I Want to Go to The Beach

I thanked him profusely, and we finished the transaction. Then he made a quick sketch on how to run the gas fireplace if the power went out, and where the room was.

The owner glanced up at the sign stating CHECK OUT AT 10:30 AM. "Check out is at one PM," he said with a slight smile. "Have a good night." With that, he walked through the door into the back.

I took a giddy Kaleigh by the hand, and we went back to the car. After parking, we walked quickly down a small path, hurrying to get out of the rain. Rather than a conventional motel, this one had small, individual cabins. They looked weather-worn, but it was good beach weather-worn rather than shabby. We found our room and rushed in.

The smell hit us first. Beach cabins -- good ones, at least -- have a particular scent: a little musty, especially in the off season, but not unpleasant. Add in the salt air, the unique smell of old books, and something else -- something undefinable that says, "You're at the beach." I turned on a light, and we both gawked.

The room was a long rectangle. The entranceway had a bench for taking off your sandy shoes and hooks for your coats. The carpet was brown and gold, thick, and warm-looking. To the left was a big gas fireplace, and to the right a small kitchenette, with a separated little nook holding a small dining table and two chairs. There were some overstuffed chairs and a couch, and another room, fully open to the living room, that held a king sized bed. All of that was very nice, but it wasn't the pièce de résistance.

Facing the ocean were three massive windows, filing most of the western wall. They looked over the beach, which was right at our door. I could see the local landmark, a massive stone called Haystack Rock, just north of our cabin. Stretching from wall to wall was the ocean, wild in the wind and rain. I could hear the breakers slamming onto the sand, even over the howl of the wind. Nature, wild and uncaring, was right outside our haven for the night.

Kaleigh gravitated to the windows. She was silent as she put her hand to the glass, mesmerized.

I unloaded the extra candles onto a small table, then went over and lit the fireplace. It was gas, so with a flick of a switch fire leapt into a cheery dance and the room started to warm almost immediately. Which was expeditious, as the lights took that moment to flicker and die. I found the lanterns and candles, and within moments, the room was bathed by several softly glowing flames.

Kaleigh hadn't said a word; she just continued to watch the sea roil and seethe. I walked over, and she turned into me, burying her face into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and just held her, silently. When she looked up at my face, there were tears running from her blue eyes, but she was smiling. "It's perfect," she whispered. Her eyes were soft, as was her little smile; so, too, were her next words. "Make love to me, big brother. Make love to me."

I brought my mouth to hers for a gentle, slow kiss. In that kiss, there was passion, but patience as well. We were safe from the storm. We were warm from the fire. We had time -- all the time in the world -- for just one night.

I turned her to face the ocean, standing right in front of the windows. The glass was cold, but the fire had heated the room, so it was its own pleasure rather than a discomfort. Standing behind her, I reached up and stroked her fire-bright hair, starting at her forehead, over and back to run down each thick braid. When I reached their ends, I drew one up and untied the cloth band she used to hold it, then gently unbraided her hair until it lay in waves against her hoodie. I repeated the process with the remaining braid, then slid my fingers from underneath, running them through her thick tresses. I ran my fingers through her long hair, and she leaned her head back into it, luxuriating. I could see her reflection in the window, her eyes closed and her face serene. I made long, soft passes, over and over, feeling the hair over my skin, between my fingers, and over my arms. Kaleigh was practically purring. I gathered two handfuls of her hair and held them to my face, breathing deep, inhaling her essence -- once, twice, three times -- and I felt her shudder in response.

Letting her hair fall, I stepped back for a moment. There was something so primal about filling myself with her scent, and I needed a moment to regain control -- I wanted to make this last.

I stepped in close again, molding my body to her back. I slid my hand over her side, across her tight belly, and up, between her breasts, to grasp the pull of her zipper. Holding my hand out so that it wasn't in contact with her body, I slowly -- oh, so slowly -- drew the fastener down the teeth. It was so slow, in fact, that I could hear each one disengage individually. "Keep your hands on the window," I breathed, more than spoke, into her ear. She nodded, and her hair brushed my chin.

After what felt like a million years, I finished unzipping the hooded jacket. "Arms down," I whispered. I stroked my hands across her shoulders as I reached around to take the open halves of the jacket. I took my time sliding it down her arms and back. When I was done, she returned her hands to the window without my asking. I put the jacket on a chair.

Stepping back up to her, I pulled her hair to the side so that it fell over her chest, then ran my lower lip up the back of her neck. She gasped and arched her neck, and I smiled at her reaction. I began to gently stroke and touch the back of her neck with my nose and my open lips, breathing my warm breath on her skin. She was sighing and gasping in turns.

I set my hands loosely on her hips, over her thick sweatpants, and continued to nuzzle the back of her neck. I slid both hands forward along her waist until they came together at the tie. I worried at the knot so subtly and so gradually that it almost seemed to be falling apart on its own. I paused just before it did; a moment later I knew I was still on the right track. Kaleigh shuddered in response, all at once and everywhere, before standing still again. I could hear her breathing; it was coming faster and getting more ragged. I hooked my thumbs in the waist of her sweatpants and drew them down an inch at a time.

"Are you alright?" I whispered in her ear.

"Fuck," she whispered back. "Yes. I hate you right now."

I ran my tongue along the curve of her ear before I bent my knees, still sliding her sweats over her shorts, then down her strong, smooth legs. When I had drawn them all the way down, I picked up one foot, slipping off her shoe and sock, then pulling it out of the pants before setting it back on the thick carpet. I repeated it on the other side, then tossed the sweats and returned to my labors.

I stood pressing against her again, and my lips found the back of her neck once more, flittering and touching, but never really kissing. I could hear her smile in her gasps as I rested my hands on her hips again. She was muttering curses very low under her breath as I leisurely slid them forward again, this time trailing my thumb over her the skin above her shorts. I found the ties, and was disappointed to learn they were not tied together. I had loved how she'd reacted when the tension of that last knot had released. Instead, I hooked my thumbs over the waistband right above her thighs so that as I drew them down, my fingertips brushed the length of her legs. I smiled as I listened to her cursing increase as she tried not to move or squirm. I lifted each foot from the shorts as well, then stepped back.

Holy shit, I thought. My sister tended to bikini briefs, or sometimes high-waisted ones, and they all looked sexy as fuck on her tightly muscled ass, but she had upped the ante for our little trip. She was standing there in a tight t-shirt and white thong panties. Laying just below her little dimples of Venus, outlining her amazing ass cheeks, they were a beautiful line of white that slowly disappeared into the valley between.

"How's the view?" she asked, not looking back, but shifting her hips back and forth once for my benefit.

"Incredible," I said quietly as I tried to think of ways to trump her. Standing right behind her, so she couldn't see me reflected in the window, I quickly dropped my sweats and underwear. I extended my arm over her shoulder and dropped my boxers in front of her as I stroked the head of my cock over her naked ass cheeks.

"Jesus fuck," she whispered.

"Keep watching the waves, little sister," I whispered back. I put my hands at her waist again, just resting them there, but with the high rise of her shirt, and the low waist of her thong, my fingers were barely brushing her skin. I felt her twitch and jerk a little with each touch. "Watch the waves."

I stepped closer, and my cock slid up the crack of her ass. She inhaled deeply, but didn't otherwise respond. I lifted my hands from her hips to seize the lower hem of her shirt. I could hear her curse again as, rather than lifting it, I started to slowly roll it up over her torso, brushing her skin with my fingertips as I did so. Past her flat belly, to her ribs, up and up it went. When I got to the small rise of her petite chest, I slid my hands up and over her small tits, cupping them under her shirt.

"Oh, thank god," she moaned as my fingers claimed her nipples. She pushed her back to my torso, and ground her thong-clad butt against my cock. My mouth claimed the side of her neck, and I kissed up and down there for a moment -- something that I knew drove her crazy. Then I lifted my hands, drawing her shirt over her head, over her arms, and, finally, off. I stepped back again.

"Dammit," she said, but I could hear the smile. She was close to her breaking point, but she knew I was as well.

I knelt behind her and leaned forward, taking the waistband of her thong between my teeth. "Oh my god," she moaned as I drew myself down, running my face over her ass, her thighs, and calves as I pulled her panties off. Then I stood again and looked at my sister's body in awe.

I took her hand and spun her to face me, drinking everything in. In the flickering light, my sister looked utterly unworldly -- like something from Nana O'Connor's Irish fairy tales. The firelight and candlelight kissed her creamy skin and added gold against her long, red tresses. Maeve of Ulster, the warrior queen, I thought, or the leannán sídhe. Ethereal and beautiful.

I cupped her face in my hands and brought my mouth to hers. The kiss was soft and sweet, and she closed her eyes. She ran her hands down my chest, my stomach, and then even lower, to trace, featherlight, across my cock, which throbbed at her touch.

"Are you done teasing me, then?" she asked with a wicked smile.

"Are you done being teased, then?" I asked, matching her smile with my own.

She looked down at my cock and licked her lips. It jerked at that. She looked back up to me and ran her finger down my shaft. "Thirty bucks says you break first -- that you put it in me before I ask you to."

Oh, how I loved her! Romantic? Yes; vulnerable? Yes; Strong? Yes; Playful? Oh, yes! We kept a ledger of bets, the three of us -- bets like that one. Gambling was our love language.

"You're on," I said, and turned her back to the window. The wind had risen while we'd played, and it was battering the cabin. The breakers were slamming into the beach, roaring, and rollers were smashing into the massive rock. "Watch the waves," I whispered in her ear.

I started at either side of her throat, running my fingers down, barely touching her skin. She shivered.

"That's cheating," she whispered, and I kissed the back of her neck.

I traced over and across her shoulders. Then I spread my hands and trailed my fingertips down her back. She shivered at each touch. I drew them up again, with the backs of my fingers that time, scratching very softly with my fingernails.

She pushed back into me, stroking her hair against my face and rubbing her butt against my cock. I knew, from the position we were in, it would take almost nothing for me to slide into her body, and damn the bet. It was all intoxicating -- the smell of her, the feel of her hair on my face, and the head of my cock hot against her soft, smooth skin.

Instead, I gathered her hair in both hands and used it to gently pull her head to one side. My mouth found the side of her throat, and I kissed there with lips and tongue. She gasped, pushing her back against me harder.

"Fucking cheater," she whispered, and I laughed airily against her skin. Holding her hair in both hands, I tilted her face down and kissed across the back of her neck, then tilted her the other way to work across the right side. Her hands were low, and her fingers were scratching gently on the top of my thighs -- sweet torture for both of us.

Releasing her hair, I kissed along her shoulders, then started down her back, kissing and licking here and there seemingly at random.

"Fuck," she said at last, exasperation in her voice. "You are kissing my freckles." She laughed a breezy little laugh.

I kissed another, then ran my tongue from dot to dot to delicious dot, tracing a constellation on her skin.

"I have freckles up front," she said.

"Getting there," I replied as I started kissing a band just above her waist, right where her shirt had ridden up while picking strawberries one year. The sun had kissed her there, and I did as well.

Then I kissed lower.

"I don't remember there being that many freckles on my ass," she said.

Instead of replying, I slid a finger into her pussy.

"Oh fuck," she moaned, and leaned harder against the window.

I had one hand stroking her ass cheeks while I slowly but surely finger fucked her with my other. Her pussy clenched, hot and wet around my finger. Kaleigh loved to be penetrated, and just the simple pleasure of a single finger slipping in and out of her was a joy. I twisted my invading digit, moving it around in her tight vagina, and then pulled it out to stroke between her lips before returning again. She was so wet that my hand was soaked from her, and the perfume of it was intoxicating.

"Jesus, Johnny, I am so hot right now," she whispered between moans. "You're going to make me come already." Her spine arched as she pressed her face against the cold window. I felt her pussy clenching my finger like it was a lover. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm coming." She turned her head to look at me as she shook. "You're making me come on your finger, Johnny. "You're making me come on your finger!" She closed her eyes as she rode the climax.

I withdrew from her and stood, though I was a bit shaky from my own arousal. I walked up to her and looked out the window at the storm. As I did, I reached up and stroked my finger -- still covered by her cum -- across her open lips. She sucked it inside her mouth, and my cock throbbed. I pulled it free and kissed her deeply, my tongue dancing around hers.

"You come so prettily," I whispered as I walked back behind her, "and I'm going to make you do it again."

Kneeling, I used my hands to spread her legs farther, then started kissing up between them. I had to reposition, getting into a crab crawl, facing up with my weight on my hands. It wasn't ideal, but I didn't care. I started kissing her pussy lips.

"Oh, god," she whispered, and dug the fingers of one hand into my hair.

My sister's pussy was utterly beautiful. All pussies were, but hers even more so. Her inner lips extended past her outer. As if I needed any more proof, I could see in the flickering firelight that she was wet. I stroked the tip of my tongue up one beautiful lip, across just under her hooded clit, and back down the other. The scent of her -- of her skin, of her arousal, of her utter femininity -- was inebriating. I licked lower, running circles across her sensitive perineum. Unlike Natalie, Kaleigh was utterly against anything coming in contact with her anus, but she loved when I licked just short of it.

"Fucking cheater," she whispered again as I danced my tongue over her lower lips once more. I licked between them, and she moaned from deep in her chest. I always loved that sound. I kissed and licked upwards to heaven, running my mouth around her beautiful little clit. Then my arm slipped.

I fell hard between her legs, striking the back of my head against the carpet. "Dammit," I said softly, and she put her hand to her mouth to cover her laughter.

"Fuck this," I said, rising. I scooped her up in my arms. She was still laughing as she wrapped hers around my head. I carried her over to the bed, grabbed a couple of the blankets that were stacked on it, then carried both her and them over to the fire.

"That was ballet, that's what that was," she said.

I didn't reply, but just set her on her feet before spreading the blankets in front of the fireplace. After I had them to my liking, I picked her up again and laid her down on her back.

I put my weight on my toes and hands and crawled over her, holding myself above her body. It was yet another uncomfortable position, but it allowed me to touch her where I would. I bent my neck and kissed her forehead. "Hands to your side," I said as she reached for my hard cock.

"Making up rules again," she said, grousing, but she put her hands down.

I rewarded her by lowering my hips and stroking the very tip of my dick across the taut muscles of her belly.

"Bastard," she whispered, but she laughed as she did.

I kissed the band of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She tilted her head back as I kissed lower, providing me with access to her throat. I used my lips and tongue, tasting the sea salt on her skin, and the sweetness of her under it.

Carefully moving my arms, then legs -- falling on her would ruin the mood-- I kissed my way down over her collarbones, targeting each freckle I found with my lips. There was a lovely spray of them across her chest. I remember teasing her about them when we were kids. My late apology was sketched across her skin with lips and tongue.

She was making beautiful noises and whimpers as I teased. She opened her eyes to look at my precarious position and smiled. "Doing okay there, brother?"

I answered by sucking her tiny breast into my mouth and laving her rock-hard nipple with my tongue.

She gasped and arched her chest up to me. I lowered myself carefully, pressing my skin to hers, bearing her down. My mouth was at her breast and my body between her spread legs. I could feel her heat and wetness against my stomach. I released one breast and kissed my way to the other, then sucked it in as well. Both of her hands were in my hair, pushing and pulling, before she remembered and put them flat again.

I kissed around her breasts again. They were small, but beautiful, with areolae the color of pink rosebuds. Kaleigh had always thought them too small, and had been teased in high school -- not by me, of course. I'd found other reasons to tease my sister, but that one had seemed too personal. I was glad I hadn't; I found them delightful, and utterly delicious, and couldn't bear the thought of her ever thinking I'd thought differently. I loved to lick them with the flat of my tongue, and then suck the beautiful little buds into my mouth. She was fairly well quivering under my attentions, and I loved every moment.

I slid lower, kissing down her ribs, running my tongue along the smooth muscles of her belly, stopping at each freckle, watching her muscles jump in anticipation. She was an athlete, and her body was a tightly toned instrument. There was such beauty in her grace and power, and I worshiped it with my mouth.

When I reached her navel, I looked up to find her smiling down at me with a sardonic look on her face. She knew well of my navel obsession. Part of me wanted to ignore her belly button entirely, or blow a raspberry on it, but I didn't; I couldn't. It wasn't deep, but a beautiful little cup in the muscles, slightly wider at the top, looking a bit like an upside-down wine bottle. I ran my lower lip across it and felt her jump. With my eyes on hers, I ran the tip of my tongue around the edges before lowering my mouth and kissing it. I laved it with my tongue, then sucked at the surrounding skin. She giggled and jerked under me. Then, with a final kiss, I continued on my hunt for freckles.