Stacy King and I Ch. 03

I wanted to feel her cum again. I ran my hand along her side, down to the waistband of her jeans and traced it around front. As soon as I got to the button of her jeans, her hand whipped back from my underwear and latched onto my hand as she shook her head frantically. "Not that. No. Not ready for that." Her forehead was touching mine, but she wouldn't look me in the eye. She was breathing heavily and only pulled away from our kiss long enough to shake her head and tell me no, then latched her mouth back onto mine.

She let go of my hand and rested it back on my shaft. As soon as she let go, I again tried to unfasten her button. Again her hand attached to mine, and this time she pulled her face away and with her other hand held my chin and brought my gaze to hers. "Thomas, no. Please. Not there. I'm not ready for that yet." Her eyes were pleading, not angry. She nodded as if asking for agreement. I nodded absently, my gaze never leaving hers. She smiled and moved my hand from her pants to her right breast. "Here."

She moved my hand to her left breast. "And here."

I understood. She wasn't rejecting me. She wasn't keeping me from what I wanted. She was giving herself to me in pieces, like a progressive gift. This morning she called herself fat. Then at my request she showed me her naked back. And now she took off her shirt to show me herself more fully than she already had: her breasts only in a bra. She trusted me enough to let me in; I needed to respect that.

I nodded again and kissed the palm of her hand. She ran it along my cheek. I held her hand and said, "Not there." She paused as if confused or even upset. I placed her hand on my chest, centered over my heart, while looking her in the eye. "Here." I nodded. She smiled and nodded back, looking away for just a second, bringing her hand to her face to wipe a tear from her cheek.

I moved her hand from my chest, down to my faded erection. "And here," I nodded with a wry smile. She let out a little laugh and quickly nodded, moving her hand again. Pressing her lips to mine, she again caused me to stiffen and she obviously took that as a good sign. Her kiss again became more passionate. I placed both of my hands on her face before moving them down the sides of her neck to her shoulders, my thumbs resting on her bra straps.

They were smooth like satin. My thumbs traced down the straps and over the sides before my hands cupped her breasts, captured in her bra. Since I was still kissing my sister I couldn't look down. But I felt lace trim on most of the cup around the top edge and around the back strap. The cups were primarily of the satiny material that the straps were made of. Again my hands worked back to the front and cupped her breasts, this time squeezing hard.

Stacy moaned into my mouth and her kiss became even more frantic. She quickly kissed my cheek and put her mouth to my ear, breathing, "Squeeze me, brother. Squeeze my tits while I stroke your hard cock." I don't know if she felt my penis swell or jump with that statement, but she giggled at my response. "Oh, you like that, do ya? Is it the way I talk to you, or is it the thought of playing with your sister's tits without a shirt?"

"It's both...Everything...the kissing, touching, your words. God, you're magnificent!"

Her face was still next to mine with her mouth by my ear. "Pinch my nipple, T. Feel how hard I am for you." With that, I quickly found the nub under one cup, the thumb and forefinger of my right hand pinching her left nipple, eliciting a gasp and a bit of a scream from her. I repeated it with her right nipple, receiving a similar response. I then brought both hands up and cupped both breasts, pressing them together while finding Stacy's mouth with my own, attacking her with my tongue again. She responded in kind and while we kissed passionately, my sister rubbing my erection through my underwear. As we kissed and I groped her breasts, she became more frantic in playing with my member. I quickly found her nipples again and pinched them both at the same time through her pink and black bra, forcing her to squeal and break the kiss to find a breath.

Her mouth was open wide, her eyes closed tight, her brow furrowed, as if in a silent scream. Her pelvis thrust blindly and spasmodically as her abs contracted. Suddenly she exhaled a short squeal, then another, then a longer exhaling breath, mixed with a moan of absolute pleasure. Everything stopped and her head dropped onto my shoulder as she fought to catch her breath. After a few seconds, her hand began moving again inside my zipper. I was still as hard as ever, and was continuing to leak. Watching her breasts jiggle as she convulsed was incredibly arousing and is a visual that rests like the cover page to my memory bank.

"Oh, shit, T," she breathed, her head still on my shoulder. "I've never cum by having just my nipples played with. Whew!"

"Note to self," I said out loud.

She laughed a little at that and then asked, "Can I touch it?" while she stroked me.

"Touch what?" I asked, still not shifting gears.

She simply squeezed my erection before continuing to stroke it through my underwear.

"Oh! Uhh..."

"I want to touch it. I want to feel your juices lubricate my hand as I stroke you, making you cum.... And I want to feel your cum on me."

My hips convulsed at that moment, prompted by just the thought of it. I gazed into her eyes and kissed her hard. She backed away and looked me in the eyes as she reclined on the couch. She put her hands on either side of her bra and pressed her breasts up and together, making her cleavage deep and long. She used her forefingers and thumbs to find and pinch both nipples simultaneously, causing her to close her eyes and bite her bottom lip as her hips raised slightly.

I was mesmerized and knelt there watching. My untouched penis pulsed at the sight, I'm sure sending another stream of lubricant dribbling out of the eye and down over my head and shaft. My sister pressed her legs together and beckoned me forward with a crooked finger and a smile. As I began to move, she patted the front of her jeans, which I took as an invitation to climb up toward her waist. I straddled her hips, thankful that I always wore relaxed-fit jeans.

Her hand slid up my boxer-briefs, never losing contact as I felt more of her hand on my stomach. Her eyes never left mine as her fingertips brushed over the waistband of my underwear and made contact with the skin below my navel. This felt very intimate to me. No one had ever touched me here. I briefly felt her nails as her fingers curled under just a little to guarantee that they could get under the waistband before moving slightly forward, pressing under the elastic that hid my most masculine feature.

Freezing there for just a second, her arm at an awkward angle, Stace pulled against my right shoulder, inviting me to lean forward. I put my hand beside her head, resting on it, making me prop myself up over my gorgeous sister, her breasts spilling out the top of her bra. She worked her fingers in further, licking her lips, causing me to lean down and kiss her as she approached the leaking head of my granite pillar. She kissed me passionately as she rotated her hand around so that her knuckles were against my abdomen while her fingers wrapped around my cock. We moaned into each others' mouths as she grabbed my erection and smeared the still-leaking juices around the shaft and head.

I flinched when her hand brushed across the bottom of the frenulum, that v-shaped seam beneath the ridge of the helmet. She giggled a little. Without removing her lips from mine, she asked, "You like that, did you?"

Still connected, "You have no idea. I won't last long at all."

"Good. I want to make you cum. I want to feel it on me." Her hand immediately began moving faster, twisting on every up stroke, the heel of her hand rubbing the underside of the head, her pinky bumping over the ridge on every stroke. Her hand was moving quickly thanks to the lubricant my own dick provided, which had soaked my belly and the front of my underwear. The movement of her right arm caused her right breast to rise and shake on each stroke, which naturally her left breast followed, though to a lesser degree. Her cleavage changed in rhythm to each stroke of her arm. Her heart pendant had settled at her throat, the chain slack around her neck. The heart lay crooked in the v where her throat meets her sternum. I could see my sister's breathing quicken as her throat contracted, making the v in her throat deeper, then shallower, deep, shallow, deep, shallow.

I made the mistake of looking into her eyes. "Oh, God!" I grunted. The first shot erupted through the gap in my shorts, shooting with a force that splattered squarely on the bottom curve of the cup of her bra. As soon as I indicated the approach of my orgasm, Stacy looked down to watch the explosion of my orgasm firing at her. "Oh!" she exclaimed, surprised at the force or maybe the volume. The next blast was apparently aimed higher because it hit her in the chin and throat, some of it deflecting off to the side, across her bra strap and shoulder. "Oh, fuck," she muttered, still rapidly stroking and looking down. I scrambled up a little so that I could try to land some on her tits and stomach. The next couple of shots were forced out, coating her cleavage, then a few barely spurted and dribbled, landing almost directly below my navel, with one or two remaining in my underwear.

Stacy pulled her hand out and looked at it, turning it over to note the cum that was running down her wrist and palm and held her hand as if not wanting to touch anything while she looked down at the semen streaking her cleavage and abdomen. She looked back up at me with a smile, and said, "Somebody made a mess. Do I look all right to go out?" I was mesmerized by the sexiness of the sight before me. Her green eyes sparkling, mouth in a wide smile, neck and tits covered in cum, darkening the pink satin of her bra and showing up in stark contrast to the black lace. I even noticed that some of the cum had landed in the hollow of her neck, coating her pendant and even filling the space in the heart like a little pool.

I just shook my head and laughed, continuing to breathe heavily as I tried to recover. "That," I panted, "was the best orgasm of my life. And may I add, you look amazing covered in my cum."

"I feel amazing covered in your cum."

I backed off her stomach so I could lean down for a kiss. She didn't touch me with her hand, still wet with my climax, but she returned the kiss. "Um, T. I need to get up and wash off. It's starting to get cold."

"Oh, yeah," I said, clambering off the couch. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she laughed. "I'm not complaining."

I watched as she walked into the bathroom, keeping her head down to make sure nothing ran onto her jeans, and keeping her hand out to the side, palm up and fingers splayed. In just a moment I heard the water turn on and she yelled out, "Heeey!"

It startled me, like I had pissed her off, and she came back out of the bathroom with a scowl on her face. Pointing to her necklace she said, "You came in my heart." She busted out laughing and I laughed in response, appreciating the reference. Still smiling, she turned back around and walked back into the bathroom.

I walked toward the bathroom and said, "Well, I also came in my pants. I need to change my underwear."

I turned to walk toward the bedroom when she yelled out, "No! Don't."

"What?"

"Come here."

I walked into the bathroom and she was wiping a washcloth in a single stroke from her navel to the band of her bra. She curled her wrist so that the leading edge of the cloth broke contact first, as if trying to pull the semen toward the center of the cloth. She leaned over the counter and rinsed out the cloth. Her breasts were still spilling over the top of her bra and they jiggled as she rinsed out the cloth, unfolding it and refolding it as she continued to run it under the water, steam rising from the sink.

Turning to me, she asked quietly, "Would you clean up higher? I can't see up there." I knew she was lying because there was a giant mirror over the vanity and sink. I knew she was still playing with me, but I didn't mind. I gently took the cloth from her hand as I looked into her eyes. Soon enough my gaze shifted and taking hold of the chain, I lifted it away from her throat, the heart rising through the thickening puddle of cream and pinched it in the dark green cloth. Using my thumb and two fingers to pinch it, I polished it and tried to make sure I got it all. I used the corner of the cloth to run it up through the middle in an effort to get everything.

Stacy lifted her chin a little bit, her eyes looking at the ceiling as I gently ran the cloth from the middle of her throat, down the hollow, and pulled it out before resting the pendant back on her upper chest. After rinsing it out, I ran the cloth from low in her cleavage up toward her throat again to get the rest of the dribbling semen. I wiped down her bra strap and the bottom of her right cup as they were now stained dark pink from the wet blasts they had received. Confident I got it all, I handed her the cloth while looking in her eyes and whispered, "All clean."

"Thanks," she whispered back, placing a hand on my chest and leaning in to give me a gentle, loving kiss on the lips. Holding there for just a moment, she backed up and while still close to my mouth, looked me in the eye and whispered, "Not ALL clean." She backed up and glanced at my crotch before looking me in the eye again.

"Yeah, I'll go..."

"No." She turned to the sink. "Let me." She rinsed/heated the cloth and turned to me. Kneeling down, she set the cloth on the carpet and looked up at me before placing her hands on either side of the waistband of my jeans. As if waiting for me to stop her, she gently pulled on the waist, but had to reach around to pull the back down to my butt so she could come back to the sides and bring them the rest of the way to my knees.

Here I was, standing in my boxer briefs with my jeans around my knees and my sister at eye level with my penis. She focused on my underwear. She ran her hands around the waist, gently feeling the material and the contrast of it against my skin. Her touch was electric and my body began to respond. She didn't say anything, but just felt around. She ran her hands, palms flat, along my thighs, hips, rear, and on both sides of my growing erection. She picked up the cloth and curled the waistband down in the center front, to clean the semen that had leaked. She wiped in a small stripe along the edge for a couple of inches, then put the cloth back on the carpet by her knee.

Without even looking up, she curled her fingers into the sides of my waistband and began pulling down slowly, like she was waiting for me to stop her. I debated, but then held my breath and hoped she would be pleased. She continued to pull them down and the waistband rolled over itself while the snug fitting microfiber material hugged my thighs. Eventually she pulled them down enough that they broke free from me semi-hard penis and over the curve of my butt. She then had no trouble pulling them down to rest on my jeans.

Still not saying anything, she looked up with a smile and reached for my shaft with one hand and the cloth with the other. The hand that held my shaft was gentle, only touching me with fingertips. The cooling cloth touched the top of my patch of reddish-brown pubic hair and she ran it downward slowly, toward the base of my still-growing erection.

Because she hadn't said anything, I thought she may be disappointed in me.

"Stacy," I said quietly, debating to break the silence.

Without breaking her gaze or working to clean the drying lubricant from my groin, she quietly responded, "Yes?"

"I...uh...I'm sorry I'm not...um...better."

She looked at me confused, stopping her work. "What do you mean?

"I mean, uh, you know, bigger. I'm sorry I'm not bigger."

Looking back at my penis, she quietly said, "It's beautiful." She went back to work, gently caring for my penis. As she felt the cloth getting cooler, she raised up on her knees and turned to run the cloth under hot water again. Without looking at me she asked, "What makes you think you should be bigger?" then she settled back down onto her heels and continued to gently wipe off the entire area, being careful not to miss anything.

"Lots of things, I guess. I've seen other guys in locker rooms, I've seen the occasional porn clip (she made a face and glared at me from beneath her eyebrows for a second at this one), and I know about those enhancement ads."

"How big do you want to be?" She continued cleaning me, moving my penis up and down and one side to the other to get to the areas she needed to clean.

"I don't know. Another inch, two inches?"

"Have you had any complaints?"

"Well, no."

"Then why do you want to change it?"

"Well, ahem, I, uh...I've never been with anyone." I was kind of embarrassed to admit this.

"That's not true."

"Yes it is!"

"No. Yesterday that was true. Today it isn't." She continued to clean.

"Good point. But still..."

"'But', nothing," she said, letting go of my penis and continuing to talk as she stood up and leaned against the sink, resting with her palms and butt on the edge. "Just this morning you got mad at me for saying I was fat. You were upset because of how I was talking about myself in a negative way. Now here you are saying that your penis is too small. How do you think it makes ME feel to hear someone talking about my brother that way?"

"I didn't..."

"You didn't think it was the same thing. Is that what you were going to say?" She folded her arms, pressing her breasts together and up, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah. I guess it is."

She turned to face me and placed her hand on my upper arm. "Thomas, I've never been with anyone, either. If you're worried about comparisons, don't be. And from what my friends have told me, penis size matters a whole lot less to them than it does to men. They are enamored with the man they love and their sexual chemistry determines a lot about their pleasure." She held up her finger. "This. This is what I can use to bring myself off."

"This," she said, stroking my dick, "I know would fill the job description much better." She smiled at me. I started to get hard in her hand. "I've been very happy drawing close to you. I love you. And I love what I've discovered about your body. So if I'm the only one you've had experience with, and I'm pleased, then it sounds to me like you're batting a thousand. Don't you agree?" She winked at me and gave me another squeeze.

I smiled an embarrassed smile and looked down. She picked my chin up with her finger. "T," she said quietly, "It's not about what's here," she said, squeezing my erection. Placing her other hand on my chest, she continued, "It's about what's here. And this is pretty wonderful." I blushed and looked away. She gave me another quick squeeze and said, "and so is this," before laughing a little to break the tension.

"Thanks, Stace. I just get a little insecure sometimes, you know?"

"I know. I do, too. We'll just have to be here for each other. And as we continue to spend time together and see more of each other and explore further in our relationship, we'll grow more secure I think. Don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. I hope so. I've always been lucky to have a sister like you. Now I feel even more that way. I really do love you, Stace."

"I love you, too, T." She hugged me tight, her breasts pressing against me and my erection pressed into her, half on her jeans and half touching her bare belly. She reached down and gave me another squeeze and a few strokes while slipping her tongue into my mouth. We made out as she continued to gently masturbate me. I reached up with my left hand and grabbed her right tit, squeezing it while my right hand reached around and held her ass. She moaned into my mouth. I decided to take a chance and brought my hand up over her waistband, never losing contact, and slid it down into her jeans, over her underwear to squeeze her ass.