In Sara's Pants

I watched her head drop a little again, her movements becoming more involuntary, a little sway in her hips.

I curled my fingers and began lightly scratch my nails along the fabric of those soft silk panties, petting her front to back right over the mound of her puss, drawing my nails back along the fabric, itching her. Repeating the motion, slow, long strokes, over and over.

With each stroke down between her legs I was catching her clit and pressing there firmly each time. She kept watching the TV, but when my fingers were busy circling around her clit I could feel her pressing back into my hand, feel the undulation of her hips and could see the rise and fall of her hips over my hand. I could scarcely believe the pressure I felt, of Sara rubbing her body into my hand, grinding herself into my fingers, circling her clit around my fingers. For my part I pressed back harder up between her legs.

It's what we did, letting it happen. I stopped thinking about stopping.

I was caressing her, scrapping my fingers front to back, front to back, lightly over the fabric, moving my fingers gradually faster. Touching her beneath that little jean skirt. She was laid out before me, I loved watching her body moving ever so slightly against my hand, and the way her ass would tip high and then back down, watching her legs stretch taut, watching her curl her toes. It was imperceptible at first, but as I moved on her she was moving more openly, she was pressing her apart and tipping her hips in rhythm to my touch, as my fingers played between her legs.

My fingers began slipping as I stroked her. She was getting so wet, I could feel her getting wetter and wetter. She had soaked her panties so that my fingers slipped on her almost feeling as if she had nothing on.

On one pass I continued right up her backside, lazily following the crack of her ass, my hand sliding over the silk fabric to the hem at her waist, feeling the jean skirt stretch as I curled my fingers around the hem of her panties and began to tug them down. She froze.

She would stop me now I thought.

I was steadily tugging them down beneath her skirt, could feel her panties sliding over the curve of her ass. Reaching at her sides I tugged the hep at each hip, until they were down to the edge of the bottom of her skirt. But no response, she simply let me tug them lower right over her ass and then down her thighs. I could feel her body hold utterly still. It was as if her whole body was melting, relaxing, falling in anticipation. But to look at her, she did not move at all as I tugged those red panties down her legs, past her knees, down to her ankles.

She was not moving away, not trying to shake me off. At one point I felt her hips rise lightly, so as to aid the removal of her panties. So slowly, a little at a time, I worked them down her long legs, and off the end of her feet where I tucked them under my pillow.

When I looked back up at her, there was her bare pussy! Pink and shining, the swollen pussy lips and dark hairs of her cunny framing its pink center. The line running down between her legs, the folds of loose flesh swollen out from her slit. I brought my hand back up her thighs and lay it, palm up, right over her bare pussy cupping her with the flat of my hand, and once again began pressing my middle finger into the folds of her pussy lips, began rubbing her between her legs.

It was incredible, the feel of her. She was soaking sopping wet, and her pussy lips opening to me so softly. I could feel the flesh pulling wide, hanging down between her legs like a little peach, as I pressed my fingers and dug into her wet ridge. She was so soft, opening right up to me. I slipped my finger down between her legs and once more found her little clit. I heard her gasp - the only sound she made - at the moment I touched tip of her clit. That little nub, and as I drew a circle there could feel her involuntarily tense her whole body. The reaction was an arch of her back that lifted her hips right up off the bed. I was looking right at her pink little cunt, her legs spreading wider, I had pulled her pussy lips wide and could see her vagina creaming white. My middle finger was reaching down and was set right over her clit, with my thumb I pressed it deep up into her vagina, and held her like that with my open hand. No matter how she moved I was slipping inside her, stimulating her, masturbating her. She moved against my hand, breathing faster, and lifting her hips up. The feeling of her body tensing and releasing, the feel of her breathing, my cock ached at the sight of her.

It was then I stopped moving. I held my hand right there for her, with my middle finger pressing into her clit and my thumb shoved up inside her. I held myself still for her, letting her move her body against me. The slightest undulation on my hand, the tiniest circles being drawn over my finger. Grinding her cunt onto my thumb, shoving herself, impaling herself against me.

Her hips trembled now as she ground herself into my hand, guiding my finger right around the rim of her clit and pushing down so that its little hood would press back, letting me dig into her. All slippery and hard, it felt like a white pearl playing around my finger; and then sliding my hand back, her inner lips loose, swoolen, feeling for that space inside her. I was watching my fingers move on her pushing deep up into her vagina, watching her as I did, for some sign, something that told me what she felt. No matter how she moved I was digging into her body, touching her, masturbating her.

I held to her like that a long time, and as I did she was moving herself harder and faster, turning herself on me. I could feel her body trembling, as her legs stretched out tight on the bed, when her vagina began to quiver and tighten on my thumb.

She was near to cumming. I would make her cum. I could feel the pulse of her pussy, contracting and releasing. Her breathing was rapid, but she kept it even and still watching TV, so that her face displayed no sign she was cumming. Her chin still over the edge of the bed. I rubbed the rough flesh in her vagina, finger fucking her, letting my hand move on her again as she met my thrusts.

When next her body began to quiver and spasm, the only other thing I noticed was her hand grasping the blankets and squeezing her hands into balls into the bed as she lifted her ass into the air. Her thighs and cunny shaking over my finger as I dug into her, and I could feel her cunt squeezing me, pulsing against me, see her gripping the blankets. I could feel her cumming hard, holding back from making any sound at all. It was amazing. At one point she pressed her mouth into the sheets, like she was biting down. Her eyes closed. I reached out my other hand and held her bare hips, her skirt was up around her waist now, and I began scratching my nails down her thighs.

Her body shaking and quivering, still cumming. It was so intense! She held herself perfectly still, and then began to relax and fall back down into the bed. Realizing she was naked from the waist down I pulled her skirt back around her ass.

She lay there a little while longer, before jumping off the bed and leaving the room.

Only then did I realize what I had done.

-------------------

I could not have imagined that yesterday could have happened. I had given my sister an orgasm, and now I was beyond nervous to go downstairs.

How do you greet someone whom you secretly masturbated?

But I did not want to be weird, things had to be ok, normal. Plus I was curious, what would she do. Was she mad? I had to find out. I had to get it out of the way.

My hands did not even feel like they were a part of my body. I could still feel Sara, the slippery wetness, the pressure of her vagina, the pressure of her body, pussy hairs. I could still smell her scent on my fingers. I had masturbated so many times already sniffing her panties, my fingers. It was such a delicious smell. Exquisite.

What would happen when I saw her? No one else would be up, and I was trying to decide if I should see her alone or wait until mom or Billy were up. I pulled on my T shirt and a pair of shorts, deciding it was best to see her when the house was quiet, and went downstairs.

As expected, she was in the kitchen. Making coffee. I passed by her, she did not turn to me, and sat down.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

As the coffee brewed, she was standing at the counter with a small book that was open into which she was writing. I said nothing. Finally, she turned and looked at me. The only thing that I noticed is how when she caught my eye, she held her gaze on me a little longer than usual. Her smile gave away nothing, it was the same as always, but the way she held my eye.

"Hi," was all she said.

No anger or warning, or nervousness. I noticed her put the small book she had into her robe pocket.

She poured the coffee, two cups, one for me and one for her and walked over to the table.

"Here. Mom was called into work."

"Thanks."

"Want anything?" The way she stood in front of me, the tone of her voice, it was like an invite to molest her.

"What?"

She walked away saying, "Breakfast, I was going to make some eggs."

"Yeah. Yeah. Sure. That would be great." I sounded nervous.

"Ok."

She made up some eggs, bacon, toast. I was imagining what may be under her robe as she stood at the sink. With her turned from me, I could openly look at her. There was something different this morning, and I could not put my finger on it. Sara seemed more attractive, I was drawn to her. That feeling you get, of attraction. The nervousness of arousal, we were almost flirting. The eye contact was a little longer than usual, the way she twisted her hair in her hands when she was talking.

"This is nice. Thanks." I am thinking the whole time, be as normal as you can.

I began to eat in silence. No idea what to say.

"You have a long face today," she said over her cup.

"Oh, yeah? No. Just tired, still. Uh, what were you writing?"

"Writing? Oh," She lay her hand over her pocket, "It's just a . . . I was writing a poem, in my diary."

"You have a diary?" I had like this adrenaline rush, thinking about what she might write in there. Was she writing about us? She had to be. I was feeling very guilty and very paranoid. What if someone else read it?

"Hmmm, Yeah, it is, I always write stuff in my diary, poems, stories. Things that happen in my day." She held her eye on me as she said the last bit, I looking away as she caught my eye.

I felt myself get nervous again. She keeps a diary.

I changed the subject, "Did you invite Marnie? To our party."

Sara flashed me a look. "Yeah, why?"

I shrugged, "No reason."

"You like her, don't you?"

"Same as, you like Mike."

She paused a moment before adding, "Let me tell you something about Marnie." Then she paused, "No, I'd better not tell you. You'd blab."

I quickly responded, "I'd never give away any of your secrets."

To which she flashed me a quick smile, looking into my eyes, "And I'd never reveal any of yours."

I sensed just the hint of a blush on her cheeks.

I looked right at her and said, "For that you get a little reward."

I held out a spoonful of eggs, "Here."

"No. I'm fine. I'm done."

"Here." I wanted her to lean to me. In that moment I wanted to touch her, it felt like we could hold each other just then. Be intimate. Our bodies were communicating in a language all their own. She leaned in, and her robe fell open a little. I could see down the front of her robe, the swell of her breasts.

I said playfully, "Put your head back. Close your eyes."

She eyed me, but did it. The look of her throat, exposed.

"Open your mouth."

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. I held her chin with my hand *touched her* as I fed her, watched her lips close around the spoon and then tugged it away.

"You can have one little bite."

I could not control that urge just then. It was weird. Her compliance, the touch of her skin.

Our secrets.

-------------

That afternoon I was laying on my bed reading. No TV, silence and the quiet room. Everyone was out of the house, mom at work. My little brother out playing, Sara out somewhere.

Or I thought they were.

Suddenly, Sara appeared and hopped up on the bed and lay right next to me, not like when she is watching TV.

"Hi. What you doing?"

"What does it look like. Reading. I thought you were gone with Marnie."

"Hmmm. Didn't want to go."

And she lay herself next to me, stared at the ceiling. I continued reading, my heart pounding in my chest. Not knowing what to say, we were home alone.

Sara held her arms straight up and turned them back and forth. "You know, my tan is much darker than yours now."

I didn't respond.

"From swimming. Lift up your arm."

I set my book down and did the same. Four arms lifted straight up.

She brought her arms down and turned her whole body to me. Never had Sara been like this.

"Well. What should we do now?"

I looked over at her, "Uh, we can fix lunch."

I picked up my book to read.

"No, I'm not hungry yet."

She just lay there staring silently at me. I could feel her eyes on me when finally I turned, "Well, what do you want to do?"

"Why don't we play a game?"

"A game? Come on. I don't think..."

"I know some good games. Like, Truth or Dare."

That caught me off guard. There were some things I did not want to talk about with Sara today. "I don't think so, when you ever play that?"

She rolled back again, "Well, I played it with Mike one time. Well, not JUST Mike." And then rolling back to her side facing me. "Come on David! First question. You first, all right. Truth or Dare?"

"I don't think." When finally relenting, "Truth."

She paused a moment and then asked, "Do you have any secret talents?"

Everything she was saying today I was taking two ways, and immediately my mind went to us on THIS bed, me giving her an orgasm. Special talent - yeah, I can give a woman a mind blowing orgasm.

Instead, I simply held my arm straight out and let my elbow bend way back, "I can do this."

She stared up at my arm, it was like a twenty degree angle the wrong way.

"Look at that. Weird."

"Yeah."

"Your joints are screwed up. What else can you do?"

"I can bend my thumb all the way back so it touches my wrist. See?" And so I pulled my thumb right back tight against my wrist.

"Gross."

She reached across to bend my thumb back with her hand and scraped her arm across my cheek as she did.

"You need a shave," and then she was touching my chin and cheek with her hands.

"I haven't shaved yet."

Silence.

"Ok. Your turn."

I said, "Truth or Dare."

"Truth."

"Have you ever kissed . . ."

She playfully jumped up, "Yes!"

"No wait. I didn't ask what I was going to ask. I was going to ask 'Have you ever kissed MIKE."

She looked at me, "No, forget it. I don't want to answer that! It'll get everywhere!"

"Tell me. I won't share your secrets. besides your reaction already told me."

"Yes." She frowned.

"Really?? When?"

"That's another question, I answered your stupid question and it's my turn now, say nothing. Truth or Dare."

"Dare."

She smiled at that, and thought for a long time. "I dare you to say something dirty for twenty seconds."

"What!"

She was giggling, "You heard me. Talk dirty for twenty seconds," she lay on her side facing me now, her eyes locked on me.

"What do I say? Ok. Ok. "Ahh, Pussy so soft and wet. I love eating hot cunnies, and squeezing big tits and sucking, so good. You have the best sweet little pussy ever," and I froze - fuck was I was thinking of her! "Is that twenty seconds?"

God that had given me a hard on, and I needed to adjust.

"Pretty nasty," she smiled. "But Good, yeah. Your turn."

"Truth or Dare?"

She lay on her back and said up into the ceiling, "Dare."

Shit. I felt a heat rise in me. What could I dare her to do. She was wearing those little shorts again today, and a fluffy white tube top, nothing on her shoulders. I looked at her a long time, the shape of her mouth, her eyes staring at me, her hair all laid out on my bed. God she looked hot.

"I dare you to kiss me for twenty seconds." My face flushed beet red.

Her eyes went wide and she turned her head to me. "What!" And lifting up on one elbow she sat up right at my hip. A little smile came across her face, "Ok.

She leaned down and put her lips on mine, simply holding her lips to mine. Her eyes were closed. She had her hand on my neck as she kissed me, so soft. I did not quite know what to do. Here we were kissing on my bed. I had her naked from the waist down yesterday, incredible. She opened her mouth the tiniest bit and bit my lower lip, I pushed it out and let her and she responded by running her tongue right along the ridge of my lower tongue, before letting me go.

"Wow." I said when she sat back up. "You're a good kisser."

"You do naughty dares. Truth or Dare?" She was flushed and her lips were swollen. We were gradually getting aroused.

I said, "Dare."

She lay back down on her back, "Well I dare you to kiss ME, with your tongue for twenty seconds."

I went absolutely rock hard. Sara lifted her arms above her head, waiting.

I pressed my lips to hers and felt her open her mouth, I just melted. My tongue touched hers a moment and we let them swirl together, I traced the line of her teeth and rolled myself a little onto her so my chest was laying on her breast. She tipped her head back and we french kissed, for it had to be longer than twenty seconds. I finally lifted my face from her.

She opened her eyes, "That was bad."

I smiled, "An innocent kiss."

"No one can know about this."

"I know."

We both got quiet, we were both pretty aroused, too aroused.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

I said, "You started it." Her eyes got wide as she looked at me, the implication being obvious. "Today I mean. You came in here."

She looked off in the distance, thinking. "I let you do stuff I only let a boyfriend do you know."

"Are you mad? You could have stopped me."

She shook her head. "I'm sittin up here aren't I. It's silly fun David. I don't want it to be any more. I don't want you to think it can be any more, I worry about that."

"Don't. I know that."

"It's just that. You can't always control feelings. I like you, as a brother, I mean and don't want to lose that. Ever."

"You won't."

She looked at me. "We have to stop. It's silly fun, it feels good, but if anybody found out."

I didn't say anything. She was right, but I felt empty.

I just said, "Anymore Truth or Dare?"

"Games over."

-----------

After that afternoon, nothing happened anymore between Sara and me.

In a way, it was a relief. But at the same time depressing, the anticipation, the excitement, the 'silly fun' she had called it. The feel of her skin, her mouth, her tongue. It was over. I had memories, AND her panties.

Between us, when we saw each other, it was as if nothing had ever happened. I began to relax, feel more like my old self. Whenever she came in my room to watch TV, I felt a sudden pang, a moment of adrenaline run through me. But every time she stood in the doorway, looking up at me and then down at my brother; every time she slid into the lower bunk.

Never up with me.

For my part I had resolved to stop, no matter what. She was right. We are brother and sister. And after our conversation, my intention was stronger than ever. But, honestly, when I watched her there avoiding getting up in bed with me, there was a rush relief because, for all my 'resolve' I really questioned whether it would have been very likely that had Sara lain on my bed for any of the last ten times she'd been in our room, I would have not touched her.