Charlie and Mindy Bk. 03 Ch. 05byCarlusMagnus©
This is the fifth chapter of seven in Book 3 of Charlie and Mindy, which is a story of forbidden love between a brother and a sister.
This book stands on its own, but it refers to events that took place in Books 1 and 2. You may therefore want to read Book 1 and Book 2 before reading this book.
I value your comments and your feedback, and, circumstances permitting, I will respond to either—usually within a week.
Friday, January 1, 1988–Wednesday, January 13, 1988
Mom and Dad were home for all of the long New Year's weekend, so my little sister Mindy and I had to defer our first fuck of 1988 until the morning of Monday, January 4. I tried to tease her about the delay, but when I tried, she smiled slyly and called me "Scullion". After the second time, I looked the word up. I tried once or twice more, but she responded the same way—and once I knew that a scullion is "a servant assigned the most menial kitchen tasks," it wore out pretty quickly. She definitely won that round.
On Saturday, January 9, the mailman delivered two real treats. My birthday being the very next day, I thought of both of them as birthday presents. The first of those treats was our grades. Mindy and I had both gotten all A's for the fall semester. I'd never done anything like that before, and I was ecstatic. (So ecstatic, in fact, that Mindy's "I told you so" look didn't faze me a bit.) Mom and Dad were so pleased that they took us out to a fancy restaurant that night for dinner to celebrate.
The second treat was the 1988 catalog from the National Outdoor Leadership School. In those days, the school routinely mailed each year's catalog to all of its graduates. Nowadays, the school encourages former students to view the catalog on-line, though it will mail you a copy upon request.
That catalog has always been (and still is) full of wonderful photography of the wonderful places where the school conducts its courses. And foremost among those places is the Wind River Range, where Mindy and I had fallen in love with each other. I spent the afternoon with my little sister, poring over that year's collection of wilderness photos—not to mention the course descriptions.
The pictures in the NOLS catalog were (and are) mostly taken by actual students in the field on their courses. The front of the '88 catalog showed a picture of several students cooking on a gravel beach—probably somewhere on the coast of Alaska. In the background, some other students are tended to kayaks drawn up on the beach. Photos inside showed students hiking, skiing, camping, and rock-climbing, as well as traveling on glaciers, crossing rushing mountain streams, building igloos, and doing Tyrolean traverses. And always, in the background, there is stunning wilderness scenery: mountains, meadows, cliffs, snowfields, glaciers, veldt.
On the back of the catalog was a quarter-page photo that showed a granite ridge in the distance—and a grassy meadow, liberally dotted with purple mountain asters, in the foreground. It was heartbreakingly familiar. I had never been in that particular location, but I knew instantly that the picture came from the Wind River Mountains. I didn't need to read the caption—which confirmed what I'd known at first sight.
We couldn't contain ourselves at dinner. We hadn't yet fulfilled our part of the bargain entirely, but we certainly thought we'd made a big step in the right direction. So we asked if Mindy could submit her application for a course the coming summer. Mom and Dad were so pleased with our grades that they just looked at each other, smiled, and nodded in unison.
Dad added, "The deal's still in place. Neither of you has completed your obligations yet, but both of you have certainly shown good faith. Go ahead and apply."
Mindy whooped with joy, jumped up from her seat at the table and made a tour of the table, squeezing each of the three of us in turn—Mom first, then Dad, and then me. (Mom and Dad were both watching, so I had to remember not to slip in a feel or go for a deep kiss.) Then she remembered that we were in a fancy restaurant. People were looking at us. Her face went red as the rest of us laughed at her embarrassment. But she couldn't stop grinning for the rest of the evening.
The following day was my twentieth birthday. There were some small birthday presents—one from each of the three other family members—waiting for me on the dining room table when I got up. They were nothing spectacular—our family had never been very extravagant about birthdays, though we always marked them.
Mindy and I spent most of that morning in the living room with the NOLS catalog, as she decided which course she wanted to take. In the end, she chose the one she'd thought at the very beginning she'd want—the Wind River Wilderness Course. It was the one I'd taken in 1985, and the one I'd always thought she'd take.
Then she had to decide on her first, second, and third choices from among the thirteen offerings of that particular course. She settled, at last, on one that ran from June 30 to July 30 as her first choice, one from June 27 to July 27 second, and June 20 to July 20 third.
In a moment of privacy when Mom and Dad were both in other parts of the house, she snuggled up against me, kissed me thoroughly (while rubbing her tits and her snatch against me), and whispered that my "real" birthday present would be a day late because we'd need to get naked in order for her to deliver it properly.
Eyes glinting, she added that my birthday present was going to include a reward for getting all A's. Naturally, I had an instant boner. Then we heard Mom coming toward the room; fortunately, she was far enough away for us to separate and my hard-on to wilt before she got there. Mindy wiped the smirk off of her face at the last possible second before Mom stepped into the room.
Mindy's NOLS application, together with a $150 check—bearing Dad's signature—for the application fee, went out with the next day's mail.
That next day, Monday, January 11, Dad left town for a business trip to Washington, DC. He was involved in some legal matter involving courts in several South American nations, and he needed to spend a couple of weeks conferring with Big Wigs and Important People in the State Department. He would be back home for the last week of January, but Mindy and I would be back in school a week earlier—so we wouldn't see him again during our break. Knowing that he would be leaving before we were up that morning, we said good-bye to him on Sunday evening.
He would go to Chile for a few weeks at the beginning of February, and from there to Bolivia, Peru, and Colombia. He anticipated that his business would be concluded in early March. Mom was going to join him then in Colombia, and the two of them would spend two or three weeks together seeing South America. They planned to be home for our spring break, in early April.
Mom took him to Stapleton Airport, in Denver, early that morning—around 5:30; then she went directly to work from there. They'd timed it so that she would get to work at almost exactly the time she would've otherwise.
Mindy slipped into my bed at about 7:00 am. I woke on my left side to find my little sister naked, backed up against me (and my morning wood—which projected, as usual, through the fly of the boxers I wore to bed at home). She'd brought my right arm around her and placed my right hand on her left boob. It could've been better—but only if she'd spent the whole night naked in my arms.
Groggily, I nibbled on her neck a bit, while kneading her tit. She moaned and wiggled her ass against my boner. Then she clenched her ass-cheeks around it—making it throb with happiness.
"Go take your morning piss," she said, "and think about how we're going to celebrate your birthday. Hurry back." I could hear the evil grin in her voice.
Still half asleep, but feeling pretty randy anyway, I climbed out of bed, clumsily shed my shorts and tee shirt, stumbled into the bathroom, and obeyed orders. My cock shrank, as always, so that I could piss. I paid particular attention to the instruction she'd given me about hurrying back. But we hadn't fucked since the preceding Friday, and by the time I got back to my room my cock had stiffened again and led the way.
I found her curled up under the covers, still lying on her left side and facing the door—watching for me—when I reentered the room. She was still a bit sleepy herself; her hair was tousled, and her eyelids drooped a bit. But the smile she gave me was real, and so was the look of frank desire that she gave my rod.
Mom and Dad, too, turned the heat down at night—though they had a thermostat that handled it automatically. Left to itself, that thermostat would've kept the house chilly until just before they were to get home for work. Mindy had turned it up before she'd crawled into my bed, but the house was still chilly.
I slipped into the welcome warmth of the bed facing my naked little sister, and took her even more welcome warmth into my arms. Still a bit dazed, I pulled her gently against me and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around me and—a bit fuzzily herself—returned the kiss. The smell of her own warm bed—quintessentially feminine—lingered on her skin and mingled with the smell of mine. My cock throbbed and pulsed where it had come to rest between our bodies. At least somebody was awake.
She broke the kiss, and her right hand came up, out from under the covers, to stroke my cheek; I felt the stubble of my beard rasp against her.
"I love you so, Big Brother," she said, pushing me over onto my back and rolling on top of me. My prong took the opportunity to slide between her thighs and stroke along her furrow as she straddled me.
"I love you back so, Little Sister," I mumbled—I was having a good bit of trouble waking up that morning. Dimly, I understood that she was going to do something about that—something I'd enjoy very much.
"I've come to deliver your birthday present—the real one," she said. "But I'm afraid it may not be what you thought it would be."
"Hunh?" My hands caressed the soft curves of her hips and thighs. She'd placed her hands to either side of my chest, and, taking the weight of her upper body on her arms, she'd raised her head to look down into my eyes. Once again, I marveled at their deep blueness.
"My period started yesterday, so we can't fuck."
"Well, I'm glad it started, I guess," I said. Babies were definitely not in our plans for the immediate future.
"Me, too," she said. "But having it on your birthday's a real bummer."
"I think we'll survive," I said.
"But it means I can't give you what you'd like most for your birthday," she went on. "So I've thought of something else."
She lowered her head so that her lips reached under my chin and connected with my neck. Slowly she rose to her hands and knees and backed up, nibbling and kissing her way downward from my neck, passing down the middle of my chest and over my stomach. The bed covers moved with her, but we were generating enough heat of our own that I barely noticed the chill in the room. Her tongue swirled around in my bellybutton, and she raised her head and looked up at me.
My boner pressed against her chest, right between her lovely little titties. Rising a bit, she took it into her right hand and stroked it several times. She smiled up at me and said, "Just lie here, Lover. I want to fuck you with my mouth for a while, and then, when you're almost ready to come, I'm going to sit on you and fuck you with my ass."
My cock jumped and pulsed at that, and she chuckled.
"Somebody's happy," she said. "And he makes me happy when he does that."
Before I could respond, she lowered her head and guided my glans into her mouth. The heat and moisture of her softly clasping lips and the gentle action of her swirling tongue were breathtaking. It seemed as though the rest of my body surrendered so that every bit of vitality I possessed could flow into my cock—causing it to grow and harden even more.
Slowly, she took my full length into her loving mouth. I throbbed and pulsed inside her and heard her moan in response as her lips reached the very root of my shaft. From somewhere, my hips found the strength they needed to buck involuntarily in answer to the inexpressible sensations she brought me.
I heard her choke a little as my hips drove me a bit too deep into her throat, but that happened only once, at the very first, and it didn't keep her from carrying out her promise to fuck me with her mouth for a while. Her head bobbed up and down, in perfect opposition to the motions of my hips. My cock slid in and out, in and out, and her head continued, up and down, up and down.My hands reached down, took her head between them, kept time with her motion, guiding her, seeking my release.
Sensing the storm gathering within me, she slowed, changed her rhythm, and began moving her head in synchrony with me—rising as I rose, descending as I descended. Still I came closer and closer. Not being ready to let me come, she removed her mouth and brought it to the inside of my left thigh. Baring her teeth, she nipped me slightly. The slight pain and the surprise fended off the crisis.
"Not yet, Buster," she said. I looked down and saw her smiling at me past my pulsing cock from the valley between my thighs. She nibbled a bit on my balls, and, when my cock had stopped surging, she took it again into her mouth. Slowly, gently, she again brought me almost to the brink.
When she had me almost there, she removed her mouth again. Still on her hands and knees above me, she brought her body up against mine. Her right hand again caressed my cheek as her lips sought mine for a deep, long, loving kiss.
When she broke that kiss, she retreated a few inches—just far enough that we could focus our eyes on each other.
"I'm so glad I'm in love with you," she whispered to me. "And now I'm going to finish you off the way I promised—with my tight little tushy."
My cock liked that idea, surged in agreement. But before I could say anything, she threw the covers all the way back, raised herself off of me, and reached down over the side of the bed to my right to pick up the towel and the KY jelly she'd hidden there before she'd gotten into bed with me. She made me raise my ass up off of the bed so that she could put the towel under me, saying, "Just in case I leak—from either hole."
Once she had me arranged on the towel to her satisfaction, she applied some KY to my cock. The jelly was cold, as always, and it brought me a little further back from the precipice her mouth had brought me dangerously close to.
Facing me, she straddled me again, placing her crotch right above my straining cock, and applied some of the KY to herself. She bent over and kissed me again, lovingly, lingeringly. While we kissed, my hands stroked up along her sides, starting at her hips, moved up to her armpits, reached finally inward to cup her little tits and tweak her nipples a bit.
She moaned into my mouth.
She rose to the vertical on her knees and rested her left hand on her own left leg. My eyes rested on her little boobs—the perfect little boobs I adored so much—as she reached down between her thighs with her right hand. She found my cock, now slippery with lubricant, grasped it firmly, and guided my glans to her asshole as she lowered her body. My own hands found the gentle swell of her hips and rested there.
As usual, her body resisted at first—involuntarily, I suppose. But she brought more of her weight to bear, and, suddenly, the head of my cock popped into her. She brought her right hand up from between her thighs to rest on her right leg, and she arrested her downward motion to let her aperture adjust to the invasion. We both moaned at the feelings her tight muscular ring brought us. Her eyes, I could see, were now closed, but there was a faint smile on her lips.
I shifted my glance downward from her face, traveling toward where our bodies were now joined. My eyes passed slowly over her body, enjoying the view. They encountered first the little tits I so much loved to look at and touch. Next came her tiny, flat waist, whose narrowness accentuated the roundedness of her boobs and the curvature of her hips. Then, I saw the little brown, downward-pointing triangle of her fur and followed its direction on to her mound. Two or three inches of white string dangled from the lower end of her cleft—string belonging to the tampax that occupied my cock's favorite position. There below her furrow, I could see where my cock entered her body, its head embedded in her ass.
My cock wanted to move—wanted to feel the clasping band of her sphincter slide up and down its length. But, even though we had butt-fucked a number of times before and I knew she enjoyed it, I still had a residue of fear that I would cause her pain—possibly even injure her—if I moved too quickly or too forcefully before she was ready. So I stroked her hips and her thighs and I brought my eyes back up to her face as I waited for her.
After fifteen or twenty seconds, she opened her eyes. Her hands came up to her chest, where they cupped her tits and kneaded them. She saw that I was looking at her, and the faint smile deepened. I felt myself sinking into the deep blue pools of her eyes.
"You always feel so big right after we put you in my ass," she whispered. "But I love to feel you inside me—anywhere."
She lowered her body, sliding my cock deep into her bowels, until I could feel her snatch against my pubic bone and her ass-cheeks against my thighs. She alternately contracted and relaxed the muscles that gripped me.
"Oh, God! That feels so good!" I breathed. Her anal ring was now wrapped tightly around the base of my cock. She rested there a while, looking deeply into my eyes, smiling broadly, holding my throbbing cock deep within her, now squeezing it, now relaxing.
"This," she pointed out, her smiling deepening ever more, "is what happens to my lovers who get all A's."
"If only I'd known," I managed to mumble, "I'd have been getting all A's ever since I was 5."
She bent down and kissed me; it was just a quick peck. "You weren't my lover then—so it wouldn't have done you any good."
With what remained of my concentration, I replied. "I'm glad to know that. It means I didn't waste any opportunities."
My cock took control. My hips, which had decided to take its orders rather then mine, bucked it even more deeply into her, and her hips replied. So did her sphincter—which squeezed me some more.
I could think only of the way her body moved up and down, up and down, driving my slippery shaft in and out, in and out—her taut ring sliding along my length, stroking me, squeezing me, drawing me closer and closer to zenith.
Apocalypse came upon me, and my semen gushed, burning, through the length of my cock and into her body. Again, again, again. My body strained to bury every bit of my pulsing, surging cock deep inside of her, and she responded by driving herself down on me with all of her weight in answer to my desperate need. She clamped her sphincter around me, intensifying my spasms almost beyond bearing. Vaguely, I heard her cooing to me, "Come for me, Birthday Boy! Fill my ass with your cum! I love you so much! I want your cum up my ass so much!"
And then it was over, and I lay there on the bed under her, drained and nearly unconscious. Dimly, I felt her little hands, stroking my sides and my belly, gently massaging my relaxed flesh. Her sphincter continued to contract and relax, contract and relax, around my still-stiff shaft, holding it prisoner—but not, by any stretch of the imagination, against its will. I felt it responding, though weakly, to those powerful compressions.