Cold Sister

Betsy nodded, her face very serious. She reached down for the bottom of her sweatshirt. She pulled it off, revealing a light blue tee. Betsy took that off as well. I was reminded of the old kid's magician trick of revealing an endless rainbow of ribbons. How far down did all this go?

Finally, Betsy was down to just her bra. It was pink and lacy, nothing racy at all. A full cup that pretty much covered whatever chest my sister might have had. But what was revealed was more than exciting enough: my sister's surprisingly fit, flat tummy and the beginnings of curvy hips. I was beginning to realize that Betsy's body was something far more exciting than what I'd surmised based on her all-covering outfits.

"Hi," Betsy said, seeing me stare.

"Sorry," I said.

A cute little smirk snuck across Betsy's lips. "Let's get back to it, OK?"

I nodded.

The little break had not flagged my flagpole erection one bit. I was at full mast and ready, at any moment, for the big, final fireworks show.

Betsy licked her palm again and started stroking. I think she could sense that the end was near because she started working me with a confident abandon. Her movements almost wild as she worked me over.

All that stimulation -- the build of the last week, the makeout sessions, seeing Betsy nearly topless -- it all came to a head in five, quick strokes.

"Bets," I got out the warning just in time, "Gonna..."

My cock swelled. My balls leapt. A fountain of fertility rocketed out of my cock, filling me with ecstatic pleasure. I'm pretty sure I shouted as it went -- the release of endorphins, of my copious cum, overwhelming.

As I writhed in pleasure, I distantly heard my sister cry out. "Oh! So hot."

The pleasure gripped me too hard for me to notice anything more. All I could feel was every successive burst of semen. Each a slightly lower peak than the last. Finally, it subsided, and I was able to look up at my sister.

She was sitting in the same position as before. Her eyes were distant. I could see my spend had truly spattered her. She was covered with my white stuff. But rather than be disgusted (as most of the girls I'd gone with would be), Betsy was running her hands through it, idly.

In fact, I realized, she was doing more than that. My sister was rubbing my sperm right into her bare skin. Like slathering on lotion. She lovingly spread my spend over her tummy, making sure every bit of it was sucked up.

"It's so warm," she said, repeating those words again and again. Like a kind of mantra. "I didn't know it would feel so warm."

"You OK?" I asked.

Betsy nodded, absently. "You?"

"Oh yes," I said. I hadn't meant it to come out like that, but it had. Fortunately, Betsy just giggled.

"I'm sorry," I said, for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

"Don't you dare apologize," Betsy said, "This is awesome. I didn't realize your cum would be like this. It's like covering myself in liquid heat."

"98.7 degrees, or thereabouts," I said.

"I'm so comfy now, I don't think we even need to kiss anymore," Betsy said.

"Oh," I said. Unable to hide my disappointment. Did I love that handjob? Damn straight I did. But I felt like I was missing out if we skipped the kissing part.

"Don't worry," Betsy said, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek, "I'll need more warming up tomorrow."

My sister practically skipped out of my room, grabbing her sweatshirt on the way out. I had no trouble sleeping that night, that's for sure.

*

"It's not fair," Betsy said, slapping her thighs like a little girl who was just told she couldn't get ice cream.

We were both sitting on the couch. My parents were milling around the house, so we'd yet to initiate our evening activities. Instead, we gave each other little teasing touches underneath the blanket. Pokes to the side and strokes to the shoulders. Nothing untoward.

I'd put the TV on again, but neither of us even pretended to watch. Instead, we enjoyed each other's company. The way we played and flirted, it felt more like an evening with a girlfriend than a sibling. I was certainly fine with that.

Betsy, however, was full of complaints. Despite her discovery from the previous night, she'd woken up as cold as always. And it really bothered her for some reason.

"In the moment, covered in your stuff. I mean, it felt better than any sweater I'd ever worn."

"Mom. Dad," I said, "In the kitchen."

"I want to feel that way all the time," Betsy continued, ignoring my warning. "And I don't think I can jerk you off every three hours. Can I?"

As much as that thought seemed temtping in the moment, I knew my eyes were too big for my testicles. I'd be ready to die after three days of that, no doubt.

"What if I, you know, returned the favor?" I asked.

I was very much interested in that idea, let me tell you. Just the idea of seeing my sister's parts was enticement enough. But getting to touch them, bring her to the same peak she'd brought me, that was an amazing thought.

"Doesn't work," Betsy said. She gave me a wan smile. "Trust me, I've tried."

"We're going to bed, kids," Dad said, leading my mom up the stairs. They gave us a wave, like we were a normal pair of siblings having a regular evening instead of a couple waiting to make out like the horny kids we truly were.

"I wonder if they're going to do it," Betsy mused.

"I try not to think about such things," I said, "It kind of ruins my interest in doing them, myself."

"Don't do that then," Betsy said, "I need your little soldier to be ready to go into battle as soon as possible."

"Little?!" I asked, pretending to be upset.

Betsy rolled her eyes at me. "Boys," she said. She took a deep breath. "Trust me, you're plenty big enough. I don't know how it compares but based on how I can barely get my fingers around it. I mean, that's a pretty good sign that I shouldn't be shoving it anywhere else."

"Probably not," I said.

Was I having fun with what we were doing? You bet. Was I still very much aware that it was with my sister? Also a stone cold lock. I knew there were lines that we shouldn't cross. So, all for the better that we agreed we weren't going there.

"Speaking of which, up to your bedroom?" Betsy asked. I nodded, far too eagerly.

Both of us rumbled into my room, shutting the door behind us. I stripped off my clothes, but rather than bother with the pjs, I stayed naked. I climbed onto my bed and lay down on top of the covers.

Betsy, to my surprise, stripped off her sweatshirt and other layers above her waist. She was wearing another full cup bra, a blue one. I couldn't tell too much, but it sure seemed like her chest greatly outstripped her flat, tight tummy.

Betsy crawled onto the bed, like a stalking cat, and started to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around her back, feeling her bare skin. It felt electric, illicit, like I was getting away with something even more forbidden than making out with my sister. I had access to something that no one had ever seen, let alone felt.

Betsy writhed against me. She held my head, tight, as she pressed her lips to mine. My hardness, naturally, slotted itself between her soft, sweatpants-covered legs. My sister ground herself into my cock.

Finally, we broke apart. Betsy gave me a wild grin, then sat up. Without warning, she grabbed my dick and started stroking it up and down. Despite my release the day before, I was no less hard and ready.

"I wish it lasted longer," Betsy said, thoughtfully, while she worked me up and down.

It took me a moment to realize she meant the heat of my ejaculate, and not anything else.

"There's not much I can do about that," I said.

"No, I know," Betsy said, "I just feel that with the hugging and kissing. Now this. We're so close to solving this puzzle, I swear."

"Have you tried using the boomerang together with the torch and the bombs?"

"Well, clearly I've found the Master Sword," Betsy said, eyeing my dick. Her face turned super serious. "I want to be warm. For one day. Is that really too much to ask?"

"I don't know what else there is I can do," I said. As if lying back and letting my sister give me a handjob was the absolute peak of my efforts.

"It feels so good on my skin, but after it just..." Betsy stopped mid-sentence. Mid-stroke. "Huh."

"What's up?"

"I have an idea," Betsy said, "Will you let me try it?"

I eyed her, nervously. There were lots of paths Betsy could be taking us down, I realized, and most of them did not end well. I had the upsetting picture in my head of her tying me to a skateboard, lighting a rocket, and sending me down a steep hill to my doom. As if my sister were Wile E. Coyote or something.

"It's not bad," Betsy said, sensing my apprehension. "In fact, I'm pretty sure you'll like it."

"I'm pretty sure the last time you told me that, you tried to feed me a mud pie."

Betsy rolled her eyes and exhaled, loudly. "Just lie back, OK?"

I did as I was told. My sister started off the right way, she leaned down and kissed me on the mouth. Again, I was overwhelmed by it. Not only the feel of her lips but the strawberry scent of her hair. The way it felt very much like I was kissing a woman and yet also smooching my sister. A sickening twist not unlike going down the first hill on the rollercoaster. Scary and fun. Fun because it's scary.

Betsy let her lips drift lower, like marking a trail so she could find her way back later. My ears and my neck. Down the center of my chest. As her mouth got closer to my dick, it became pretty clear what she had in mind. And this, well, it was way better than a mudpie (better than being sent down a hill on a rocket skateboard, too).

"Ohhh, Bets," I groaned as my sister's lips made contact with my cock. It was only a kiss, but already I was aching for more.

My sister slowly pecked her way around my pole. She dabbed her tongue against my shaft.

"That's nice," she said, smacking her lips, "My girlfriends said it was gross, but I kinda like it. Very man-y."

"You should give it a really good taste to be sure," I said. Again, I didn't know what part of my brain was sending out these stupid sayings, but the rest of my mind did not approve.

Betsy gave my comment the disdainful look it deserved. But then she gripped my dick and steered it into her mouth.

"Oh yeah, that's much better," she said.

I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. I was too enveloped in bliss to care. The warm, wetness of Betsy's mouth slowly engulfed me. I was no longer capable of doing anything but lying back and making incomprehensible noises.

Betsy slurped up and down my shaft. Her innocent face contorted around my cock into the sexiest expression imaginable. Her mouth gaped open. Her eyes wide and eager.

"Ummm," she said, as she shluck, shluck, shlucked up and down my dick.

My sister didn't need instruction this time. It was like she took what she learned with her hand and simply applied it to her mouth. She added little flourishes as she went. Twisted and swirled her tongue in all the right ways. But it was more than her actions. Her enthusiasm, her affection, it took everything over the top.

Natural born cocksucker sounds like an insult, but I'm telling you my sister should have it engraved on her wall. Calligraphed onto sheepskin. She was that fucking amazing on her first go.

Which was a good thing, because I was quickly losing my mind. Words devolved into sensations. All I could do was lie back and drool while my sister did her thing on my dick. She started sliding her fist up and down along with her mouth and I was down to a puddle.

"Warn me before he spits," Betsy said. Weirdly casual, like telling me to watch out for jalapenos on the nachos.

"Uhhhhh." I swear that was a whole sentence about what an amazing job my little sister was doing. On how lucky I felt to have this experience for even a second, let alone for longer. A deep and entrancing monologue on the nature of love and its expression through lips and tongue given life over my cock.

"Seriously," Betsy said, "I want to be prepared when it happens."

"I...uh..."

Betsy took her free hand and cradled my balls. Right there, it was all over.

"Cuh... Uh... Cumming. Oh Bets! I'm cuh--mming!"

The orgasm that erupted from me was unfamiliar. Unlike any pleasure I'd known before. Not only because of the power of the whole experience, but due to what my baby sister did. She didn't just open her mouth and accept my spend. She didn't sit back and allow it to happen like every other woman I'd ever been with.

My beautiful Betsy hollowed her cheeks and sucked the orgasm out of me. Straight up pulled my sperm right out of my penis -- like I was a milkshake, and my cock was the straw. The pleasure of it so intense it was almost painful.

Betsy giggled happily as she drank me down. She gave me an experience so intense I died, went to heaven, and got a high-five from St. Peter before my soul dropped back into my body. Meanwhile, my sister cooed and preened. Gulp gulp gulp. Happy little girl.

"That was awesome!" she cried out.

I was barely able to speak. "Yuh. Yeah," I said. I tried to sit up but fell backward onto the bed. I felt like Cary Elwes after The Machine sucks an entire year out of him in The Princess Bride.

Betsy sat back and rubbed her tummy. "I kind of miss having it on my skin after," she said, "I don't suppose you could gin up another load?"

"Oh fuck," I said, my head lolled on the pillow, "Give me a sec."

"No that's OK," Betsy said. She leaned in and gave me a big cummy kiss on the lips. I didn't care. Fuck she looked so beautiful in that moment. A little froth of white coating her mouth. "I don't want to drain my new heat source now that I've finally figured it out."

Betsy tried to slip out of bed, as I'd been bidding her for the past week. But at the last second, I shot my arm out and pulled her back to me.

"Whoa!" she cried out as she tumbled over me. Still, I would not let go. "Oh. OK, I guess I'm staying for a while."

I squeezed my sister close. Held her as tight as I could. My post-orgasm euphoria slipped away to cold rationality. It didn't matter. I kept Betsy there for as long as she'd let me. Eventually, distant through sleep, I felt her slip away.

*

I didn't see my sister at all the next morning. It was Saturday, and she texted me she'd be at the bookstore all day, finding the supplies to start her freshman year at FAU. Yes, we were going to be at the same school. It seemed like so much of a better thing after the week we'd had.

I couldn't help myself, though. There was no way for me to ask politely, but I had to know. So, I sent her a fire symbol followed by a question mark.

Betsy wrote back: Almost all night!

Well, I guess that answered my question well enough.

For a bit I thought about also going to the bookstore to get the stuff I needed, but I didn't want Betsy to think I was being clingy. So, instead, I holed up in my bedroom and played games. The house was quiet but comfortable. Again, I wondered if maybe I should stay home for another year. Even though I didn't hear my family moving around, just knowing they might be there was enough.

When I took a break for lunch, I found my father waiting for me in the kitchen. He gave me a dark stare and my heart sank. Wordless, he gestured for me to take a seat on a stool over by the breakfast bar.

"I know what you're doing," he said.

Every organ I had raced for the floor in one sickening, awful drop.

"You do?" I choked out. My voice was so thin, I feared it would crack.

"Sneaking around," Dad said, "Think you're so clever."

Dad wasn't a big man. He was thin and short with wispy brown hair. Unlike me, Mom, and Betsy, though, he had these icy blue eyes. When he was angry, they burned right through you. And that, along with his hook nose and thin lips, managed to create an appearance that could send a demon back to hell with its tail between its legs.

My father didn't have to threaten. All he had to do was stare me down and I swear I felt the pee trying to escape down my legs.

"Dad, I can explain."

"Where. Are. My. Cookies?" Dad said.

"What?" I tried to sit back, but forgot I was on a stool and nearly tumbled over. I grabbed the counter to steady myself.

"Don't play dumb," Dad said, "You know I have a secret stash of cookies buried deep in the cabinet. And now they're gone. My little circles of chocolate happiness." I swear, he looked like he was about to cry.

"I didn't touch your cookies, Dad," I said.

My father eyed me, suspicion shading his face.

"I don't even like them," I said, "But there are other people in this house who might also be aware of your secret stash."

My Dad cocked his head. "Debra," he said. My mom's name. I nodded.

He marched out of the kitchen, like I wasn't even there. I slumped onto the stool. Goddamn but that had been close.

*

"We have to stop," I told my sister when she got home.

Betsy arched her eyebrow at me. We were sitting on my bed. I was back in my pj bottoms, and I'd stopped my sister from taking off her sweatshirt. I'd spent the whole day obsessing over what had happened. I didn't want my time with my sister to end, but I'd seen how it could come to a finish and I didn't want that even more.

"We almost got caught today," I said.

"Dad got mad over some cookies," Betsy said, "That's not 'almost got caught.'"

"Still though," I said, "I got the sense of how things could go. What it would be like. For a moment I was sure we were found out and it was awful, Bets."

"Brandon, I was warm almost all night last night," Betsy said, "For the first time in, like, ever. And you can't tell me you didn't like how it happened, either."

"It was amazing," I conceded.

"Wait, really?" Betsy got pulled out of her monologue. Her brown eyes practically glowed. "I mean, I'm not dumb. I know you enjoyed it. But I figured that was, you know, normal. I've only ever done it that one time."

"It was the best I've ever had," I said, "Not even close."

"Better than Mel?" Betsy said. She looked like she was about to accept the Nobel Prize (which, to be fair, if they gave one for blowjobs, she'd probably already have five of them stacked up in her dresser drawer). "You said she was all sex all the time. Seriously?"

"It's more than the physical-ness of it," I said, "It's the connection we share. You know? So yeah, it was better than Mel or Julie or Kim."

"Wait, you got a bj from Kim Sanders?"

"It was after prom and she was drunk," I said, shrugging. It was not my proudest moment, being honest.

Betsy eyed me for a moment. Like she was thinking everything through. Seriously, I'd never seen a girl get so happy about sucking someone off. But my sister had different standards, I suppose.

"So why should we stop?" Betsy said, "I've been getting warm and you're getting, well, something pretty great too. It's not like it's wrong."

I gave my sister a questioning look. Actually, I was pretty sure that what we were doing was the definition of 'wrong.' It says so in the bible and everything. Not to mention local bylaws.

Look, did I want our time together to stop? If I truly interrogated myself the answer would be 'no.' But I was scared by what had happened and I think I was hoping that Betsy might be able to convince me that we could continue. That she'd rationalize our wrongdoing in some way and I could pretend to be persuaded. I know that's selfish, but it's where I was.

"We're just helping each other out," Betsy said with a shrug, "Siblings do that all the time."

"I doubt our parents would feel the same way," I said. Or our friends. Or the local constabulary. Or God.

"If it was romantic then sure, it would be an issue," Betsy explained to me, patiently, like talking to a child. "Do you love me?"