Wilderness Paradise Pt. 01

"She won't let me touch her, Luke, I'm in love with her and ..."

I cut him off! Dear Abby I'm not.

"Hey, amigo, I'm her brother! Don't tell me what you do with my sister ... I don't want to go there, you understand? That's too much fuckin' information!"

"Sorry ... I didn't mean ..." he stuttered and had this look, you know, like the one little puppies get.

I actually felt for the bloke.

"Let's forget it, okay ... let's just have some fun!" I replied and wandered off to get a drink.

Later, Kyla plopped herself on my lap. She had been doing shots of tequila diluted with Mountain Dew.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear, "Do you want to fuck me, Luke?"

"What?" I was shocked but does a dog want a bone?

"I want you to be the one. I want you to take my cherry!" she affirmed, her words slurring slightly, "I've never been with anyone, Luke."

As much as I wanted to get into her panties – I mean the girl was hot – I wasn't going to take advantage of her.

"You're drunk, Kyla, and you'll regret this tomorrow. I don't want you hating me for this!" I replied not feeling half as convinced as I sounded and, as if to prove the point, the little monster reacted, hardening against her ass. Hey, I warned you – it didn't take much!

"Mmmm ... that feels nice. Come on! Let's go somewhere quiet ... please? I want this to be special and not a quickie with some jerk I don't care for sweating over me getting his rocks off! I don't want that to be my first." She said wiggling her butt against my cock, "I want it to be you, Luke. What do you say, vaquero? "

She sucked my earlobe into her mouth and tickled it with her tongue.

"What about Brian? I thought you had a thing for him?" I asked and felt like an idiot as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

What the fuck was I doing? I was talking myself out of this opportunity to nail this beautiful girl.

"I never liked him! I was flattered that he was paying attention to me ... that's all it was, Luke, I promise!"

I couldn't understand this. I had Kyla asking me to fuck her which under normal circumstances would have had us in a motel room in a New York minute. But things weren't normal – not after what had happened between Rachael and me.

"What about them? What about Rachael and James?" I asked, clinging at straws.

"Screw James!" She hissed and laughed at her double entendre then added, "Not literally!"

She giggled and wiggled some more and then kissed me gently before continuing, "I think Rachael wants you to fuck her too!"

Almost instantly, I felt my cheeks sting with the grimy prickle of guilt but I made a quick recovery, "Now I know you're drunk!"

"It's so obvious, Luke, she's has a thing for you!" she retorted and sat up.

"You're nuts! She's my sister!" I defended, faking shock, but my Benedict Arnold cock lurched rebelliously, bouncing against her ass.

For some reason the fact that Kyla acknowledged this was intensely erotic to me.

"Really? I'm nuts? Your sister wants to fuck you and I'm the crazy one!"

"What are you saying? Come on, let's get you sobered up!"

"Don't you ever wonder why she picked James? Huh? Don't you?" She asked sitting up, "She could have just about anybody but she picks this dork!" She looked straight into my eyes, paused and then answered her own question, "It's because he's safe! He doesn't threaten the fantasy of you!"

She grabbed my face holding it in her hands and stared into my eyes, "Listen, Luke, I may be just a little tipsy but that was so I would have the courage to ask you to do me. Rachael is my best friend and girls talk and confide stuff in each other ... things that would blow your mind! So-o-o, about me being crazy, let's not go there! Now what do you say? Do you want to fuck me or not?"

I was dumbfounded and sat there with her nestled on my lap. My mind was spinning with the possibilities. I knew I wanted to fuck her but I wanted to fuck my little sister even more! Could I manage a ménage à trois? That would be something. I held her tightly calculating the odds and trying to figure out what my next step should be when I saw Rachael and James coming towards us.

My sister gave us a disapproving look and then said, "It's late. Let's go home ... I'm not feeling well."

"I told you not to do that stuff," James exclaimed in his usual avuncular tone, "she's been doing tequila shots with those idiots in the corner!"

"Let's get a hotel room ... you can do tequila shots off my belly!" Kyla interjected trying to remain lively.

James looked at her, "Wow! Really?"

He looked at me hoping I would go along with Kyla. The prospect of licking the sweat off Kyla's stomach and throwing back shots of tequila seemed to appeal to him. He had been striking out and this would give him another opportunity to do something ... anything and maybe even make Rachael jealous.

I was still harboring the possibility of a ménage a trois and wondering how we could lose the Grodd when Rachael settled the issue.

"You get a room if you want. I'm going home!" she said with finality that killed any debate at all then added, "Take me home ... James!"

The way she said that sounded so oddly funny that I had to laugh but I was the only one who found any humor in it. James shrugged and followed her as we trudged out towards the parking lot.

"What a party pooper!" was Kyla's weak rejoinder.

*****

When we got to Kyla's place she leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Come on, we can sneak into my room. Mom and Dad are asleep ... James can take Rachael home."

I didn't say anything but walked her to the door and gave her a quick peck on the cheek then stepping back I said, "Get some sleep and if you feel the same way tomorrow, give me a call."

Despite the shadows cavorting across the porch, I could see the disappointment in her face. I felt terrible.

"No. Not tomorrow. This is your last chance, Luke, don't blow it," she said clinging tightly to me, "I am offering you something special and once we do it, I can never give it anyone else! No matter whatever else happens, you will always be my first!"

I pushed her back as gently as I could, "No, not like this, Kyla, I'm not doing it like this." And then I walked away.

"You're such a loser, Luke Meacham! Yeah, go on, run to your little sister ... you're both sick! You hear? Sick, sick, sick!"

There is truth to the adage about a woman scorned. Man, was she pissed! I heard the door slam and felt a pang of regret. What the heck was I doing? Her words kept ringing in my ears – sick, sick, sick ... SICK!

I hurried back to the car and was glad that the driveway was a long one. The last thing I wanted was for James and Rachael to hear that last outburst. How much did Rachael really confide in her? Did she really tell her that she wanted to fuck me? That might explain what had happened earlier. But, what was the context? You don't just come out and tell your best friend that you had a thing for your brother? I felt my cock begin to stir as thoughts of the incident with my sister filled my mind again.

We lived just a few houses down the street and drove the rest of the way in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Rachael was staring out the window so I could only discern a partial profile from the rear. Her face was set and unsmiling and wondered again what she might be thinking. I knew what James was thinking and there was a part of me that was actually feeling sorry for him. I doubt that anything would ever happen between Rachael and him and wished there was a way I could break that to him. He was wasting his time and would be better off trying to win over someone else.

James eased up to our garage and as Rachael was about to get out, he grabbed her arm, "Stay for a moment, Rachael, I need to talk to you."

She wrestled her arm free and said, "Not tonight, James, I'm really not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood ..." he grumbled pouting like a child.

If looks could kill he'd be pushing up daisies. She glared at him, took a few steps and stumbled awkwardly, grabbing a hold of my arm to steady herself and then leaned into me.

"Hey! Easy girl, easy ... I've got you." I said, holding her to me. I waved back at the Grodd, "She'll call you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride."

I heard him muttering under his breath as he backed out of the driveway.

We watched the taillights disappear and then walked up the stairs with Rachael hanging on to me, her arms wrapped around my waist. I had to half carry her and it wasn't easy; Rachael's a big girl but we finally made it without waking Mom and Dad.

"I think he was expecting a kiss ... or something," I said but she didn't reply.

When we got to her room she leaned against the doorway and asked, "What did Kyla say to you, Luke?"

I could smell the tequila on her breath along with the scent of her and it was turning me on.

"Nothing! She said nothing, really ... she was drunk," I lied.

"You're lying, Luke Meacham, I can tell ..." she stopped, waved her index finger at me and shook her head. Her words were still a bit slurred.

Here we go again. Luke Meacham? What the fuck was with that anyway?

"She's had a thing for you," she continued, "I knew that! But I know she told you some other stuff; secrets that she's sworn to keep. I just know it!"

"She didn't say anything. You're drunk too! How many shots did you do?"

"Too many!"

"What's gotten into you, Rach?"

"Funny you should ask," she slurred. "You see, doc, I have this problem ..."

She stopped, her eyes glazed over and she took an unsteady step towards me and then fell into my arms.

"I guess I need some help, bro ... I feel horrible!" she whispered.

I helped her to the side of the bed and eased her down in a sitting position before laying her back onto the pillow with her feet dangling off the edge. I took off her high-heels and when I grabbed her ankles to pull her onto the bed, the front of her dress fell away at the side-slit exposing her thigh midway to her hip. God, she was beautiful. She had closed her eyes and was either asleep or in the process of passing out. She looked so innocent and angelic that I sat by her and stroked her hair hating myself for thinking of fucking her. I had to stop this. This was my baby sister and I needed to control myself before it got out of hand.

After a while, tormented by the phantoms of guilt, I managed to overcome the destitute longings of my body. I dimmed the lights and went back to my room fighting the tortured need for her while being governed by the compulsion to adhere to some societal norm that dictated the nature of sibling relationships, that they must be platonic. It was an antiquated, pseudo-sacrosanct precept that had somehow made an impression on me.

I kept debating whether I should go back and get her out of her dress or just jerk off in the shower and sleep this off. I even considered jerking off on her but shook the notion as soon as it cropped up. I mean, it is her special dress and it would be a shame to have it ruined with semen stains! I argued the pros and the cons as I changed and by the time I had finished with the shower, I had jerked off and the edge to my passion was gone. My conscience had doused the smoldering embers of my desire.

I was relieved that I hadn't done something I might have regretted and fell into a restless slumber with thoughts of Kyla and Rachael still waltzing in my head. Sick, sick, sick ...

*****

A few hours later, I felt her presence even before she touched me. It was a premonition more than an actual sensation; a prescience that resides somewhere between sleep and reality.

"Luke ... are you awake? Luke ..." She whispered, shaking me by my shoulder.

"What ... what's the matter, Rach?" I asked blinking the sleep from my eyes and propping myself up.

I could see the hazy silhouette of her face, her eyes staring at me, glistening translucently in the darkness.

"I can't sleep. Help me get this off," she said and turned her back to me.

I sat up on the side of the bed with her standing between my knees facing away. It should have proved to be more of a challenge considering that I couldn't get it zipped during the day but by the inexplicable vagaries of chance, and despite the hypnagogic stupor, I managed to get the zipper and buttons undone almost effortlessly.

In the tawny under-glow of the nightlight I watched as she pushed the dress down, shimmying and wiggling her hips, until the dress slid to the floor. Her body gleamed auriferous, naked but for the dark outline of her tiny panties, an Aphrodite reincarnated from a different time.

She kicked the dress aside and slid into bed next to me.

"Move over," she whispered and got under the covers.

It had been quite a few years since we shared a bed. The last time was when we were kids and I remembered it well. She had been frightened by the thunder and lightning one night and had crawled in beside me without saying a word. We had slept spooned together and even then, I had loved the feel and smell of her. But that was a long time ago, long before our hormones had changed the nexus of our relationship and before she knew what a hardon was.

The bed groaned with the added weight as she settled in next to me, her body pressing in places against mine while the suffocating balloon of desire crept through me making my cock twitch and jump grazing her thigh through the flimsy material of my pajamas. My sleep addled brain was racing, trying to comprehend the implications of what was happening, when I felt her breath, hot and humid, as her mouth searched for mine. Her arms and legs wrapped gently around me but it was only when her tongue snaked into my mouth that I reacted. The levy of emotions had finally breached, creating a physical tidal wave that crashed down washing away any semblance of filial restraint.

I turned her over so she was under me and kissed her hard, sucking on her, our tongues wrestling and swirling in quiet desperation. I felt her moan and gasp into my mouth as my hands toyed with her breasts, rolling her nipples between my forefinger and thumb, pulling and pinching and squeezing, thrilling in the spongy fullness of her. Our bodies were entangled in a mess of hands and arms and thighs and feet and legs; skins fused together by the coagulating liquids of our lust. We were seeking pleasure, drawing it from each other; shamelessly and without the preoccupation of guilt. And as we continued to kiss, I could feel my sister's hips pushing into me while her fingers dug into my back. There was an urgency to her that was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

The wet, sucking of our mouths and the ragged breathing, heavy and interrupted by the cadence of heartbeats created a sensual sonnet that reverberated loudly filling the quietness of the room. I was leaning over her, pushing gently on her hips so that she was lying on her back. I traced the contours of her body, trailing down her sides to the lower slope of her abdomen, maneuvering under the lace covered band and into her panties. She spread her thighs invitingly, welcoming the invading hand that was exploring the triangle of her sex; relentless fingers searching for the kernel of pleasure at the apex of her slit. She had hardened imperceptibly while I pressed my fingertips against it, wiggling them in small circles then stroking the length of her slippery gash. I kissed her again, my tongue gliding along the roof of her mouth, probing the soft, pink sides of her cheeks, so smooth and wet and moistly reminiscent of the tender flesh buried between her thighs.

She moaned, humping back at the fingers stroking her cunt, her hips gyrating to some primal rhythm emanating from deep inside her. I had worked my way between her legs, tugging at her panties, while she raised her hips to help me slide them off of her. And when I had peeled them off I noticed the dark stain across the narrow bridge of the crotch - it was soaked through with her juices. And then there was that smell again. I was being driven mad with desire by her fragrance ... a musty odor concocted by nature to drive men crazy! There was an aching need that stemmed from the pit of my stomach that was beyond comprehension. A need that couldn't be denied - I just had to have her and it was of no consequence that she was my sister.

My cock was throbbing, sliding against the soft cotton of my pajamas, leaking and leaving wet, sticky trails on the inside as I pulled them off, throwing them to the side next to her dress. Our clothes lay tangled in a symbolic heap with mine on top of hers.

I had never seen anything quite as erotic or desirable as Rachael laying on my bed with her legs spread apart, an antipodal look of shy nervousness and wanton desire etched on her face. At that moment she was a slut and an angel, a succulent, wretched whore wanting to be fucked, a goddess of sensual desire so far morphed from the innocent, naïve girl who was my sister that I could hardly recognize her.

I knelt between her legs and then gently lowered myself onto her, reveling in the complete essence of her. And, as my body covered hers, she squirmed adjusting to the contours and the weight pressing on top of her, transmuting the feelings of warmth and softness that made her feel so incredibly delicate under me. I could feel the tender mounds of her breasts, her nipples, hard and pointy, the pounding of her heart against my chest, her breath, ragged and icy hot against my cheek. I ran my hands down the sides of her body, along her thighs pulling them up towards my waist aware of all the subtle textures of her, so firm and soft and pliable - tactile contradictions that seemed to exist all at once. I felt the velvety tickle of her pubic hair on the underside of my penis and the softness of her inner thighs pressing naked against my hips. I was quickly reaching that point of hyper-sensory perspicuity where every aspect of her was clearly defined and yet separate, merged together in some erotic concoction.

Rachael was panting in my ear, kissing my cheeks and running her hands up and down my back, caressing me one moment and digging her nails into me the next. And when I looked into her eyes, those simmering pools of lapis, they were filled with excitement and love and expectation ... and though there was a voice in the back of my head telling me to stop, that I was about to ravish my own sister, there was no way to derail what was destined to happen. At that moment I wanted her more than anything I've ever wanted and I knew she wanted this too; it was in her eyes and in the expression on her face - she wanted this in the worst possible way.

I'm not sure what makes a brother and sister desire each other. Could it be just the phase in our lives where the hormonal drive makes us ultra-libidinous? Or was it the convenience of familiarity and proximity? Or, was there something more? But no matter what it was that made us want each other, there was a sliver of atonement for me knowing that she had initiated this encounter; an appeasing of a troubled conscience that allowed me to push back any doubts I may have felt. I was content in the knowledge that this was a mutual seduction.

I kissed her again, this time, tenderly and without the urgency of our earlier kisses; enjoying the feel of the soft fullness of her lips. Her eyes were closed as she opened her mouth to me kissing me back like I had never been kissed before. I wondered where she had learned to kiss like this, whether it was James or some instinctive response embossed on her female DNA but the sensations of her tongue exploring my mouth were mind-blowing. We were joined in a state of magical bliss, sucking and tasting and sliding our tongues against the others. And then, without breaking the kiss, her hand wormed down between us, guiding my cock into the mouth of her steaming orifice. I felt her searching for her opening, so slickly moist and hot that I felt the wet warmth spreading across the domed head of my cock. Her hips wiggled under me and almost immediately I felt her stretch and the bloated tip slipped into her.