4-4-2 Guys and Girls at a Bar

With that job finished, I looked upon her face. The entire package, really. She was beautiful, my sister; there was no denying it. Her dress was black according to the school color, so was the delicious bra I couldn't comprehend her needing for a night out with her family. Not only that, but her makeup was rather unnecessary as well. But that was my sister, always dressed up. Her face, despite bearing her makeup well, looked exceptional while unfettered. It was a shame she hardly ever went without it.

Wanting her to feel loved, I leaned in to kiss her forehead. Her skin burned me, and I didn't want to pull away. But pull away I did, only to pull her close to me when she collapsed into my arms with further sobs.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

On and on it went. She unburied her face from my chest long enough to kiss me on the chin, and she was gone again, getting tears on my rather ungamely nightshirt. "I'm sorry," she said yet again, giving me a kiss on the cheek this time.

When her third kiss came, it was aimed at my lips, and I was ready for her. Her hand had encircled my neck to pull me to her, and I was only too anxious to feast upon her sweet lips once more. Of all the girls I've kissed, I loved kissing her the most. She was so quiet that I was extra-sensitive to the sensations of her tongue teasing mine and her hands gripping me tightly.

Many girls I had been with had been stiff-tongued or stiff-lipped, others were too wet and too anxious. Some girls didn't even go for kissing in the first place, and that type was most common after I got out of high school. But Becky, she was good. It was so much fun kissing her, time seemed to fly by.

...And then stop. I was enjoying myself way too much, I forgot I was supposed to be comforting her. When she backed away from me and licked her lips, the mood sobered back up, and I remembered how I was supposed to behave. I put a comforting hand on her shoulder, naked but for the spaghetti straps that held her dress and bra in place, and I gazed at her warmly. Becky, she didn't know where to look or what to do. I think she may have muttered "I'm sorry" a few more times, but at least she had stopped crying.

We were like that for a few minutes, not frozen in space, but neither knowing what to do. Me, I couldn't help but want to kiss more. Part of me hoped she wanted it to. She had already kissed me once; I figured it was my turn, so that's what I did.

Immediately, the warm feelings returned. I positively adored kissing her, and she seemed just as enthusiastic as I was. I coaxed her tongue out faster this time around, and I tried to ply extra-deep with our kiss, but she backed off, giving me only a few feathery kisses. I stopped pushing, and she returned to a semi-deep kiss at once, one where she'd be able to keep teasing my tongue. My sister was a natural, and I'd wasted my mature life kissing girls who weren't worth the sweat on Becky's toes.

She was very relaxed in our kiss. I'm used to hands going all over the place, but hers were still, prompting mine to behave themselves as well. Since we weren't doing the "deep-and-shallow" kiss, our heads stayed locked firmly in place except for the occasional moment when we'd switch sides for a better angle or when she would back off, only letting me reach her lips, and only just.

My hand was rubbing her shoulder quite suggestively, and in time, my needs outranked my discipline, forcing my hand down her chest to clutch her breast. She gasped, and I weighed the soft flesh in my hand. I didn't want to distract either of us from our kissing, so I just held onto her breast like I had held her ass earlier that night. It indeed felt wonderful the way it fit so perfectly in my hand. And Becky began breathing more heavily to boot, and she let her own hand slide down from my neck to my chest, with her other feeling my thigh like earlier.

Her hands warmed up to my body rather quickly, and soon kissing was no longer enough. Slowly, deliberately, my hand grasped more tightly around her breast, my fingers closing together and drawing away until I had nothing but her firm nipple between my fingertips. I squeezed down on it gently, and I was rewarded with a more punctuated gasp from her sweet lips.

I kissed instead her neck, continuing to pinch her nipple. My lips made slow progress down her neck, staying only long enough to draw more gasps from her. Every time she sucked in air, I squeezed gently on her nipple again.

When I got to her shoulder, I again clutched at her breast. My lips traveled further down her shoulder to meet her straps, which I pointedly pushed out of my way so that my lips could reach her arm unfettered. With my other hand holding her breast ever so gently, I swept up with my thumb, catching her other straps, and they fell to the side as well. I could feel both of her hands reaching for my dick as my kisses zeroed in on her chest, and she gripped my staff hard when I sucked in the fat of her breast sticking out of her dress.

I pulled my hands away, allowing her dress to fall. I pushed her bra down with it, letting her breasts fall free, and no sooner did her sweet, dark nipples appear than I had caught one in my mouth. Her lips automatically fastened themselves to my ear, and one of her hands slid down my sweats while the other clawed at my waistband.

My cock was out, and I was pushed out of her way. Her lips were closer... closer... I could feel her hot breath, and then something moist touching the very tip...

"Is everything alright in... what's going on?"

In the very moment of hearing our mother's voice, I flipped the closest blanket in reach over Becky's body as I spun my head around. Thankfully, Mom was only just peeking around the corner, too late to see anything incriminating.

"What's wrong, Mom?" I asked, speaking for Becky, who, I imagine, must have been freaking out at (as far as she knew) getting caught and hoping everything would end in something other than her total demise.

"I thought I heard Becky crying from downstairs, but I wanted to give her a little time to..."

"I got there first; sorry, Mom," I said easily. "Just the stress of the day kicking in, you know." I wanted to get her out of there as fast as possible.

"Becky? You alright in there?"

"Yeah, Mom," Becky managed to squeak out. My unearthed cock was still inches from her face, uncovered by the blanket. If our mother was to get in our faces, there'd be no hiding it. "Thanks for dinner."

I don't know how she did it, but she sounded normal. Mom seemed satisfied, and she walked off with no further incident. I wanted to leap up and shut the door after her, but no way would I get away with it. "Becky? You okay?" I asked. Hopefully the intrusion didn't kill her mood.

"I'm sorry, Derrick..." Fuck. "...But we can't do this. Not now."

"But..." I don't like to argue with women, but dammic, I thought we were finally making headway.

"It's too dangerous tonight. I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright?"

Fuck.