in your underwear. It had more to do with raging hormones than anything else."

I walked away from the couch headed to the bedroom.

"And now?"

I stopped and turned to look at her.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Is it still the raging hormones, or something else?" Lizzie leaned forward.

I turned away from her and walked into the bedroom.

"Why won't you answer me?" she asked, following me.

"Because," I said, flipping on my bedside lamp. "I don't want to talk about how attractive or pretty or hot you are."

I turned around toward her as she walked up behind me. I thought she was going to hug me. As I held out my arms to hug her, she planted a foot behind mine, grabbed my arm and pushed, compromising my balance and sending me spilling onto the bed. I fell onto the bed and looked up in surprise. When we were kids, we'd played around wrestling in the backyard, and though she'd gotten to the point of starting well, Lizzie had always come out on the short end of things. This marked the first time she'd ever taken me down.

I didn't try to get up, but pushed myself back on the bed as she crawled onto it. As my feet cleared the edge, she moved on top of me, straddling me again and leaning forward, catching my wrists in her arms and pinning me. Or so I was willing to let her think for a minute or two.

"This is not silly," she said. "Not to me, anyway. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to find out your husband is fucking another woman when he won't touch you and hasn't in months?"

"Never having had a husband," I said, "I can honestly say I have no idea how that feels."

Despite the fact it was a painful subject for her, Lizzie found the humor in my response and glared at me through her smirk as she squeezed me with her thighs and pressed down on my arms. My eyes darted down to glance at her breasts. Lizzie's tits swayed freely beneath the cloth of her blouse, her nipples hard buds of flesh.

"You know what I mean," she said. "See? That's exactly what I'm talking about! You were looking down my shirt!"

Lizzie released her hold on my arms, sat up and pushed her hair back out of her face. Her nipples raised points of prominence that were impossible to ignore.

"It's hard to ignore when you lean forward like that," I said. "I don't know why Warren started neglecting you. Clearly he was being a fool."

"What about you?" she asked.

"What about me? I didn't know I was neglecting you," I replied.

"Not that," she said, bring her hands down to catch mine. She pressed her fingers in between mine, lacing our hands together as she leaned over me again. "What do you think about me?"

The expression on her face was a mix of woman seeking validation and child seeking approval. She was seated with her hips centered on mine, and I was conscious of my cock slowly hardening, pressing upward toward her.

"For starters," I said, "you're crazy if you think you actually have me pinned."

"I don't see you doing anything about it," she replied, sticking her tongue out at me.

I actually had her where I wanted her. I pulled on her right arm and pushed her left up and away from me as I rolled to my left. Lizzie fell to the bed with a squeal as I rolled on top of her, pinning her hands against the bed. We maneuvered our bodies against one another; I was intent on pinning her to the bed and she struggled beneath me, intent on regaining some level of control. I moved my knees from under her, effectively dumping her on the bed, and I leaned forward, leveraging myself over her. Lizzie lay there with her legs spread, her shorts taught against her crotch. She wrapped her legs around me and locked her ankles, presumably to keep me from escaping. I had no intention of going anywhere.

"That was mean," she said, pushing and pulling with her hands, trying to gain some advantage.

"Did you really think you could pin me?" I asked. I looked down at her; her blouse was now bunched up above her waist, her belly exposed and one of her shoulders bare.

"I was hoping," she said. "I know you're not going to walk away from me this time." She squeezed me between her thighs and thrust herself up at me as much as she could.

"I'm not trying to," I said. "But as long as you keep your legs wrapped around me like this, you're going to stay in the position you're in right now."

Lizzie lay there, looking at me. I slowly leaned over her and pulled her arms up over her head. Too late, she realized what I was doing and tried to resist, but I managed to capture the fingers of both her hands with one of mine, and suddenly, I had her pinned and at a disadvantage.

I wanted to lay down beside her and talk this through, but right now, I had control of the situation, or at least thought I did, and in order to keep it, I had to stay on top of her.

"So you want to know what I think about you in terms of whether or not you're attractive?" I asked.

"It's hard to explain," she said. "But it's more than that. I know you love me. And you told me earlier you think I'm beautiful, but I wonder how much of that's just because I'm your sister and how much is because you really think of me as attractive. I don't know why it matters to me, but it does."

I brought my free hand to her face, brushed her hair away and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. As my face got closer to hers, she turned her head toward me, a nervous, but expectant look on her face. I kissed her softly, brushing my lips against hers. As I started to pull back from the contact, Lizzie pressed upward, making brief contact again. Then, maybe sensing my reluctance, she laid her head back on the pillow. I slid my hand under her head and kissed her again, softly, but this time, more deliberate.

Our mouths melted together. Her lower lip slipped between my lips, and we lingered together like this for several seconds. The tension remaining in Lizzie's arms disappeared, and I let go of her hands as I hovered over her. Lizzie lay there submissively, looking up at me, her arms still stretched up over her head. Her nipples strained against the thin fabric as her chest heaved with her hard breathing. My cock throbbed with desire as I looked down at my sister.

I pulled my hand from under her head, and as my fingers brushed against her face, she turned her head to the side and kissed my hand. My fingers trailed down her neck, past her collar bone. I wanted to bring my hand down between her breasts, but I didn't. Instead, my hand trailed down the outside of her chest, down along her ribcage. Lizzie pushed herself toward my hand, offering her breast to my touch.