Charlie and Mindy Bk. 03 Ch. 04

She thrust her chest forward, pressing her nipple deeper into my mouth. I could hear her breathing—raggedly now. Her hands came up to stroke my hair as I teased that nipple with tongue, lips, and teeth.

After a minute or so, I switched to her other nipple, and gave it similar treatment. As I did so, I gently rolled her onto her back. She parted her thighs in welcome as I moved over between them. But then I kissed my way down the mound of her breast toward her belly button.

Her hands followed my head, continuing to stroke my hair. I swirled my tongue around in her belly button; as usual, she chuckled at that because it tickled. But it was her rare, deep-throated chuckle—the one that signified her arousal and her need.

I left her belly-button behind, and trailed down to her bush, kissing, nipping, tickling as I went. My hands stroked downward along her sides, keeping pace with my mouth

As I reached the little brown triangle of her electric fur, the musky perfume of my little sister's femininity wafted into my nostrils from its source. My boner throbbed mightily to stake its claim to what my mouth now approached. Yes, I told it, but I'm going to do a little preparation for you. Be patient.

Slowly, teasingly, my lips and tongue continued southward through the shallow thicket of her inverted triangle—tickling, nibbling, caressing. Her hips rolled her pussy upward toward me—in eager anticipation.

I brought my hands up over her hips, down between her thighs, and outward under them. Reaching upward, then, and around, I clasped her hips—her thighs now extending over my shoulders. I extended my tongue until it just touched the little dimple at the head of her cleft. She moaned softly at my touch and tried to roll her pussy forward against my mouth—but my hands on her hips prevented her from doing so.

"Ohh, Charlie! Don't tease me so!" she pleaded. She tried, unsuccessfully, to push me farther down.

I resisted and continued to caress the head of her cleft gently for a few seconds, as she struggled for something better. And then I inserted the tip of my tongue into her furrow, seeking contact with the base of her clit. I found it, and her hips bucked against my hands at the touch—as her hands, still on my head, tried to push me into her.

"God, yes!" she whispered. "More!"

I licked her little button softly; she wriggled under my touch. I dipped my head, extended my tongue, and slowly licked her whole crevice, from bottom to top. She wriggled again, and moaned softly. Tenderly, I worked the tip of my tongue around her clit for a few moments.

"Yes-Yes-Yes! Like that! Oh-God-Oh-God! That's it!" Her hands held me gently against her.

Her soft warmth and her female scent had me in a frenzy of desire. My throbbing cock now insisted on its share. I gave her clit a last few direct licks, bringing her to the edge. And then, in spite of the way she was pressing my face against her shapes and folds, I pulled away from her.

Getting to my knees, I brought my hands up off her hips and moved them up along her sides to rest on the rug beside her. Her legs remained hooked over my shoulders at her knees. As I raised my body, her weight rolled back toward her shoulders, pulling her ass up off the rug.

She knew exactly what I wanted now, and she smiled up at me—wanting the same thing herself. My eyes met hers, and I lost myself in their deep blue once again. But I was not so lost that I didn't know exactly what to do when her hands left my head and reached downward to grasp my cock and direct it toward her entrance. I slammed into her clasping heat, as we moaned our desire and our need for each other.

Almost instantly, we were moving, pounding ourselves against each other, driving her big brother's cock in and out, in and out, in and out of my little sister's channel. We were very close already, and we didn't take long to reach our peaks. I got there first, but only by a few seconds.

We strained against each other, trying to drive my cock as deep as possible into her hot wetness as my semen pulsed and spouted repeatedly into her and she contracted in waves again and again around me. And then came the final ecstatic spasm that signaled the end of my orgasm.

We subsided into a pile of tangled warm flesh as we recovered our senses and our control; we breathed deeply to make up for the air we had forgotten we needed. As my awareness returned, I moved so that she could unhook her legs from my arms. When she'd straightened her legs, I put my weight on my elbows, and I nibbled softly at her neck and ears.

She stroked my back. My cock was still embedded in her, still stiff, and I felt her contracting around it. "I love having your dick in me, Big Brother," she whispered into my ear.

"I love having it in you, too, Little Sister," I whispered back.

I kissed her again, as she continued to stroke me wherever she could reach. When the kiss ended, I shifted my weight onto my left elbow, which allowed me to bring my right hand up to caress her cheek. I raised my head and looked into the deep blue pools of her eyes again. She smiled at me, and I smiled back.

I could feel my cock shrinking, and, knowing that it would soon slip out of her on its own, I withdrew from her body and rolled over onto my back beside her. She rolled with me and came to rest up against me. Her shoulder slid into my armpit and her head came to rest on my shoulder. As she threw her arm and her leg across me, her lips nibbled on my neck.

I stroked the wonderfully smooth skin of her back and her side, and said, "I suppose we ought to head up to bed. It must be well after midnight."

She could see the wall clock from where she lay with her head resting on me. "It's just a few minutes past twelve. We probably should. But I want to snuggle naked with you for a little while before we do. And we'd better make up a story about how we finished the game. They're bound to ask tomorrow."

"Well, that's easy!" I said. "I won—just like always!"

That got me a punch. "Always, my ass! I won the last game we played."

"Well, yes," I said. "Once in a while—once in a great while—you win by accident."

"Liar! Liar! Pants-on-fire!" she whispered into my ear before nibbling on it a bit. "Since you won't admit that I can beat you and I'm not about to agree that you beat me tonight, we'd better just agree that we called it a tie when we got too tired to keep on playing."

"An excellent solution," I said, "to a vexing problem." And I turned my head toward her to kiss her again.

"Speaking of vexing problems," she said when I'd finished and she'd put her head back down on my shoulder, "does it bother you that I've been squeezing Buck and kissing him? Has that been a problem for you?"

"You've been rubbing up against him, too!" I pointed out. My hand continued to stroke her side and her back.

She chuckled. "I have been. And I can feel that it makes his dick hard—just like it makes yours hard when I rub against you. And both of you make me get wet when that happens."

"Why am I not surprised about either?" I asked. "But, no—it doesn't bother me. Which does surprise me. Six weeks ago, the idea of you turning another man on that way—and having him turn you on—would've bothered me a lot. But it doesn't with Buck."

"Is that because Steph turns you on and you want to keep squeezing her? And kissing her?" I could hear the smile in her voice. Her little hand stroked my chest as she spoke, kept stroking when she'd finished.

"I don't think so. Not that she doesn't turn me on, because she does. And I do want to keep squeezing her and kissing her. And rubbing against her. She gives me a big boner, just like you do. And I hope I turn her on—"

"You do," she interrupted. "Unless she's a dead woman."

I smiled at the compliment. "But I don't think that Steph has anything to do with what I feel when I see you in Buck's arms. I think that it doesn't bother me because I know that you love me. I mean you really love me, and I really know it."

I kissed her hair where it had been brushing against my chin. "And Steph doesn't act very much like a dead woman. Does seeing me with her bother you?"

She raised her head for a real kiss. After we'd exchanged a lingering one, she looked me in the eyes and replied, "No, it doesn't. Like you said, I really know that you really love me. You're my guy and my hero, and that won't ever change. And there isn't anything you can do about it—because you're you and you won't do anything that would change it.

"But," she continued, putting her head back down on my shoulder, "we need to be sure that Buck and Steph are okay with it all. I like them too much to hurt either of them."

"You're right about that," I said. "I like them, too, and I wouldn't want to cause them any harm."

"And there's more to it than that," she pointed out. "We were unbelievably lucky to stumble on another brother and sister who are lovers like we are. We need their support and they need ours. We really need to nurture our relationship with them."

I thought about that for a bit, and said, "You're right. I have such a smart little sister. We'll have to talk to them about what's happening with the four of us when we get back to school. I'd already thought we needed to, but now I think it's even more important."

She didn't reply verbally; she just squeezed herself in closer to me and hummed a little moan. We lay there for a few minutes, each enjoying the other's naked body against our own body. Just when I was beginning to think that she might have fallen asleep, she murmured "Big Brother and Little Sister."

"Best friends and lovers." I gave the reply.

And then, in unison: "Now and always!"

"I love you so much," she continued.

"I love you even more," I finished.

She raised her head, looked into my eyes, and kissed me, sweetly, lovingly, lingeringly. And then we headed upstairs to our separate bedrooms.

We talked several times in the next few weeks, as we lay naked in each other's arms after winter morning delights, about Buck and Steph and our relationships with them—both as couples and individuals. But we could come to no insights or conclusions other than the ones we had already reached. Eventually it dawned on us that we really couldn't get any further until we were back at school and we could talk things through with them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The two weeks that followed our Saturday evening tryst in the rec room went by in much the same way that the week preceding Christmas had—except that the New Year's holiday didn't require the frantic preparations that Christmas had. On work days, Mom and Dad left as usual every morning and one of us would get into bed with the other for some morning delight. The long New Year's weekend turned into another sex drought we had to survive. But we made it.

It helped that Mom and Dad went to a New Year's Eve party. They left home around eight, leaving us alone together that Thursday evening. They also left a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator, saying that we were welcome to share it under the conditions that we were not to have friends over and that neither of us was to drive anywhere after drinking it. We had our own reasons, about which Mom and Dad knew nothing, for staying home and for not inviting friends.

Mom and Dad had hardly left when Mindy pressed herself up against me, wiggled, and looked into my eyes as I wrapped my arms around her. We'd gotten a video-taped movie—The Name of the Rose, starring Sean Connery—to watch that evening. But my little sister made it clear that she had another kind of entertainment in mind.

"You do rub me the right way," I said. "Shall we do it now? Or shall we wait until midnight and have our first of the new year?"

"A real man," she said mischievously, "would do both."

"Jeez!" I complained. "You're so randy! We already did it once today—this morning! You'll be the death of me."

She smiled her sly smile. "And the undertaker will need a month to wipe the grin off your face."

She kissed me and wiggled a little more in my arms. There was no question but that there was a disturbance on the men's wear floor—in the trouser department, to be specific; there was also no question but that she knew all about that disturbance. "Let's wait until midnight. If you can, you real man, you."

Dope that I am, I said, "I will wait."

"You won't last until eleven."

"Will too!"

"Wanna bet?" She wiggled against me again. More commotion in the trouser department. "Loser has to eat the winner?"

That caused a near riot in the trouser department.

"It's a bet!" I said, a little too quickly, figuring I'd win even if I lost. I loved eating her pussy.

But she hadn't finished.

"And," she continued after my interruption, "take the winner's turn at the kitchen chores till we go back to school?" (One of Mom's standing rules was that when Mindy and I were home, the two of us were responsible for the after-supper kitchen chores. We hated those chores and we dealt with the responsibility by taking turns. It was her turn that evening, and she hadn't done her job yet.)

"You're on. You've hardened my resolve!" I said in my most confident voice, while gulping inwardly.

She wiggled against me again. Then she gave me that sly smile again, as she said, "That isn't the only thing I've hardened." She chuckled. It was her deep-throated, horny chuckle. I should've known then that I was doomed.

Well, actually, I should've known when I accepted the bet… To the credit of what intelligence I have, I was already beginning to suspect the worst.

"But tonight's chores aren't part of the bet," I said. I saw in her smiling eyes that she'd recognized that additional condition as a transparent admission of defeat. "Get your ass out there and do them before we watch the movie."

"Meanie!" she said with a grimace. I guessed that she'd offered the bet mostly because she didn't want to clean up that evening—and that other evenings' jobs had made their way into the picture as a bonus. She pouted, but she hauled her nicely rounded little ass out to the kitchen and did the chores.

It was almost nine by the time we were ready to start the movie. As she prepared the VCR, I got a couple of Mom's champagne flutes out, opened the bottle, and poured us each some. I put a stopper in the bottle and put it in the refrigerator. Mindy had the opening credits running as I walked into the living room with the two glasses.

I handed her one of the glasses. We looked into each other's eyes and clinked our glasses together. "To us," I said.

"To us," she replied with a smile. "Happy New Year, lover."

I kissed her, and we each took a sip. Still holding the glass, she flowed against me and reached up for another kiss—which I took great pleasure in supplying.

Then we sat down together on the couch, close each other's side. We kicked off our shoes and snuggled on the couch, slowly sipping the champagne, during the opening scenes of the movie. Mindy made sure that her beautiful braless little boobs rubbed up against me as much as possible. Every now and then, her little hand slipped to my groin, where it stroked the lump it found there. Her lips kept finding my neck and ears, where they nibbled.

My own hands kept finding their way to her tits, which they cupped and stroked through her shirt. And, every once in a while, my lips found hers, and we kissed—deeply and lovingly.

She tried to slip my zipper down a couple of times. I stopped her, in the misguided belief that I had a fair chance as long as I kept my pants on. After a bit, I even congratulated myself on how well I was resisting my little sister's efforts to seduce me. Maybe I could last until midnight after all. Certainly until eleven.

We were almost through our first glass of champagne when an unexpected scene in the movie undid me in spite of my resolve. That movie is set in the Fourteenth Century, in a monastery located on a hill above a nearby village. In the course of the story, one of the main characters—Sean Connery's young sidekick—has to hide in order to avoid being caught in a storeroom where he isn't supposed to be.

It turns out that the hiding place he picks is already occupied by a sexy little village wench—who is in the monastery for reasons the story hasn't yet explained and who has even more reason to hide than the sidekick. When the danger of their being discovered is gone, she seduces him. As she does, she rolls onto her back, raises her skirt, and spreads her legs. For an instant, just before the sidekick mounts her, you can see her pussy—right there on the screen.

"Oh, my God!" I said, right after that instant. "Did I just see what I think I saw?"

"I think you did!" Mindy replied.

She was as amazed as I—though, being a straight female, she wasn't particularly interested in a free look at an attractive woman's pussy. As a straight male, whose male part was—on account of Mindy's seductive efforts—decidedly straight at the moment, I was very interested.

I set what little remained of my champagne on the table at the end of the couch, grabbed the remote, fumbled with it, reversed the tape, rolled it back past the vital moment, and started it forward again in slow motion. Mindy set her champagne down on the table at the other end of the couch and her hand found its way to my crotch again, where it caressed and stroked.

Slowly, the VCR wound forward again. Once more, the sidekick discovered the girl sharing his hiding place. The danger of discovery passed and she approached him again. The scene ground forward; she rolled onto her back for a second time. I had my finger on the "Stop" button, ready to freeze the image. The skirt came up again, slowly, slowly, slowly, and, as slowly, her thighs separated. And, at the crucial moment, I pushed the button.

There it was. The seduction was supposedly taking place in a darkened storeroom at night, so the lighting was dim. If we suppose that the wench's head is to the north as she lies on her back, the camera's point of view is that of a person standing twelve feet or so southeast of the events of interest. And I was undeniably looking at a naked pussy.

Between the setting's darkness and the screen's poor resolution, I couldn't make out much detail. My overactive imagination filled in a lot of that, though.

Except for Mindy's, I'd never before seen a naked pussy framed by thighs spread in invitation. And now I saw one on the TV screen. I gawked.

And while my attention had been riveted on the problem of adjusting the VCR so that I could stare, Mindy had surreptitiously pulled my zipper down. I was dimly aware of what she was doing, but its importance had evaded me.

Just as I froze the tape, she reached through the fly of my boxers and took possession of my turgid cock. As I stared at the frozen screen, she started pumping gently. After a few seconds, she bent over and brought her mouth to my crown.

And then my little sister deep-throated me.

She had my full attention.

Between what I had just seen on the screen and what Mindy was then doing to my cock, my goose had been caught, slaughtered, cleaned, plucked, stuffed, put in the oven, basted, and cooked to a golden turn—all in about two minutes.

I lost interest in what I could see on the screen. Now I was obsessed with the pussy—Mindy's pussy—that was right there in the room with me. And I knew that I was going to see it soon, and that she would happily frame it again with thighs spread in invitation.

Mindy's mouth on my cock had practically paralyzed me, but lack of air soon forced her to give up her prize. When she did, I drew her up to me and kissed her. I set the TV remote aside and reached for a tit. Through her shirt, I cupped it, stroked it, took the nipple between thumb and forefinger and rolled gently.