by Selena Kitt
“What are you staring at, you bloody bint?”
I shoved past her and went out into the pub, determined not to look for my sister.
Chapter Eight
Julie was right in the middle of giving me such a bad blowjob—including teeth, a grip like a vice and a bruising Hoover-like suck—that it felt like she was going to pop the head of my cock like some blistered spot. I knew I was going to have to stop her and was just about to when she sat up and asked, “Where’s the loo?”
“First door on your left.” I was glad she had to go. It didn’t just give my poor dick a break—it gave me time to think about ways to get rid of her. I could only vaguely remember her hanging on my arm earlier in the night while I watched my sister grind on the dance floor with Ken. When the pub closed down, and Dawn gave me her little finger-wagging wave on the way out, somehow Julie ended up tagging along after me while I trudged home, talking the whole while, although I’m not sure what about.
I heard a flush and sighed, yanking my jeans up over my waning cock. I knew it was crazy – I had a girl, a perfectly willing, more than sufficiently sloshed and decidedly randy girl – in my very own bedroom, and I was about to ask her to leave. And why? Because all I could do was think about my damned sister and the way she felt earlier all over me as I fucked her in the washroom of the pub? What kind of knob was I turning into?
“What are you doing here?” Dawn’s voice carried clearly through my door and I bolted out of bed to find her standing in the landing, Ken coming up the stairs behind her. Julie blocked their way down the hall, her top still half undone. I noticed Ken noticing and gritted my teeth. “What the hell, David? Mum and Dad take a trip and you decide to turn the house into a knocking shop?”
I snorted, looking pointedly at Ken, and picked up an imaginary telephone. “Hello, Pot? This is Kettle. You’re black.”
Dawn had the decency to blush, at least. “Ken’s place is… unavailable.”
“Spraying it for fleas?”
“Shut up, David.”
“Julie.” I held my hand out to her and she smiled and melted rather nicely against me in the doorway. I enjoyed the look of fury on Dawn’s face. “Let’s get back to knocking.”
“I’m telling Mum.”
“You do that.” I pulled Julie past me, into the room, and lowered my voice. “And I’ll have lots of interesting things to tell Mum about my… older… sister… the one who’s supposed to be looking out for her baby brother…”
She glanced back at Ken and then hissed. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
I grinned as she stamped her foot, her hands balled into fists at her sides, but I shut the door before she could start her building tirade and shoved a chair under the door handle so she couldn’t burst in. Julie sidled up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and taking steps back toward the bed.
“Don’t you hate having a sister?”
“You have no idea.”
She put her hand over my crotch and sighed. “You must be really ready to blow.”
“You have no idea.”
“Let me make you forget all about her.”
I sighed. Good luck with that. “Let’s give it a try.”
Afraid to let her at my poor, aching cock again, I rolled her over onto her back as we kissed, sliding down and finishing unbuttoning her top. She made happy noises and even helped me with her bra strap when I fumbled behind her back for the hooks. Her breasts were almost as full in my hands as Dawn’s, but I was right about her nipples – small and dark, like little pebbles under my tongue. I pressed her tits together and buried my face between them, feeling a little dizzy, probably still more than a little drunk. I didn’t want to admit, even to myself, that I was imagining my sister, the velvet feel of her skin, the way she gripped my hair, guiding me lower, lower…
“Oh David, yes.” Julie whimpered and wiggled, but the sound of her voice broke my little trance, brought me back to the present, where it wasn’t Dawn in my bed after all.
“SHH!” I urged her, a little too harshly, and she jumped. Even in the dark I could feel her draw back. “Sorry… It’s just… my sister… down the hall…”
“Right.”
“I’m sorry.” I really was sorry. What was I thinking? Here was this girl, a nice girl by all rights, although a little bit slutty to be willing to do this on a first date – not even a date, really. But I could forgive her, considering we’d known each other so long. Here was this nice, willing girl, and I was feeling withdrawn and hateful. I lowered my head to her breasts again in apology, licking at her nipples. She sighed and arched, her breath coming faster as I sucked them into my mouth. I experimented, pressing them together, running my tongue back and forth between her nipples.
“Oh God! YES!”
Both of us froze at the sound of my sister’s voice. It carried all the way down the hall, frenzied and loud. “Yes! Yes! YES!”
I blinked fast, glad for the darkness so Julie couldn’t see the rising colour in my face. She would have mistaken it for embarrassment anyway, but it wasn’t. I was furious.
Julie giggled. “And you thought I was being loud?”
“Fucking hell!” Gritting my teeth against my sister’s moans, I pinched Julie’s nipples, probably a little too hard, making her squeal. “You like that?” She yelped as I sucked one of them into my mouth, working the other one between my thumb and first finger, and then she moaned, her head going back, her hips pressing up against me.
I was furious with Dawn and taking it out on Julie, but I’m pretty sure the girl in my bed mistook my newfound fervour as passion and saw it as a welcome change from my former laissez-faire attitude. She grabbed my head, pressing me lower, lifting her skirt up over her hips. I heard my sister making that tell-tale “uh-uh-uh” and knew, whatever they were doing, that she was going to come. The thought made me crazy and I pressed my face between Julie’s legs with a pained groan, finding the gusset of her knickers wet, the smell of her making me even more dizzy.
“Yes, Davey,” Julie whispered. It was the name they used to call me in sixth form–the name my sister used when she teased me. “Yes, yes, please, lick it, please…”
I yanked the material aside, exposing the soft, dark down of her pubic hair. I was grateful she wasn’t shaved smooth – I didn’t want any more reminders of Dawn.
“Tell me,” I insisted, parting her lips with my fingers, hearing her whimper. “Tell me you want it.”
“Oh God.” Her hips rocked up toward my mouth. “Please, yes. I want it. I want it!”
My sister was getting fucked. I knew the steady, staccato sound of her voice, rising with her orgasm, as a cock slammed into her again and again. That little weasel was fucking my sister. Never mind that I wanted to be that bloke – never mind that I had been that bloke, earlier tonight, rutting between my own sister’s legs like some wild boar that didn’t know the difference between food and rubbish. What was I turning into? My cock ached, listening to the rolling rise of her voice, the sweet catch in it, the way it lowered when she begged, “Fuck me hard! Harder! Come on! Come on!”
Was she thinking about me, I wondered? And what if she wasn’t? The thought made me go cold inside, remembering what she’d said earlier, about how wrong what we were doing really was. As if I didn’t know that? As if I hadn’t agonised over it from the beginning? Now that I’d given in, she was…
It came to me that she was doing this on purpose—being loud, putting on a show—to prove something? But what?
Julie wriggled out of her knickers, spreading her legs wide again, inviting me with every rock and sigh. Listening to my sister was making me insane with jealousy and lust. I wanted to go down there, burst into the room, kick Ken’s whiny little arse from one end of the room to the other, and then give my sister the spanking she deserved—but I knew I couldn’t. I knew I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, shouldn’t even care. But I did. Far too much.
The girl whose legs were spread f
or me seemed to notice my hesitation, sense my dilemma. God, I hope not. I couldn’t see her face in the dark, but she was quiet now, her breathing slower. I made a decision, then and there, that I was going to make Julie feel so good she’d scream with pleasure—and maybe, just maybe, give Dawn a little dose of her own medicine.
“Louder,” I urged, parting her lips again with my fingers. “Tell it to me louder.”
I don’t know if she understood. Part of me thought she did, from the way she froze for a moment, her breath caught—but she did it anyway. That act alone excited me.
“Lick my cunt!” she insisted and I knew her voice was carrying down the hall, all the way into my sister’s bedroom. I smiled in triumph, lowering my face to Julie’s waiting pussy, my tongue parting the soft folds of flesh, searching for her clit.
“Oh yes,” she whispered, lifting her hips to my mouth. Then her hands were in my hair, mashing my lips and tongue against her, grinding her wetness against my face, and her voice rose louder, no longer asking or begging, but insisting, demanding. “Lick it! Yes! Oh God! Don’t stop! Make me come!”
That was my plan, of course, but it was out of my hands, now. Julie was using me, my mouth, taking herself there, and every word and moan reverberated through me. I was all tongue for her, letting her rub herself against my face, and I found myself unzipping my jeans, stroking my throbbing cock through the material as she twisted against me.
I couldn’t hear my sister at all now as Julie thrashed and bucked on my bed, and I was so relieved I might have sworn eternal loyalty to her or some such rot if she’d asked me in that moment. The girl was coming, and coming hard, her moans filling my head as she flooded my mouth with the sweetness of her cum. She rubbed herself off on my face until I couldn’t breathe and didn’t care, and then she pulled my head back, still panting from her climax, and whispered, “Now… let’s give them a real show. Get up here and fuck me.”
Hardly believing what I was hearing, I crawled up between her legs, my face smeared with her juices, and she kissed me, sucking my tongue deep into her mouth as she wrapped her legs around my waist. Her hand was searching between us and I helped her, shoving my jeans down, groaning when she wrapped her fingers around my cock.
“Julie…” I said her name, like an apology, and somehow I think she knew it, but it didn’t matter. She was going to give me what I wanted—and I was grateful for that, too. She guided me into her wetness and it was like sliding through butter. Wiggling underneath me, she arched and pressed into the saddle of my hips, digging her bare heels into my lower back to make me fit more perfectly inside of her. Her muscles were taut and stretched around my cock, making me heady with the sensation, eager to thrust toward completion, but I held back, caught between my desire and my fear of where it might lead.
“Come on! Give me that big, hard dick!” Julie’s nails dug into my back as she began to move underneath me, her body twisting and turning in my arms. I gave her what she wanted. Not just because she wanted it—and it was clear to me she really did—or even because I wanted it, but because I knew my sister was listening. I could feel her listening, could sense the rising colour in her cheeks, the troubled pallor underneath.
As much as I later would have liked to say I fucked Julie that first time because I really wanted her, it wasn’t about that in the least. I fucked her because I wanted to be fucking my sister—I wanted to make Dawn jealous, wanted her to wish it was my cock thrusting into her, my mouth muffling her moans as I rode her squalls of pleasure.
And Julie put on quite a show. She gave such an outstanding performance I couldn’t tell anymore whether she was acting or not when she threw her head back and called my name, begging me to fuck her harder, faster, deeper, more, more, more… I didn’t know until I felt her cunt spasm, actually felt her muscles flutter and tighten around my prick as she reached her climax and I realised this was no act, at least, not anymore. She was coming under me, shuddering, biting my shoulder to keep in her screams, which came anyway, wails of pleasure torn out of her throat with every thrust.
And Dawn was yelling at my door, knocking fast and hard, thrusting against the chair I’d propped there to keep anyone out. “David! Christ! The bloody neighbours can hear you!”
“Fuck off!” I gasped, looking down into Julie’s pained expression, the exquisite torture etched there making me feel protective and affectionate all of a sudden. I wanted to scoop her up, crawl inside her, die. And I hadn’t even come. Wasn’t going to, either. I pulled out, collapsing next to her on the bed as she purred like a kitten and cooed like a pigeon, curling her soft body against mine. I rolled to my side, hiding my still throbbing erection, letting her spoon against me and pull the covers up.
“How was that?” she murmured, kissing my shoulder blade, the tickle of her nails along my side as she slid an arm under mine a sweet reminder of her femininity.
“A stellar performance, ta.” God, that was mean. I realised it right away and meant to take it back, but I didn’t know how. Still, she didn’t say anything. Neither did my sister. Dawn had given up and gone away – or was still listening outside the door.
Either way, it didn’t matter. I closed my eyes against all of it, my head spinning, and slipped toward sleep.
—
The ache of beer sitting in my bladder like a thousand stone woke me up, and I slid out from under Julie’s arm, stumbling toward the bog in the dark. The edge of the chair was still wedged under the door and I set it aside. Everything was quiet, the hallway a dark tunnel as I felt my way.
I shut the door and turned on the light out of habit. Mum insisted my aim at the toilet bowl was bad enough during the day, let alone at a sleepy two in the morning darkness. I was mid-stream in a heavy flow, my kidneys ridding themselves of the copious amounts of alcohol I’d consumed all night, when the door opened. I’d forgotten to lock it. Afraid it might be Ken, I turned my back towards the door, calling over my shoulder, “Give me a minute!”
“Just one?” The door snicked closed and my sister turned the lock behind her.
I shook off, my heart hammering, and dropped my shirt to cover myself—my shorts and trousers were in my room—turning to face her. She was wearing Ken’s shirt, navy blue button down, open from neck to the tail ends that hung almost to her knees.
“Jesus, Dawn—don’t you know how to knock? What if it had been Julie in here?”
“So what if it was?” My sister cocked her head at me, her eyes slightly narrowed as she slid up onto the counter while I turned on the tap to wash my hands. “I’d like to have a talk with that skank.”
“Look who’s talking.” I reached across her to dry my hands and she grabbed my arm, pulling it around her back.
“What makes me more of a slut?” she whispered, hooking her bare foot behind my knee and spreading her legs to pull me in close. “Letting Ken take my arse tonight or me wanting to fuck my own brother?”
My breath caught and I chided my cock for rising at the thought of my sister’s arse in the air, that puckered hole she had asked me to finger waiting for the plunge of something much larger and demanding. It wasn’t listening, though, my cock. It had a mind of its own. It knew just what it wanted—and what it wanted was sitting right here splayed on the washroom counter in the treacherous form of my sister.
“Come on, baby brother.” Dawn slipped her arms around my neck, her breath hot against my ear. “Enquiring minds want to know. Which is worse?”
“Dawn…” I swallowed and closed my eyes as she shifted, hooking her other leg around me and snuggling her crotch right up against mine. “God…”
“I was thinking about you the whole time.”
Her whispered words stopped everything inside of me. It was what I’d been afraid of and secretly – or not so secretly – hoping for. I slid my arms around her waist, under Ken’s shirt, which reeked of some awful cologne and was giving me a headache. Her skin was soft as down and I wanted to bury every part of myself in it.
I almos
t choked on my own words. “I was thinking of you, too. I couldn’t help myself.”
She sighed and melted in my arms, turning her face up to be kissed. I hated the thought of her mouth anywhere near the twat sleeping right now in her bed, but I didn’t taste a trace of him on her when I slipped my tongue in to touch hers. She tasted just like she always did—sweet, a little like almonds and honey—and I had a feeling she hadn’t, at any point, kissed Ken tonight like she was kissing me now, her mouth hungry and eager, her hands roaming all over my body as if making sure I was real, solid, and here to stay. At least, I hoped she hadn’t.
“Did you like his cock in your arse?” I bit the words off, each one, leaving angry red love bites on her neck as I pulled the shirt down over her shoulders. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves, lifting my shirt off so she could press herself fully against me, her breasts flattening against my chest as her mouth sought mine again.
But I wouldn’t kiss her. Instead, I cupped her chin, squeezing her mouth with my thumb and first finger, tugging gently at her lower lip. “Answer me. Did you like his cock in your tight little arse?”
I’d seen plenty of pictures of anal sex—Naughty Bits did a whole issue devoted to it once—but I don’t think my sister knew how much I’d thought about it, how that sweet, dark hole intrigued and called me into its humid depths. The thought of my sister’s arse up in the air being fucked made me want to bend her over right now and shove it into her with a force that would wake both Julie and Ken and make Dawn wail.
“Why? Are you jealous?” Her tone was teasing as she jerked her head out of my hand and reached between us, grabbing onto the steel length of me and squeezing out a torturous rhythm.
I rolled my eyes convincingly—I hoped. “Why should I be jealous of him? The guy’s all foam and no beer.”