A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch. 02

"Just in case something happens and I leak again."

"Not if I can lick it up."

"Hmm! Maybe if I'm just thinking about."

"Just tell me. Hm-hmm! And don't think about it at work in the library."

"Hadn't thought of that. Maybe I will."

We grinned. Somehow we managed to read the newspaper without thinking about it - not too much - until it was time to prepare dinner, Mom's next menu. In the kitchen, she did most of the cooking.

Are teenagers insatiable, even after all we had done? It seemed like it. I rubbed her ass at every available opportunity, and she chuckled and hummed.

This was all nothing like anything I had imagined with a girl, assuming the first time would be embarrassing fumbling in the dark somewhere - car, wherever -- and then maybe more relaxed a second time, but still fairly dark in her room. I couldn't imagined "her" being in my room, our house. But we would still be shy about seeing each other naked with the light turned on, blatantly accepting that we were doing something we shouldn't be. This sure wasn't like that! We had started in broad daylight, and were siblings!

After I had set the table, and rubbed my hips against hers, letting her feel that my cock was a little aroused, she reach back and fondled it. She did complain, when I then reached around her and fondled her breasts, arousing her nipples, telling me that something on the stove would burn, if I kept doing that up. I relented, but let her feel on her hip that my cock was a little more "up." Yes, teenagers are insatiable, and we were not shy of blatantly accepting that we were doing something we shouldn't be.

We proved that after dinner with another beer. At her instance, we managed to clean up in the kitchen, with more fondling. When we had finished, we grinned at each other with expectant expressions. She snorted with warm hum and said:

"I still want to. Hm-hmm! Dessert, if you can."

"And if I can't, just try."

We went in the living room and I sat down. She did, not just having to "try," and I did -- my cock.

I could only hope that her having her pussy licked had been as arousing as my having my cock sucked.

She knelt between my legs and looked at my already swelling cock. I felt her fingers come up under my balls, fondling them gently. She snorted and glanced up at me and murmured:

"Maybe I can suck them too."

That was a new idea for me, a nice new idea. I nodded with a smile. She looked back down at my cock, that was about to lift up. I saw her lick her lips. "Mmmm!" She was going to be able to lick my cock where she knew it was most sensitive! My cock rose up. She hummed with a nod, then murmured:

"Guess I'll have to start another time, when it's all soft."

"Seems unlikely, but I hope so too."

She nodded, her eyes fastened on my cock, that rose further. Her fingers fondle my balls for a moment, and then she lowered her head. Her lips slipped around the head of my cock. It twitch, just from feeling her lip touch it there. She hummed in response, and then her lips were closed around the shaft of my cock, and the tip of her tongue was tickling there, making my cock twitch even stronger. She knew what she was doing to me! She sucked, her head dropping further to let my cock slip deeper in her mouth to fill the vacuum in it. But she wanted to lick it there again, drawing her head up and finding the little ridge of skin with her tongue.

I moaned, and she moaned. That felt so good too, the vibration of her moan on my cock! I moaned again, a long, aroused, appreciative, encouraging moan. After that it was just too good, too good for me to describe! She sucked and licked, humming, apparently just wanting my cock to come in her mouth. It want to too, but I hoped that she understood that it was going to take longer than the times she had made it shoot with her hand. For me, it was very arousingly enjoyable, the anticipation. Did she enjoy suck my cock as much as I had enjoyed licking her pussy? Was her doing it as arousing for her as it had been for me?!

I was moaning, and she was moaning. We both wanted it. Her finger gave up on fondling my balls, my sack now just a tight ball around them. When my hips twitched, thrusting my cock deeper in her mouth, she grasped it and moved her hand with her bobbing head, grasped it as tight as her pussy did. My hips were rocking, fucking her in her mouth and hand!

She wanted it! I groaned, and my cock gave it to her. She almost hurt me when her jaw clamped around my cock. Of course, a reflex from her having to swallow. It had been that much, that strong, spurting back in her throat?! She didn't have to taste that one, but the couple that followed. But when she drew her head back a little, I felt her tongue swill my semen around in her mouth. "Uhn!" her tongue touching my cock again, there where it was now overly sensitive.

She moaned. That still felt good. The tip of her tongue touched my cock there again. I almost heard her swallow, as her mouth closed tighter on my cock. She moaned again. She had liked it? She couldn't have liked it as much as I had.

She licked again and raised her eyes and looked at me, nodding slightly. Can a girl smile with a cock still in her mouth? It looked like she was. I moaned and nodded. She moaned and nodded, then raised her head. My softening cock dropped down. She smiled and asked:

"Did you like that as much as I did?"

"As much as I liked licking your pussy?"

Hm-hmm! That too. Hope so. I meant, coming that way as much as I liked to make you come."

"Same thing. I hope so, especially that you really did."

"Mmmm! I did. Hm-hmm! Didn't taste as strange any more."

"Hm-hmm! Better than Dad's 'stinky cheese'?"

"A lot better!"

That was a family joke. Our father liked a European cheese that really tasted strange.

Vicky rose up with a pleased expression, then reached down between her thighs. She scowled and then grinned, remarking:

"I'm all wet. Oooh, down my thigh. Hope I didn't drip."

"Like I was, not dripping. Just don't insist that I fuck you now."

"Hm-hmm! Good thing you said that before it occurred to me to suggesting it."

We grinned and then laughed. Whatever she or I thought about what we were doing -- what we had done all day -- it was too good to worry about that.

We watched something on TV, curled up together, and went to bed in her room. I was a little surprised that she faced the wall as I joined her, understanding that we weren't going to do anything more, just because we were in bed together. I curled up behind with my arm around her, my hand holding her breast. We said good night and thanked each other for a very nice day -- with no chuckles. She put her hand on mine, and we fell asleep.

I almost fell out of bed when I rolled back during the night, waking up, then for a couple of moments very surprised, until I remembered why I was in bed with her. As I moved to get comfortable on my back, Vicky rolled back, half on me. Apparently, she also hadn't been fully awake and was then also surprised, murmuring:

"Oh? Yeah. Hmm? Hm-hmm. Hi."

"Um-hmm, hi," I replied.

She turned over, lying facing me, with her hand and arm on my chest, then chuckled softly and murmured again:

"Nice, just kind of narrow, my bed."

"Um-hmm. Like in some English or Scottish folksong, the girl singing about her 'virgin's bed'."

"Mmmm! I'm not a one any more."

"Nor I," I agreed.

Her hand slid over my chest and hugged me, and she drew her thigh up over mine.

"Very nice," I murmured, and we went back to sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, for a moment I was again surprised, realizing that a hand rubbing my side had wakened me. Vicky must have seen me open my eyes; she murmured:

"Awake? Good morning."

"Good morning. You too?"

"For a few minutes, enjoying waking up like this," and she hugged me.

"Nice, very nice. Guess I said that last night."

"Um-hmm, you did, and about my 'virgin's bed'. I liked that, that I'm not one any more."

"Me too, that you aren't, that I'm not."

"Funny, how it happened. I guess we must have wanted to. When I mentioned the book, I sure wasn't thinking we would."

"Really? I was wondering."

"Really. Hmm? Kind of silly now to believe that it didn't occur to me."

"Very silly! What else could occur to us, looking at those pictures?"

"Yes, 'very silly'. Why was I wanting to look at them with you, how could I have been wanting to, without that occurring to me?"

"Virginal innocence?"

"Hmm! What were you thinking when I suggested we look at the book?"

"Hoping you wouldn't notice that my cock was aroused."

"It was already, in the car?"

"More than I wanted it to be, well, more than I wanted you to notice."

"Hmm? Yeah, must have been virginal innocence; that that didn't occur to me."

"Just as well, else you might have decided not to share the pictures with me."

"Hm-hmm! Maybe! Glad I did."

"Me too!"

I felt her thighs twitch, and she murmured:

"Oooh! I've got to go!" and flung the covers back and began to clamber over me.

I did too then, of course, and followed her. She was going to be surprised to see my mild morning woody. She looked up from the toilet at it with a grin and asked:

"Like that already? We were just talking."

"When guys have to go in the morning, not what you're thinking."

She feigned a scowl, then nodded and replied:

"Just as well; we couldn't have, if we both had to go."

I nodded. She wiped her pussy and stood up, raised the ring for me, and waited to watch me go, chuckling at how I had to hold my cock down to aim at the toilet. When I had, I shook my cock demonstrably for her to see. This was being fun. I had always assumed that couples would be more private about using the bathroom - my virginal innocence. But it was gone. When Vicky said that she was going to take her shower, I immediately grinned. She grinned back with a shrug and said: "Both of us, together?"

"What occurred to me."

She glanced at our shower stall and said:

"Theirs is bigger," referring to the one in our parents' bathroom.

"Um-hmm! Oh, I have to shave."

She nodded and rubbed my stubble, then grinned and said:

"Before you do that again. Hm-hmm! I thought stubble burn was just on girls' cheeks."

"Back when you were a virgin."

"Um-hmm!" she agreed.

We collected our towels and washcloths and my shaving gear, and went to our parent's bathroom, through their bedroom. She glanced at the double bed and murmured:

"They're not virgins," glancing at me.

"Or we wouldn't be here."

"We aren't either."

We didn't need to have brought our washcloths. In the shower, we wanted to wash each other with our bare hands, and had fun doing it. While I was more than washing her breasts, she was more than just washing my cock and balls, snickering when she had my cock stiff. I also snickered and said:

"If you always want to do that, you're never going to be able start sucking it, when it's all soft and small."

"Oh, thanks for reminding me. Hm-hmm! Have to do that before you know I'm wanting to."

"Could be difficult; have to surprise me."

"I'll try to. Wash my pussy."

I did, more than just washing it, of course. She hummed, turning her hip towards me, apparently understanding that it was easier for my fingers to explore between her pussy lips that way. They did, one of them not just between her pussy lips. She moaned, nodding, as it rubbed in her vagina.

I really don't know how the soapy fingers of my other hand found their way into the crevice between the cheeks of her ass, but they did, they had, rubbing below the base of her spine. She chuckled and rocked her pelvis, inviting my finger in her pussy to rub and inviting my other fingers to rub further down. They were rubbing over her asshole before I really recognized it, only realizing where they were, when it moved and she started slightly and exclaimed softly:

"Oooh! There?"

My fingers held still. She snorted and murmured:

"You want to wash it?"

"Just happened, saw it yesterday."

"You did? Hmm? I guess so. Felt funny."

"Didn't look like however I thought it would."

"Hm-hmm! If you want to, felt funny."

I rubbed it again, feeling it tighten -- oh! -- and feeling her vagina tighten on my finger. She chuckled with a hum and murmured:

"Do it some more."

I did, enjoying feeling it twitch under my fingers, and that she seemed to like the sensation. She did, humming, then murmuring again:

"Feels more than 'funny,' another erogenous zone."

I hadn't heard that expression, but I immediately understood its meaning, wondering if the book mentioned something about assholes. Vicky turned towards me, my hand sliding out of her crevice, and looked up at me and said:

"Don't know about that, but it felt good. Do we have to wash our feet?"

We did, raising them up for each other to wash. I was wondering if it would feel good for me, if she rubbed my asshole; assholes were pretty much identical for males and females. I resisted the temptation to tickle the soles of her feet. We finished our shower and dried ourselves, shrugging and smirking. When I turned to shave, she said that she would start breakfast.

"A big one, scrambled eggs with ham," I replied.

"An omelette with ham and cheese?"

"Even better!"

She left, and I shaved, thinking about her remark about stubble burn. When I had finished, I gathered up all our things and returned with them to our bathroom. When I joined her in the kitchen, she gave me a smile and said:

"We can leave our things in theirs. Been thinking about it. If we can't put theirs back where they were, we can say that we used both bathrooms in the morning, so that we didn't have to take turns in ours."

"Clever! Hope they don't mind."

"Why should they? They want us to work, our jobs, both have to get up early."

"Like we did for school."

"Hmm?! Hope they don't think about that."

"Have to try to remember where their things were."

"If they notice, we just have to tell that we once did, in a hurry one morning."

"Clever enough, if you tell them."

She nodded, and soon we were eating her big omelette, with bread and lots of jam. I offered to clean up, since she had made breakfast. She said that she would get the Sunday paper, and went off, having to throw on a summer dress to go to the mailbox. She returned with the paper, pulling off her dress in the kitchen with a snicker and saying:

"Hope the neighbor didn't know that I didn't have on anything else."

"He probably wished he had. You could have let him think so."

"Hm-hmm! I almost did, wanting to shake my boobies for him to see."

"Wicked!"

"Um-hmm! What are we going to do now?"

"Read the paper, sunbathe."

"Can't in that corner of the patio till this afternoon."

"Hmm?! Just fuck around?"

"Oooh! What made you think of that?"

"One track male mind, but I was just joking."

"Pity! 'Fucking around': is that doing it different ways, or with different people, everyone else at a party?"

She smirked at me. I feigned a surprised expression. Well, it wasn't really feigned; she had surprised me, but I liked the way she had. I then feigned a serious, thoughtful expression, searching for an appropriate, witty reply. The church bell started ring for the early service. I grinned and replied:

"If you want 'fucking around' to be a party this early in the morning, I think everyone is in church."

She grinned, nodding, and agreed:

"Of course, all the wicked people who wished they could 'fuck around' like that."

"Maybe they did last night, but you just weren't there."

"Oh, last night, I was a real good girl. Oh, I was naked in bed with a guy, who was also naked, but we didn't do anything, so that was all right."

We both grinned, enjoying our bantering. We were nominally Roman Catholics. I hummed with a smirk and replied:

"That's good, but if you had gone to confession before you went to bed?"

"Ooooh!" Don't ask me! Hm-hmm! If I had told the priest - had had to tell him ..."

"He'd have wished he'd been at the party," I interjected.

"Hmm! Um-hmm, if I had thought to make it sound like it was with different guys."

"Wicked, lying in confession."

"So 'fucking around' is doing it every way we can think of?"

"Like I said, I was just joking, thinking it was doing anything else we didn't want to mention."

She grinned and replied:

"If you have a male's one track mind, that sounds like the same thing."

"Don't girls have a one track minds?"

"Haven't asked any. ... Oh, lots of them do, especially Friday and Saturday evenings."

"Oh, that's good, as long as they don't Sunday morning, when they should be in church."

"Hm-hmm! I'm not!"

"You should be."

"You too."

"Not without going to confession."

"We won't."

"We sure won't! Read the paper!"

Even though it was obvious that we both knew we had been hinting about doing something, maybe something we hadn't yet - whatever that could be - we sorted out the sections of the newspaper that we preferred and sat down to read, she on the towel on the sofa; I, on our father's arm chair.

I diligently started with the first section: politics, major news. After Vicky opened her section, I saw that she was reading the society section. Fairly quickly, I moved on to the sports section. Normally, I would have watched the sports news on TV and caught up on the baseball results Saturday evening, so I was especially interested in that. I was very surprised when I felt my knees being shoved apart, but then immediately recognized that Vicky had only been waiting for the opportunity to surprise me, like she had said in the shower. I jerked the paper up and saw her kneeling between my legs, her hand about to fondle my balls. She looked up with a grin and said: "Surprise!"

When we had been kids, she had often surprised me, but rather like Lucy's surprising Peanuts in the cartoons, another older sister. They could be a pain, but I was sure Vicky wasn't going to be one for me. I hummed with a grin and flung the sports section aside, only worried that my cock would know what I was anticipating before she could start sucking it.

She didn't wait to let it. Her fingers slid up past my sack and raised it. Without another glance at me, she lowered her head. My soft cock disappeared in her wide open mouth -- all of it -- her nose in my pubic hair. If the wicked people in church knew what she was doing?! Worse, the less wicked ones!!

Her tongue was rubbing on the soft shaft of my cock, as she sucked. She hummed, feeling that it was less soft. I felt that the head of my cock was moving deeper in her mouth. She hummed and pressed my cock up against her pallet. Did she want me also to feel it moving on it, moving further back on it? She wanted to feel that, sucking, letting it. I could understand that; my tongue was moving in my mouth, as I imagined how my cock felt in hers. I didn't want to suck a cock, but I was full of empathy with her wanting to, at least, especially mine! I moaned.

The head of my cock was sliding down the curve of the back of her pallet. She gave a short "uhn," and raised her head a little, and then further; my cock was growing to its aroused, full length. She raised her head further, glancing up at me with as much of a smile as a cock-sucking girl could, and then raised her head enough that her tongue could rub where she knew it felt most arousing for me.

There were girls who sucked cocks and didn't want taste what would happen when they licked there? They didn't lick there? Poor, frustrated guys! My anticipation of knowing that Vicky did made it so arousing!

But she suddenly raised her head, letting my swollen cock bob in cool air. Her fingers were massaging my balls in my sack, which wasn't as slack as it had been. She glanced up at me with smirk and said: