Charlie and Mindy Bk. 04 Ch. 03

We had invested those words with power during our childhood together, and the love we now shared had strengthened that power. The enchantment did its work. She looked at me, as though at a dear friend she hadn't seen in a long time. Though her tears still flowed, I felt new strength in her, and she smiled weakly at me as she said, softly, "Best friends and lovers!"

Her voice strengthened, and so did her smile, as we recited the chorus in unison: "Now and always!"

I found myself smiling, too, now. And I continued, my voice no longer subdued, with the next line: "I love you so much."

She was still sad, and so was I. But no new tears flowed, and I could see that her strength had returned to her. In a firm, clear voice, she said, "I love you even more." And she gave me a real smile as she said it.

She tightened her arms around me, and we kissed, gently and lovingly, our mouths closed. The kiss ended, and our mouths separated. But her little body melted against me, and deep blue love looked up into my eyes as her arms tightened still more about me. I could see that she was far from finished with me.

The quintessential femininity of her soft warm body resting against me forced itself into my awareness. Soft female aromas filled my nostrils, firm little tits rested against me, and the taste of her lips lingered on my lips. My cock, I realized, was responding to her. And I knew that I was far from finished with her.

Together, with a single will, our lips found each other again. We kissed again, gently, lovingly; but this time her tongue entered my mouth. It tussled with my own tongue, and as it did so, it transmitted the magnitude of the desire that had come upon her in the wake of her melancholic wretchedness.

My own desire grew quickly to equal magnitude. As that kiss continued, my hand wormed its way between us, sought out the swell of a breast, cupped it, toyed with it. She moaned into our kiss and tightened the clasp of her arms about me even more—and our tongues chased each other into and out of each other's mouths.

She ended the kiss, and backed her head away to look into my eyes again. I knew, this time, that I was expected to fall into those cobalt abysses, and I did exactly that. As that blue wrapped itself around me, I heard her say, "You're so good to me."

Then, with what remained of my ability to think and act, I caressed the side of her face, and I murmured back, "I need to be good to you. It's my job. You're my sister and my lover, and you're so good to me."

She graced me with another of those 150-watt smiles. And then, shaking off my arms, she stood in front of me. She reached out, and took my left hand into her right hand. Gently, she pulled me upright and led me toward the stairs. She took a step up and stopped with both her feet on the lowest step. She turned toward me again and stopped me before I could begin to step up. Her head was still below the level of mine, but now her lips could reach mine easily as she came into my arms for another kiss.

A second (or was it a year?) later, she broke our embrace, again took my hand in hers, and led me up the stairs and down the hall into our room. Her grasp didn't last for long, probably because I would have to have been a fool—or worse—not to follow her. We left a trail of clothing, up the staircase, through the hall, and across the bedroom floor. We were both bare-ass naked by the time we reached the bed.

As we reached the side of the bed we hadn't bothered to make that morning, she stepped aside and pulled me past her, toward the bed. At her bidding, I turned away from the bed so that it was at my back and we faced each other. For a second, the sight of her naked body enthralled me, and then the sight was gone as she closed in, reached up for my neck with both arms and brought that naked, female body up against my naked male body. My steel-hard shaft slid upward along the soft smooth skin of her lower belly: it throbbed as she trapped it between us when she pressed herself against me and reached up to kiss me again. I took her into my own arms and helped her hold us together as I returned that kiss.

When we'd ended our kiss, she looked up at me. She smiled again, as she said, "He feels so good when he pulses against me like that."

Then she released my neck, and, feeling her step back from me, I released her from my grasp. She took a single step backward, placed her hands on my chest, and pushed me. I was only inches from the bed; it tripped me—as she'd intended—and, with a whoop, I toppled backward onto it. Automatically, I spread my knees so that I wouldn't kick her when my feet shot up off of the floor as I landed.

Before I could recover, she'd stepped up between my legs and taken my cock into her right hand. Bending slowly forward, she looked again into my eyes. She smiled at me, devilishly, and she said, "Look what I found! My big brother's cock! And it's so nice and big and hard!"

I was going to point out that she'd made it that way, but before I could say anything, she'd buried my entire length in her mouth. And while she held me there in the softness, the moistness, and the heat of her mouth, I could think about nothing else, so there was nothing to say. Not that I'd have been able to say it if there had been.

Time became meaningless. A thousand years (or was it a millisecond?) later, she had to breathe, and she released me from that welcome trance. My paralysis was gone; and, free again to move and to act, I sat up and pulled her down onto her back. As she fell onto the bed, I rolled onto my side and threw my arm about her waist. When she stopped bouncing, I brought my mouth to a nipple, and latched onto it. Guarding my teeth with my lips, I used my tongue to force her nipple up against the roof of my mouth. I pressed it there while I sucked. She moaned deeply, and, now, she was paralyzed. After a bit, I relaxed my lips and let her nipple slide out of my mouth—though I continued to suck gently as it left.

And I heard her say, "Oh, that's so good, Charlie," as my mouth trailed—kissing all the way—down the mound of her boob, across the center of her chest, and up the other one. When I reached that nipple, I gave it the same treatment I'd given the other one. Another deep moan escaped her, and her hips rocked slightly.

When I released her nipple from my mouth, I turned and stood up beside the bed, facing her. She tried to sit up to face me, but I kept a hand on her chest so she couldn't. When she saw that I wouldn't let her sit up, she relaxed, and, putting a hand on each of her knees, I pulled her thighs apart to expose the center of her femininity to my view. I gave her my own evil smile, and I said, "Look what I found! My little sister's pussy! And it's so nice and hot and wet! But I'll bet I can make it hotter and wetter!"

I wrapped an arm about each of her legs, just below her knees, and I pulled her toward me. She slid easily along the bed, and I stopped pulling just as her ass reached the edge of the bed. I grinned hungrily at her as I knelt between her spread legs. She giggled and grinned expectantly back at me. "I'll bet you're going to!" I heard her say as I brought my head forward and down.

I'd like to say I dove into her muff. But almost all of her bush was in the inverted little brown triangle at the base of her abdomen and above her mound—so it wouldn't be technically true. But my tongue certainly dove into the folds of her inner lips. It played there for a moment, and she went limp. She hummed a little moan, and she folded her legs so that her feet came to rest on my back.

I moved my tongue up along her moist crevice, slowly, wiggling all the way, toward the juncture of those inner lips—where they hooded her clitoris. Just before I reached that little pink jewel, I reversed direction and, still wiggling the tip of my tongue, worked my way downward. I kept going until her opening lay right beneath my tongue—and I thrust my face against her and extended my tongue into her. She went rigid at the sudden penetration. Gradually, her rigidity softened, and her hips began to rock again. She moaned repeatedly, and her hands came to the back of my head, where they gently held my mouth against the sensitive flesh I loved to touch.

I withdrew my tongue from her sheath, and worked it again along her inner lips to her clit. This time, I didn't stop when I reached her little nubbin. I engaged it directly with lips and tongue, tweaking it gently, nudging it softly, rubbing it carefully. She moaned and groaned. My tweaks and nudges grew in intensity as the motion of her hips became more and more intense, less and less controlled.

And then, her moans and her groans became indistinguishable. They turned into shrieks, and her hips pumped her rhythmically against me until she arched her back so that her clit pushed firmly against my tongue.

I kept my tongue moving, digging, stroking, until, finally, her hips sank back onto the bed. Then her right hand came down between me and herself to protect her now-too-sensitive clit from further stimulation; "No-no-no… It's too sensitive for more," she begged.

I rose, picked up her legs, rotated her body, and released them, so that she lay, limply, breathing deeply, on her back. And I lay down on my side, beside her and facing her. I put my arm around her waist and drew us closer together. Her nipples, I knew, weren't too sensitive for more, so I released her waist and brought my hand to one of them. And I brought my mouth—still wet with her juices—to the other. I sucked it again, as I had done earlier, while my thumb and forefinger rolled the other. She sighed deeply. Her hips rocked again, and she said, weakly, "That always feels so good when I've just come. It almost makes me feel like I'm still coming."

I stopped working on her nipple to look her in the eyes, smile, and say, "I know." And then I went to work kissing her neck softly while I continued to play with a nipple.

Her breathing slowed, and, at length, she came back to me as she recovered from the upheaval I'd brought her. Her little hands came to my head and brought me up to look again into those deep blue eyes. She smiled at me, and said, "You haven't come yet, have you?"

"I cannot tell a lie," I smiled back at her. "I haven't."

Her smile deepened. "Okay, George Washington Pervert. How do you want me? Hand? Mouth? Pussy? Ass?"

"We got your pussy all hot and wet," I said. "It would be a shame to waste all that effort."

The smile was now a grin. "It would, wouldn't it?" she said, reaching up to kiss me.

As we kissed, I brought my knees up so that the weight of the lower part of my body rested on them. At the same time, I placed my hands to either side of her. She brought her own legs up and apart as I moved between them. I felt my hard cock caress her left thigh as I moved. It came to rest against her furrow. As I looked again into compelling blue, she reached down between us and grasped me. I raised my hips a bit more, and she guided me into her opening as I lowered myself slowly again. My cock slid smoothly into her body.

We lay there unmoving for a moment, looking deeply into each other's eyes.

Still looking into my eyes, still smiling, she whispered, "I love to feel you in me." And I felt her sheath tighten around me, relax, tighten again.

"Mmmm! Pussy bites," I said. "My favorite thing."

She wrapped her legs around my thighs and drew me deeper into her. She reached up with her arms, and wrapped them around my torso. And I felt a series of gentle pussy bites. With each, I shuddered and my cock pulsed again.

"I like them, too," she said. "Especially when they make you throb inside me."

My hips began to drive me in and out of her, in and out, in and out, slowly at first, but with increasing speed. Her hips rocked their response, helping to pump up the pressure within me. The touch of her loving body against me and the driving friction of her sweet channel on my pounding cock soon pushed me to my peak; my back arched and my muscles stiffened as, again, the viscous white heat of my love pulsed through my rod and deep into my little sister.

Some time after my last spasm had ended, I became aware that I lay upon her, my weight still on my elbows. Her arms and her legs were still wrapped tightly about me. My head lay on the bed beside hers; alternately, she cooed nonsense to me and nibbled on my right ear. Every third nibble or so, another tremor ran through me, causing my hips to thrust my still stiff cock into her depths again. And I realized then that those thrusts brought little tremors to her, and caused her to contract around me again.

I announced my returning awareness to her by turning my head and nibbling on her ear. Then I raised my head and looked again into her eyes. Deep blue smiled at me again, and she said, "I really like to make love with you when I don't need to come. It still feels so good, and I get to watch you and feel you come inside me."

"That's why I like it," I said, "when we both come and then we keep going until you come again. I get to watch your face, and feel you shudder and your pussy squeeze me."

She reached up and kissed me again. "I think it's supposed to be that way," she said, then, smiling at me.

I thrust into her a couple of times, and I said, "More?"

She smiled up at me. She unwrapped her arms and her legs from me, and said, "No, I don't need more now. That was the second time today, already! And we haven't even had lunch yet!"

I pulled myself out of her and rolled over, onto my back. She rolled part way with me, and came to rest—as almost always when we'd just made love—on her side, leaning against me. Her shoulder again fit into my armpit, and her head came to rest on my shoulder. Her arm and left leg found their usual resting places on my body. I felt the gentle rhythm of her breathing against me again, and our juices—as always—seeped out of her where her pussy rested against me.

"I like to feel you against my thigh," I said as my left arm wrapped around her to hold her close.

She wiggled her hips a bit, and her pussy slid around in the pool of slippery cum that had flowed out of it.

"I like to feel myself smush around on you in our sloppy wet mess," she whispered toward my ear.

We lay there for a while, enjoying the intimate closeness of our naked bodies almost as much as we enjoyed the intimate closeness of our naked souls. And then my stomach, which must have heard her remind me that we hadn't had lunch yet, announced its dissatisfaction with an unmistakable growl.

"Uh-oh!" she said. "I mentioned lunch."

"Some things," I said, "are more important than lunch."

She reached up and kissed my neck. "A few things," she said with a little giggle. "A very few things. Shall we get some clothes on and go get some?"

"That's a plan," I agreed. I gave her a good squeeze and a kiss on the lips. She returned them.

We rolled out of bed and, retraced our steps out of the bedroom, through the hall, and down the stairs. We found our clothes, here and there, right where we had left them. We put them back on as we found them, grinning shamelessly at each other. Then we found our way (we didn't have to look hard) into the kitchen and got to work on lunch—amazed to find that it was nearly two.

As we were throwing some sandwiches together for lunch, Mindy thought of our friends. "What do you think we should tell Buck and Steph?" she asked.

I'd been thinking about them and their circumstances lately. Some of the things that they had said and done had led me to believe that their financial situation wasn't quite as comfortable as they wanted us to think.

"Well," I said, "I think that they're on a really tight budget—even tighter than they've let on. I don't think they have as much money as they've tried to get us to believe that they have. But they've always shared everything that's theirs with us. I think we should do the same."

"That's how I feel. But they're so proud and so independent. Do you think they'll let us?" she wanted to know.

"That'll be hard—especially for Buck," I answered. "He won't want to accept what he'll think of as charity."

She replied, "It's weird, isn't it. Both of them are so generous with what little they have. But neither of them would let us be generous to them now that we have so much. So we'd better not let on about how much we really have."

"Yes," I said. "We'll have to be very circumcised about it."

Suddenly, she was laughing in the middle of a serious discussion. I couldn't figure out why. She put down the bread she was spreading mayonnaise on and turned to me. Her laughter deepened when she saw my blank expression. She moved over and took me into her arms. She was still laughing as she squeezed me and looked up into my eyes. Naturally, when I'd seen her coming, I'd freed my own hands from the sandwich I was working on so that I could squeeze back.

"I think you meant 'circumspect,' Charlie," she said through the laughter that continued to bubble up in her. "You were circumcised when you were a tiny little baby. And I'll kill anyone who tries to do that to me."

And then, exerting some self-control, she quieted herself and reached up for a kiss.

When the kiss had ended, I said, "Hunh?"

She smiled at me; I felt the giggles still rising in the little body she was still holding against me. "Just don't be obsidian about that particular word choice, Charlie." And she returned to the sandwich she'd been fixing. She was still giggling every now and then.

At first I had no idea about what so amused her, but her use of the word "obsidian" told me something about what I must have done. I looked up the words later, and I found out that I really had meant "circumspect." And, when I made that discovery, I knew that if she wanted to kill someone who tried to circumcise her, she'd have to get in line behind me. Maybe I'd leave enough of a corpse for her to desecrate.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The rest of the day passed slowly. We continued to share our sorrow with each other, but time had already begun to soften the worst effects of that sorrow. We shared, also, the newfound joy of our inheritance—not yet even realizing just how ample it was.

Supper, as you might imagine, was late that night. We watched some television afterward—I don't even remember what it was we saw, except that we did stay up for the news and the weather. So it was nearly eleven that evening when we finally went to bed, together, in the king-sized bed. We managed, somehow, to find each other in the vast darkness.

But, I'll admit, I'd have been surprised if we hadn't.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Our remaining days in Fort Collins passed quickly. The twins had no phone—just as there was no phone in the house I shared with George, et al, at school—but we wrote to them near the end of March, to let them know that we were well and that our spirits were improving. And, because it was so, we told them that we missed them and longed to see them again. (Saying such things is more than just a simple infraction of the Fundamental Code, but Mindy's name was on the letter, too, and I figured that made it okay.)

We stayed in contact with Quent and Amanda, making sure that they, too, knew that we were well and recovering. Nor did we forget that our loss had been theirs, too, and that they needed to be in touch with us as they, too, healed.

This was the first period of any length when we could be alone, in privacy, with each other without having to worry about what the world would think of us. We shared ourselves with each other—not just physically, but spiritually as well—more deeply than ever before. And we found that the way our love for each other deepened was even better than we could ever have imagined.