(Note: The characters and the relationship between them is purely a work of fiction, though the broken air conditioner was a reality once. It was the inspiration for this story.)
The damn air conditioner was broken... again. For two years it had been broken, then fixed barely six months ago. But when you have air -sweet, wonderful, cool air- every single day, you forget about the hard times. Especially when you're so busy you wake up at 6 a.m., go to bed at or around midnight, and are asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow. You don't even think about the air. It's just there. Then one day the air handler -whatever the hell that is- breaks, and off goes the air. Middle of summer in Florida, in a new house where the trees have been cleared so there's not even shade from that.
It was absolutely miserable.
After coming home from work, Chrissy had stood in the shower for an hour, the spray hard, the water as cold as she could bear it. She'd had her relaxation music playing loud, her cat curled on the bathroom rug napping, and her new bottle of Body Wash -a gift from her cousin when she had visited France. It smelled like her aunts Sangria, and made her feel smooth as a seal.
Now, nearly four hours later, Chrissy had forgotten how pleasant the shower had been, and was stewing in both annoyance and sweat. In defense she had said her good nights to her parents, and asked them not to disturb her. Then she stripped. It was too damn hot to be wearing clothing. She had been wearing her bathingsuit after she got out of the shower, cause it was the least bit of decent clothing she had. But now that the house was quiet, and her parents were in bed, she figured she might as well.
Her sigh of pleasure filled the space as her damp bikini flew across the room. Her black cat lifted its head, glanced in the direction of the brightly colored clothes, and then went back to its paws. It watched Chrissy closely.
Chrissy turned her fan on High, adjusted the aim to hit the middle of her bed, and wrestled the tall thing closer. Then she looked at her cat -sprawled in the middle, half under, half sticking out of the comforter, and smiled. She knew that look.
"Does kitty want to play?" she asked the cat. In response, the feline stretched out, back arching, tail curling, paws flexing, and looked up at her master with huge, luminous yellow eyes. Her black coat was as sleek as polished ebony. Then her tail began to lash in playful anticipation. Chrissy grinned and attacked.
They played for several minutes, with Chrissy perched on the edge of the bed, her butt sticking in the air, the fan blowing cool on her exposed privates. It felt very good. Eventually though she grew tired and, with a last long, slow stroke from the cats head to its tail, Chrissy began to fix her bed. God she was tired. She was always so tired. So tired now she had no time to draw anymore. No time to watch her favorite movies once in a while. No time for anything.
Not even sex.
She sighed heavily and bent to adjust the sheet. It was just a tad too big for the mattress, so it slipped off the corners little by little throughout the night. But in the morning she had no time to fix it, so she waited until bedtime. Leaning far over the mattress, one hand braced on the headboard, she tugged and stuffed and smoothed out the wrinkles on one end, then shifted and worked on the other end.
It was while she was bent over, completely exposed, that her bedroom door opened. She froze, and stared down at one of the patterned flowers on the sheet in dread. She couldn't seem to move.
Someone was watching her. She closed her eyes and prayed that it was her mother -please let it be my mother and not my step-father!- but the person said nothing, so, taking a deep breath, Chrissy rose to a standing position, and slowly turned around. She gasped when she saw her step-brother standing there, his eyes bulging in shock or surprise, perhaps even horror, his hand clutching the doorknob. His gaze was riveted to her crotch, and he stood utterly still.
Dear GOD, thought Sebastian. What an ass! He'd always known she had a huge ass -it was hard to miss! As children he'd teased her by calling her shaquitta booty when she hit puberty and everything just started to grow. But he'd never seen it bare -she was always a very private kid, careful and thoughtful. There had never been any embarrassing shower incidents, no dares, no accidental bathing suit losage. Nothing that had revealed any part of her body to him. Not that he had cared. On the contrary. He never thought about it. Sure, he'd admired her figure as it filled out into that of a very voluptuous woman, even cracked jokes with some of his buddies and defended her too, but that was it. He'd gone off to college, had had girlfriend after girlfriend, and had been home only for holidays. He and Chrissy never saw one another. Then he graduated -Cum Laude- and moved into a small duplex a few blocks away from his parents house. He visited them often, but Chrissy was never home. According to their parents, she worked from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m., got home, did a couple hours of her Home School course in art, and then went to bed. She rarely went out with friends, and had no boyfriends that any of them knew of. Sebastian admired her for it -God knew he understood having to prove oneself. But damn, she had no life. And damn, had she grown up.
Sebastian swallowed and flexed his hand on the now warm doorknob. He couldn't take his eyes off her pubic hair. It was thick and dark -far darker than he would have suspected for a strawberry blonde. And curly. Lord it looked curly. His palms began to sweat. He bet those dark little curls would just wrap around his fingers and hold him against the warmth. Then Chrissy cleared her throat; but instead of snapping Sebastian out of his daze, it drew his attention to her breasts.
He was shocked anew.
Her breasts were very large. A D cup, possibly verging on double D's. Again, it's not like he had missed them -they were sort of like her ass, very hard to miss. But he'd never thought about them. The thing that shocked him, however, was the fact that her nipple and areola were situated high up on the mound. Because of the weight of them, most women with large breasts tended to have down-pointing centers. It was natural. But hers were right up there. Proud and small and a soft blushing rose color.
He was shocked by a sudden wave of desire.
Desire. He swallowed again and thought, I'm lusting after my sister. What the hell?!
But he still couldn't look away. And now he could feel a definite tightening in his groin. Oh great, he thought in disgust, his eyes hungrily racing over her nude form. Now I'll get a hard on and my sister can see it. Oh joy! One more humiliating moment I can add to my book.
She's not your sister, a voice in the back of his mind said.
He blinked several times, watching her breasts shift with the movement. And then he finally managed to tear his gaze away from her lush, glistening form, and looked up at her. Her eyes were wide and wary, and suddenly very blue. He swallowed a third time, hard. His desire kicked up a knotch.
Her hair hung in almost-dry waves down her back. Tendrils stuck damply to her shoulders, wisps of bright blonde hair like a soft crown around her head. She slowly pulled a sheet off her bed and brought it in front of her, concealing herself, but not enough. Sebastian blinked again, and felt an acute sense of loss.
God she was beautiful. How come he'd never realized how beautiful she was. Desire dug it's claws in and caused him to grit his teeth. He let go of the doorknob and flexed his hand. His jeans were too tight now, and his shirt was already sodden and clung to his upper body like a wet suit. The air in the small confinement was thick. Soft flutey music floated through the room. The fan was a distant humming in the background. And Chrissy still watched him closely. He shut the door quietly, then took a step forward, but stopped suddenly because he had completely forgotten what he had come here for, let alone why he had come to his sister's room.
A premonition? Oh please. He didn't believe in that crap. Besides, the reason came back to him. He had seen her light on and wanted to say hello. That was all. Nothing lewd or unsavory. Certainly not in the hopes of catching her naked.
But now he had. And lord help him, he wanted to see her again.
His heartrate increased, and he took another step forward. Still Chrissy said nothing. He kept his gaze steady on hers, boring into her blue depths intensely. He saw her shudder, and noticed her fingers tightening on the sheet that barely concealed her voluptuous body. He took another step forward. She swallowed and glanced to her left, towards the bathroom, and refuge.
No one had ever looked at her that way, Chrissy thought. Not anyone. None of the guys she'd been out with or slept with had stared at her so hotly or studied her so closely. And certainly not strangers. No one. And no one had made her hot like this.
His unblinking stare had aroused her almost instantly. It was very odd, because she had never thought of her step-brother that way. She'd always noticed how attractive he was -hard, lean body, long limbs, dark hair, dark eyes. But she'd always been more of a golden-surfer boy girl. Don't ask her why.
Suddenly though, he looked absolutely delish.
He stalked closer to her -'stalk' was the only word she could think of for the way he drew nearer. She squeezed the sheet between her breasts, trying to regulate her breathing. The material had quickly become saturated with sweat, and so had molded itself to her body. She watched as Sebastian's eyes sharpened and a noticeable bulge appeared in his pants. She struggled not to lower her gaze, not to look at it. Oh how she struggled. Don't look, she chanted inside her head as her heart sped up faster and faster and her body grew hot under his steady gaze. Don't look don't look. But it was of no use. Her eyes darted down to the front of his jeans and admired the size of the bulge there. Then they lifted back up to her siblings. Sebastian's gaze was smoldering, his eyes black, fathomless pools of desire. A wave of arousal washed over her, and she shivered.
They were almost touching now. Two more steps would bring them flush up against each other. Sebastian took one, and stopped. He stared down at her -though their height was almost equal, her being tall for a woman and he being of average size. Her forehead came up to his nose, and she stared at his mouth. It seemed safer than to look in his eyes. Those mesmerizing, black eyes. But the more she studied his mouth, the more she wondered what he tasted like. How would his lips feel? How would his breath smell as he exhaled at contact. How would he slant his head as his mouth grazed hers. And then, once they'd made contact and gotten used to each other, how would his tongue feel and his saliva taste. The thoughts flitted tantalizingly through her mind, and caused gooseflesh to rise all over her body. Her nipples tingled. She licked her lips -apprehensively, expectantly. Sebastian made a low, rumbling noise, and it startled her so that she mistakenly looked up and met his black gaze.
Her breath caught in her lungs, her heart froze for an instant, and her stomach quivered. His gaze was scorching. His desire was potent. His intent was apparent. She gasped in realization an instant before his mouth swooped down on hers. His hands came up and gripped her shoulders, and he pulled her to him. Her hands were sandwhiched between their bodies -the soft suppleness of her breasts, the hard muscled strength of his. She felt his heart thumping fast and hard against her fist, and was filled with a little triumphant glow.
In moments the kiss deepened, and Sebastian ran a hand up the back of her neck and into her soft, luxurious hair. He cupped her head and held her firmer against him. She trembled. Her trembles drove him wild. His penis demanded release from the tight confinement of his pants. His arousal was almost painful. His fingers flexed, his nails biting into her scalp, and she moaned. He took advantage and ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth. She gasped and moaned again, but this one was a confused, distressing sound, and Sebastian reigned his desire in and took his mouth away.
Her eyes were closed tightly -she daren't look him in his. Her brow was furrowed, her breathing ragged, her body shakey and needy. She lowered her head and leaned against him, her forehead resting on his chin, and took several deep breaths. Sebastian understood her confusion and massaged her scalp gently. He still held her to him -he couldn't seem to let her go. But he loosened the hold so it wasn't so imprisoning. He tried to regulate his own breathing and gave her a minute to gather her thoughts and form her refusals. The thought of her backing up and asking him to leave was distressing -he was so aroused now it was almost unbearable. If she tried to back out, he didn't know what he'd do.
Finally she said, "Sebastian." And it was a whisper. A pleading whisper. His heart sang with joy. His loins screamed in demand. His breath hitched a moment and his blood sang out in triumph. He would have her, and have her now.
He put a finger beneath her chin and slowly lifted her face to his. Her eyes were shy and uncertain, but her gaze was direct. She wanted him, badly.
Sebastian smiled and kissed first one eye, then the other, and bent his head to brush his lips teasingly over hers. He felt her fist move in it's restriction, and gently pushed her back a step, not taking his mouth away from hers. Then he reached up between their bodies and took the sheet in a firm grasp and tugged it from her numb fingers. She didn't really notice. Not with the way his tongue was running the seal of the mouth, prodding for entry. Cool air rushed over her suddenly, and she shivered. And then she was warm again, and her nipples were tingly.
Sebastian's body was firm but not hard. It had some suppleness to it, and she liked that better than rock-hard muscle. She hummed in approval as his tongue slipped between her lips and into her mouth. Her arms went around him, and pulled him closer. His hands tangled in her hair and held her captive while his mouth ravished hers. If she hadn't been horny a few minutes ago, she certainly was now.
She pushed against her step-brothers chest until he released her. Then she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and yanked it upward. He chuckled and helped her get him out of it. When he was shirtless she pressed her front to his front and rubbed her breasts against his small patch of chest hair. He groaned and slid his hands caressingly down her sides, then up again, and nibbled on her lips. She ran her hands up his back, clutching his shoulders, and leaned into him. After several minutes of lip teasing, their mouths locked in a passionate, mindless kiss.
They kissed for a time, until kissing simply wasn't enough.
Sebastian pushed her back a step, and she plopped down heavily onto her bed. Then she sat, mesmerized, as he delt with his pants. First the buckle went, then the button popped open. And finally, with careful fingers, he lowered the zipper down over his erection. He grimaced, and then sighed in immense relief when the pressure that had been holding him in was released. He watched Chrissy stare at his bulge, waiting, and smiled. He pushed his pants down his legs and stepped out of them, and then Sebastian removed his boxer briefs. Chrissy gasped softly, and her mouth fell open. Her eyes grew very large, and her center grew very wet. She shivered with longing, but Sebastian mistook her reaction for fear. He knelt in front of her, pushed her knees apart and scooted between them. Then he lifted her face, craddled it in his hands, and said soothingly, "It's alright." She nodded, drowning in the tenderness of his gaze, and glanced once more at his erect penis.
"Shhh," he said again, and took her mouth. Immediately her lips parted and his tongue swept inside, delving deep, deep. She wiggled in her seat, feeling her juices flowing to her opening and readying her for penetration. She whimpered and slid her arms around his back, pushing him closer to her. He made a sound of agreement, and gripped her hips and pulled her to the very edge of the mattress. Then he reached between her thighs and touched her. She gasped, a sound which was lost inside Sebastian's mouth, and tightened her grip on his buttocks. He groaned in pleasure, and used his fingers to part her slick folds and open her to him. Then he dipped one finger inside her, marveling at how easily it slid in, then out. Chrissy shuddered and moved her hips for more. He changed the angle of the kiss, put his hands on her knees, and pushed her legs apart wider. Then he scooted closer, until the tip of his penis brushed her entrance.
Chrissy moaned in delight, and scooted closer. The tip of his penis penetrated her, and she pulled back, releasing Sebastian's mouth, and looked up at him and said, "Sebastian."
"Chrissy," he whispered back, then pushed her so she lay flat on the bed, her legs spread, him between them. And, watching her, he pushed himself inside her.
It was slow going, as Chrissy hadn't had sex in about two years, and it took a moment for her flesh to accomodate his size. But soon he was inside her as far as he could go, stretching her to the max, and he bent over her and kissed away the furrows of discomfort that marred her brow.
God he felt good, she thought, and tilted her head up to access his mouth. She squeezed her vaginal muscles demandingly, and Sebastian groaned in torment. His tongue slid over hers, and rubbed and teased and delved deeply. Her hands massaged his ass, and she pushed him into her. He made an inarticulate noise, but remained still. She squeezed until her nails bit into his flesh. He simply growled in approval. Finally, she squeezed him again, and this time he pulled his mouth away from hers and said, in a strained, laughing voice, "Okay okay." Then he began to move within her, pulling out, then pushing back in. She closed her eyes and sighed in delight. His movements were slow and rhythmic, and he pulled out almost all the way before pushing back in as far as he could go. His hands molded themselves to her breasts, and he watched her face as he loved her. He played with her nipples, circling his thumbs around and around and around them, then he tweaked them between his index and middle fingers, and rolled them slowly. She licked her lips and moved her hips, pushing against him as he pushed into her. Her hands released his ass and gripped his hips instead, and she pulled him as he pushed.
She wanted him deeper. God, she wanted him deeper dammit!
He took one hand away from her breasts and found her clitoris. He pressed down on the button and she gasped. Then he started rolling her clitoris in the same slow manner he rolled her nipple. Her chest began to heave, and her hips moved against him more demandingly. He smiled at her obvious torture -she probably wanted it fast and hard. A few more minutes, he promised himself, then he'd give them both a ride to remember.
He leaned forward, his finger still working her clit slowly, and took her left nipple into his mouth as his hand massaged her right breast. She released his hips immediately and gripped his head, where she threaded her fingers through his luxurious black hair and held him to her breast. He suckled and licked her and nibbled and bit until she was writhing beneath him, almost delirious, whispering his name over and over in a desperate chant. His breathing was ragged and his rythme was beginning to stumble. Her teeth chewed her lips in an effort to muffle her moans. His desire was overwhelming, and he could no longer stand it another instant. He had to have completion. So he raised his head from her breasts -to which she moaned in refusal and opened her eyes to look at him accusingly- and he pulled out of her, gripped both of her hips, and rammed himself back in her. Her eyes popped wide, her mouth fell open and her body convulsed. A small startled groan fell from her swollen lips. He did it again, harder, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head and closed, then he really began to fuck her. His face was set in lines of immense concentration, and hers was rapturous.