Quickie: Curious Cat

She said my name.

I stared like it was that day at the waterpark, but I was looking at a place on her body that I could only imagine that cloudy afternoon.

"Help me cover myself," she said.

"I can't see anything, Kristen," I lied. When she didn't respond, I slid my left hand along the warm, exposed flesh of her hip and gripped her there. "Let's--let's try again," I said, pressing my cock against her ass.

After a beat, she swallowed and muttered, "Okay."

I slid my other hand underneath the towel on Kristen's right side. Snuggling my fingers into the crease where her thigh bent at her waist, I felt her flinch, but she didn't protest.

Tentatively, Kristen rocked back into me while I tugged her ass. My crotch bounced off her. My cock wedged into the cleft of that perfect little ass.

Kristen gasped.

We bounced again.

"Holy shit," I huffed.

Kristen stopped. She tried to look back at me, and she asked, "What?"

I swallowed. I didn't want to say anything that might end this.

"What?" she repeated, and her voice was no longer an accusation. It wasn't even curiosity. She sounded terrified and excited. Shy. She was reaching out to me in hope. Desperate hope.

"It kind of--I don't know--felt good," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I felt you--against me," she murmured. "It's really hard."

We stared at one another for a few seconds. Then, I returned my attention to her ass. Not even asking, I brought us together, grinding my cock against her butt. "Fuck," I muttered, pulling back and ramming her again.

Incrementally, Kristen began participating in the act. She made no attempt to wrench her arm free. Her haunches bore down, and she arched her back. Sliding my hands over her ass, I held her and brought us together. Though I couldn't see her crotch, her new position brought the base of my cock against her pussy. Kristen gasped. Her body recoiled and came back.

Strengthening our thrusts, Kristen moaned airily. I watched her left hand rise from the towels and hold the bowl of the toilet. The towels slid off her body completely. She didn't flinch; she didn't say a word about it.

Completely naked before me, I feasted on her ass, the smooth, thin musculature of her back, and the sides of her breasts, wobbling and peeking out from under her ribcage.

When I stopped, Kristen didn't move. I slid my hands over and around her ass, squeezing. She sighed. Unbuttoning my jeans, I slid them down to my thighs and brought us together again. The thin fabric of my boxers separated us, but the feeling drew a low groan from me.

Bumping against her again, I held us together, grinding my cock into her. "Oh, shit," Kristen moaned.

"Wait," I muttered. Abruptly, I dropped my boxers, aimed my cock with one hand, and held her hip with the other. "Okay."

Guided by me, Kristen rocked back. Her pussy gently bumped into my cock. When it did, Kristen's head tipped toward the ceiling, and she whispered, "Oh, my gosh."

Again, I led her back. The second time, my aim improved, and the knob dabbed her slickness --not penetrating her, but close.

Again. The tip split her labia and dipped--barely--inside.

Again. Kristen's pussy captured the knob, and she cried, "Oh!"

When she recoiled, I slipped free. Again, I pulled her toward me, and she thrust her ass at me. This time, when her pussy swallowed the knob, I followed with a quick thrust.

We were joined.

Kristen bayed noisily. I held her hips, grunting and reeling from the rippling strength of the jointure. It was dizzying. My hands gripped her ass to keep myself steady. I swore at the overwhelming fullness of the pleasure her body fed into mine.

Wincing, I huffed, "Kristen!"

She moaned in acknowledgment.

Words spilled from me. "Your pussy holy shit it feels so good." Struggling to breathe, I clutched her ass and spat out more curses.

Resting her head upon her trapped arm, Kristen panted and gasped. It seemed like she was just as overcome as I was. After several huge breaths, she looked over her shoulder at me, mouth agape and eyes wide.

Fighting for control over the whirlwind of ecstasy, I had no words. Instead, I shoved her ass forward, drew back my hips, and plummeted. I could not have buried my cock any deeper. Kristen shut her eyes and wheezed. Something about her--her bearing, her breathing, her voice--thrilled and irritated me simultaneously. A relentless urge to fuck her and fuck hard swept over me. Clutching Kristen's ass, I drove my hips into her feverishly.

I don't think either of us breathed for the next thirty seconds. It was an unremitting, body-clapping barrage. Kristen absorbed the blows with her eyes pinched tightly shut. At every strike from my hips, her body recoiled, and she bleated. When I finally quit, Kristen let out an enormous, exhausted moan. Her eyes seemed almost bloodshot from the labor. I leaned across her, gasping.

It was not a pace I could maintain, I realized as I recovered, but I needed Kristen that way--powerfully, relentlessly. Her pussy seemed to channel into me what her perky, imperious personality triggered--a need to strike back at her with savage aggression.

I wondered if this was how it always went for Kristen. If she was no longer a virgin, did her fussy discontentment court such aggression from the college boys she fucked? Did that haughty little uptick on her perfect button nose make men reach out and wrap their fingers around her thick ponytail while they jackhammered her pussy from behind? Did they leave her in bed like they left used condoms on the floor of her dorm room--cum-soaked and pummeled into lifeless stupor?

I didn't think so. Her boyfriends dreamed such things, sure, but it never happened because Kristen would--foolishly--gather only men she could control. They would be cowering sycophants, performing with a smile her every fastidious bidding just for the privilege of a few fleeting cuffs of her bulbous little ass or those full, springy tits.

But that would not be me.

This, I suddenly realized, was the confrontation that never happened between us. This was the moment I got to make my case and show her how much of a bossy cunt she had been to me my whole life. The decade-plus of tattle-telling, condescension, disappointment, and criticism I endured from her was now set up for me like a vacant building for my wrecking ball.

Kristen bore down as she felt me arm my core behind her. Gripping the bowl fiercely, she glanced back at me and waited fearfully.

I began slowly, driving firmly into her at a plodding, almost lazy pace. Even so, she emitted a high, almost squeaky "oomph" every time I thrust home. The tempo allowed me to feel every inch of her--to almost wallow in the thrumming luxuriance of her sultry pussy.

"Fuck," I groaned.

Kristen kept emitting that shrill little grunt.

Gradually, the speed and vigor of my thrusts mounted. My hips eventually found a rhythm like the second hand of a clock. Keeping that pace, I began accelerating into my thrusts, and rather than bouncing off her ass, I mashed us together, grinding into her for a fleeting moment before equipping the next drive home.

In this way, I found that perfect place where the pleasure was just enough to keep me crisply erect but not so much that it whisked me to a sudden climax. Having found my balance, I devoted my full attention to Kristen.

How she received my thrusts! Those short, soaring grunts perfectly suited her personality. In them resided the unstable blending of complaint and pleasure. I couldn't tell whether she genuinely loved getting fucked this way or resented every pounding second of it.

Bitter selfishness lingered in me as I relished in her cries. This was my chance, I reminded myself. Now was the moment for me both to rip my pleasure from her and to punish her. I liked the idea of her in bed that night, icing her sore, leaking pussy and wishing she'd been a kinder, more generous older sister. I wanted her to remember this as the moment she truly discovered what it was like to get fucked.

I quit thrusting and stared down at her perfect, bubbly little ass. I felt trembling power infuse my core, and I drew my hips back.

Until her face is purple, I told myself as I reached for her hair. With my hips drawn back and poised like a ballista, I saw something that stopped me.

Goosebumps.

The raised little speckles covered her butt and thighs. Scanning up her back, I saw more. Further up, I saw my sister's exhausted face. She shivered before me. Looking like a thief, long pursued but finally caught, she seemed to await my justice with fearful interest.

Then, I remembered the waterpark. Her vulnerability. My pity.

A drop of compassion touched my heart, and it spread from there, filling me up.

Relaxing the muscles that had been fortified to unleash, I slid my hands softly over her ass and up her back. Down again. Easy, Kristen, I tried to signal with my touches.

I reached out to her with my hand.

Kristen's face grew tranquil, and she let go of her hold on the toilet bowl and gave me her hand. I squeezed it; she squeezed back. Our fingers interlocked. Peering back at me, Kristen swallowed nervously. She opened her mouth to say something.

"It's okay," I told her before anything could escape her. "You always loved me. I know."

A serene and stunningly attractive smile formed on her lips. She nodded shyly, apologetically--and she didn't let go of my hand when I drew our bodies together again. She moaned airily and rested her head on her arm.

From that point onward, I didn't fuck her; we fucked. She led for a time, letting me watch and enjoy, and then I would take over. Sometimes, we worked together, with her ass gyrating against my thrusts.

There is about a three-second memory--from when Kristen assumed control--that I hold close and unspoken. It involves the heart-stopping spectacle of my sister, shimmying against me in a new way that unveiled both her flexibility and the astounding curvature of her hips and ass. She glanced back at me when she did it, and in her eyes, I read a kind of plea for my approval. She was like a kid, showing off for a parent.

It was the first time my older sister ever tried to impress me, and it signaled a sea change between us. And, wow, that ass. Those moves.

That secret moment dies with me.

In any event, the sight of it yanked me out of fuck-all-day mode and into I'm-going-to-cum mode. She must have felt my excitement because she let me take over.

Kristen never let go of my hand. She gripped it tightly when it felt good. She clutched our hands against her body and cried out when the waves of pleasure overwhelmed her.

And, yeah, I fucked her very hard and awfully fast--not to get even--but because our bodies encouraged it. Between those high, airy grunts, she gasped that she was cumming.

I grunted when her pussy clenched my cock, but it didn't stop me. If anything, I began thrusting harder. The bathroom echoed with Kristen's cries and the staccato clap of our flesh. I fucked her right through her loudest, highest bays, and as her strength faded under me, I told her I was going to cum.

The words seemed to reawaken her. She turned and gasped, "No! Let me!"

I pulled out of her pussy, unsure of what she intended other than for me to splatter my seed elsewhere. The instant my cock left her, Kristen spun toward me as far as the trapped arm would allow. Her eyes found my fluid-sodden cock, and she opened her mouth.

Yes, I thought. Please. In your mouth, Kristen.

Teetering on the precipice of my orgasm, I sped to her on my knees. The moment I arrived, Kristen's lips stretched out and her mouth gorged the shaft.

Her head bobbed smoothly, rapidly. I swore, and when my cock began throbbing, Kristen went deep and held there, letting me dash and streak the back of her throat with cum. The wobbles of her gullet told me she was welcoming my every deposit into her tummy.

I swore again, adding her name. Then, the pulses languished and, finally, ended. Kristen released my cock with a moan and a sigh.

My body wanted to give out. Before I could collapse, Kristen grabbed me with her free arm and tugged me to her. She moaned pleadingly; she wrapped the arm around me.

My sister, I realized, needed to be held and forgiven. Surprised, I wrapped her in my arms. I rubbed and caressed her gently. Her tits felt thrilling on my stomach. She made a sound, and I wasn't sure if it was laughter or crying. Certainly, there was joy in it.

Before either of us could speak, her body hesitated. Fatigued giggles followed.

"Kristen, what?"

"Look," she laughed.

Releasing her, I turned.

It was Froofy Pie, rubbing against the door jamb and strolling into the bathroom. Reaching the rug beneath the vanity, the cat suddenly dropped onto the floor, paws curled, and rolled onto her back. Twisting against the piling a few times, she stopped and looked at us, blinking slowly.

"Aw," Kristen said, looking up at me with joyful, glassy eyes, "she's so cute!"

I nodded.

Kristen grinned.

Froofy Pie rose, trotted over to us, and rubbed against us in turn. Kristen and I scratched her head, jaw, and ears--the cat's favorite places--and then the fuzzy thing curled up into a snuggly ball between us.

Then, Kristen farted.

Or, so I thought. I turned to her, and her eyes were wide. She lurched strangely and her head spun toward the toilet. She gasped.

I heard the sound again, but it wasn't a fart; a muffled, rubbery reverberation echoed from inside the toilet.

Her arm.

I watched Kristen's right forearm, dripping wet, emerge from the bowl. Pinched between her ring and middle fingers was a small pink bullet vibrator.

She turned to me, astonished.

"How?" I asked.

Shaking her head, she murmured excitedly, "I have no idea! It just came out!"

"Finally!"

"Yes!" she cheered, hurling herself at me.

We teetered and fell. Froofy Pie darted out of the bathroom with an annoyed mew. Kristen and I kissed with our tongues in a writhing, naked hug on the bathroom floor. Before long, I was sucking on one of her tits and groping her ass. Kristen greedily rubbed my hair with both hands, encouraging me. She purred, "Oh, fuck, that's so good--you are so, so good."

*****

End Note: Thanks for taking the time. I grew a bit frustrated by how long some of my stories were becoming, so I thought of trying a different approach for busier readers. By its nature, a "quickie" sacrifices much in character development and lingering sexual tension, and for brevity, stories like this almost have to rely on timeworn, perhaps trite ways of putting two characters together--like being stuck. Maybe there'll be more "quickies" down the road, depending on how this one is received. Hope you enjoyed it. Thoughtful feedback is always cool. FS