Stacy King and I Ch. 03

As soon as Stacy ran back into the bathroom, I remembered what I was going to ask her. I looked at my watch and noted that it was 10 a.m. Well, the morning was mostly gone and registration started at 1. If history was any indicator, most of the freshmen wouldn't realize that showing up at 1 wasn't going to help. You needed to be ready to register at 1 if you wanted to get the classes you were hoping for. That gave us about two-and-a-half hours to get ready and be at registration.

I walked to the bathroom again, noting that my dried semen was beginning to pull on my pubic hair, which is not at all pleasant. I knocked on the bathroom door, hoping to be heard over the hair dryer on the other side. "Stace?" I called out.

"Forget it," she laughed, "I'm not showing you anything else!"

Smiling at her comment, I called back through the door, "That's too bad, but I only wanted to ask about lunch." The dryer stopped and the door opened.

"Are you sure that's all you wanted?" she smirked.

"That's not ALL I want," I replied, wriggling my eyebrows. This drew a firm pop on my arm with the back of her brush. "OW!" I complained, rubbing my arm. "Okay, okay! Jeez! I don't know if we should be living together if you're going to beat me up every day."

"Is it too late to find me a room on campus?"

"I hope not. But if it is, you can always sleep in your car."

"What would mom and dad say if they knew you were making me sleep in my car?"

"What would they say if they knew we were sharing my bed?" I smiled.

She smiled back, opened the door enough to approach me, and wrapped her arms around my waist. "I don't think they would approve at all." She looked up into my eyes as she grabbed my butt and ground herself into me. My dick began to stir and she reached up to kiss me. As soon as our tongues touched, I felt a pinch at my groin as the dried cum pulled when I started growing.

"OH!" I immediately pulled back, grabbing at my crotch. Stacy was surprised and a little offended, then began to laugh.

"Already? But I haven't even touched you yet," she teased.

This drew a laugh. I was awkwardly laughing, hurting, and trying to explain all at the same time. Soon enough the hairs were either ripped out or the cum-glue broke because the pain stopped. "Ow," I was mock crying, "My cum dried and it was pulling my hairs when I started getting wood again." This caused her to bust out laughing, her towel dancing as her breasts moved behind it.

"Ohhhh, I'm so sorry," she tried to comfort me while stifling a laugh. "Do you want me to help you clean it off?"

"Yes. 'But I'm not ready for you to see me like this'," I teased, throwing her own line back at her, smiling. She smiled back, knowing I was teasing and not upset. I pulled her to me and gave her a kiss. "But I do need to clean up. I'll take my shower when you're finished up. It won't take me long."

"Okay, it's yours in a few minutes." She turned to walk back into the bathroom.

"Wait!" I said. "I keep wanting to ask about lunch. It's getting late, but we have plenty of time. What do you think about getting brunch and talking about your class choices and then trying to get to the school around 12:30?"

"But registration isn't until 1."

"That's when it starts, but if you're there early and ready to go, you can be in at 1 and out by 1:15. A lot of people will be showing up at 1 and after, and you'll be losing classes. If we're there early and out early, we have the rest of the day to ourselves. I was thinking about taking you out tonight." I was excited at the prospect.

"Really? You want to go out again?" she sounded pleasantly surprised.

"Of course. Like I said before, I love you. Now finish up so I can get ready." She just stood at the door looking at me and a subtle smile crept up. I just waved her into the bathroom and she turned to walk back in. I went into my room to get my clothes out.

Soon enough, Stacy was out and ready to go and within a few minutes, I walked out of my room. Stacy was wearing her standard jeans and t-shirt, her hair back in a pony tail again, the cartoon character on her shirt apparently a vague cultural reference I didn't understand. She had just come out of her room with a basket to hang in the shower, reached in and set it on the bathroom counter, but grabbed my arm as I passed, stopping my progress to the living room.

"Wait," she said. "Can I get a kiss?"

"Anytime." I leaned down and kissed her full on the lips, my stomach flipping as I did so. My hand reached around her back and I couldn't stop myself. I ran it down over he denim-clad ass and pulled her tight against me. She breathed out a little at that. My tin soldier woke up. Our tongues began to dance before she pulled her head back, looked me in the eye and tilted her chin up with that crooked smile.

It didn't take me long to know what she wanted. I kissed her right beneath her right ear, fulfilling one of my desires I had shared just this morning in my tribute. It was everything I had hoped. Her skin was soft and smooth and warm and her perfume was the one I had chosen for her before she left for England. It was a soft scent, not flowery or sugary and not strong or one that assaults the nose. It was truly a pleasure to inhale, and enhanced my experience all the more.

She shuddered when I opened my mouth and my tongue licked her neck. Using only my lips, I pulled on her earlobe and heard her mutter, "Oh, God, that's good. Wow." I continued to manipulate her neck and ear for a few more seconds, ending with a flourish by tracing the outside of her ear all the way up with my tongue before backing away and planting one more kiss on her lips.

"We should get going," I whispered. Her eyes had remained closed and her head tilted until she heard my voice, at which point she slowly opened her eyes, looking sleepy, and righted her head again. She reached for my hand and kissed the palm, then entangled her fingers in mine and escorted me to the front door.

Having brought her registration packet and pencil with us, she looked at it on the way to lunch. I had asked her about a brunch buffet that one of the local steakhouses offers and she said that was fine with her. By the time we arrived she had already checked some of the classes she wanted to consider. We paid at the front register, found a four-top and sat side by side, rather than across, under the pretense of being able to work on her schedule together. I think we both knew that being on opposite sides of the table put too much distance between us. Between trips to the buffet and interruptions by our server to refill our tea, we discussed her schedule.

"As for me," I continued, "I like having my classes early in the day so I can be out as soon as possible. If I sleep in because my classes don't start until 11, then I won't get out till 3 or 4. That's a lost day as far as I'm concerned. If I start with 8 o'clock classes, I can still get four classes in and be out by lunch. Then on Tuesday and Thursday, I can have one or two classes in the morning and be out by late morning. See what I mean?"

"Yeah. That sounds good," she answered, "but what if your class isn't offered during those times?"

"That happens with more frequency as the classes become more specialized, but I still do my best to get earlier classes. If I can have a full day off or two each week, though, I'll cram for long hours on the days I do have class, So I may be in class from 8-4 with maybe an hour break in there, and then have two days off each week. That's a bonus all its own."

"What's your class schedule like this semester?" she asked.

"Well, I couldn't get anything until 9 on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and then have an 11 and 1 o'clock class. On Tuesday nights I have a 3-hour class from 6:30-9:30. And I have a 3-hour class that I'm taking online, so there are no on-campus meetings for that one. So, you see, it doesn't always work out the way I'd like, but I've taken all my core classes and now I'm into more specialized courses which offer limited sections. But you have a ton of courses to choose from, no prerequisites to meet, and lots of freedom as a result. So set it up however you want. We'll create an A schedule, B schedule and C schedule, based on your needs, preferences, and availability. If A doesn't work out, we'll try B and so on. Does that make sense?"

"Okay. We can do that."

"Cool. Okay, so..."

"I want my schedule to match yours." That kind of surprised me.

"You want your schedule to match mine?"

"Don't think I'm creepy or stalking my own brother or anything," she laughed. "I look at it this way. We live off campus together and if we have similar schedules, we can ride in together, go our separate way for classes and meet up to ride home. When we're home we're planning meals and stuff around both being there instead of eating alone or buying separate groceries or having to reheat and stuff. Besides," she smiled, "that apartment is ours. Together. I want us to be able to enjoy it together. And we don't know about work schedules yet, either, so I know that may throw a wrench into it, but..."she shrugged.

"If you're sure that's what you want," I smiled. I didn't want to affect her decision one way or the other. I have to say, however that I was excited about the prospect. Yesterday maybe I wouldn't have been, but today I see things differently. I understand more why she would want to do this, and it had nothing to do with carpooling and groceries.

She tucked her hair behind her ear as she looked down to start working on her schedule. After a couple minutes of watching her, I leaned in, placed my hand on her leg and started offering suggestions and answering questions. Soon she had her hand on mine, only moving it when she had to write something down or turn a page.

We stayed at the restaurant until about 12:15, having enjoyed a leisurely meal together and making a solid plan for fall semester. As planned, we were back on campus and standing at the door at 12:30. A few had come before us and several more straggled up before the doors opened at 1. When the student government officer propped the door open and waved us in, we walked over to one of the student ID tables where they scanned the bar code on her folder and asked for her name and birthdate to confirm. She stood in front of a plain wall and had her picture taken for her student ID and within a couple of minutes, her student ID came out of a small card printer hooked up to a computer. The student assistant working at the computer scanned the bar code on the card and the computer attributed her card number to her bio. In a quick rehearsed few sentences, the student explained that she needed to keep the card with her at all times. It was her ID, meal pass, library card, and event admission, and if she lost it, there would be a $25 fee to replace it.

We made our way over to the registration table, ID in hand, under the I-L sign.

"Hi. Do you have your ID?" Stacy handed her the new ID card. "Name?"

"Stacy King."

"Last four of social?"

"8611."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Do you have a schedule worksheet?"

"Yes, ma'am," handing her the paper with A, B, and C schedules on it.

The woman wore her glasses low on her nose so she could both read the work sheet and the computer screen, switching back and forth to check for availability for each course as she entered the course number. After little more than a minute, she smiled at Stacy as the printer behind the table whirred to life. "Okay, you're all set." Grabbing a sheet of paper from the printer, she turned back toward us and handed the sheet to my sister. "Take this sheet to the bookstore and you will be able to get the books you need for your courses. The bookshelves are labeled by course number. If you need to get a parking pass, you'll need to visit the campus security table," pointing to the table at the far end of the gym. "Any questions?"

"No, ma'am. I don't think so."

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call or stop by. You can also contact us by e-mail or schedule an appointment through the website. Drop/Add ends two weeks from the start of class on Monday. We're glad you're here."

"Thank you. I am, too." She turned and winked at me, then waved to the woman behind the table. As we walked away, she jumped a little, clapping repeatedly, like the little girl I used to see, "I'm so excited! I'm a college student now! Yay!"

I put my arm around her, "Yes, you are. I'm proud of you. I think you're going to do very well here."

Hugging me back with both arms around my waist as we walked, she said, "Me, too."

She had her ID scanned at the campus security table and wrote a check for a parking sticker and was instructed to attach it to the bottom driver's side of her rear window and that she was not allowed to back into the parking spaces. She was given a map of the campus and the non-residential parking lots were highlighted as we watched. The younger officer handed her a clear plastic bag that had fliers about campus safety, regulations, rape avoidance, reporting a crime, and all sorts of other information, most of it common sense, and told her he hoped she enjoyed it here.

As we exited the gym, Stacy pulled her iPhone out of her pocket, said, "Uh-huh. You said we could be out in fifteen minutes." Showing me the phone it said, 1:22. She raised an accusatory eyebrow and said, "Now my whole day is off."

"There was a crowd," I defended.

"You always have an excuse." She bumped me playfully, putting her phone back in her pocket.

"While we're here, do you want to go get your books or wait?"

"I don't know. It would be nice to have them and not have to mess with it later, but I've heard you may not need them and I hate to blow money."

"That makes sense, although in my experience at this school, all my professors have used the books. Even if you don't refer to them in class, you can still be quizzed on the information. Besides, you can return them for full credit during Drop/Add if they still look new. And they do have used books there, too, so you can sell them back at the end of the semester."

"Okay," she said, let's go ahead and get them."

We walked into the campus bookstore which was a combination textbook store and school spirit gift shop. The school name, logo, and mascot were all over the place on everything from travel mugs to throw blankets. With a little assistance from one of the students working there, I had an armload of freshman basics textbooks. Stacy spent the time answering questions from the girl about where she was from and how she liked it here so far. I never even came up in the conversation. "Oh, him? He's just my pack mule," I could imagine Stacy telling the young clerk. Scanning her card and each book, she waited while Stacy swiped and signed the credit card reader and bagged the books. Again, the school logo.

"And that's that, little sister. You're ready for Monday. Let's enjoy the weekend, what do you say?"

"Mmmm, sounds good to me. Any big plans?" she asked in an intentionally seductive tone.

"I don't know; we'll see." Another slap to the arm.

"OW!" I laughed, "I said we'll see." She laughed and grabbed my hand again, locking our fingers together as we walked to the car.

When we got back to the truck, I opened the door to let Stacy in and when she got one foot up on the runner she looked at me over her shoulder and said, "Lend me a hand?" I held my hand out for her, but she just smiled and shook her head no, then wiggled her butt, the denim taunting me. I put my hands on her ass, my thumbs nearly touching her center seam. When she was standing almost fully, she paused, giving me a chance to play for a moment before turning around and settling into the seat. "Thank you," she said meekly before looking out the windshield, almost ignoring me.

When I settled into the driver's side, I put the key in the ignition and she said, "So, we have some time to kill. Is there anywhere you'd like to go?" I looked at her for just a second before grabbing the back of her head and pulling her to meet me in the middle of the cab. I forced my tongue into her mouth, which she greedily accepted. With one hand on the back of her head, my other hand went straight to her breast, kneading it and causing her to moan into my mouth.

Instantly I felt her hand land near my crotch, eagerly searching out my penis. She quickly found it and rubbed her palm along the quickly stiffening shaft. "Oh, God," I breathed, pulling back a little bit.

"Let's go home," she breathed.

No one needed to tell me twice. I was back in my own seat shifting gears and rolling out the main gate of the campus. I had to touch her, so I put my hand on her thigh, sliding it up until my pinky was up near her pussy. I squeezed hard. She moaned and grabbed me, her fingers clawing my forearm. We continued to grope each other on the short drive back through the small town to our apartment. Not waiting for me to come around, Stacy met me at the back of the truck and practically pulled me up the stairs. Fortunately the lock turned easily. I didn't have the patience or dexterity to try and work a bent key into a cheap lock, and I would have hated to have to answer the security company's questions about breaking into my own apartment with the key in my pocket by saying, "But my sister was really horny."

The door slammed shut as I was back in her arms, pushing her backward toward the bedroom. She grabbed my shirt and took a hard right, backing up until she fell over the arm of the couch. I almost landed on top of her, but I was able to catch myself by placing my hand behind her head. We wrestled with a passion and a fervor I'd never experienced. Her legs wrapped around my thighs and she ground her hips up onto my erection, dry fucking me through two layers of denim. Her hand was frantic in my hair, her other pulling my butt down to her, encouraging me to thrust and slide along her mound.

My hands were all over her breasts, mauling them as I kissed her mouth and down her neck. I risked it and moved down to gently bite her breast through her t-shirt. "Oh, shit, T! That feels fantastic! Use them! They're all yours," she moaned as she continued to thrust her hips against my stomach, my cock now out of reach. But it wasn't too far for her hand. With one hand she stroked and grabbed at my head as I enjoyed her breasts. With her other hand, she reached down and found my erection again, stroking it through my jeans. I didn't object when she fumbled with the button on my jeans and as she lowered the zipper. Her hand felt amazing stroking over the smooth material of my boxer briefs, now the only thing separating skin from skin. I know she could feel the pre-cum soaking through the crotch of my underwear.

She continued to moan, now peppered with comments about my excitement. "God, you're hard, Thomas. Did I do that to you? Did I make you hard?"

"You know you did, Stace! It's all for you: the erection, the dripping pre-cum...my orgasm." With that last statement, she pulled me down for another attack on my lips, her hand leaving my pants. She tried to scramble out from underneath me, but I was too heavy.

"Get up, T!" she pressed on my chest as she clambered free. She quickly sat up onto her knees and reached for the hem of my shirt, quickly pulling it off over my head and throwing it to the side. She again reached for my cock, her hand stroking it inside my jeans, but over the underwear. She didn't look at me when she untucked her own t-shirt. She just closed her eyes and lifted her hands up over her head, nodding, saying, "Do it!"

I quickly pulled the shirt over her head and as soon as her head was free, she lowered her arms, pulling them out through the sleeves and pulling me back against her chest again. She kept her eyes closed and drove her tongue back into my mouth, never losing her sense of urgency. This was different now. She had seen my chest, but now my bare chest was pressed against her bra. I only saw the colors: dark pink and black. She had pulled me back too quickly. I ran my hands up along her sides and back, touching her bare skin for the first time. Once again, her hand found my erection and she resumed squeezing and stroking me through my underwear. The feeling was incredible. I was covered with sensation: Her mouth, her hand on my skin, my skin on her skin, the brief visual of her bra holding her breasts, her hand on my cock. It wouldn't take me long to cum.