Charlie and Mindy Bk. 02 Ch. 04

He positively beamed at me. He was a jovial fellow to begin with, and his grin lit up the room. "That's a wonderful question. You've encountered the subjunctive, and, in doing so, you've anticipated today's lesson. During the next hour, I will try to make everything clear. So, just be patient for a few minutes, and I will tell all."

When he'd finished answering me, he turned back to the class and dealt with a few other questions. While he was doing so, I glanced over at Mindy. She was in a state of shock: I had asked a question in class. And I'd asked it in reasonably correct French. Moreover, it was a question that went beyond what the two of us had studied together the day before.

"Where'd that come from?" she whispered. That she was dumbfounded was evident, because she'd blurted it out in English instead of in French.

I gave her my best Sphinx-like smile, and I shook my finger at her. "En français, s'il vous plaît," I whispered back, scolding her for breaking the rule that all conversation in that classroom was to be in French. I figured she'd probably beat me up later for catching her out—especially since I'd added insult to injury by using the formal vous instead of the informal te. But it was worth it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As we left that classroom to walk to our calculus class, she grinned at me. There was a little extra sparkle in her eyes, and I knew she wanted to kiss me. I wanted to kiss her, too, but there were too many people around for that. She'd been right; being her brother was annoying. Instead of kissing me, she latched on to my arm and pulled herself close to me.

Still grinning, she said, "Charlie, who knew you had the makings of a scholar. You really impressed Pepin with that question. And you impressed me, too. You must've been doing some studying on your own."

I grinned back at her, realizing that I wasn't going to get beaten up after all. And I reached over and squeezed the hand she'd hooked onto my arm. "If I'm going to do this, I think I'd better do it right," I said. "But I'm sure there are a lot of things you'll still have to teach me about studying. Scholarship has always been your department—I've always been in charge of seeing that enough fucking-off gets done.

"But how are you this morning? We never got a chance to even say 'Hi' to each other, because I was just in time for class. Thanks for saving me a seat."

She squeezed my arm. "I'm great. Did you have a good night? Or did you drink too much beer?"

"We didn't stay out very late. George is almost as much of a grind as I'm going to learn to be, and he has an eight o'clock class on the same mornings we have French. So we got home around eleven.

"But he did ask me if it's all right if he asks you out, so I think he'll probably try to hit on you before long. I warned him about your 'boyfriend' from home."

"Well," she replied, "I'll just have to disappoint him when he asks. It won't be fun, but I can deal with it. He seems like a pretty nice guy, and if I weren't already in love with a wonderful man I might be interested."

She fluttered her eyelashes at me; I let myself glow a little bit and fluttered my eyelashes back at her. "What a coincidence! I'm in love, too. With an amazing woman!"

I continued. "And he said that it's fine from now on if you want to come over any time after seven-thirty on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays—just yell when you come up the stairs to let him know you're there. He'll be leaving at about a quarter of eight for his German class those days. So we'll have a whole hour those four mornings to…ummm…study."

My grin had turned dirty, and she returned it in the spirit in which I'd given it to her.

"And I think that I can guess just what it is you'll want to study during that hour. But I hope that doesn't mean we have to wait until tomorrow for…that! I'm suffering a little from my SSDD." Her deep blue eyes bored into me as she spoke.

"George will be in one of his labs this afternoon, from one to four. So we could get together for a little afternoon study session after lunch. Who knows, we might even get some schoolwork done…" I was leering at her, then, and we were getting close to Strong Hall, where our calculus class met.

Briefly, she leered back at me; I could almost feel her eyes as she stroked my body with them. But then she straightened out her face straightened out her face and said, sotto voce, "Wipe it off your face, lover, there're too many eyes around here."

She was right, and I wiped. But her hand remained on my arm, and I squeezed it against my body until we got to the door of the building—where we had to separate because of the narrow, crowded passages.

We had arrived with a few minutes to spare. Mindy spotted us a pair of adjacent seats right next to the woman she'd sat next to the day before. We sat down, and Mindy started an animated conversation with the other woman, whose name, I gathered from Mindy's greeting, was Stephanie. My little sister was very good at making new friends, and she and Stephanie seemed to have a lot to talk about after knowing each other for just twenty-four hours.

They chatted for a bit, until Dr. Munson arrived. He was an older fellow, close to retirement, and one of the few professors on the campus who still clung to the tradition of wearing coat and tie all the time. In fact, he was so traditional that he always wore a black suit and a black tie—which made him look more like a preacher than a professor. But in spite of his idiosyncrasies, he had a dry wit and the reputation of being one of the best teachers on the campus. The math department professors didn't stay in sequence with their courses the way the French professors did, and the guy I'd taken first and second semester calculus from wasn't teaching third semester this fall. So last spring when I'd enrolled, I'd chosen Munson on account of his reputation.

He sat on the desk. (I thought, in those days, that the main difference between college teachers and high school teachers was that the former always sit on the desk at the front of the classroom, while the latter always sit behind it.) "Are there any questions?" he asked in his sharp New England accent.

I glanced over at Mindy; she returned my glance with a little smile. And I thought to myself how unconscious I'd been of what had been happening in my classrooms over the last year. I had never really noticed that nearly every professor began every class session—except for the ones involving tests—with that question.

And in spite of myself, I had begun in the last day and a half to prefer my new state of consciousness over the old unconscious me. The candle that had begun flickering in that back room was already settling into a steady flame that gave some useful light.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Tuesdays, Mindy's English composition course met for an hour and a half immediately following calculus, but I had nothing scheduled for that time block. So I made a hurried trip to Krojer, where I picked up a few days' groceries that George and I could share, and returned home.

Once home, I got out one of the half-dozen eight-inch baguettes I'd bought and made myself a sandwich. I put it on the table, filled a glass with milk, picked up my history book, and sat down at the table to read some of my history while I ate. George was in his physics class, which met at the same time that Mindy's English comp class met, so I had the apartment to myself. I could hear someone moving around on the first floor every now and then, but I didn't know whether it was Frank, or Earl, or both.

I worked on my sandwich as I read, and I was surprised to find that what I was reading was pretty interesting. I started wondering why I'd done so little of the assigned reading in my classes before. Had I been missing other things as interesting in courses I'd given scant attention to in the past? I had to admit the possibility.

I heard someone come in the front door. It wouldn't be Frank or Earl, because they used the back door. I looked at my watch; it was almost one o'clock. If George were here now, he'd never get to his lab on time—and I knew he wouldn't miss a lab, or even be late to one, on purpose. So it had to be Mindy.

Sure enough, seconds later I heard a small person's footsteps on the stairs, and Little Sister's voice called out, "Charlie? Are you here? It's me?"

"Come on up, Mindy," I yelled back. "I'm in the kitchen. Have you had lunch yet?"

"Yeah," she responded as she rounded the corner into the hall. "She let us out fifteen minutes early, and I stopped by the dining hall at the dorm to get it before I came over."

She stepped into the kitchen as she finished her sentence. Seeing me seated at the table, my back almost to the door, she stepped up behind me and gave me a big wet kiss dead center on the back of my neck. She'd taken me by surprise, and I was almost instantly hard.

"Damn!" I whispered. "You're a sexy one. One touch, and you've given me a boner. We'd better go to my room and do a little 'studying.' But we'll have to keep it kind of quiet—there's somebody home downstairs."

She chuckled. It was a deep, throaty chuckle I hadn't heard before. Then she whispered back, "My panties have been wet ever since I left the dining hall. I think I'm ready to 'study'. Let's work on Sex 101 first."

She punctuated it by attacking my ear with lips, tongue, and teeth. If her kiss on the back of my neck hadn't already done it, that attack would've made me steel hard. I swallowed the last bite of my sandwich, reached up with both hands for her head, and, turning my own head toward her, I brought her lips to my own.

Our tongues played tag with each other, and we moaned into each other's mouths, as she stepped a little closer to me in order to get a better angle. Her hands came up to my own head and held me to her as the kiss extended into deep time. At the end of eternity, we broke from each other's lips and looked into each other's eyes.

"God!" I said. "You're good at that. You might be ready for Sex 102."

"I have good inspiration." Her hands caressed my ears and my cheeks. "Let's…" she interrupted herself to kiss the tip of my nose.

"…head for the bedroom," I continued for her.

"Just what I was thinking," she finished.

We'd been whispering, of course. We didn't want anyone downstairs to think we were doing anything but real studying.

She was standing just to my left and behind me. From my seat at the table, I turned toward her and swept her off her feet into my arms.

"Just in case you're thinking of escape," I said, grinning evilly and stepping out for my room.

She threw her own arms around my neck.

"Just in case you're thinking of escape." She returned evil grin for evil grin. "Now you've got me right where I want me."

"Gulp!" I said.

"You'd better say 'Gulp!' buster. You're done for." Her grin deepened. "Well, almost. But you better believe that you're about to get done."

After a second or two, she added, "God, you make me horny!" She reached up for another kiss.

I'd been walking toward my room while we bantered, and, not long after she'd found my lips, I held her over my side of the bed—the side, that is, that I occupied when we slept together. (Naturally, I hadn't made the bed; that would've violated the Fundamental Code.) Without breaking our kiss, I laid her down gently on her back; my hands immediately went to her shirt buttons and started undoing them. Her hands found my belt buckle and unlatched it.

"I hope you know that you're going to get done every bit as much as I am," I said as our lips parted and my hands, now under the shirt I'd opened, found her bare little titties.

"Oh, I hope so," she replied. "I sure do hope so."

She had unzipped my Levis, and she was pulling them down, together with my boxers. I reached for her belt buckle, and kissed her again as I undid it. My cock sprang to freedom; she captured it wuickly and began stroking it. I got her pants open and reached inside—sliding my hand, palm toward her, down between her panties and her body. Her waiting furrow engulfed my middle finger as her hips bucked upward. She was hot, wet, slippery.

I fingered her clit and her inner lips for a few moments. Then I removed my hand and stood up from where I had been bent over her as she lay on the bed. I shucked my shirt, kicking off my shoes as I did. Seeing what I was doing, she kicked off her own shoes, removed her shirt, Levis, and panties as I removed my own pants and boxers.

"Scooch over a bit," I said, as I started to climb into the bed with her. She scooched, winding up in about the middle of the bed, on her side facing me. I lay down on my own side next to her, and took her into my arms—as she took me into hers. I looked into my little sister's loving, deep blue eyes and lost myself there as I held her naked little body close—enjoying her softness, her warmth, her curved shapes.

As she moved to kiss me again, I rolled over onto my back, pulling her with me so that she wound up on top of me. Her lips found mine, and our tongues played again with each other. Her thighs parted and she brought her knees up so that she could straddle me; the hot moisture of her cleft rubbed against my lower belly. Again, we moaned into each other's mouths. My hands stroked up and down her sides, moving along the curves of her waist and the gentle swell of her hips.

She broke our kiss and slid down along me until her furrow cradled my cock. As she rocked her hips so that her slippery folds stroked me, she grinned at me.

"Like I said last night, I'm going to have this one my way."

"Mmmm! Your way, my way, our way, any way, any time. Your pussy feels so good against my cock." My own hips were rocking, now, helping her rub herself against my cock.

We were still whispering. So far, we had managed to keep the noise down pretty well.

"Let's see how you feel inside me."

She reached around behind her thigh, grasped my cock, and held it steady as she brought her sheath over it.

"Ooooohh!" we moaned, gently, together, as she engulfed me. We lay there, unmoving, united, holding ourselves tightly against each other.

"I love how it feels when it goes into you," I whispered into her ear.

"Oh, God! So do I," she moaned into my ear. "You have such a nice dick."

We lay there, not quite unmoving, for a few more minutes, chest-to-chest, belly-to-belly, lost in the feeling of my little sister's pussy wrapped tightly, heatedly, wetly around her big brother's cock. Our lips nibbled at each other wherever they could reach—neck, ears, chins, cheeks, and, of course, other lips. Her hands had slipped under my arms and behind my shoulders; with them, she clasped herself against me. My hands roamed her sides, her back, her thighs, and her ass—feeling, stroking, squeezing.

But no matter how much we wished the sensations could last forever, it wasn't long before they persuaded us that we should move. Her hips began rocking gently so that her slippery channel stroked my hungry cock. My own hips responded, and soon we were pounding against each other in Nature's ancient rhythm.

Fortunately, the bed was a sturdy one, and it didn't squeak, moan, rattle, or thump as we bounced up and down on it. Somehow, we managed to stifle the noises we wanted to make. Release came to us at the same time; my cum spurted into her depths as her own rapture contracted her around me—and still we contained ourselves, uttering only little moans and groans as we stiffened in the throes of the ecstasies we'd given each other.

We lay there awhile, relaxed now, my arms resting limply on her naked little body just as she rested limply on me, my slowly softening cock still embedded in her. We basked, there, in the sweetness of after-sex sensation, each of us grateful for the other's loving partnership, each of us thankful we could be a source of pleasure for the other—as the other was a source of pleasure for us.

At length, I moved my hands again, stroking my little sister's back. She raised her head and looked into my eyes.

"I love you, Charlie," she whispered. "I love you so much!"

"I love you, too, Mindy," I whispered back to her. "I love you even more!"

She brought her lips to mine, and we kissed, gently. Passion's hunger was sated, for the moment, but love's was not, and that kiss communicated it fully.

When the kiss ended, she looked into my eyes again. She smiled.

"Big Brother and Little Sister," she whispered.

"Best friends and lovers," I responded, smiling back, holding her dear little body tightly.

"Now and always!" we whispered to each other in chorus, as my cock—limp, shrunken, a pale shadow of its earlier self—flopped out of her.

(To be continued)

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Comments are welcome. I don't comment on my own stories, so I have no way to respond to anonymous comments; I will try to respond to others.

—CarlusMagnus