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He gathered his breath, calmed down and tried to get his heart rate under a hundred. He was so horny that he hadn’t been thinking, just acting. His dick had immediately taken over, luckily the look on her face let him know that she wasn’t angry. They’d both simply gotten carried away with the moment.
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay, we just….this is a little strange for me.”
He stood quickly, not thinking about his little problem downstairs. Her face was near his crotch, so she was treated to a front row view of his quite visible erection, and after a moment of blatant staring she slowly raised her eyes to meet his.
He felt a blush tint his cheeks and he started to back away from her.
“I think I should be going, I….er….we’ll discuss this a little later when we’ve had time to think it over properly,” he stammered.
She picked herself up from the bed and grabbed his hand at the door, just as he was leaving. She rose to her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his again. Her slick tongue played out against his as they made out in her doorway, both feeding one another’s attraction with unhidden lust.
“We have to stop,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to though, I’m enjoying myself too much,” she shot back, her mouth still lightly kissing him.
“Let me rephrase – I have to stop. If I don’t stop, then I won’t stop, Mon.”
A cute little smile spread across her lips and her eyes momentarily dropped to his bulging crotch. It was as obvious as the nose on his face that he needed to take care of his problem down there; every few seconds his hands gravitated towards his crotch, only to stop them inches from it because of the company he was in.
“Did I cause that?” she asked, her eyes returning to his and her cheeks glowing tomato red.
“Yeah Mon, you did.”
“All I did was kiss you though, is that normal?”
Her frank curiosity about the state of his cock was turning him on even more. It felt so surreal to be standing in the doorway of his sister’s room, talking to her about his erection as if it was common practice. Hopefully, it would become just that.
“I really love kissing, so no, it isn’t uncommon. What about you, didn’t I cause any stirring down there for you?”
“Well…” She bit down on her bottom lip and her cheeks went a darker shade of tomato. “You could kind of say that.”
Thoughts of her pussy being wet sent him crazy and if he stayed in the room a moment longer he’d probably launch at her in a sexual frenzy.
“I’ve really got to go, but we’ll talk later, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, smiling.
Barely containing himself, he literally ran to his room and slammed the door shut. He yanked his pants down and flexed his hand, his cock springing to attention in anticipation.
“You and me pal,” he said.
* * * * *
After he’d cleaned up he sat on his bed thinking about Monica. All his teenage pre-pubescent fantasies about his sister had always troubled him, but he just figured that every teenager had weird fantasies. The thing was – they were always supposed to be just that, a fantasy. You’re not supposed to make out with your sister, no matter how spunky she is. Some things are taboo for that reason, you just don’t fuckin’ do them!
Their parents had been home for about an hour and they were preparing dinner. Any minute now his name would be called out to go and set the table, while Monica would help serve their meal. Would it be uncomfortable around her now, would she regret what they did? Did he regret what they did? All he knew was that he’d never felt that way when he’d kissed a girl, he’d completely let himself surrender to his passion, not caring if what they were doing was right or wrong.
“Frank, come set the table, honey,” his mother yelled.
Show time, he thought, as he rose from his bed.
As he entered the dining room his heart skipped a beat, Monica had changed out of her uniform and was wearing a tight pair of cut-off Levis and a singlet that showed off her midriff. In short, she looked gorgeous. He moved into the kitchen where his parents were busy pouring each other a glass of white wine and went to the cutlery drawer.
While setting the table Frank watched as his sister dished out the food, eyeing her closely, wondering what she was thinking. Every few seconds she would raise her eyes to his and smile, it was a teasing smile, the kind of smile that he was used to receiving from the opposite sex. His cock jumped in his pants. The smile, her attire and the lingering feeling of her tongue against his was just too much for him to handle. Also, his parents were in the next room, his mother giggling and he heard a slapping noise. Did his father just slap her ass? He looked over at Monica again; there was glint in her eyes, a come-hither sparkle.
He couldn’t take it. He flashed Monica an uncertain smile and walked quickly into the kitchen, his parents were standing there necking and his anxiety level jumped into over drive. Fuck! He recalled the feeling of Monica’s body up against his, her warm breath on his mouth, her wet tongue sliding against his…
He heard a voice from far off.
“Huh?” he said, looking up.
“Are you alright, Frank?”
It was his father. He suddenly realised he was shaking, thank god he was wearing a pair of jeans or else his erection would be making itself known to all. He knew how he must look – his eyes jumping around, his brow felt damp so he must have been sweating. He was disorientated, confused, what the hell was he going to do?
“Yes,” he said, trying to act normal. “Everything’s fine, Dad.”
“You don’t look fine, honey,” his mother said, moving away from his father and pressing her hand against his forehead.
Frank flinched and he knew that she noticed. He could feel the presence of someone behind him and he knew that it was Monica; she’d probably heard the concern in his father’s voice and come to investigate.
“Are you sure sweetheart? You seem to be running a bit of a temperature?”
Frank lightly gripped his mother’s wrist and removed it from his forehead. “I’m fine mum, I’m just not hungry is all.”
He could feel Monica’s eyes burning a hole in his back. The right thing to do would be to turn around, give her a reassuring smile and eat his dinner. That was the right thing, but on most occasions when we know what the right thing to do is, we rarely have the guts to do it.
Instead, he flashed his mother and father the reassuring smile that Monica should have received, turned and started walking from the room, offering no explanation for his behaviour and not planning on giving one.
“Honey, Frank, where are you going?” his mother called.
“I’m just going to go to Pete’s,” he yelled over his shoulder.
Like a man on a mission, he walked hurriedly down the long hallway and into the laundry, opened the back door and then stepped out into the night.
He knew that his mother and father would be sharing quizzical looks, but then would probably just cast it off as some sort of adolescent thing and not give it much more thought. Monica, on the other hand, would know that something was up. And he felt like a complete shit leaving her to dwell on his erratic behaviour, she must be worried sick that he might be disgusted over what had happened between them.
Pete was right. He wasn’t a saint, not even close. He was just way too confused right now to sit at the same table as Monica, to sit there and watch her eat, watch her smile a naughty conspiratorial smile at him, flashing him knowing glances and just generally be the girl that he happened to be in love with. He couldn’t do it; he needed more time to think about what he was getting himself into. No, what they were getting themselves into.
What he needed was to be someplace that she wasn’t, somewhere he could think objectively about the situation and not have his mind clouded by the thought that she was only metres away from being in his arms, kissing him, where he might move his hand and–
No! He couldn’t think that stuff. He had to remain clear headed.
Pete’s, he would do something normal, go over to his friend’s house as he had done thousands of times before and get his mind together. Monica was his sister for Christ’s sakes and he had to get that into his head. She was his sister, it was wrong to do what they had done; she was the same flesh and blood as him.
He sighed inwardly. It sure hadn’t felt wrong though. It had felt fantastic.
Frank climbed onto his mountain bike and made his way down the driveway and out onto the road. They lived in the upper class part of town, beautiful houses surrounded him as he made his way down the street, sans bike lights. There was a three quarter moon tonight, the sky cloud free, so the moon beat down a beautiful ambience that caused a soft shadowy figure to follow along, keeping pace with him, never leaving.
He loved cycling through the streets at this time of night, everyone in their homes eating dinner, talking about the day’s events, hopefully enjoying and making the most of each and every minute they had. He heard a dog bark off to his left, the streets were bare, the night silent and as he rode past houses he saw the gentle light leaking out from behind curtains.
It probably wasn’t a good idea to go to Pete’s in the condition he was in, so instead he rode his bike around town for a couple of hours and bathed in the soft glow of the moon. For a Wednesday night it was relatively quiet, peaceful, and at times it felt as if he was the only person alive as he rode through empty, noiseless streets.
Away from Monica’s knowing gaze he was able to calmly assess the situation. On one hand he had his beautiful sister who by all appearances wanted him as much as he wanted her, yet, on the other hand he had the total and utter destruction of his life if they were ever to get caught.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said to himself.
At around 9pm he decided that he had to face Monica and flush out his feelings for her. But truth be told, he wasn’t sure which path he was going to go trekking down – taking things further with her or deciding against any and all sexual involvement. He just didn’t know.
* * * * *
When Frank arrived home he immediately noticed his parents’ car missing. With his parents out – and with little doubt Monica would be with them – there would be no excuses he could give her to delay their inevitable discussion.
Although only minutes beforehand he’d felt ready for their confrontation, his hands were now clammy and he could feel sticky droplets of sweat sliding down the contours of his face. As confident and assured of himself as he usually was with the opposite sex, he was suddenly feeling apprehensive due to the nature of this particular female in question.
Frank almost hoped she wasn’t home so that they could extend how long they both had to analyse their predicament. There didn’t appear to be any lights on inside, so he raised his hopes that Monica was also with his parents. He tried the door, it was locked, another good sign. With the stealth of a cat he silently removed his key from his pocket and slipped it slowly into the keyhole. The lock made a little ‘snick’ when the key turned and, while twisting the handle simultaneously, he pushed the door open and quietly entered the house.
The empty silence was suddenly invaded by the sound of a television playing softly at the other end of the house. Damn it, she was home. He just wanted more time to think about the situation, to procrastinate, but he had a feeling that his sister would be catching up with him before the night was out. There was also the other possibility, after analysing things she may have come to the conclusion that any sexual activity between them was impossible. It was doubtful though, he recalled the kinky smile she’d given him and the glint in her eyes. He shook his head, and let’s not forget the fact that he wanted her badly, so badly that it almost hurt.
Making his way to his room in the dark, neglecting the light switches in order to remain in stealth mode, he continued the line of thought. It wasn’t exclusively sex he was after, he was in love with her, he just hadn’t allowed the feelings to be evident on a truly conscious level until they’d kissed.
Frank opened his bedroom door and shut it gently, then he moved over to his wardrobe and stripped out of his clothes and changed into his night attire, which consisted of nothing more than a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt. His curtains were still open so he was able to take advantage of the moonlight that streamed into his room instead of resorting to turning on his light.
His stomach was resting in his throat; he was nervous and totally unsure of himself. These were traits that he wasn’t typically used to feeling; Monica had shorted out all of his circuits and thrown his entire life into chaos. Things had been ordered and rational before today, sure he was slightly lonely but his life had been uncomplicated.
He could see his hazy reflection in the mirror, the worry in his eyes was evident and he tried to smile at himself. It really looked less like a smile and more like a grimace.
“Show time,” he said, his shadowy reflection following.
Creeping through the house, not entirely sure why he was creeping but doing so nonetheless, he made his way to the lounge room. The sound of the television was vibrating through his eardrums, but it wasn’t even registering. He came to the open archway that connected the lounge room with the kitchen and saw Monica sprawled on the three seater couch. She was propped up against the far right arm, the television off to the left and out of his line of sight, so her body was angled slightly away from him. Truthfully, she probably wouldn’t be able to see him, there was no light coming from behind him and the glow from the television pretty much only illuminated the other side of the room.
She took his breath away. Clearly she didn’t think himself or their parents would be home before she went to bed, because all that she was wearing was a pair of white cotton panties and a white Winnie the Pooh t-shirt that was a size too small. It was what she usually changed into when she went to bed, but she never strolled around the house like it. He’d seen her in bathing suits and that had been as sexy as hell, only it was infinitely more erotic to see her sitting there in what she wore to bed, unaware that his eyes were roaming over every square inch of her body.
It was the cotton panties that got him. Some guys found lingerie sexy, yet Frank salivated over the simple white cotton panties that lay on display in front of him, half because of the body they were attached to and half because for some reason he found them so damned hot. From his vantage point he could see that they were pulled taught over the lips of her pussy, only the distance he was viewing the spectacle from didn’t accommodate for fine details.
Her hair had been untucked from its pony-tail and was splayed out around her shoulders in a golden arc, her breasts were obviously unhindered and they pushed invitingly against the tight, thin fabric of her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt. Her legs were spread slightly, in a lazy and nonchalant fashion. His cock was instantly hard, with the view that he was privy to, how could it not be?
Monica’s eyes weren’t even focused on the television, they were aimed at the floor and she appeared to be deep in thought.
Frank knew that right then and there his decision had been made. To hell with the consequences, he didn’t care what people would do if they found out, she was the most important person in his life and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any other girl. Because people were too narrow minded and set into ideals that were archaic, they weren’t allowed to share their love the way they wanted. That was bullshit.
Taking a deep breath he moved slowly into the room, making it half way before she was aware of his presence. Her eyes rose to meet his and they went as wide as saucers. A brief, unsure smile flickered across her lips and a cute little frown flashed over her face; even when Monica was angry or unhappy her allure didn’t waver.
As he sat down on the middle cushion next to her she sat up straight, tucked her hair back behind her ears and smoothed out her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt, causing his eyes to linger over her breasts as she did so. When he looked up at her face again, even in the poor light, he noticed that a maroon blush was spreading across her cheeks.
Amazingly he blushed too; usually he was extremely confident around women yet with Monica all the rules seemed to have changed. He didn’t know how to act, or how she’d respond, which made him feel as if he was an inexperienced kid.
“You ran out of the house awfully fast,” she said cautiously, breaking the silence.
Looking down at her hands in her lap, she spoke again, so softly he could barely hear her. “Are you…are you ashamed of what we did?”
“No,” he replied gently. “No, I could never be ashamed of that.”
She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering and a look of relief washing over her face. She smiled at him then shifted her body, leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, hugging tightly, her chin resting in the crook of his shoulder and her mouth pressed up against his left ear.
He was still hard – painfully hard – and the sensation of her soft breasts pushed tight against his chest caused him to tremble. If any doubt remained in his mind his lust for his sister’s warm body clouded it instantly. He returned her hug with an intensity that equalled her own and he stroked her back gently. The thin cotton t-shirt hugged the contours of her body perfectly, smoothly, as if it was a second skin.
“I was so afraid you were disgusted with what we did,” she whispered, her lips tickling his ear.
Frank’s hands slid up her back and pushed gently at her shoulders, moving her body slightly away from his so that he could look into her eyes. His vision suddenly blurred as he looked at her, she was utterly gorgeous. Her expressive green eyes were searching his and silently pressing for an answer, and he guessed that he owed her one.
“I…I guess I got scared,” he sighed. “And confused, incredibly confused, but no, not disgusted, Mon, nothing about you could ever disgust me.”
She smiled warmly and brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes.
“You don’t think I’m scared?” she asked incredulously “You don’t think I’m confused about us? You’re not the only one Franky, just please promise me that if you get scared or confused again you’ll talk about it with me, okay?”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, taking her into his arms again.
“Just promise.”
“I promise,” he whispered, hugging her fiercely.
With her lips quivering slightly she pressed them against his and started to kiss him passionately, their arms both tightly wrapped around one another, tongues caressing, their warm bodies rubbing together and low murmurs escaping their lips as they made out. As he slid his hands through her hair their kiss became even steamier, more electrified, a new urgency seemed to take hold as they lost themselves in each other’s arms. A moan passed into his mouth and Monica pressed her breasts provocatively against his chest, moving up and down slightly so they rubbed back and forth.
Monica started to giggle in his arms while their tongues were still sliding, which somehow made her giggle even more. She pulled her mouth away from his, they were both out of breath from their kiss so each time she giggled it hurt her stomach.
He looked at her strangely, her hair was tousled and her eyes were shining with mischief. Her mouth was wet and slack from their kiss, her t-shirt slightly rucked up exposing even more flesh to Frank’s hungry eyes. Getting a hold of himself, he let his arms drift from her back to her sides, where they touched bare flesh.
