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Oh? We weren’t just a cock and a pussy: my sister Vicky’s voice:

“This is good, so fucking good!”

“Um-hmm! Funny, I was just thinking that she, your pussy, wasn’t going to let him forget why he’s there.”

“She won’t! She wants you to suck my nipples.”

“Hm-hmm! I do, but I didn’t know that she knew about them.”

“Fuck you! Suck them!”

We chuckled, and she leaned back. The movement on my cock felt good. Her hands offered my breasts to me. I sucked the nearest one, and she moaned with a nod, and her pussy and asshole tightened, reminding my finger to move again. She moaned again with a nod. I sucked and wiggled my finger in her asshole. Pussy and cock renewed their friendship with a hug and twitch, and then several more, before she wanted me to suck her other nipple.

Then Vicky murmured for me to hold her and leaned further back. I supported her with my other hand, and one of hers dropped down between us, its fingers creeping through our pubic hair. Then her knuckles were rubbing on me. I knew where her finger tips were, without having to hear her moan.

This was it, what she had been wanting, fingers doing everything they could to make us come! To make pussy and cock come together – one flesh! Damn! You didn’t have to think of that expression! But we were, and were doing everything we could to confirm it – or to deny it?!

Pussy and Cock only wanted to confirm it. Pussy had never squeezed like that before, and Cock was throbbing in her so arousing grasp, the sensations undiluted by having to move in it. Oh, yes, there were desperately moaning groaning and gasping sounds from somewhere, that seemed to be trying to express Pussy’s and Cock’s desperate desire for culmination, release, relief from the almost unbearable sensations they were giving each other. They got it, finally, and the sounds shifted from gasps and groans to gasps and long, drawn out moans. Cock and Pussy enjoying a last embrace.

It was a minute or two, before Vicky and I regained possession of them. We had dropped back on the bed, she on me. When her legs had extend next to mine, I had wondered where they had been before. They hadn’t been locked behind my ass. At least, if they had been, I hadn’t noticed, and I sure hadn’t wanted to get away. I chuckled. She murmured:

“Whatever you were thinking, chuckling, it was too good for that.”

“Sorry. It was. I just was chuckling about your suggestion that I could want to get away.”

“You didn’t. That’s all right, then.”

She raised her head, and we kissed, almost a kiss siblings could share. Just almost; her hips moved, and my cock slipped out and and dropped down. We chuckled. I remarked:

“Hope you weren’t expecting that we would do more.”

“Like in the kitchen? Hmm? Maybe, but it was so good, too good to want to do more.”

I hugged her, nodding. We lay there quietly. It was nice to feel her lying on me, our stomachs moving as we breathed. Then I felt her dripping on me. I murmured:

“Maybe wash?”

“Not just ‘maybe’.”

We got up and did, just exchanging pleased, satisfied smiles. It was time for dinner. When we returned to the kitchen – with the soap dispenser – and looked at the clock, she said:

“Good thing that we didn’t do that while waiting for the timer again.”

She was right; it would have rung long before we were finished, but we now had to wait for the oven to heat up before we could have another dinner of TV meals. We had another beer.

Again, we didn’t have much to say. What does one say after having had sex like that, especially with one’s sister? Could it ever be like that with just a girlfriend, a wife? I had never thought about marriage till then, just assumed that sex then would be, should be the best. Now I had an entirely new concept of what “the best” could be, not just what we had just done, cock-sucking, pussy-licking. Everything we had done was better than anything I had imagined.

We had had a couple of sips in silence, Vicky also not saying anything. Then she smiled mildly. I smiled in return. She smiled again, this time a little wryly, and stepped closer. Instinctively, I held out my arms. Even if she hadn’t been naked or my sister, it would have been my reflex, not that I had ever before felt it. She smiled with a nod and came in my arms. Her breasts touched me, and then her hips. Whatever this was about, it was nice. She looked up at me and murmured:

“You’re the best. Well, I hope not, if you don’t mind, but I can’t imagine anything better.”

“You are too,” I replied, embracing her lightly, then adding:

“Sort of what I was thinking, that all my vague ideas of what could be good haven’t been anything like … well, what we do.”

“Um-hmm, like that. I hope not, but doubt it.”

“Hope not too,” I agreed.

I held her closer, and she, me. We kissed, enough that our hips rocked together. She loosened her embrace, and I let my arms drop. She stepped back and murmured:

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

I had a sudden inspiration illegal bahis and replied:

“The first time has to seem the best.”

“Hnn? The first times, all of them, especially tonight.”

“Still, the ‘first times’, then,” I replied, trying to justify my previous remark.

She smiled mildly and replied:

“You don’t believe that, either.”

“Just hoping.”

“Not very seriously?”

“No,” I admitted.

We both smiled wryly, and drank, more than a sip. She nodded towards the living room, and we went and pretended that we were reading the newspaper until the timer rang. When she put another three TV dinners in the oven, she remarked:

“Mom didn’t know how we burn up calories.”

“We didn’t either.”

“No, but I did think that we didn’t want to on full stomach.”

“No, it’s so nice to feel yours breathing against mine, after we have.”

“Yours too, against mine.”

We smiled at each other for our shared experience. She remarked:

“We’ve got lots of beer.”

I nodded at her suggestion. As she got two more, I replied:

“As long as we don’t drink and drive.”

We chuckled and drank. I set the table again, and we waited for the timer to ring, sipping in the kitchen, exchanging relaxed smiles. Whatever others thought about what we were doing, we were comfortable with it. We were very comfortable with it, I suddenly recognized, when I realized that we were standing, facing each other, completely naked, unaroused. Would I recall that, when our parents returned home? If I did, it was going to be embarrassing. I wanted to say something about that, but didn’t know what, and didn’t want disturb our very comfortable acceptance of how we were.

We had another sip. Then my sister shrugged with a slight shrug and quizzical expression and murmured:

“Funny, a little, just standing here all naked.”

“What I was thinking. Not that it’s ‘funny’, just that it’s so nice that we’re comfortable with it.”

“Very, but just still a little funny.”

“Don’t want to think about it, when they’re back home.”

“I sure hope not!”

We drank to that with wry smiles. We had had another sip, when she said:

“I wonder what they’re doing.”

“Sleeping at this hour in Europe. Where are they?”

We went and checked their itinerary and spent the rest of the time till the timer rang discussing what we knew about their plans, what they wanted see and do. Vicky recalled that our father was going to visit a colleague or two, who were at universities in Europe. We had finished our beers. With our meal, we started another one. We cleaned up, and then with a nod at the TV, agreed to watch something. I got the towel for us to sit on, and we sat down.

Like the previous evening, my arm was immediately around her shoulders, my hand holding her breast, and hers was in my lap, her fingers gathering up my balls. There was nothing erotic about it, just a now familiar habit. I did briefly wonder if our parents sat like that, when we weren’t around, but then followed the news on TV. Our fingers did move a little, but just unconsciously in recognition of where they were.

When the news finished, the next program on that channel was a political report from Washington, not the sort of thing we watched, unless our parents wanted to. Neither of us suggested changing channels, and we watched for a minute or two. Vicky’s fingers jostled my balls. Without turning to look at me, she murmured:

“Going to have to use a tampon tonight. Maybe I don’t really, but after all we’ve done, maybe that changes things. Can we do it one more time?”

I moved my fingers and replied:

“If you want to. On a full stomach?”

“I’ll make it easy for you, just sit on you.”

“If that’s all you want to do?”

“I think so, just move my hips on you; that was good.”

“It was, and rub yourself.”

“Hm-hmm! Probably, if you want me to.”

“Just wanted to be sure it would be good for you.”

“Hmm! How selfless of you! It won’t be, unless it is for you too.”

“It will be; you don’t have to worry about that.”

We both purred, and our fingers fondled a little more purposefully, until my cock was too large for her to keep it in her hand with her fingers down around my balls. We each nodded, and got up. She grabbed the towel, and I turned off the TV, and we returned to our parents’ bedroom in the late light of the summer evening and to their bathroom. She used the toilet. While I did, she remarked:

“Don’t know if we’ll do that again in the morning, in the shower.”

“We don’t have to. Next week.”

“Next week,” she confirmed with a smirk, and we washed ourselves.

My cock had forgotten to listen, while it was doing what it did most of the time. When that thought occurred to me, I wondered if I had peed more often Saturday and Sunday than I had had orgasms. Had she? We were going to have to tell him what we were going to do.

When she had flung back the covers, she looked at him with the same recognition, illegal bahis siteleri and suggested:

“We can both do it a little first.”

“Been wanting to all day, if we can stop on time.”

“I did this morning. You said I didn’t have to before dinner.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I replied with a grin and lay down.

She lay down and waited for me to get comfortable with my head on her thigh. Then we aroused each other the best way to start. She did remember to stop in time. When she stopped sucking my cock, I then remembered and rolled back. With a chuckling moan, she turned around and straddled me, leaning down over me. I liked that she let me guide my cock to her opening and easily found it. We both moaned, as it slipped in, her hips descending on mine. I suddenly thought that beating off was never going to be as good again, now that my cock knew how a pussy felt – or a mouth sucking it did.

She held still, leaning over me with her hands on the bed next to my shoulders. Her pussy tightened, and my cock twitched, and we both moaned again. Then she hummed, smiling at me in the dim light, and murmured:

“I just have to have it one more time.”

I nodded, and she sat up. We had to moan again from sensations of the movement in her pussy. She held still again and murmured:

“It just feels sooo good.”

“Um-hmm,” I agreed and reached up and held her breasts.

She agreed with a nod and then began to rock her hips to and fro on mine. We moaned again. As she continued, making my cock twitch and her pussy clutch, we exchanged more moans. Then she rose up a little and experimented with circling her hips. The new sensation made me moan, and she moaned. Her nipples were pressing in my palms. I drew my fingers together on her firm breasts and squeezed her nipples. She gasped slightly, but nodded with a chuckling moan and drew her shoulders back, pulling them in the grasp of my fingers. I pulled in return, and she moaned again.

Her hips had relaxed, resting on mine again. I twisted her nipples a little, making her moan, and she began to rock her hips again. My cock was loving it, her pussy too, squeezing it.

“So good,” she murmured. I nodded with a moan, delighted by her confirmation that she agreed with my thought.

For how long did she continue to arouse us that way, just rocking her hips? It seemed like a very long time that we enjoyed the arousal, for me – for my cock – just below the point of no return. I was expecting her to reach down and begin the rub her pussy, but she didn’t. Was it being just as arousing for her, so tantalizingly arousing? How long could we both stand it? Why didn’t she rub? Did she want her last time take forever?

She suddenly dropped down on me and muttered: “Oh fuck!”

It sounded resigned, desperate, as though she had given up on our hovering just on the edge; sounded like she couldn’t stand it any longer, just had to have it.

We fucked. I dug my heels in the mattress, and our hips pounded together. We gasped and groaned from our increased arousal and the exertion. I knew that her pussy was clenching my cock, but that sensation was lost in the greater sensation of its moving in and out as fast as it could, as fast as we could slap our hips together.

“Fuck! Her pussy was wetting me before my cock spurted, but only a stroke before it did! And that was only the first of several thrusts and spurts deep in her pussy, but she had come first!

She had collapsed on me, gasping and sighing, her stomach heaving against mine. Mine was heaving just as much, and I was probably gasping and sighing just as much, but I was only aware that she was. I was pleased that her last fuck before her period had been so good; yeah, a little proud that I had made her come first, if only by a stroke.

When her pussy clutched my cock again, it didn’t twitch. She rocked her hips to straighten out her legs, and it slipped out.

“Fucked out,” I thought, thinking that we had really had enough for one day, then connecting the expression with my cock’s slipping out of her fucking pussy. No, that wasn’t nice. Yeah, we fucked, but “fucking pussy,” “fucking cock,” were crude, inappropriate expressions.

We almost dozed off with her lying on me. Then we stirred and rolled on our sides, our arms around each other. She murmured:

“Thanks. That was just what I wanted.”

“Um-hmm,” I replied, and we were silent and fell asleep.

We rolled apart during the night. I was about to get comfortable again, when she muttered:

“Oh shit! We forgot,” and got out of bed.

When she left the room, I remembered that she had planned to use a tampon before we went to sleep. Of course, she had to go to our bathroom to get it. I had once seen her supply in the back of drawer in the bathroom. I wondered if she had just remembered, or felt that her period was starting, however that felt, or worse. She returned and murmured:

“No damage done,” and got back under the covers. I mumbled something and fell asleep canlı bahis siteleri again.

I was already awake in the morning, when she rolled closer behind me and asked softly:

“Awake?”

“Um-hmm. Good morning.”

“You too. Sorry, if I woke you up last night.”

“‘We forgot’.”

“Yeah, but it’s all right.”

“‘No damage done’,” I replied, quoting her again.

“You were awake. No. Hmm! Maybe it will finish on Sunday.”

“I hope so.”

She hummed, and I turned back to her. When we put our arms around each other, not really embracing, my hand discovered that she had put on panties. She remarked:

“Yeah, just habit, I guess; let’s me remember.”

“You can forget?”

“Sometimes, has happened, forgot to change them.”

“Hmm? I guess that’s part of it, something guys don’t know about.”

“Better to find out about it with me. I don’t really need the panties; we can still shower together.”

“If you want to. Can you go with it in there?”

“Toilet? Yeah, of course, You have to?”

“Always do in the morning.”

We got up and did, using the toilet, and then taking our shower. She immediately washed her pussy, implying that I shouldn’t, and only washed my cock. It was still, of course, a little aroused, but our shower didn’t have the erotic undertones the other ones had had. We dressed before we made breakfast, and didn’t kiss before we left the house. As she remarked:

“Just like any two brother and sister.”

In the evening, we kept our clothes on and cooked dinner, drinking beer. I actually enjoyed helping her with the cooking. When I said so, she joked that she would tell our mother to have me help her. I complained, of course, saying it should remain a secret between us.

“Like everything else we do in here,” she replied with smirk.

“Just like that!”

We drank to that. After dinner and cleaning up, we spent a quiet evening. It wasn’t difficult. I wondered if we had done so much that we didn’t feel the urge, or whether it was just in respect of the fact that she couldn’t. Either way, it was nice. When we were getting in bed, she smiled at me and asked:

“If you want me to?”

“Kind of unfair, very unfair, especially because you also get aroused.”

“Still, if you want me to?”

“I’ll try not to; don’t ask again.”

“Just let me know, if you have trouble going to sleep.”

We said good night, and lay back to back. I did have trouble going to sleep, but eventually did.

When I woke up at dawn, I had my arm around her, which was very nice and familiar, but I couldn’t remember how we got that way. My hand wasn’t on her breast. How many – how few – night had we slept together, and that could happen without my waking up? Oh! I recognized that my cock was stiff and nestled behind her ass. That too, without my having woken up? Oh, I had been dreaming, something very vague, but I thought that girl with the too tight blouses had been involved. We hadn’t done anything, like I had told my sister, and we hadn’t in my dream, which I couldn’t recall, but why was my cock then stiff? Involuntarily, my hips moved, my cock moving in a nice, warm space.

Vicky responded with an almost silent “hnn?” She could still be asleep. Then her breathing changed, and then after a couple of breaths, her hand discovered mine, and then moved it to her breast. My cock liked that and twitched.

“Oh?” she remarked softly. Her hand left mine and slid down over her hip and found my cock. She snorted softly and murmured:

“If it’s like that, I’d better do it.”

“I said you shouldn’t – too unfair – your then being aroused.”

“You’re trying to be too fair. I can’t let you go to work with it like this.”

Her fingers were now holding it. I replied:

“If you have to, too?”

“But no one can see, if I wear that bra.”

“He’ll probably forget, and if I wear jockey shorts.

“I don’t want him to forget.”

Her fingers were making sure that he couldn’t, and continued for a moment or two. Then she said:

“Oh, I know; I can just do this, like Saturday morning. That won’t be so arousing for me – I don’t think – and then he can forget, then I won’t mind if he forgets for a while.”

With a chuckle, I squeezed her breast and rolled back. She turned over and pushed to covers down, and found my cock with her other hand. She smiled at me, looking pleased with her solution, and said:

“Hi, good morning,” and glanced down at my cock, adding: “both of you.”

“From both of us too,” I replied and made my cock twitch.

She chuckled and lowered her head on my shoulder and began to rub my cock. She hummed cheerfully, and I did. Her hand slowed down, and she chuckled, then remarking:

“Oh, this is going to be good. We haven’t done anything since night before last; should be lots.”

“I hope so.”

“Hm-hmm! More than Saturday morning? Did you do it to yourself Friday night?”

“Didn’t you?”

“Um-hmm, so I guess you did too.”

“Like most nights.”

“Oooh, just 12 hours, and now it’s been … maybe 30 hours, two and half times longer. That much more?”

“I doubt it; Saturday morning was more than I can ever remember.”

She turned her face up with a grin and said:

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