The Sister Dares Ch. 02

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We deepen and strengthen our relationship.
3.5k words
4.51
87.2k
19

Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 11/02/2022
Created 07/17/2007
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Author's note. I received a great deal of feedback from the original version of this story. I have corrected a couple of the bigger mistakes and changed the ending for the first chapter. The first bit of this chapter is actually the rewritten end of the first chapter. I will admit that when I reread it, I didn't like the final few paragraphs as much as I did when they happened. Please indulge me this vanity and allow me to rewrite history, at least this once. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

"I dare you to let me fuck you from behind." She responded by rolling over on her stomach, one leg on the couch, one knee on the floor.

"Go easy. Matt tried this once and I didn't like it. It's not very intimate. But a dare is a dare."

I positioned my engorged length at the warm moistness of her cunt. But before taking advantage of the situation, I decided to have some fun first. I began kissing and nibbling her ass cheeks and licking around her asshole, determined to both tease her and get her loosened up for the onslaught that was coming. She wriggled and squirmed, but she didn't try to get away. I lowered my head until just the tip of my tongue was darting to and fro across her slit. When I replaced my tongue with my cock again, Becky was much more receptive. This time I slipped the head in past her outer lips without resistance. When the thicker meat of my cock tried to enter behind, that's when the pain started for her.

"Slow down." I did. "Nice and easy now," she instructed. "That's it."

I pressed forward half an inch at a time until I had my entire length in her, reaching deeper than I had in the other positions. Then I pulled back until only the tip of my cock remained hidden and pressed forward again. Each stroke got me a little deeper. I made long, slow strokes and Becky began to moan. Hard, short strokes and she moaned harder. Fast strokes and she moaned faster. Hard, long, fast strokes and she began to buck wildly. I put rubbed my thumbs on her ass crack, spreading the cheeks. I gathered some of her wetness with my thumb tips and rubbed it on her brown rose. I could feel her sphincter muscles twitching from the excitement, faster and faster until the ring of muscles was fluttering. That was enough for me. We came together, me slamming her from behind for all I was worth until finally we both collapsed onto the sofa. She was face down, legs spread, me face down on her back, my semi-hard cock buried into her now sore pussy.

"Oh my God," she finally spoke. "It's my turn. Truth or dare?"

To be continued......................

"Truth." I was too exhausted for a dare.

"Why did we do what we just did?" I couldn't tell if this was real curiosity or post-coital guilt. It was kind of an awkward question for a sister to ask her brother, who was currently laying on top of her with his well spent cock buried in her now gooey quim. I don't know if I forgot the question or was too enthralled by the fulfillment of my lifelong fantasy, but I took a long time to come up with my answer.

"I did it because I love you and I have always loved you. I did it because you are beautiful and special. I did it because I have always wanted to do it and tonight the opportunity seemed right. We are both grown ups, long past the feigned abhorrence for this societal taboo. I find you attractive in so many ways and this was just my selfish way of demonstrating that to you." I used flattery, logic, and honesty, three traits that usually sold the contract to my clients. "Why do you think we did it?"

"I think," she replied slowly, "I think we did it because we can and because it felt so damned GOOD!" She was chuckling now. Her giggle were making her pussy throb, causing my dick to get hard again. She could feel this and panicked. "Please don't fuck me again right now. I am exhausted. If you make me climax like that again, I will just be ruined for other men."

She strained to raise us both up, but was enjoying the liquid velvet of her pussy as it surrounded my engorging member. I made her struggle for a bit before I reluctantly pulled out, my cock attached to her pussy with a long umbilical of my cum and her secretions. I lifted my self to a seated position on the couch and reached for my Tom Collins. A long sip and I felt refreshed. I set the cold glass down on my burning groin, refreshed by its chilly contents being rubbed along my semi-hard cock. Becky slowly got to her feet and went into the gigantic bathroom and I could hear the water running in the Jacuzzi. In a few minutes she called out.

"There's plenty of room in here for two, David." I knew I had to get up. If I sat on that comfortable couch much longer, I would sleep there. I creaked and groaned my way to the bath, my middle-aged knees aren't built for that much fucking any more. She was in the tub, warm water up to her chin, her hair pulled back into a bun. Her long neck was so inviting. I lowered myself into the center of the spa and put on hand on each side of her shoulders, leaning in close for a kiss. I kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead, her lips and finally settled on her neck. I let my tongue dart in and out as I licked and nibbled her neck from her shoulders to her ear lobes. I love necks. She occasionally rubbed her nails on my thighs, scratching them lightly and raising the level of my excitement. As much as I loved nibbling her neck, my back was beginning to stiffen and get sore. I stood up straight, thinking I would sit down and pull her onto my lap so I could continue to lick her neck from a more comfortable position. Becky had other plans. When my cock cleared the water, she grabbed it by the base and pointed it straight at her own face. She pulled me toward her by the groin and she leaned forward and began to tongue my glans, occasionally darting her tongue into the tip, scooping out the precum that was gathering there. She put the whole cock back into her mouth and began to fuck my joint with her face. I didn't want to get fully aroused again, but my little head overruled my big head. Sore and raw didn't matter to it, erect and proud was the state it wanted to be in. My cock got its way.

For fifteen or twenty minutes I was the recipient of my deepest fantasy blow-job. Finally Becky had to give up or suffer lockjaw.

"I'm sorry, Sis. I can't possibly climax again. Three is two more than normal for me." I pulled away and got out of the tub. I was pruny from the balls down. I grabbed a gigantic towel and began to dry off. Becky got out as well. I grabbed another towel and wrapped her in it, taking the opportunity to give her a long hug, her face against my chest. She was sobbing.

"Why did he do it, David? Why?" I knew she was talking about her soon-to-be-ex-husband Matt. He had left her a couple of weeks ago for his secretary. That bastard had better not run into me at the wrong time.

"Because he's an asshole. He didn't know how well he had it. But he will, trust me."

"Don't hurt him. He's still the father of my girls. Scum he may be, but they still need him." She kept her face buried in my chest. I rubbed her back and neck, waiting before making a reply.

"I promise not to hurt him if you promise to NEVER and I mean NEVER take him back." I don't know why I said that. Probably because I knew my sister was gullible and trusting enough to listen to his cock and bull stories and weasel his way back under her roof, maybe back into her bed. The thought of Matt making love to my sister was infuriating. I realized that I was jealous and that I was having dangerous thoughts.

"You can't mean that," she replied, lift her head to look me in the eye.

"I can and I do. I know he's going to want to have contact with the girls and I can't stop that if they want to see him, but I don't want him near you any more and if Melissa and Andrea say that they don't want to have anything to do with him either, then I don't want him around period."

Becky thought for a moment and then lowered her head back onto my chest. "OK. I don't know if it's going to be the best decision, but OK, I won't let him near me again. Can we go to bed now? I'm exhausted."

We walked together to the bedroom, my arm around her shoulders, hers around my waist. We climbed into the gigantic super king-sized bed naked. I sleep on my left side always. She nuzzled up to my back, her breasts pressed against my ribcage, her right hand resting on my right side, near where my six-shooter would be, if I were a cowboy instead of a sports agent. In minutes we were both fast asleep.

It was a little past dawn when I started having this wonderful dream. In it I had spent most of the night making love to a beautiful young bride, who alternated between looking like my sister and my wife. The dream was so real that I could even feel my wife's hand rubbing my cock, trying to bring it back to life for another round of lovemaking. I rolled onto my back and the hand started to slowly stroke my cock. My manhood at least had the good sense to get up before I did to get the day started right. I dreamed I could feel her mouth wrap around its head. Her tongue teasing the triangle of the glans, making my cock dance. Just as I was ready to explode I awoke, only to find that the dream had it's basis in reality and my sister Becky was leaned over my stomach, mouth on my cock, head bobbing up and down as her free hand rubbed her saliva in twisting strokes on my shaft. Dream or not, I had a wake-me-up orgasm, which ended up in her stomach and not on the sheets.

"What a way to start the day!" I said as I pulled her up to kiss her. I could taste my own issue on her lips. "Thanks. I needed that." We continued to kiss. She climbed up onto me, laying fully on me, her legs over mine, her pussy over my cock, her firm breasts pressed against my chest, nipple erect and attentive. I let my hands roam her back, her legs, her ass as my tongue roamed around in her mouth, playing with her tongue. She sat up, her damp pussy pressed against my shaft, which was now pointing at my toes painfully. She leaned forward until she could work the head of my cock into her now-slick coozy. She began to slide up and down on my pole, working it in deeper for a few strokes and shallow for a few. She threw her head back and began to hop u and down on it, a jockey riding for the wire at Churchill Downs. She found that she could control her own orgasm if she varied the tempo and the depth. She rode the wave, not quite at the crest, but in the gloaming of the foam. When she could take it no longer she grabbed my nipples and twisted. Hard. I was so shocked by the abuse that this represented, I responded in kind, only not quite so forcefully. This was enough to send her over the edge and she pumped my cock furiously for just a few seconds before finally reaching her ultimate orgasm and collapsing on my chest. There was a knock at the door.

"I ordered room service," she said. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. What did we get, I'm famished."

"Star bucks, omelets, French toast, sausage links, and hash browns O'Brien." She pulled on a robe that came with the suite and answered the door, showing the attendant into the adjacent sitting room where he set the breakfast table. As she signed the check, he checked her out. He glanced up and saw me watching him and me the "You Lucky Bastard" Look before taking the check from her and pushing his cart back into the hallway.

We sat naked at the table, feeding ravenously. When we are appetites were sated, we lounged about for a few minutes until my cell phone rang.

"Hello Janet." I would normally have ignored the call, but when Janet calls I answer. We both know that she won't call unless it's important. "What's up."

"Turn on ESPN. Larry Morganthal is dead."

"Larry is dead? Where? How? When?" Larry was my former mentor, whose job I had assumed when he retired. When he left Talent Associates, he kept his hand in the business, taking a few lucrative clients at a time.

"Last night in Las Vegas. He was at the Ricketts/Klitschko bout and had a massive coronary. Died at ringside. What were you doing last night that you didn't watch ESPN?"

"What makes you think I didn't?"

"I had to call and tell you the news this morning." I ignored her grasp of the truth and quickly switched the subject.

"Where is Lana?" Lana was Larry's fourth wife. 30-something years old and enhanced in every injectable and surgical way. A knockout for any age. Looks aside, Lana is an extremely shrewd business woman, graceful, elegant, and ruthless. A deadly combination that made her a prize for any firm that landed her.

"She's in Vegas. She was with him when he died."

"Call the airport and my car. Have the driver ready for us in thirty minutes. Have the pilot log a flight-plan to Vegas after a stop in southern Oregon."

"That airport is still socked in. Want to fly direct?" I covered the phone with my hand and spoke to my sister.

"Would you like to go to lunch with me at Emeril's Restaurant at the MGM Grand in Vegas?" She seemed puzzled by the request. Before she could answer I lifted my hand from the telephone receiver. "Las Vegas it is. Thirty minutes."

"They will be waiting," Janet promised before disconnecting. I closed my phone and turned to Becky.

"Get a shower and get dressed, we are headed to Las Vegas. A dear friend died last night at the championship fight. I need to get down there and do some damage control." An agent dying suddenly usually tips off a feeding frenzy. I wanted to be one of the first in the water, but I knew I was already hours late.

Becky did as I asked, and even though I was preoccupied, I paused to admire how attractive she is. I went to the closet with all of the clothes sent over for her and pulled out a nice gray designer suit with cream colored sheer blouse. I picked a white bustierre as a foundation piece. She would look stunning in that. Stunning and sexy.

I went into the bathroom and Becky was still in the shower, which was large enough for a football team. There were jets of water from all direction and overhead was a gigantic shower that felt like a warm rainfall when you stood under it. I got into the shower with her and offered to soap her back.

"Do we have time?" I shook my head.

"Not really."

"Then let's wait until later. After lunch maybe, if you aren't too busy."

"I can't promise you anything," I cautioned. "I don't know if I will have time. There might be a great deal of damage control to do." Larry had a lot of good qualities, but he had his faults too. If those faults ever made the press, I shuddered to think about it.

"I DARE you to try and stand me up," she warned. "If you do, you will regret it the rest of your very short life."

We finished our showers and got dressed. I told Becky to grab some extra clothes from the closet and put them into one of my suit carriers. I selected a dark gray pinstripe with three-button jacket, a white silk shirt and a pink silk tie with baby blue stripes, which matched the pin striping in my suit, if you looked close enough. I pushed the gold button on the wall and within a few seconds the butler appeared.

"Wade, I am afraid that we must check out immediately. Will you see to it that all of the suits are properly packed and the clothes that remain in the other closet are shipped to this address? I wrote Becky's address on the back of one of my cards and slipped it to him.

He nodded, almost a shallow bow. "It shall be done, Mr. Paul. I hope you enjoyed your stay and return as often as you can."

"Whenever I'm in Seattle, I'll always stay here. Thank you Wade."

By the time we reached the lobby the concierge was waiting with a bill for my signature. I signed quickly and thank him for his hospitality. I made a mental note to send season opening luxury suite Seattle Seahawks tickets to both Wade and the concierge. Just my way of telling them I appreciate their services.

We were airborne in twenty-five minutes and clipping along at just under the speed of sound. All of southern Oregon was a blanket of thick fog. We held hands and watched it glide by beneath us, an unbroken blanket of soft white clouds below. It didn't abate until we crossed the Cascades somewhere south of Mt. Shasta. Occasionally I would look over and appreciate my sister Becky's stunning good looks, now nicely complimented by the suit she was wearing.

We descended into McCarron field between two Airbus's. We taxied over to our company hangar on the private jet side of the field, right off of Las Vegas Boulevard. My company keeps a hangar and several cars and drivers available for our many clients that like to spend part of their enormous fortunes on games of chance and the other distractions available 24/7/365 in Las Vegas. We deplaned and entered a waiting stretch Lincoln Limousine. It whisked us out the private security gate and onto the Strip. I didn't tell the driver where we were headed, but he knew. Within minutes we were at the VIP entrance to the MGM Grand, the largest hotel in the universe. I spoke with our hostess, a woman I have known for several years.

"Please contact Mrs. Larry Morganthal. Have her contact me if she is up to it."

"No need Mr. Paul. Mrs. Morganthal insists that you and your wife stay in her suite. Please step this way." We were ushered to a hidden but extremely well appointed elevator hidden from the public view. It was an express to the 30th floor. We walked a short way to a green and ivory door and it opened as we approached.

"David and ........" Lana looked at my sister and then at me. Unsure of who she was seeing, but perfectly certain that it wasn't my wife Carrie.

"Lana, this is my sister, Becky. Becky this is Lana Morganthal." They held hands and kissed one another on the cheeks.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your husband, I can only imagine what you must be going through."

"Don't worry about me, Becky. Larry has been dying for several years. He finally died for good last night." She turned to me. "All of the usual suspects are already here."

I nodded. It was as I suspected. I wanted to ask Lana about a delicate matter and was trying to work out how I would phrase it. I needn't have worked my head so hard. Lana spoke for me.

"Now that Larry is gone, I'd like to join Talent Associates. I have my own book, I just need a couple of assistants and the use of some of the cool tools." She eyed my sister appreciatively.

"And I might need something special to seal the deal." She had a lustful gleam in her eye. Unwittingly she added, "I dare you to turn me down." Becky and I both laughed..

If Lana wanted to play the game, we were considering letting her.

Becky and I were prepared to see just how far Lana cared to go.

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3 Comments
DarkkBrothaOneDarkkBrothaOneabout 4 years ago
OH COME ON!!!!!!

Good story so far...how in God's name can you just leave it hanging like this?!!! Please finish!!!

oldwayneoldwayneover 16 years ago
Is There More?

Good tale, so far. I hope there is more. I have enjoyed it. Thanks for having written it.

AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Part 3

Great story, can't wait to see part 3!!!

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