Wiping sweat from my brow with a finger and flicking the moisture off, I sipped the last of chilled white wine, the glass dripping condensation onto my lap. Heat smothered me; a hot, humid, oppressive heat that made breathing difficult. It reminded me why I’d fled Florida and never returned. I hate humidity.
Grass tickled the bare soles of my feet. It felt cool compared to the radiant late-afternoon sun. Bright laughter regularly pierced the air.
“They seem happy enough,” I observed to my sister, watching Sylvie and Amanda playing a game of dare with the lawn sprinkler in their swimsuits; waterspouts arcing through the air, an aqua fan slowly waving back and forth, sun making the drops twinkle. A small rainbow appeared and disappeared with each cycle.
“Kids are resilient,” Lauren answered. “More wine?”
“Sure.” I held out the glass to her. She sat next to me on a cheap lawn chair, a small folding aluminum table between us. “It’s nice wine. What is it?”
Pouring the pale yellow wine, she said, “Pinot Grigio.” She emptied the last of the wine into her glass.
A sip and I sighed with enjoyment; cool, crisp, clean, with hint of lemon and melon. I really shouldn’t be drinking in the sun. It always goes straight to my head.
“So, how are you really?” I asked, studying Lauren.
She smiled slightly, took a sip of wine, and said, “Could be better, could be worse,” her free hand, palm down, tipping back and forth.
More towards the worse, I thought. Small stress lines formed at the outsides of her eyes. Her smile, one that had the ability to lift spirits, looked strained.
“Peter?” I asked.
She shrugged, smiled, and sipped wine. We watched her daughters playing, the silence between us a bit odd. Five years since we’d last seen each other and you’d think we’d have much to talk about.
Eventually, with the last of the wine gone, Lauren asked if I wanted more, making to rise.
“Let me,” I offered, grabbing the empty bottle.
The kitchen was as hot and oppressive as outside; no air conditioning, no fan, the air stagnant. I did my nosy thing - opening cupboards, inspecting, and finally opened the fridge. A second bottle of wine was chilling in the door.
When I returned to the yard and sat, twisting the bottle cap off, I asked, “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”
Being a snoop, I’d noticed her cupboards were full of generic brands and sparsely stocked. Her fridge contained leftovers carefully stored in plastic containers. It wasn’t what I’d expected. Lauren used to be a foodie - loving fresh ingredients - and an accomplished cook. The kitchen/family room was spotless, but furniture was worn and old and I didn’t recognize any of it from years ago.
“There’s nothing going on, Ryan,” she insisted.
“It’s Peter, isn’t it?”
Lauren sighed and nodded. “He’s behind on alimony.”
“How far behind?” I asked, anger arriving. They’d divorced four years ago. I’d never taken to him. He’d proven to be self-centered, loud and brash, with an overinflated sense of self importance. I’d never understood my sister’s attraction to him.
Lauren was silent, watching her daughters as she sipped her wine.
“Lauren? How far behind?” I asked again.
“Jesus! Three years?” I asked, shocked. “How are you surviving?”
“We economize. The girls have learned not to ask for things.” She turned to look at me. “I work a couple of part time jobs.”
Wiping away sweat from my forehead, I felt hotter, anger contributing to my discomfort. “Can I . . .”
“Don’t, Ryan,” Lauren interrupted. “We’re fine.”
“Actually, I was going to offer to go have a chat with Peter. Set him straight. I’d enjoy it. So can I?”
Lauren laughed. “If you can find him, go ahead. The courts can’t find him.”
“Mommy! Look!” Amanda yelled, running and jumping through the sparkling fan of water waving back and forth, a cool wall pierced by a leaping girl.
“Looks like a lot of fun,” Lauren said, smiling with pleasure. A sparkle of joy entered her shocking deep blue, sapphirine eyes. For just a moment I caught a glimpse of my sister as I remembered her, bright, happy-go-lucky, her amber hair - a shade somewhere between dark blonde and red, and a ready smile.
Now, at thirty-two, she’d cut her hair to shoulder length and pulled it back in a small ponytail. She wore no jewelry, no makeup, and dressed down; jeans and a simple cotton shirt.
She had never been anything more than a five-foot three dynamo, but now her jeans hung off her, her arms very thin, the bones in her hands and wrists noticeably fragile. My sister either wasn’t eating or she was worrying herself into ill health. My anger was now displaced by worry.
“Let’s go out for dinner. My treat,” I suggested.
“Ryan, you don’t have to . . .”
“I want to. It’s been five years. It’s time I spoiled my nieces,” I insisted, cutting her off.
Sylvie and Amanda were thrilled with the suggestion and, even though we were going out to a casual restaurant - Jumpin’ Jim’s Roadside Tap & Grill - they dressed up.
Amanda, the youngest, wore a frilly short purple skirt, matched with a purple Tee, small plastic wristbands festooning both wrists. Sylvie, as befitted a young girl, wore a pretty lemon yellow dress cinched at the waist, with white sandals, her frizzy, voluminous, and curly sandy-blonde hair pulled back at the sides with pins. Her hair refused to behave in the humidity so she was constantly pushing back wayward strands, frowning in annoyance.
Amanda had no such problems. Her hair had taken the red side of her mother’s and was long and straight. Interestingly, her eyes were pale honey with a hint of yellow, her sister, Sylvie, azure blue, not as intense as her mother’s.
Dinner was a lot of fun. Lauren, aside from playing Gunnery Sergeant between the two, couldn’t get a word in edgewise, so she sipped wine and smiled, looking relaxed.
Amanda was the most vocal, bombarding me with questions, “Uncle, how long are you staying?” and “What do you do?” and “Where do you live?” and “I’m in third grade now. Were you ever in third grade? It’s hard!”
Sylvie, trying to be mature, asked what I did, talked about her hobbies (soccer and volleyball), and shyly asked me if I was married, what was my wife like, how long have you been married? “Is she pretty? Do you have kids?”
Lauren laughed and told her daughter, “Don’t ask too many personal questions. Your uncle doesn’t talk about that stuff.”
Sylvie immediately turned to me and asked, “Why not? Are you embarrassed? You shouldn’t be! Oh! You mean you’re divorced, like Mom?”
Eventually, when we returned home, Lauren chased the girls, herding them into the bathroom to wash, forcing them to change for bed, and finally, after they’d both come out to the yard to shyly kiss my cheek goodnight, Lauren joined me on the lawn with a last glass of white wine.
“Thanks,” she said, sipping her drink. “They really enjoyed themselves.”
“No need to thank me. I had fun. I’ve got a couple of great nieces. You’ve done an incredible job of raising them.”
Lauren smiled softly with pride. “They are great. The light of my life.” After a comfortable couple of minutes of silence, she asked, “How’s your photography going?”
I was honest. “It’s worn me down. It’s hard to go into war-torn regions and not feel for the victims. Some of the things I’ve seen in Somalia and Iraq and Syria are heartbreaking.”
Taking a sip of wine, I swallowed and continued, “It finally got to me. It’s been too hard. I’ve taken a couple of years off from the Washington Post to try to find balance again.”
“That bad?” Lauren asked, looking at me.
“Worse. Thirteen years of chasing death and destruction, and constantly being on the move, caught up to me. I’ve been suffering from depression. Most mornings I couldn’t remember what country I was in when I woke up and, after a while, the horrors all looked the same, whether caused by suicide bombers or starvation or civil war, and that was even worse.”
“You look frazzled at the seams,” Lauren observed.
“So do you.”
Lauren laughed. “I have my girls. What do you have?”
“Nothing,” I answered.
She became serious. “That’s not good, Ryan. Don’t you have anyone in your life?”
I shook my head and stretched my legs out, bending my feet and toes up, stretching my soles. The evening, now dark, had finally cooled to the point I was no longer sweating. Crickets sang their night songs. The scent of rich earth mixed with the bouquet of flowering tropical plants filled the air, along with the distinctive hint of rotting vegetation unique to hot, humid climates. Insects buzzed.
Lauren broke another silence. “Where do you live now?”
“Colorado? Really?” she asked. “Is it nice?
“It’s beautiful. It’s dry, no humidity, and it has real seasons,” I told her. “Not like here in Florida.”
Lauren laughed. “You always hated the heat here. Do you remember the heat rashes you used to get?”
“Damn right I do! God I hated it here. What happened to the house?”
“The family house in the Everglades?”
I nodded. We’d grown up in the ramshackle house, fifty years past its prime off the Tamiami Trail, Dad was a truck driver, Mom a stay at home wife; relics of the hippy era they’d grown up in.
“It was sold. Peter convinced me the money would be better invested elsewhere. Then he lost it all,” Lauren said quietly, looking up into the dark purple sky.
“What an asshole,” I commented. “Why’d you ever marry that idiot in the first place?”
Lauren smiled. “I thought he was a nice guy. He wasn’t. He gave me two beautiful girls, though, so I’m not complaining.”
Taking another sip of wine, and feeling the buzz of alcohol consumed gradually over a long afternoon in the heat, I asked, “Tell me the truth, Lauren. How bad are things?”
Lauren sighed. “Pretty bad. We’ll be moving into a rental apartment soon.” She looked around at the simple backyard. “I’m not going to miss this place, but the girls will.”
“I’m going to throw something out here,” I said. “Don’t answer right away. Just think about it.”
Lauren turned to look at me, her sapphirine eyes sharp, almost glowing gem-like in the dim light cast by the kitchen.
“Move in with me. Come to Colorado. I have tons of space for you and the girls.”
After a moment’s silence, Lauren answered. “It wouldn’t be right, Ryan. We’d be too much of an imposition.”
“Hear me out. We have no family left here in Florida. We have each other. I’m battling depression, and living alone isn’t the best cure. You’re fighting to keep a roof over your heads, and barely making ends meet. I’ve time on my hands; two years, actually. You could move in and take time to find work or further your education. If you want, you can move out at some point. It would be a complete break for you.”
Lauren smiled, a familiar smile that reflected in her eyes, really quite pretty. “And you, a bachelor who’s lived alone for so long, would survive two girls invading your space? I don’t think so.”
“Hey! I like them. Besides, I think a bit of disruption and distraction is what’s called for. Come on. Say yes, Lauren.”
Early summer was dry and warm as I parked at the Denver International Airport. I was excited. Lauren had agreed and I knew it was the right decision. Returning alone to my sprawling ranch-style home had reinforced how much I needed company, people around, noise, life, distraction.
Striding across the arrivals lounge, I found a spot and waited. I’d done nothing to prepare for their arrival with the exception of stocking the kitchen. I was bound and determined to bring back Lauren’s health and was going to do it by making her cook. Well aware it used to be one of her passions, I thought it would distract her and force her to eat properly. However, the rest of the house, as befitting a bachelor, was sparsely furnished. For that, the girls would have to pick out their own bedroom furniture, something I thought they’d enjoy.
Money wasn’t an issue. For more than thirteen years I’d lived off an expense account, traveling constantly. The house and photography gear were my only extravagances, all other funds invested.
An arrivals board blinked electronics messages. American Airlines flight 2443 indicated passengers were now in the baggage pick-up area.
I felt good for the first time in a long, long time, and smiled broadly when Lauren emerged, pushing a baggage cart, Amanda and Sylvie pulling small suitcases behind them.
“Uncle Ryan!” Amanda yelled, grinning. Sylvie was smiling just as much.
Lauren, looking a bit frazzled, smiled at me. She rose up on tiptoes and kissed my cheek. “I can’t believe we’re here.”
“Yup! Land of no humidity.” Turning to Sylvie, I said, “Maybe your hair will behave now.”
Sylvie, laughing, tried to smooth her frizzy sandy-blonde hair down, unsuccessfully. “I hope so!”
At the car, packing was a bit of a challenge. My blue and white Toyota FJ Cruiser was built to handle weather extremes, not to act as a limo. Nevertheless, with suitcases jammed into the back and between the girls on the back seat, we left.
Both girls watched the passing city, full of commentary. Lauren just relaxed, smiling slightly as she listened to her daughters.
The sky was a perfect powder blue, azure just like Sylvie’s eyes. Hot, arid, summer air gradually gave way to cooler air as we wended our way high into the Arapahoe National Forest along highway 40.
“It’s beautiful,” Lauren observed, looking at steep valleys and soaring peaks, evergreens covering the land like a lush shag carpet.
“You’re not in Florida anymore,” I commented, earning a smile.
The long, sinuous journey finally brought us to Steamboat Springs, home, a neat and well-maintained city of twelve thousand that swelled massively in winter with the skiing crowd.
I loved it here. I loved mountains and clean air and crystal clear skies. The changing of seasons made me feel alive and was simply spectacular. I loved heavy snow, being snowed-in, warm and cozy inside with a roaring fire. In Steamboat Springs, I had found anonymity and peace that had eluded me since I was fifteen years old.
Turning into Huckleberry Lane, I followed the meandering road as it climbed, finally making a right into my driveway. A short trip through tall pines and aspens, and home appeared.
“It’s beautiful,” Lauren observed.
The sprawling, rustic house, shingle-sided, with a steep slate roof, sat in the center of an untended garden, weeds flourishing, the dense forest circling the property providing privacy.
Parking in front, the girls immediately tumbled out, excited and chatting. Lauren followed at a more sedate pace, inspecting everything.
“I gather you don’t like gardening,” she observed with a smile.
“Never here long enough,” I explained, unlocking the front door for them before returning to the Toyota to unpack.
I let them explore. There wasn’t a lot to look at. Furnishings were sparse. Four bedrooms spread out to what I generously called the west wing, two with en suite bathrooms, the remaining two smaller rooms sharing a third. The living room was the center of the house, a vast space with a soaring ceiling of pine and thick crossbeams, a huge stone fireplace on one side, an open kitchen on the other side - dining table separating the two areas, and large windows open to the unkempt garden. To the east were my study, laundry room, powder room, storage room, and a double garage.
I’d invested in a large flat panel television and satellite TV, an Internet connection, a modern, almost professional grade kitchen, and nothing else. Food and entertainment were my only needs on the rare occasions I was ever home.
Yells and laughter filtered out from the west wing as I popped open a bottle of Butcherknife Robs Blonde Pilsner.
An argument broke out, Amanda and Sylvie yelling, voices raised. Above the noise, my sister’s voice took charge.
“Quiet! Both of you!”
“But . . .” Sylvie started.
“Quiet! We’ll have none of that! Amanda, you get that bedroom. Sylvie, that one’s yours.”
“But Mommy . . .” Amanda complained.
“No but Mommy’s Amanda.”
Silence returned. I smiled. Lauren was just the same as she’d been as a kid. It pleased me to know, despite everything, she was still Lauren.
Eventually she joined me, noticed the suitcases piled inside the front door, smiled and said, “We’ve figured out room assignments.”
“I heard.” Pulling another beer from the fridge and opening it, I passed it across the center kitchen island to her.
Sitting on a stool, Lauren took the beer and sipped, her eyes taking in the dichotomy between the almost empty living room and the luxuriously appointed kitchen.
“I see you’ve got your priorities straight,” she commented, her eyes smiling. “I noticed the bedrooms lack some amenities . . . like beds.”
Grinning, I told her, “I thought the girls might have fun picking out their own bedroom sets.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Have you ever seen two girls shop? They have a hard enough time deciding what to wear!”
“So, tomorrow?” I suggested, as both girls raced out from the west wing and barreled through the wide glass and wood double doors sitting open to the garden.
Lauren sighed. “If we must. What are they sleeping in tonight?”
“I have a tent and sleeping bags. It’ll be an adventure,” I informed her. “In the meantime, what are you going to cook for dinner?”
Laughing, Lauren accused, “I knew you had an ulterior motive for inviting me to live here! What do you have to cook?”
Walking around the island to the living room side, smiling, I pointed back at the kitchen. “It’s all yours.”
The afternoon passed with huge excitement on the part of the girls, thrilled they were going to sleep outside in a tent, and insisted on helping me put it up. They were no help but their enthusiasm made me smile.
Dinner was a spectacular Mac & Cheese, rich and creamy, cheesy and slightly spicy, with a flavorful cheese crust broiled on top. Lauren had lost none of her culinary skills.
Bedtime was bedlam; girls racing around - in part thanks to sugar highs from fresh donuts and sodas, and a mother desperately trying to corral them. After settling in the tent, we had many visits from both Amanda and Sylvie whenever they heard scary noises from the forest, running inside to ask if it was safe, were there bears? Would the bears eat them?
Eventually Lauren was settled in my bedroom - the only bed in the house - and I was stretched out on the couch. In the silence of the night, depression returned, darkness welling up inside me. I couldn’t understand it or get rid of it, it was just there; an unwelcome nightly visitor. It manifested itself as deep sadness that shaded every thought. I felt useless and a failure. My life had no high points, no moments of joy, my days far too often passing with deep lethargy. And my future was simply dark and unproductive. Despite being highly regarded in the industry, I felt like a failure as a photographer. I knew I wasn’t, but depression convinced me I was. I tossed and turned and finally fell asleep at three in the morning.
Exhausted, I woke up at eight, the sun bright, sky clear; another beautiful day promised. After making coffee, the first chore of any day, I went to check on Lauren. Perhaps she’d like some.
Easing the master bedroom door open, I had to smile. Cuddled to her sides were Amanda and Sylvie. As quietly as possible, I closed the door and let them sleep.
Over the next month things settled. We went shopping for bedroom furniture and I understood Lauren’s comment about girls and shopping. My two nieces, when in a warehouse-sized furniture outlet, went from one bedroom set to another, each announcing it was perfect. Sylvie would claim it. Amanda would decide to have the same one, and an argument would break out. Gunnery Sergeant Lauren would step in and have a quiet word that brought immediate silence, only for another skirmish to erupt at the next bedroom set.
Eventually I found a solution. I drove them to Denver and took them to Ikea, and, taking Sylvie with me and leaving Amanda with her mother, we shopped separately. It worked. Both were excited at having new furniture.
Lauren overcame her reservations when I asked her to do the decorating honors, once I'd threatened to furnish the living room with chrome and black leather furniture, “And a big-ass Lazyboy!” She selected furniture slowly, thoughtfully.
Leaving me to supervise the girls, she’d take the Toyota and haunt antique stores, curio shops, and custom furniture makers, all local, and slowly she turned a house into a home full of beautiful, comfortable, hand-crafted furniture made of rich woods, and curious, frivolous bric-à-brac. I entertained both girls with walks in the forest, climbing and showing them some spectacular views, and tuckered them out in the process. Lauren was eternally grateful . . . and amazed.
I slowly grew to love my nieces, enjoying their company and effervescent enthusiasm of the smallest pleasures.
Lauren started showing signs of much-needed weight gain, no longer looking as gaunt as she had, and her personality re-emerged, bright with an easy smile, witty and relaxed. Her deep sapphirine eyes lost their shadow of worry and started talking again, sometimes laughing, sometimes gemstone stern, sometimes soft with love when she watched her daughters, and always beautiful, startling, and captivating; just as I remembered her as a kid. I was relieved by her recovery. Some mornings I’d knock on her door with a cup of coffee and inevitably find either Amanda or Sylvie or sometimes both cuddled in bed with her. They looked quite cute.
Every night, I fought depression, that unwelcome darkness that had a life of its own, independent and malicious. Visions of torn bodies and blood and pain, mothers wailing, and children dead, haunted me, bringing with them a sense of uselessness that morphed into a feeling of failure. My nights weren’t restful at all. And gradually I started getting up and sitting in the living room, sipping wine or beer and waiting for depression to pass.
It was one such night when Lauren, walking to the kitchen for a glass of water, discovered me. She poured her glass and came over, sitting next to me on the large, wide, and very comfortable couch, curling her legs up to the side.
“What’s wrong, Ryan,” she asked softly.
“Nothing. I couldn’t sleep.”
Her finger eased a bit of hair behind my ear. I needed a haircut but didn’t care.
“I know you. I know when something’s bothering you.”
I tried a smile. “It’s just me.”
“Would it help to talk about it?” she asked.
“No. I have to work my way through it.”
With easy comfort, she leaned against me, her head against my shoulder. The silence was comfortable. I liked having her live with me.
“Do you ever think about it?” she asked.
I nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about. “Do you?”
She nodded. “Mmmm-hmmm. What do you think would have happened in our lives if . . .”
“Don’t,” I interrupted. “Life is what it is, Lauren.”
“I know. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder.”
She stood, bent, and kissed my cheek. “Try to get some sleep. You look tired.”
In her pajamas, she drifted away, a colorless and ghostly specter in the dark. My mind slipped back. Way back. The summer of my fifteenth year.
Growing up in the Everglades meant heat and humidity and bugs and a hint of rotting vegetation in the breeze when it came in from the east or south.
Mom and Dad had met at the end of the hippy era and taken to it like ducks to water. Mom wore long patterned skirts and loose cotton tops, her amber hair long. It would look red in the sunlight, dark blonde at night. Dad, a slender man, was a man of moods, usually happy but occasionally dark. Maybe I inherited the tendency towards depression from him.
They both decided to live naturally, in tune with the land, subsistence farming a small plot around our house. Dad quickly discovered it was unsustainable and became a truck driver to supplement the family income. Mom enjoyed looking after chickens and tending her vegetable garden. She was a great cook, and apple and pear trees provided many inventive deserts. I can still remember turning the handle on a wooden ice cream churn packed with salt and ice, my arms getting tired, excitement of a sweet treat keeping me motivated.
Lauren and I grew up happy. We weren’t aware of how little we had so it never bothered us. We were clothed and well fed. We took the district school bus to and from school every day and I naturally looked out for my younger sister.
When she was harassed for being scrawny by older boys, I reacted, every time. It wasn’t about me winning a fight - I lost as many as I won, but about letting everyone know that if they bothered my sister, they’d get a fight; was it worth it? Lauren was ten years old.
Summers were a blend of frustration at being far from friends limiting my social life, and fun exploring the land around us. Lauren, being so much younger, wanted to tag along. Her other choice was helping Mom in the vegetable garden; something she enjoyed as much as a case of chicken pox.
Like any brother with a young sister, I didn’t want her with me. Lauren was incredibly determined and persistent. And, despite putting up a fast pace trying to leave her behind as a lesson, Lauren kept up with me, never flagging, never complaining, just chatting about anything that entered her mind or anything interesting she saw. I grew to truly enjoy having her with me. I liked her company and discovered I liked her bright, ever-positive personality, too.
We would spend hours outside. In the intense heat and humidity, we’d often go swimming in a small, not quite stagnant lake, the water warm but refreshing, trees with exposed roots and bushes surrounding the edges, and large cypress trees providing cool shade. Did we care that there might be alligators or snakes around? Nope. We were young and invincible.
It was one hot day that particular summer while we were out, Mom having packed us each a sandwich and can of pop so we could picnic, that Lauren and my relationship changed.
Perhaps it was inevitable. Hormones raged through me. I’d discovered Dad’s stash of old Playboy and Penthouse magazines, borrowing one or two to masturbate to. I would get erections at the oddest times; sometimes in the middle of dinner, or lying on my back watching the sky, or washing dishes. Even the radiant heat of the sun could cause them. There was no rhyme or reason for them. They just happened.
This particular day, as Lauren and I wandered through the foliage swatting bugs away from our face, Lauren following me as she usually did, she complained.
“It’s too hot, Ryan. Let’s go for a swim.”
“It’s too far,” I claimed.
“No it’s not.”
“It is. It’ll take us twenty minutes to get to the lake.”
Using her usual plea, Lauren begged, “Please?”
“We don’t have our swimming suits,” I reminded her.
“So what? We’ll skinny dip.”
Like an annoying mosquito, she bugged me constantly until I caved. Thus, forty-five minutes later we were at the lake.
Up to this point in my journey into adolescence, my definition of sexy was based on the magazines I’d borrowed from Dad’s stash. My erotic dreams were all of a type; large full breasts, narrow waists, the swell of sexy asses, and full pubic bushes firing the imagination of what was hidden beneath. One or two models had thin enough pubic hair I could see their clefts and clitorises. I wasn’t ignorant about sex. I knew the mechanics. I’d heard Mom and Dad at night. They were hippies after all; free love, enjoyment of sex. They’d never shied away from being honest and I’d caught glimpses of both Mom and Dad naked. I had a very clear definition of what made a female sexy.
Or so I thought.
Lauren, showing enthusiasm and no modesty, stripped and raced into the lake; a skinny little kid whooping with glee. I joined her. The water was cool and refreshing. Skinny dipping was a very different experience. Water caressed parts otherwise covered by swimsuits and, with the silky stimulation and sense of freedom, I wasn’t surprised when I got an erection. It just was.
Lauren, ever playful, splashed me. “Got’cha!” and raced away.
I gave chase, Lauren screaming with excitement, and caught her in the deeper water. My sister, laughing, her sharp blue eyes sparkling with pure joy, grabbed me to avoid going under.
It was a defining moment in my life, even if I didn’t recognize it at the time.
My erection brushed against her. She looked down, observed, “You’ve got a stiffie!” and giggled.
Embarrassed, I pushed her away and swam off, my face red.
Lauren swam after me. “C’mon, Ryan. Let me see it.”
“Mom says it’s natural for boys to get them. I just want to see one,” she insisted.
Following me out of the lake, Lauren asked again. “Please?”
Still embarrassed, I took a deep breath and turned.
It was another defining moment. With Lauren standing and staring at my erection, I actually looked at her naked body. She was the complete opposite of my erotic fantasies: a flat chest with small pink areolae and tiny nipples; short with no curves on her body, her amber hair damp and straggly; large, deep sapphire eyes that dominated her face.
Yet, at the juncture of her thighs, Lauren had a small, hairless pussy mounding out. Her little cleft was tightly closed, her labia rounded and plump. Her slit disappeared between her legs. For the first time I was seeing a real, honest-to-goodness pussy, hairless or not, and I found it very erotic, my cock bobbing.
Lauren laughed. “It moves!” She reached out.
“Don’t,” I snapped, brushing her hand away.
“Why not? Let me feel it.”
“No.” Turning, still wet, I pulled on underwear and shorts.
Lauren shrugged and turned to get dressed, exposing her little ass to me. I studied it. Small rounded buttocks swelled out yet were narrow, indentations in each cheek. She had no shape I associated with the women in magazines. Her butt crack was short. Then, bending to pull her cotton panties on, I caught a glimpse of her little pussy from behind.
Reaching into my shorts, I repositioned my erection, pressing it down, and pulled a T-shirt on.
Lauren appeared to forget the whole incident, chatting and following me as we headed home. That night, as I masturbated, for the first time the Playboy magazine didn’t do it for me. In my mind, I saw Lauren’s immature body. To me, she was much sexier. Maybe it was because I knew her and liked her personality. Maybe it was because she was the first real naked female I’d ever seen so clearly; not the glimpses I’d had of Mom. I don’t know. But, eyes closed, I pictured her body, stroking myself, pictured her cute ass and amazing hairless pussy, and came, semen spurting hard, cum landing on my stomach. Cock pulsing, I came to a very satisfying orgasm. Then shame flooded me, robbing me of pleasure. I loved my sister and it felt like I’d debased her somehow. I was ashamed that it was her I’d masturbated to. Post-orgasmic bliss eluded me.
The next day, Lauren couldn’t understand why I was being curt with her. She wasn’t happy at all, as if she’d lost her best friend. I felt even worse for taking my problem out on her, and finally, kicking my ass mentally, I tried to be nice. All was well in her world.
For the next three days, Lauren tried to convince me to go skinny dipping. I resisted, now even more embarrassed at having masturbated to images of her. But, when Lauren gets something in mind, she’s like an alligator, never letting go.
Even Mom had words with me: “Why won’t you take your sister swimming, Ryan? Don’t be so selfish!”
Properly chastised, we went for a swim, this time with swimsuits under our clothes. It didn’t matter to Lauren. With bright laughter, she stripped, and naked once again, raced into the lake.
From the water she yelled, “Don’t be a baby! Take your swim suit off!”
No one calls me a baby! Shucking my suit, I dove in. For perhaps half an hour we splashed and chased and had fun, Lauren’s wonderful, uninhibited laughter and giggles making me smile. And damn could she swim!
Tired and hungry, I followed her out, planning to eat lunch. But, watching her naked little ass move, each buttock undulating, and catching a glimpse of her hairless pussy from behind, I inevitably got an erection.
“You’ve got a stiffie!” Lauren exclaimed, grinning. “Can I touch it?”
“Kay,” she accepted, stretching out on her back, then rolling onto her side to fish into the paper bag for a peanut butter and jam sandwich.
We ate in silence for a while but her eyes kept drifting back to my erection.
Conversationally, she said, “I’ve got a hole down here,” her hand covering her pussy. “Mom said it’s my vagina and that’s where guys put their penis.” Taking a sip of root beer from the can, still studying my erection, she added, “I think Mom’s wrong. Your penis looks far too big to fit in.”
I laughed. “You’re just a kid. You have to be older, then it’ll fit.”
My sister, never shy, informed me, “I have a button here that feels really good when I play with it.”
“That’s masturbation,” I pointed out.
“I know that! Mom told me. How do you play with your penis?”
“I stroke it, or rub it on the bed,” I answered, not aware that I was no longer embarrassed.
“Semen comes out,” Lauren informed me. “That’s what fertilizes the eggs inside me. How much semen comes out?”
I shrugged. I’d never measured it. Besides, sometimes it was more than other times.
“I wanna see. Show me,” Lauren suggested.
A glint appeared in her blue eyes. She grinned at me. “We could do it together. I’ll show you how I do it and you show me how you do it. Wanna?”
Driven by horniness, I countered, “First you have to show me your pussy.” Never having seen one up close, I was curious.
“Okay. But you promise to show me after, right?”
Lauren rolled onto her back, brought her knees up, feet wide apart on the ground. I moved between her legs to look.
Her fingers pressed at soft labia and eased them apart, her clitoral hood and tip of her little clit exposed, small wing-like inner lips hovering over her pink insides. Below, inside her slit, her skin was smooth, almost glassy, glistening with moisture, and at the very bottom, a tiny dark hole.
“This is my button,” she informed me, rubbing her fingertip on it. “Down here is my vagina.” Her fingertip moved down and eased into her vagina to the first knuckle. “See? That’s where a penis goes.”
My erection surged and bobbed. “Show me how you masturbate,” I suggested.
“Kay. But together.”
On my knees between her feet, I gripped my shaft and stroked. Lauren’s finger started rubbing her small, pliable clit. For a few minutes, we masturbated together. Then she dipped her finger down, penetrated herself slightly, and drew a moist, glistening finger back to her clit, strumming the soft button. My cock swelled. I stroked it faster, watching her, fascinated and excited beyond belief. The first time I’d ever seen a girl masturbate!
Then her eyes narrowed, still staring at my cock. She started breathing harder, her little finger strumming. My erection pulsed, pleasure flowing through me. This was very exciting!
With a quiet grunt, Lauren came, a cute frown on her face, her legs closing, thighs shaking slightly, hips hunching up and down. When she relaxed and let her knees fall to the ground exposing her pussy, now reddened, her clit more prominent, I could see the very moist, tiny, red opening to her vagina at the base of her slit and wondered what it would feel like to actually put my penis inside. With a groan, I came, semen spurting out in a long rope and splashing down on her pussy and stomach. Stroking myself, I came again, white cum spurting onto her.
With pleasure cascading through me, my cock swelled and spurted, thick white semen hitting her hairless mons. My orgasm was strong and draining, incredibly exciting, and felt so damn good.
Eventually the pulses weakened and ended, my orgasm passing.
Lauren grinned. “You squirted all over me! You should have seen your face! It was really funny!”
Drained and without a trace of the usual shame, I grinned. “You should have seen yours! You got all frowny and everything!”
It was another defining moment. Suddenly, intimacy wasn’t embarrassing between us.
We swam and played and eventually headed home. What we’d done wasn’t talked about, but it was there between us, a secret, an exciting secret.
Two days of rain kept us at home. On the third day, Lauren suggested we go swimming again and I readily agreed.
Mom observed with a smile, “It’s nice to see you getting along with your sister.”
Little did she know!
At the small lake, we stripped and swam, playing chase and splashing, Lauren’s laughter filling the air. I really liked her. She could make me smile even when I was down.
By the time we’d exhausted ourselves and cooled off from the sweltering heat, lying under the shade of a large cypress tree, we ate lunch. I didn’t care that I had an erection. It felt good being naked with my sister. Sort of illicit and forbidden and exciting.
Lauren, finishing her sandwich, asked, “Wanna do it again?”
I had something else in mind. I’d never felt a pussy and wanted to. It looked so soft, a ripe little peach. “Can I touch you?” I asked.
“Kay. But you have to let me touch you, too,” Lauren said, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Okay. Me first.”
“Kay.” she rolled onto her back, drew her knees up, feet on the ground, and parted them.
Moving down, I studied her pussy again. It was so sexy. Even with knees parted, her little slit stayed tightly closed. Small buttocks swelled where they pressed to the ground. Reaching out, I touched her, softly, hesitantly, not sure what to expect.
Her pussy was very small, her mound soft, padded. Deep creases at the sides narrowed and plunged between her thighs, her vulva mounded and exciting. With care, I pressed my hand against her, loving how supple her mons was, and traced my fingertip down her slit. My cock swelled, rising up at a steep angle.
Now horny as heck, I pried her lush, hairless lips apart, her long clitoral hood emerging, the tip rising, small, and below the wings of her inner lips, the glassy, moist interior of her small slit. At the base, I could see the tiny, dark entrance to her vagina nestled in deep pink.
Using the pad of my thumb, I rubbed her clit.
Lauren reached down. “Like this,” she instructed, guiding my thumb. For the next few minutes I masturbated my sister. She started breathing deeper, her eyes watching my erection bob. Clear precum leaked and ran down the shaft.
Then she closed her eyes, inhaled, and let out a cute, almost silent grunt, her legs closing, body trembling lightly, hips twitching; falling into her climax.
Under my thumb I felt her get wetter, slippery, and my cock ached with a need to be touched.
When Lauren calmed and opened her eyes, she smiled. “That was the best yet!” Looking at my erection, she announced, “My turn!”
Sitting up, she reached out and held my shaft, her hand so small. Having seen how I masturbated, she imitated me, stroking my erection, precum making her hand glide up and down. She added her other hand. Already horny as heck, watching her stroke me with both hands, it didn’t take long.
With a grunt of my own, pressure suddenly released. My erection swelled, semen raced up the shaft and exploded, launching out to hit her chest. My sister giggled and stroked and I came hard, spurting, cumming, pleasure flooding me.
Eventually my orgasm passed. I softened in her cum-covered hand, breathing hard. Lauren rubbed the cum between her fingers. I wondered what was going through her mind.
“Let’s swim!” she exclaimed, jumping up.
We’d passed another stage in our exploration - touching each other. It was the final hurdle. For the next few days, I brought her off and she stroked me to great orgasms. Together we discovered how much fun it was to masturbate each other in the water, Lauren fascinated at how white semen floated when I’d cum.
It was swimming in the lake that changed things again; another defining moment.
On one of our outings, splashing and chasing, her bright laughter making me smile, and the flash of her bare bum making me horny, I caught her. Lauren twisted to face me and we stopped. Her laughter died away.
Lauren’s naked body was pressed to mine, my erection sandwiched between us. Staring at me, Lauren kissed me - a quick press of her lips. I didn’t understand at that time why a simple kiss felt more intimate than anything we’d done to that point. But it did.
Liking the sensation, I kissed her back, this time lips lingering. Lauren sighed. She pressed her pussy against my erection and my hands naturally dropped to hold her wonderful small ass. She began humping me, rubbing herself against my cock and I pulled her tighter to me. When I tasted her lips, she broke the kiss in surprise, sapphirine eyes wide.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“I kissed you.”
“But you used your tongue!”
Grinning, I informed her, “That’s how boyfriends and girlfriends kiss.”
Her beautiful blue eyes grew bigger. “I’m your girlfriend?” she asked.
Being cool, I answered, “Sure. Why not?”
Smiling broadly, she said, “Kay! Kiss me again!”
Lauren learned fast. Too soon our tongues were playing, mouths pressed together, then backing off, a teasing lick, and then back into a passionate kiss. All this time Lauren was rubbing my erection with her pussy.
Gripping her small bottom, I encouraged and helped her, my cock getting harder and harder. Sun heated our faces. Water cooled our bodies. Then Lauren ended the kiss and rested her cheek on my shoulder, her arms around my neck. She humped my cock and whispered, “It’s happening, Ryan,” and shuddered, climaxing in my arms.
Too excited by far by a real, naked female body against me, I followed, erection swelling, her pussy rubbing, and a wave of bliss hit as semen erupted between us. Holding my ten-year-old sister, I came beautifully, cock swelling, sweet release, semen spurting. I loved it. I loved holding her body. I loved cumming with my sister, and loved her quiet grunts of joy, her small body shaking lightly.
It was the strongest orgasm I’d experienced.
This time was different, very different. When we climbed out of the water and I settled on my back in the hot shade, Lauren lay next to me, our sides touching. No words were spoken, but everything had changed.
Our sexual exploration continued for the following week. Whenever we could get away, with chores finished, we’d go swimming. Sometimes Lauren would fondle and stroke me to an orgasm and I’d do the same to her. Sometimes we’d rub against each other to bring ourselves off - a personal favorite - and kissing became a major part of our illicit intimacy. Kissing happened not only at the lake, but at home when our parents were occupied, both of us excited at doing something forbidden behind Mom and Dad’s backs.
Then rain interfered. On a Saturday, with rain falling in a constant, annoying roar, Mom and Dad headed out to shop for basic supplies; toilet paper, soap, shampoo, and other stuff you can’t grow in a garden. Both Lauren and I decided not to go. It wasn’t a coordinated plan on our part, just not wanting to follow our parents around from store to store.
Alone, Lauren wandered into my bedroom and said, “I’m bored.”
“Want to play cards?” I asked.
With a big, easy grin, her blue eyes twinkling, she said, “Nope. Let’s kiss.”
Sitting on the edge of my bed, Lauren moved between my legs, her arms wrapping around my neck, my arms hugging her small body. She smiled. We kissed. Once again I felt the power of kissing someone you love, my penis stirring inside my shorts.
Tongues played with familiarity. Lips teased, brushed, and pressed with passion and, reacting to my aroused state, I eased my hand inside my sister’s shorts to fondle her panties and cup her beautiful little ass.
Moans broke the silence. Now horny, I suggested, “Let’s take our clothes off.”
For the first time, my sister and I were naked on a bed and it felt much better. Lauren rolled on top of me. I groped her bare buttocks. We kissed and moved against each other, my erection growing stronger and stronger, precum making the tip slip against her skin.
When the kisses ended, Lauren raised her head and, looking into my eyes, asked, “Would you like to try to put it into my vagina?”
I did want to? Horny as hell, I really wanted to try sex and lose my virginity! It seemed to me, Lauren was the one person I could relax with and enjoy myself, not worry I might do something wrong, or cum too fast, or embarrass myself in some way.
“If you really want to,” I replied, being cool.
She nodded. “I’d like to try. How do we do it?”
I was inexperienced, a bit clueless, my education being Playboy and Penthouse and crude descriptions from equally inexperienced boys at school.
Only one thought came to mind. “Lie on your back.”
With Lauren on her back, leg parted, I shuffled up between them, leaned over supporting my body on one straight arm, and gripped my shaft.
Both of us were staring down.
The tip of my cock kissed her hairless cleft, leaving it glistening with precum. To me, it looked like an impossible task. I was just too big, my sister’s pussy so small. Still, excited and horny, I pressed my erection against her slit. At first, the lips bulged, refusing to spread. With up and down swipes, her lips slowly parted, the tip of my cock easing between to rub her clit. Jesus it excited me! Somehow, without her having pubic hair, being able to see everything was fantastic!
I watched my crown press. Her labia bulge around me, stretched, her small clit pressed down against my head. My erection throbbed, thick and stiff. Pushing, I made no progress.
“It won't fit,” I told her with regret.
“You’re not at the hole,” she informed me. “Go lower.”
Feeling stupid, I eased my crown down until it caught at the bottom of her cleft, cock pulsing in my hand.
“There?” I asked.
Pressing, I felt a slight give, her sexy labia almost covering the inflamed head of my cock. I pressed again, harder. Lauren inhaled sharply.
Easing back, I looked up from her pussy. “Did I hurt you?”
“A bit, but not too much. Try again.”
I did. Sensations bombarded me. At first, it felt like I was trying to penetrate a tight, tiny ring. With each pulse of my penis, each press forward, it seemed as if Lauren became more slippery, each push slightly deeper.
The sight was out of this world; a thick erection pressing into my sister’s hairless little pussy, undoubtedly the most erotic sight of my life. And, at the moment Lauren gasped in pain, I penetrated her tight vagina, slipping in, the crown disappearing, gripped by a vise.
I stopped, my erection throbbing and pulsing dangerously, my heart racing. Looking at Lauren, I saw pain. Damn!
“Should I pull out?” I asked.
“Not yet. Wait. That hurt, Ryan!”
“I’m sorry. It’s my first time, too.”
Lauren eventually smiled. “Okay. Try some more.”
Now cautious of hurting my sister, I edged my erection back and forth in a fucking motion, her pussy gripping me so tightly it refused to let me go. But slowly, with each movement, more and more of my erection oozed into her until half of it was gripped by her vagina.
I’d never felt anything so wonderful. I loved how tight her pussy gripped me and loved how warm she felt. Looking down, still propping my body up, the sight of my erection penetrating her was thrilling, her hairless labia stretched around my shaft. I’d never seen anything more erotic.
Relaxing, I gently lowered my body onto hers. Lauren was really small, slender as a reed, and very exciting. She smiled at me, her sapphirine eyes as bright as gems.
“See, it did go in,” she said. “What now?”
Smiling, I answered, “Now we have sex,” and confirmed it by withdrawing slightly from her pussy, then pressing back in.
“This feels weird,” she announced. “Nice but weird.” Smiling, she wrapped her arms around me.
I started fucking her with slow, careful thrusts, gentle withdrawals, beautiful thrusts. Each time I penetrated her I went deeper, my erection gripped by her velvet pussy. Slowly she became slippery and thrusts were easier and, finally, the tip of my erection could go no further. Almost two thirds of my straining cock was buried in her small pussy, a pulsing warmth sheath holding me snugly.
I was actually fucking my sister and it was just out of this world! I was fucking a real girl!
Pausing, my erection throbbing, and excited beyond belief, Lauren explored the sensation of being stuffed with soft clenches. She smiled and I kissed her.
Unable to stop myself, as we kissed, I started fucking her with slow strokes, loving how her pussy gripped me to stop me withdrawing and caressed me like hot velvet when I thrust into her. Holding her shoulders, I fucked her; thrusting in, cock aching, pulling back, and stroking in again, such intense pleasure flooding my body. Nothing had prepared me for how fantastic sex was. Nothing anyone had said came close to the pure pleasure of fucking. Lost in the incredible sensations, too turned on by far with finally having sex with a girl, I didn’t last, my orgasm slamming into me uncontrollably.
With a gasp of pleasure, my cock swelled massively, Lauren’s pussy a tight vise. Semen pulsed up my shaft and, in a dizzying explosion, I came inside her, hot, thick cum spurting. Unable to control my body, I withdrew and fucked into her, exploding again, a wave of bliss swamping me, semen spurting hard. My orgasm took over. Thrusting, fucking her, I came with stomach cramping intensity, toes curling, each hard pulse of cum exquisite. I thrust and came, flooding her little pussy with what felt like massive spurts, my body aching. I came harder than ever before, cock aching, swelling, spurting, glorious ecstasy washing through me, and passed the peak with a loud gasp, suddenly tumbling down, pulses weakening until I had nothing left, my cock softening, utterly drained.
When I calmed, raising my head, Lauren was watching me. She smiled softly. “I felt you squirting in me.”
I grinned. “No kidding! I’ve never cum so hard. Did you cum?”
She shook her head. “No. But it was nice. It didn’t hurt too much.”
I felt like a shit. I should have made sure she enjoyed it, too. But I didn’t know how and, being my first time, I hadn't been able to control myself.
Pulling out of her, I settled next to her on the bed. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I couldn’t stop myself.”
Lauren smiled. “S’okay. I liked it. If you want, we can try it again.”
Laughing, I answered, “Not for a while. It’ll take me time to recover.”
For half an hour we talked. I tried to explain how amazing it was to cum during sex, how different it was, how intense - like nothing else in the world. Lauren decided she wanted to experience it, too, so we agreed to try again as soon as possible.
It wasn’t until Tuesday that we had the chance. Saturday, after sex, I discovered blood and semen stains on my bed and had to change the sheet, hiding the dirty one where Mom would never find it.
Sunday was raining and we were cooped up in the house. It didn’t stop us from kissing every moment we could. Lauren reluctantly told me she was sore, too.
Clouds hovered on Monday. It was dry but so oppressively humid I hardly wanted to move. The air was still, no welcome breeze.
Tuesday, sunshine returned to southern Florida. A breeze stirred. With great enthusiasm, I did my chores and, by eleven, Lauren and I were off to the lake. Lauren skipped next to me, holding my hand. She was full of those bright smiles that I loved so much, her beautiful eyes sparkling with excitement. I had an erection the whole way there, excited at the prospect of having sex with her again.
We wasted no time stripping by the lake under the large cypress tree. But, with the memory of how selfish I’d been last time, I was determined to make it good for my sister. I had a plan. I’d heard about oral sex.
Naked, we kissed and fondled each other. I loved her hairless pussy. It was so small and sexy, supple and warm, her slit exciting. I loved how her lips hugged my finger when I stroked her and, finding moisture deep at the base made my cock surge. Her stroking it helped, too.
“Lie back,” I said, breaking the kiss.
She did, asking, “What are you doing?” as I settled between her legs.
Smiling, I said, “Making you feel good,” and kissed her pussy. Against my lips Lauren’s pussy was silky soft. I caught a hint of earthiness and sweetness. I licked her slit, bottom to top, and kissed her smooth mons. Lauren smiled.
Returning to the base, I probed with my tongue, worming it between her lips, pressing in to touch the glassy inside and taste her. She tasted wonderful; light and almost sweet with an overtone of something very arousing, a taste that went straight to my brain. Drawing my tongue up through her slit, I touched her clit and rubbed.
Lauren groaned and lay back. “That feels good, Ryan.”
Sucking her clit, Lauren groaned again. With confirmation I was doing it right, I went to town, switching between sucking and rubbing her clit. At the same time, my index finger probed into her, finding the tiny entrance to her vagina, pressing in to the first knuckle, her pussy gripping me. Lauren gasped and started humping my face, rubbing her pussy hard against my mouth. I sucked and rubbed, her pussy becoming wetter. With a quiet gasp, “It’s happening!” Lauren came, her body shaking, thighs closing against my head, panting, eyes closed.
When she slowed and stopped, I moved up, my erection hard and aching. Reaching down, I guided the tip up and down her cleft, pressing in, finding the entrance to her vagina at the base. Pausing, I waited.
Lauren opened her eyes and smiled. “That was incredible,” she announced. “The best one yet!”
Grinning with pleasure and pride, I thrust. Lauren gasped. My crown penetrated her very slippery pussy, her vagina so incredibly tight.
Lauren giggled! With a grin, she curled her pussy up at me and I sank into her, once more buried in her as far as she could take me; two thirds, no more. “That’s better,” she announced. “It didn’t hurt at all this time.”
Smiling, I kissed her, withdrew and stroked into her small body again, my erection straining. This time, I didn’t feel the loss of control. This time, I enjoyed every stroke, the feel of penetrating my sister’s pussy, fucking her slowly, sex with her so incredible.
We moved together, kissing, tongues toying, lips brushing. I fucked her with long strokes, the tip almost emerging, plunging in, loving her tightness, and how small she was underneath me. My erection ached and felt like steel, yet I didn’t rush; sex with her was too good. It felt like forever, but it wasn’t. Too soon, as pleasure built inside me, as my cock became ever harder and aching, I laid down on her fully. Lauren wrapped her arms around my chest, curling her pussy up at each of my strokes, my erection completely filling her, the tip bumping against her end. Despite being tight, she was slippery, a velvet glove massaging me.
Then Lauren grunted quietly. Her pussy clamped down on my erection almost painfully. She gasped, “Ryan!” and climaxed. I followed, gasping, “God, Lauren!” and came, a massive pulse of pleasure slamming into me, erection swelling, exploding, semen erupting. Grunting with pleasure, I stroked into my sister, spurting, cumming, sweet ecstasy filling me. I loved each exquisite pulse, each spurt into her little pussy. I drowned in her climax, spurting hard, pleasure wracking my body until my orgasm passed leaving me drained and satisfied, empty and lethargic.
Lauren proclaimed, “That was amazing! I came twice!”
Sitting in the dark living room, with the half moon casting a pale blue light through the windows, an owl’s lonely hoot reached me. I replayed my memories. Sipping wine, I cast my mind back to Mom catching Lauren in my bed one afternoon when she and Dad returned from shopping unexpectedly early. I remembered the anger in my father’s face. Hippy and free love did not encompass incest and underage sex.
The beating he’d giving me was severe. I still had scars on my back from his belt buckle. I still remembered in sharp detail Lauren crying, and later that night, collecting my clothes and the small amount of money I’d saved before sneaking away.
I’d never returned. At fifteen, I was on my own. I never saw Lauren, never talked to her or corresponded with her. It wasn’t until she was getting married to Peter that I saw her again. Standing unobtrusively at the back of the church where I wouldn’t be noticed, I watched my eighteen-year-old sister get married. She was beautiful, a slender swan, her amber hair a stunning blend of dark blonde and red, long and wavy. She was beautiful in her white wedding gown, a slim-hipped girl with a sensual small bust, petite yet elegant. I’d felt a pang of envy and angst watching her marry another man.
I'd seen her again at twenty-two and heavily pregnant with Sylvie. It was at our parent’s funeral. Lauren had noticed me, her beautiful sapphirine eyes widening at the shock of seeing me after so long, then tears welled and fell, big drops running down her cheeks.
We talked and consoled. We thanked the few people that showed up for the funeral. And we caught up. Not once did we broach the subject that had been such a defining moment for both of us. Not once did we mention it.
I’d visited a few times at first; after Sylvie was born - a curly haired sandy-blonde, and again to meet Amanda - a redhead with soft, pale honey eyes and a beautiful smile. But then we drifted apart. I hated her husband with a passion, hated how he treated her so dismissively, bordering on verbal abuse, and how he was so self-centered and full of shit. I hated being around him.
Now, seven years on, Lauren was back in my life and I didn’t want to talk about us, too scared it would pull us apart. Was that part of what was causing my depression?
Sighing, I drained the wine glass and headed to bed.
LAUREN ROSE EARLY AND went to the kitchen, leaving both Sylvie and Amanda in her bed. They’d both crawled in late last night claiming the roar of a mountain cat scared them, and had slept with her, cuddling close.
Making coffee, she thought back to last night; finding Ryan sitting silently in the dark, a glass of wine in his hand. She’d noticed the bottle on the coffee table, almost empty.
As the coffee brewed, she absentmindedly put last night’s dinner dishes away. She wondered if Ryan understood what he’d done for her and Sylvie and Amanda. He’d saved them. She saw it in her daughters’ behavior. They’d slowly become subdued as she struggled to put food on the table. The loss of a father in their lives had hurt deeply, both suffering from worry that they’d done something to chase their father away. Nothing she had said - reassuring them that it was their father who chose to leave - had helped.
In the last few weeks, being here with Ryan, the girls had come alive, bright and sparkling, full of energy and enthusiasm. Even their bickering had become playful, all because of her brother.
Yet, Lauren was worried. Ryan was drinking almost every night. She might not see him drinking, but she saw the empty bottles of wine and beer and worried he’d progress to hard alcohol at some point. She could see it in his kind, light brown eyes, a shadow in them even when he smiled. He was still too gaunt, too stressed.
Last night, she’d girded herself and broached the subject they’d never discussed just to be brushed aside. Ryan might not want to talk about it, but she needed to if they were ever to find peace. Maybe tonight she’d try again.
Running feet distracted her. Smiling, she watched Amanda race into the living room and jump onto a stool at the kitchen island counter. Sylvie followed at a more sedate pace, desperately trying to tame her wild mane of sandy-blonde curls - unsuccessfully, and frowning at wayward strands that escaped and fell into her face.
“I’m hungry,” Amanda announced.
Sylvie, climbing onto a stool agreed. “Me too,” she grumped. Sylvie was always grumpy when hungry.
“What can I get you?” Lauren asked, pouring herself a mug of coffee, adding real cream and a spoonful of sugar. She sipped and sighed. Powdered coffee whitener never tasted as good as real cream.
“Can I have Apple Cinnamon Cheerios?” Amanda asked.
“I want real Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes,” Sylvie decided. “Not those fake ones.”
“Good idea! I’ll have Frosted Flakes, too!”
Sylvie rolled her eyes. Lauren laughed. Amanda looked up to her sister, but Sylvie was at the age where she was striving for individuality. At least it didn’t devolve into yelling.
With the girls eating, she poured them some orange juice, leaned her hip against the counter, and sipped coffee.
Ryan stumbled to the kitchen, sleep-mussed sandy hair, stubbled cheeks, yawning, and wearing his red and blue tartan boxers, nothing else.
For a moment she admired him. He’d matured into a handsome man of thirty-seven, slender as a runner, his chest lightly dusted with soft-looking sandy hair that spread from nipple to nipple and down in a line, past his navel and, thinning, disappearing into the waist of his boxers. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.
He also looked exhausted.
Lauren smiled. “Morning. You look awful.”
Amanda and Sylvie turned from the kitchen island to look back at him. Sylvie commented, “Your hair’s sticking up!”
Amanda, grinning, observed, “You’re almost naked!”
He glanced down at his boxers. “I’m not naked. These are shorts.”
“No they’re not. They’re underwear!” Amanda insisted, Sylvie actually laughing.
“Here,” Lauren said, passing him a mug of black coffee. “You look like you could use it.”
He nodded and sat next to Sylvie. “So what are the plans for today?” he asked.
“Gardening. Some hard labor will do you good,” Lauren informed him. “It’ll help you sleep at night.”
“No it won't. It’ll make me hurt. Let’s hire a gardener.” Grinning, he ruffled Sylvie’s crazy curls. She frowned and pushed his hand away.
With a smile, Lauren informed her brother he was the hired labor. His job? To dig out all the weeds and turn soil. “And the girls will help,” she added.
The three of them groaned together.
By mid afternoon, they were sweating and complaining. Lauren kept a firm hand on them, allowing set breaks, and making sure they didn’t disappear under the guise that they had to pee. She hydrated them with plenty of water to counteract the dry heat, and by late afternoon they’d actually made a dent in the garden, uncovering a beautiful rock garden that the previous owners must have built with love. She worked too, sweating alongside them. The difference was, she’d grown to love gardening as much as cooking. In her mind, she’d already planned out an herb garden, and a small vegetable patch over there where it would get the most sunlight.
Feeling wonderful from the hard work, she showered, appreciating having her own en suite bathroom - a real luxury. Dressed, she went to prepare dinner.
Ryan was either still showering or had fallen asleep on his bed. She’d find out soon enough. The girls, after calling dibs on the bathroom, arguing briefly and turning to her to plead their cases, were occupied.
Ryan had done a wonderful job on the kitchen. It was full of professional grade appliances, smart cupboards that used space efficiently, and stocked like she hadn’t seen in a long time. She’d almost fondled the extra virgin olive oil from Tunisia, laughing at herself. There wasn’t a generic product anywhere.
Once again, her mind turned to her brother. She really needed to talk to him. He needed to know how grateful she and the girls were and how happy they now were. Tonight, she resolved. Definitely tonight.
Dinner was delectable. A real rib roast of beef, oven roasted potatoes, and crisp green beans. Ryan opened a lovely red wine. Through dinner, her daughters complained about being sore, competing with each other in just how sore they were.
Amanda announced her arms couldn’t move, despite her eating voraciously. Sylvie complained her back ached. And then Ryan threw in his two cents worth.
“You’ve got nothing on me,” he claimed. “My left eyebrow hurts from squinting all day. I can't feel my toes, and the hair in my left armpit is drooping from exhaustion!”
Both girls erupted in laughter. The claims became increasingly inane, all having fun. Lauren smiled, pleased just to watch them interact.
On the upside, at ten o’clock, neither girl complained when ordered to bed, each giving her a kiss and, she noticed, giving her brother a kiss good night without her prompting them.
Finally alone, sitting on the couch, her legs curled under her and facing Ryan, a glass of sumptuous red wine in her hand, she tried again.
“You’ve made such a difference to Sylvie and Amanda. I hope you know it.”
“They’re great girls.”
“They’ve changed since coming here. They’re back to their old selves. I hope you understand just how grateful I am,” Lauren said.
“I know. It’s nothing, Lauren. Really. I’m happy to help.”
“It’s more than I could have imagined. I’d like for us to stay here, but . . .” She hesitated.
A trace of worry stole into Ryan’s eyes. “But what?”
“I need to talk about it. It’s there between us. If we don't talk about it, it’ll get in the way and ruin things.”
Ryan studied her, worried. “I really don’t want to talk about it, Lauren. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have. I don’t think I could take it.”
Surprised, Lauren asked, “Hurt me? How?”
Ryan sipped his wine, his eyes off looking into space. “I took advantage of you. I ran away. And then I left you to take the brunt of Mom and Dad’s anger.”
“Is that what you think?” Lauren asked. When Ryan didn’t answer, she clarified, “Mom and Dad never blamed me. They blamed you. They never took it out on me.”
“Thank God for that.”
“Ryan? Look at me please.” When he turned and looked at her, Lauren informed him, “You never took advantage of me. I cried for weeks after you left. Every night I tried to stay awake, hoping you’d come back for me. As the years passed, I knew why you couldn’t. It must have been hard on you.”
Ryan nodded, looking down at his glass. “At least you found love. You have two beautiful girls.”
Lauren sipped her wine and nodded. “You’re partially right. I have two beautiful daughters, but I never found love. Peter was my escape from home, nothing more.”
“I saw you,” Ryan said.
“Saw me where?”
“I saw you in church getting married.”
“You were there?” Lauren asked, astonished at the news.
He nodded. “At the back.” Looking at her, he smiled softly, “You were such a beautiful bride.”
“Why didn’t you let me know?”
“I couldn’t face Dad.”
For a few minutes there was silence. Then Ryan broke it. “You changed me, Lauren.” He smiled softly at her.
With a short laugh, he said, “You defined what was sexy for me. It’s affected my whole life.”
“How?” Lauren asked.
“Every woman I met was measured against you and fell short. I found myself seeking out slender, petite women that looked like you did in the church on your wedding day. I never found one. I’ve never found love, either.”
He looked at her, his warm brown eyes almost sad. “You see, I didn’t know it at the time, but I fell in love with you that summer and I’ve never gotten over you.” He added, “Don’t leave because of me. I want you and the girls here. It was a long, long time ago. We’re grown adults now.”
Tears welled in Lauren’s eyes, a lump forming in her throat. “You’re such an idiot, Ryan. I’ve never stopped loving you. You were it. My one true love.”
Surprise entered his eyes. “Really?”
Leaning forward and setting her wine glass down, she moved over next to her brother. His arm wrapped around her shoulder and she leaned against him. Looking up, she studied his eyes, kind and gentle, so familiar and missed. She didn't resist when he bent and kissed her, his lips warm. Peace settled over her. She was finally home, exactly where she wanted to be.
With a murmur of pleasure, she kissed him back, lips moving in a gentle, loving kiss, and sighed when it ended.
“I’ve dreamed about kissing you since I was ten years old,” she said quietly. “I’ve lived with those memories for a long time. It’s nice to know you haven’t lost your touch.”
His body shook with a silent chuckle. “I missed your kisses like the dessert misses the rain.”
“My-oh-my! You're so poetic!” Leaning forward, she took her glass of wine and sipped, now relaxed. “I have a confession,” she said. “Peter wasn’t a champion lover. Vanilla ice cream is exotic compared to his expertise in bed.”
Lauren continued, feeling more than a bit nervous. “I found out I’m bisexual.”
“Really?” her brother exclaimed. “I guess, if your husband isn’t doing it, it’s understandable. Would it upset you to know I find the concept of you with another woman exciting?”
Lauren laughed. “No. It doesn’t. But, I’d like to go to bed with you. I’ve waited a long time - too long - to be with someone I love. There’s a problem.”
“Amanda or Sylvie frequently sneaks into bed at night to sleep with me. If I’m not there, they’ll worry.”
“They’re sound asleep and exhausted. Maybe they’ll sleep through the night,” Ryan suggested.
Girding herself, Lauren clarified. “I need to tell you something. It wasn’t another woman I discovered my bisexuality with. It was with Sylvie.”
“You’re kidding! Isn’t Sylvie too young? She’s only ten.”
Lauren smiled. “I was ten, if you remember.”
“But that was different!”
“How?” she asked, looking up at him.
Her brother paused, eyes lost in thought. He shrugged. “You’re right. It’s just Sylvie seems so much younger.”
“She’s not. You’re older.”
“Does it bother you?” Lauren asked.
Ryan looked at her. “Is Sylvie happy?”
Lauren nodded. “You’ve seen her. She’d perfectly well adjusted. So’s Amanda.”
Her brother’s eyes opened wide. “You mean . . .”
Lauren nodded. “She was inquisitive after discovering Sylvie naked in my bed.”
A sudden grin emerged, his eyes twinkling. “Would it be bad if I found that just as exciting? What do you do with them? How often do you . . . Could I watch sometime?”
Lauren laughed, relieved by his response. “Maybe.” She noticed again the fatigue in his face despite his smile; stress from sleepless nights and fighting demons from his job. He needed a good night’s rest. She rubbed his thigh. “I used to dream of us sleeping in bed together. We never had that experience. Let’s go.”
Grabbing his hand, she stood, placing her unfinished wine on the coffee table, and tugged him up. “I want to cuddle and be held, Ryan.”
He smiled and stood, letting her lead him to her bedroom.
“Get in bed. I’ll just be a minute,” Lauren said softly, rising on tiptoes to kiss his cheek before heading to the bathroom.
When she emerged, when she saw her brother in bed, a flush of pleasure washed through her. She had dreamed of this, of having the company of the man she loved in her bed, something she’d never experienced with Peter. With him, it had been a chore, never completely relaxed. Smiling to herself, she slipped under the covers and moved to Ryan’s side.
His arm eased around her. She rolled into his side and inhaled his scent deeply; woodsy, earthy, and clean with an under note of guy, pure, gorgeous male.
Turning her head, she smiled at him. His warm, gentle eyes crinkled. He kissed her, a soft brush of his lips, lingering, slight pressure expressing love, familiar from so long ago.
“This feels really good,” he said with a sigh.
“This feels right,” Lauren added.
Not ten minutes later, she heard his soft breath. Ryan had passed out. She was sure the hard labor in the garden was partially responsible, but also suspected that being close, being together again, without the shadow between them, was the real reason he’d finally relaxed.
MORNING SUN WOKE ME. I felt strange, momentarily disoriented. Then I understood. I was in my sister’s bed. Sun slanting through the large windows told me it I’d slept in for once. I’d slept peacefully and fully without tossing and turning, and without restless dreams! Renewed energy flowed through me.
Stretching, I smiled when I heard the noise of boisterous girls filter through the closed bedroom door, and Lauren’s firm tone rising above restoring quiet. A pot banged.
Before moving, I rolled and inhaled the aroma of my sister, her scent lingering on her pillow; a subtle blend of peaches and blossoms. Simply wonderful.
I could picture her clearly. I saw her as a bride, so achingly beautiful, and now, a mature mother of thirty-two, still five-foot three, slender, with sensual curves in all the right places; hardly changed. I loved her deep sapphirine eyes, so intense and full of understanding, love, and kindness, yet capable of gemstone hardness when angered. Her shoulder-length hair suited her giving her an air of dignity. Her fine-boned face added to her elegance, narrow nose, full lips, and a smile that elevated spirits.
God I’d missed her.
Energetic and upbeat, I rolled out of bed, grabbed my clothes and headed to my room. Shaved and showered, I entered the living room.
Amanda and Sylvie, sitting at their usual place on stools at the kitchen island, went silent when they noticed me, turned away, and giggled. Lauren smiled.
“Have some coffee,” she said, placing a steaming mug on the counter. The aroma of rich, full-bodied coffee wafted at me. “You look rested,” she observed.
The girls giggled again, looking at me out of the corner of their eyes, empty bowls of cereal in front of them.
As usual, Amanda spoke first. “You slept in Mommy’s bed!”
“Amanda!” Lauren said sharply. “What did I tell you?”
Not chastised in the least, Amanda shrugged. “Sorry.” She grinned at me, her pale honey eyes twinkling.
Ten-year-old Sylvie, pushing at her wild sandy-blonde hair, grinned. “You look soooo relaxed Uncle Ryan! How come?” Then she giggled.
Lauren sighed in frustration. “They saw you sleeping in my bed.”
“Ya think?” I replied.
Blue eyes twinkling, Lauren said, “The girls and I have had a long talk.” She smiled brightly. “They think it’s great.”
“What’s great?” I asked, studying my nieces, caffeine still not in my veins. They both grinned impishly at me.
Laughing and shaking her head, Lauren answered, “That you’re going to do more gardening today!” Then, smiling softly, she walked around the kitchen island and kissed me on my cheek. “Us, you nitwit.”
Astonished, I asked, “You told them?”
“Everything?” Why was I shocked?
“Everything!” Sylvie exclaimed, her sister nodding furiously. “And I get Mom’s bedroom!” she added excitedly.
“No you don’t!” Amanda immediately countered, frowning. “I do! I’m the youngest!”
“Girls!” Lauren said sharply.
“But Mommy . . .” Amanda tried, her plea cut off by a firm stare.
Both fell silent.
I grinned. Couldn’t help it. They were very cute.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Lauren asked. “You have another hard day of labor ahead. We need to reposition some of those rocks. It’s lucky you had a good night’s rest.”
“I can’t. I strained an eyebrow yesterday.”
The girls burst into giggles.
Lauren worked my ass off throughout the day. I sweated and swore, complained and moaned, my nieces finding it very funny. Yet somehow, I had a great day. At the sight of the girls racing around, Amanda trying to drop a fat earthworm into her sister’s T-shirt as Sylvie screamed, I actually considered bringing my camera out. Photography had lost its pleasure many months ago, but now I wanted to capture the sweet, innocent joy of both young girls.
Pleasure in life was seeping back and God did it feel good.
Late afternoon, exhausted, sitting on the ground and admiring my achievement - now one third of the back garden prepared for flora to be planted - and wiping sweaty grime from my brow, I took a huge gulp of ice water Lauren had kindly provided.
Summer sun had dropped below the treetops that now cast a cooling shade. No bug bites spoiled my peace, just the calming summer hum and whine of small insects. Behind me, inside, both girls were taking showers, supervised by their mother.
Lauren emerged in jean shorts, flat canvass shoes, and a buttoned white shirt, the tails tied at the waist exposing her stomach. She sat next to me, leaned back on her arms and observed, “You achieved a lot today. Rest obviously did you good.”
Aside from an aching body, I was fine. I nodded in agreement, telling her, “I’m exhausted, though,” and studied my sister. She had very nice long legs, slender and tanned. Her cotton shirt did a fine job of emphasizing her breasts, too. They looked full, not too large, and suited her slender body.
She smiled when my inspection reached her face, her sapphire eyes twinkling, her shortish amber hair free and falling to the top of her shoulders.
“You’ve grown into a great looking lady,” I commented. “I’m amazed some guy hasn’t snatched you up by now.”
She laughed, free and easy. “I wasn’t looking.” Her laughter died away. “Maybe, subconsciously, I was waiting for you, Ryan.”
A rare event happened. I felt a stir of arousal, the exact same feeling I’d felt over twenty years ago; desire for Lauren seeping in. Sex had not been a big part of my life. Occasional bed partners were few and far between, and never satisfying beyond sexual gratification. Lauren could stir something much, much different in me.
With mischief in her eyes, she observed, “It’s a shame you’re so worn out. I had plans.”
I quickly pointed out, “A shower always revives me. Are you feeling grimy, too? We’ve never showered together.”
Lauren laughed. “There’s a world of what we’ve never done together. I think I might just like exploring that world.”
Then she became serious on me. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Absolutely.” Reaching over, I took her fine-boned hand and squeezed, smiling at her. Her beautiful eyes twinkled. She squeezed my hand back and returned my smile.
That’s how two reinvigorated nieces found us.
“Look!” Sylvie exclaimed. “Mom and Uncle Ryan are holding hands!”
It pointed to a slight problem in our future - the girls talking about a brother and sister living together. Lauren caught on faster than I did.
“I think you two should just call your uncle Ryan.”
Amanda went, “Huh?”
She was joined by her sister, “What? Call him Uncle Ryan? We already do!”
Laughing, I clarified, “Call me Ryan, not Uncle Ryan.”
I left Lauren to explain and went for a shower.
The promise of renewed intimacy with my sister lead to a state of constant, mild arousal; that special thrill, that feeling of excitement, of anticipation of closeness only lovers share. A long-missed edge of illicitness sharpened my excitement.
Throughout dinner and an evening spent watching television, I was very aware of her, and she was of me, too. Lauren had this soft curl at the corners of her lips, her eyes bright and intense, that made her so beautiful. In her, I could see her all those years ago; the same beautiful ten-year-old, the same deep attraction, the same strong pull.
We sat side-by-side, Amanda on my side, Sylvie on Lauren’s. I eased my arm over her shoulders and relaxed.
When I’d offered to pour us some wine with dinner, Lauren had declined.
“Don’t drink, Ryan. It’s not helping you,” she’d suggested.
A slight tug of need told me I was close to becoming dependant on the dulling comfort of alcohol, so I resisted.
Eventually, with cheeks kissed, Amanda and Sylvie went to bed, grinning at us. Lauren relaxed against me, her hand resting on my thigh. I turned the television off and the sounds of night returned; insects, an owl’s hoot, the rustle of a summer breeze stirring trees.
Lauren broke the silence. “I’ve looked forward to this so much,” she said. “But now I’m nervous.”
She stared at the black TV screen and answered, “I’m not that young girl anymore, Ryan. I’m a mother and much older.”
I understood her. But she was wrong, very wrong. “I’ve thought about it a lot over the years, trying to understand. Sure, there was some aspect to your youth that appealed to me. And you were a girl, which counted in your favor . . .”
Lauren laughed softly.
“. . . But it was you I loved, your personality most of all. I loved you, Lauren. I still do. It doesn’t matter how we’ve aged.”
Lauren responded. “You’re goooood!” Smiling, she took my hand and pulled my arm off her shoulders. “I’m tired of waiting. I want to go to bed with you.”
With that, she stood and tugged. I rose and followed her down the hall, entering the master bedroom. Turning, she moved against me, her head nestling under my chin. We hugged, and soft arousal strengthened at the feel of her body against me. She fit me so well. So slender, so fine-boned, yet she was all female. I could feel her breasts pressed against me. Under my hands, her hips were narrow. When she turned her face up smiling softly, when I bent my head and kissed my sister, when soft lips brushed, and when her tongue touched mine, my hands dropped to cup her rear, discovering sensual female beauty. An erection slowly formed.
Lauren rubbed my back and pressed herself against me even harder, the pressure on my developing erection feeling wonderful.
When the kiss ended, Lauren, with beautiful blue eyes deep and expressive, smiled. “I’m glad I still turn you on,” she said.
“You have no concept,” I assured her, fondling her rear.
With another gentle smile, she released me and stepped back. Her hands unknotted her shirt and moved to each button. She watched me.
In the darkest of nights in my career, alone and in foreign lands and not entirely safe, deep inside me, I’d dreamed of seeing my sister like this. To me, she looked unchanged from her wedding day, so beautiful, the only woman I’d ever truly desired.
Her eyes sparkled like gems in the soft light of the bedside lamp. Then she eased her shirt open revealing a pale, powder blue bra and the upper swell of her breasts. It was a simple bra without flourishes, the color enhancing the sharpness of her eyes. Still smiling gently, she shrugged the shirt off, her fingers moving to her shorts, button opening. A sensual hip motion and shorts were pushed down revealing matching panties; shimmering satin, simple, with lace on the sides.
When she stepped out of her shorts, she stood and let me inspect her. I’d been right. She’d hardly changed from my memory of her as a bride. Tugging my Polo shirt up and off, I admired her; her body slender, waist narrow, a gentle flare to her hips, the shape of her bottom; curves in all the right places. Her stomach was not quite flat, a gentle, sensual feminine swell below her navel.
Unbuttoning my jeans, I pushed them down, my partial erection pressing out in boxers. Lauren smiled, studying me openly.
The first words were spoken as I drew her to me.
“You’ve matured into a very sexy man, Ryan,” her hands settling on my chest to rub the dusting of hair.
“I think you’ve done a better job. You’re spectacularly sexy,” I answered, combing my hands through her amber hair, silken and fragrant. “Your hands are cold,” I observed.
“Just nerves,” she claimed. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been with a man.”
Rising on tiptoes, she kissed me, brushing her silky lips against mine. With a twist of my fingers, her bra opened. She eased back slightly and shrugged it off.
I looked down. Lauren had beautiful breasts, perhaps slightly more than a handful, her areolae dark pink, her nipples soft but large. Her breasts were firm and full; softly curved underneath, sloping above, gravity not making much of an impact. I cupped one, my thumb brushing her nipple. Lauren shivered slightly.
In my hand, her breast had beautiful heft, a sensual weight, mature, yet still sitting proudly on her. When I brushed her nipple again, I watched as her areola tightened and her nipple swelled.
Lauren sighed, her hands easing into the waist of my boxers at the sides. She pushed them down. They fell. Her hand gently cradled my erection, palm up, almost weighing it, her soft touch arousing me. It thickened and expanded even more under her caress, stiffening.
The top of her thumb rubbed softly. “You’re bigger than I remember,” she murmured.
For a few moments we stood, me caressing her breast, her caressing my erection. Then her blue eyes turned up to me. She smiled, her hand slowly closing into a fist, stroking me. Warm pleasure arrived.
I guided her back to the bed and we tumbled slowly, landing side-by-side, Lauren still holding my erection. With her hand driving my arousal higher, I reached down and cupped her pussy, rubbing and exploring her. Silky satin slipped beneath my hands. I felt the crinkle of pubic hair, the shape of her mons, the sides of her pussy narrowing towards her crotch, and then the remarkable fullness of her vulva, so sensual and exciting.
Lauren let my erection go and eased her panties off. She stretched out on her back, took my hand, and guided it back to her pussy.
Leaning in, I kissed her as I touched soft, silken pubes, running my fingertips through them, and easing down. Our lips brushed, then pressed, and as I touched her cleft, Lauren’s tongue tasted me.
Our kiss deepened, her tongue warm, her arm rising to circle my neck. Below, I caressed her. Soft labia welcomed me with warm moisture. Her clit moved under my finger. Arousal grew. I wanted Lauren so desperately.
Still kissing, my sister guided me on top, her knees cradling my hips.
So close to intercourse, I almost forgot. “I don’t have protection,” I said, regret flooding through me. I hadn’t bought condoms!
Lauren smiled. “I’m safe. I’m on the pill.” Her eyes bore into mine. “Would it bother you if we had a child together?”
I didn’t have to think twice. “If we could have a healthy child, I’d love it.”
Lauren smiled with pleasure. She reached between us and carefully held my erection, guiding the tip along her cleft, her labia spreading in a silken caress. A wave of excitement hit me when she led me to her entrance, poised to penetrate her.
Moving gently, the experience new but familiar, the tip of my erection eased into her when I pressed, her moist pussy so snug, so beautiful.
Lauren inhaled, ending the kiss. We stared into each other eyes as I moved with slow, short strokes, each bringing pleasure. Ever so slowly I penetrated my sister deeper and deeper, her pussy a velvet glove gripping me. And finally, our groins touched, my erection buried inside her, throbbing with pleasure.
Lauren sighed. She smiled slightly, her pussy gently tightening as she explored the feeling. “I missed this,” she whispered. “Can we stay like this for a while?”
Nodding, I kissed her, enjoying how my erection swelled and throbbed inside her, her pussy so snug. It was perfect, absolutely perfect. We fit together so well.
I cupped her breast, loving its mature heft, yet still youthfully firm and sexy. Touching her nipple, rubbing lightly, I felt it respond again, tightening, hardening, growing; so exciting.
Lauren ran her fingers through my hair and pulled me into another kiss, our mouths settling against each other, opening, a light touch of tongues gaining intensity.
Unable to stop, I eased my erection out, her pussy gripping my shaft as if trying to keep me in, then, with a wash of pleasure, I penetrated her again, slipping into a snug, moist velvet grip. Our kiss intensified, tongues dueling, and I withdrew again, the feeling incredible, then stroked back into heaven.
Lauren moved underneath me, her hips turning up to meet me, and just like that, without any fanfare, we moved together, fucking slowly in the most intimate of dances.
Pleasure intensified, my erection rigid and throbbing. The kiss ended. Breathing faster, I found her neck and inhaled deeply, drawing her sensual scent of peaches and blossoms deep. Lauren, undulating beneath me, stroked the back of my head, her other hand dropping to my hip, urging me on.
“God, this feels good,” she whispered.
Moving faster, loving every sensation, we made love, fucking gently, simply, uncomplicated. Arousal built, desire blossoming, and need arrived with astonishing speed. Fucking my sister, I concentrated, waiting for her, trying to hold off, hoping she’d find release. It became difficult; stroking into her, her pussy so beautifully snug, an erotic massage like no other. Pressure built, threatening, demanding release, my body tensing.
I couldn’t stop my orgasm. Making love with Lauren after so many years, after yearning for her for so long, was much better than I’d imagined, more intense, utterly perfect.
“I can’t hold back,” I murmured, pulse racing, now thrusting, erection straining.
Lauren responded, urging me with a whisper, “Cum, Ryan,” her hips curling up at my thrusts, taking me deep into her body, all the way, slippery and warm, so incredibly arousing.
“Lauren,” I whispered with a gasp.
Like a dam suddenly breached, my erection swelled massively and semen raced up my shaft, erupting into her in an exquisite, almost painful pulse, pleasure cascading through me.
Lauren whispered, “Yes. Cum, Ryan,” and my orgasm intensified, an agonizing explosion of bliss, semen spurting as I thrust into her. Breathing fast, body rigid, I came hard, thrusting and spurting into her, her pussy suddenly very slippery, cum exploding in exquisite release. My body heaved, cock strained, and I emptied myself inside her, such sweet release, the peak of my orgasm passing with a deep groan of pleasure.
As bodies stilled, Lauren stroked my back. Post-orgasmic peace settled over me; the type of peace that can only be felt when you’re with someone you deeply love.
LAUREN SIGHED TO HERSELF. She hadn’t climaxed. However, she’d felt something even more intense, something that dampened her eyes. Holding Ryan on top of her, his weight so good, she let herself bask in pleasure she’d dreamed about but never thought she’d experience again.
The way her brother had looked at her, the way he’d said her name, was so different from Peter. Peter had lust and ownership in his eyes; Ryan pure love, almost adoration, and it was very powerful.
Silent tears of joy welled and fell. How could she be so lucky? She stopped him when he made to move off her. “No. Not yet,” she whispered, hugging him. She felt him soften and slip out, and the warm sensation of his semen leaking.
She’d noticed how quickly he’d answered her when she talked about having a baby with him - no hesitation at all, and she wondered what it would be like, how her girls would react, what it would feel like to have a family, all of them together? She wanted it. She so desperately wanted it.
Her love was almost painful, an ache inside her that threatened to overwhelm her. It mixed with joy. Feeling Ryan inside her, feeling him loving her, his actions so gentle and considerate, had been as good as a climax, if not better. This intimacy was much more powerful to her. It was a feeling she’d never experienced; too young the first time with Ryan, and her ex, Peter, never coming close to this intensity.
Smiling softly to herself, she thought about how good Ryan was with Amanda and Sylvie. She could see it in how he played with them, chased, joked, and laughed with genuine delight. She could see it in how he hugged them, too, his smile soft, pleasure sparkling in his warm brown eyes. He would make a great father. No, he was a great father, whether he realized it or not.
She loved him. She adored him.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Ryan eased himself off her, settling to her side. He looked into her eyes and smiled slightly. “I love you, too,” he responded. With concern entering his eyes, he asked, “Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”
“No. I’m happy, you idiot,” Lauren responded.
Cuddling together, she was conscious of Ryan falling asleep and slowly she followed.
In the dark, much, much later, she was woken by a dip in the mattress. Ryan was spooning her, his naked body warm against her. Unable to see, the scent and ticklish curls told her Sylvie had come for some comfort. Without a word, she drew her daughter to her, spooning her, hugging her gently. Sylvie’s familiar, sweet scent followed her back into sleep.
Warm morning sun drew Lauren from a deep, relaxing sleep. In her arms, she was still hugging Sylvie, still spooning her. However, behind her she missed feeling Ryan against her.
Opening her eyes and turning to look, she had to smile. Her brother, on his side facing away from her, was spooning Amanda, both deep in sleep. For a moment, she watched. It was such a beautiful sight.
When nature called, she shook Sylvie lightly. “Time to get up. Keep quiet.”
Sylvie stirred, rubbed her eyes, smiled, nodded, and slipped from the bed. Lauren reached across her brother and shook Amanda gently. When she stirred, Lauren put her finger to her lips, “Shhh. Time to get up.”
In the kitchen, with her brother still gone to the world, Lauren asked Amanda, “How did you end up next to Uncle Ryan?”
Sylvie immediately corrected her, swallowing a spoonful of Apple Cinnamon Cheerios. “It’s Ryan, not Uncle Ryan, Mom!”
“You’re right. My mistake. So?” she asked Amanda.
“There wasn’t any room next to you,” Amanda claimed, “so I got in on Ryan’s side.”
“How did you sleep?” Lauren asked.
“Like when I’m with you. He hugged me!” Amanda exclaimed, shoving another spoon of cereal into her mouth, milk running down her chin. She chewed and swallowed. “And he smells really good!”
“Next time, I wanna sleep next to Ryan!” Sylvie claimed.
“I was first!” Amanda announced with glee.
Lauren saw trouble brewing. Before she could head it off, Ryan emerged from the hall wearing a pair of lime green boxers, his sandy hair spiked. He smiled, scratching his scalp as he wandered over, the girls giggling quietly, and kissed her cheek.
“Morning. I slept incredibly well,” he informed her, turning to pour himself a mug of coffee.
He didn’t know! Lauren smiled, a flush of love making her heart skip. “How was it?” she asked, her face neutral when he turned back.
“Last night?” he asked, grinning. “Need you ask?”
Lauren laughed. “No. How was it sleeping with Amanda.”
Puzzlement furrowed his brow. Amanda giggled. He glanced at her.
“I slept with you!” she exclaimed.
Lauren, taking pity on him, explained. “Both girls ended up in your bed when they couldn’t find me in my bedroom. You hugged Amanda all night.” With a pretend pout, she added, “I’m devastated. You should have been hugging me after everything,” emphasizing the word ’everything’.
For just a moment, Ryan looked like a young boy, caught. Then he grinned. “I wish I could remember it. Never had a better night’s sleep in my life. Thanks, Amanda.”
“You’re welcome!” Amanda replied, grinning back at him.
Lauren noted how Sylvie studied Ryan and knew what was going through her mind. She was equally sure, the next time Sylvie snuck into bed, it would be on the other side. Sylvie didn’t take well to being one-upped by her younger sister.
Turning her attention to making breakfast for Ryan, Lauren planned the day; more gardening for him while she and the girls shopped for some plants.
Mid-afternoon, returning with a Toyota packed with plants, she found Ryan sitting on his ass in shorts, topless and barefoot, peering through the lens of a camera. There’d been precious little progress made in the garden. He obviously needed as much supervision as the girls.
“You slacker!” she accused.
He turned his camera on her, the whirring sound of multiple photos being taken. Frowning, she almost had a word with him. Her daughters struggled around the house carrying plants. Ryan immediately turned, his camera whirring.
Both girls, acting like divas, dropped the plants and started posing and giggling, egged on by Ryan, “Great pose!” “Give me a smile!” “Show us some leg!” “Toss your hair!”
Shaking her head, Lauren set about arranging the plants where he was GOING to plant them this evening!
With her in charge, things were done efficiently. She resisted the urge to kiss her brother deeply, an urge that happened frequently when she saw him dirty and sweaty and very handsome. She wasn’t at the point where she was comfortable with outward affection of that sort in front of Sylvie and Amanda.
Showered, fed, and sprawled out on the couch, with each girl at his side, his arms around them, she watched Ryan laugh easily with her daughters at Two Broke Girls. What was it about seeing how good he was with them that turned her on? It did! It made him very attractive.
With a final rinse of the last dish, Lauren wiped her hands and went over, Sylvie only moving slightly to give her room on the couch, refusing to leave Ryan’s side.
Lauren ignored the television sitcom; instead, she basked in the pleasure of watching her brother with his arms around each girl. He looked completely relaxed, his smile easy, occasionally looking down at Sylvie or Amanda when they’d comment on the show. Her daughters were animated and smiling, clearly enjoying themselves.
She let her mind wander into the intimate, to those daydreams she’d had as an adolescent girl, long before marriage. Her imagination had been vivid and active. All her erotic daydreams had featured Ryan, even after marriage. Even when she’d been in bed with her husband, it had been Ryan she’d imagined with her, helping her find pleasure where Peter fell short.
And there were those things she’d wanted to try, things she refused to try with Peter; oral sex, anal sex, and sex outside of the bedroom; spontaneous sex just for the pleasure of it.
Getting hornier, her breasts feeling full and sensitive, her pussy flushed and throbbing gently, Lauren tried to picture taking Ryan’s erection into her mouth, sucking him, caressing him with her tongue while stroking his shaft. What would it feel like to have him cum in her mouth, spurting, his erection pulsing?
“Are you all right?” Ryan asked. “You’re flushed.”
Amanda and Sylvie looked at her.
“I’m fine,” Lauren assured them, her face warming in embarrassment. ”It’s the heat from washing dishes.”
Ryan studied her closely. As if he could read her mind, he grinned. “If you say so.”
How could he know? Did he really know? Was he guessing?
She found out as soon as the girls were in bed. Sitting next to her brother, the television off, a warm glow cast by one table lamp fighting off the dark night, Ryan rested his arm over her shoulders and drew her close.
“So,” he said. “What were you thinking about that got you all hot and bothered?”
Lauren laughed. “How did you know?”
Ryan answered, “Your eyes glitter when you’re turned on.”
“Uh-huh. You were the same as a kid - that hungry look.”
Lauren laughed again. “I never knew.”
“So, what were you thinking about?” he asked again.
Smiling, Lauren responded, “Maybe I’ll show you. Care to take me to bed?”
This time, she let Ryan lead her. As soon as they entered his bedroom, she stopped. When he turned, she smiled, rose up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek softly.
“Get in bed. I'll be just a minute,” she suggested, stepping out to go change.
In her own room, Lauren hunted through her dresser, finding what she wanted. In the bathroom, she prepared and dressed, checking herself in the mirror. Satisfied, she returned to Ryan’s bedroom to find him in bed. Soft music played from a small stereo. The bedside lamp cast a yellow light over him, shadows highlighting the planes of his face. Warm, light brown eyes looked at her and widened.
She’d put on her plain white silk baby doll top with matching bikini panties. The silk caressed her skin, sensual and exciting. Her nipples, already taut and sensitive in anticipation, we're clearly evident. Ryan’s eyes drifted down her body, his eyes admiring, as she moved to the foot of the bed.
“You’re so sexy,” he observed.
Lauren smiled and slowly tugged the covers down, uncovering his chest, then his stomach and, with a shiver of arousal, his boxers, the outline of his erection so exciting.
Crawling onto the bed, she moved up to his side on hands and knees, bending to kiss him gently. He inhaled deeply through his nose when she explored the shape of his sexy erection.
Another tremor of excitement hit her, her nipples taut, pussy throbbing. She loved how she could arouse her brother and loved his erection; firm, thick, long. She stroked it with the palm of her hand, liking how it responded with a throb, pushing up at her.
Ryan’s hands reached for her. She broke the kiss and moved out of reach, rising to sit on her heels. “Not yet.”
Reaching for the hem of her baby doll nightie, she eased it up and off. Ryan’s eyes stared at her breasts, then dropped to her panties, finally rising to look at her.
He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You’ve got gorgeous breasts. They’re perfect.”
Playing with him, pleased at his compliment, Lauren cupped them, caressing gently, excitement and pleasure warming her. She loved how her brother’s eyes widened, staring at her touching herself, rubbing her nipples.
“Jeez, that’s so sexy,” he murmured.
She noticed his cock bob. Still smiling with pleasure, Lauren laid her hand on his flat stomach and rubbed the small trail of sandy hair that led from his navel to under the waist of his boxers. She followed the trail, easing her fingers under the waist. Her heart beat faster, welcome arousal washing through her, her body responding. She loved it! She loved being aroused so much; something only Ryan could stir in her, something she’d missed for so, so long. How could incest be wrong when it felt like this?
Easing her hand into his boxers, her fingertip touched a bit of slippery moisture, then the tip of Ryan’s erection. A shudder of excitement hit her. His precum excited her so much; an amazing sign of how she could turn him on.
Slowly, watching his eyes, Lauren took his erection in her hand, holding the thick shaft. His eyes narrowed, nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply.
“I love your erection,” Lauren murmured, rubbing the tip with her thumb. His cock flexed in her hand.
Withdrawing her hand, she took the waist of his boxers. “Lift.” Drawing them down, she admired his erection as it was exposed, straight, full, large, so exciting. She placed the boxers behind her.
Lauren leaned over and kissed him, brushing her lips against his. A shudder shook her when Ryan cupped her breast, fondling her, tweaking her nipple, a pulse of pleasure making her pussy clench and throb.
Ending the kiss, she whispered, “I’m going to do something I never did with Peter, something I used to imagine doing with you.”
Smiling at him, she straightened at his side and took his shaft in her hand, raising it, stroking it slowly with a light touch, loving how it pulsed, alive, her brother so horny. With a light squeeze, Lauren bent and slipped his erection into her mouth, the crown soft and warm against her tongue, swelling, shaft straining.
“Jesus, Lauren,” Ryan moaned.
Lauren smiled with his cock in her mouth, loving the heat in his voice. She tasted a bead of precum; no flavor, just silky, slippery. She sucked him gently and stroked his shaft, pleased with his moan, his erection throbbing.
Ryan surprised her by easing her head up and off. “Did I do it wrong?” she asked.
“Hell no! But I want in on the action,” he answered with a grin. His hand touched her ass, caressed her buttock, and eased deeper, touching her pussy over her panties.
Lauren shuddered, her pussy aching, now moist and hot.
Ryan pulled the back of her panties down. “Take them off.”
She moved around, pushing her panties down and off, then knelt at his side.
Ryan grinned, his cock bobbing. “Straddle me.”
Understanding his intent, heat washed through her. She shuffled around, her knees on each side of his head, leaned forward, and held his erection again, lifting it and easing it into her mouth.
She moaned at the sudden pleasure hitting her when Ryan kissed her cleft. She sucked his cock gently, her mouth full, tongue caressing the sides, loving how he felt. It was an intense experience.
Mouth full, Lauren snorted, inhaling sharply when Ryan sucked her clit, a rush of pleasure hitting, pussy pulsing. Stroking his shaft, she tried to concentrate, wanting to make it good for him, trying to make her first time giving head one he’d always remember. She moved her mouth down, his cock pressing deep. Opening her mouth wider, her lips eased down on his shaft, the tip of his cock touching the back of her mouth. Could she deep throat him? How?
Before she could try, another sharp pulse of pleasure hit her making her body tremble, Ryan’s tongue strumming her clit the way he’d done when she was ten years old. Then she felt him. She felt his finger slip into her pussy and her thighs shook, body responding, heart racing.
Determined to give her brother pleasure, Lauren, before she lost it, started moving her mouth up and down his erection and stroked his thick shaft at the same time. She sucked him, teased the tip with her tongue and, with her free hand, cupped his testicles, gently fondling him.
Arousal stormed her body; Ryan’s stimulating her clit driving her higher, higher, her stomach tensing. Determination set in. She fucked his erection with her mouth, bobbing up and down, stroking his shaft. Dizziness assaulted her. Unable to stop herself, she started rubbing her now wet pussy against her brother’s mouth, waves of pleasure washing over her, building, her nipples brushing against his body underneath her.
A sudden suck on her clit and two fingers penetrating her took her by storm, her climax slamming into her, air inhaled deeply through her nose. Bliss assaulted her, her pussy clenching and pulsing, ecstasy flooding her.
Suddenly, in her mouth, Ryan’s crown expanded. In her hand, his shaft stiffened and swelled. She felt it! She felt semen pulsing up, and hot cum exploded in her mouth, she swallowed just as another strong throb hit him, a huge spurt of semen flooding her mouth, hot and thick. Eyes closed, Lauren shook through her climax, pleasure radiating up from her pussy, body shaking, and drowned in the sensation of Ryan cumming in her mouth, his hard erection pulsing as if alive, crown expanding, hot semen spurting, spurting. Swallowing, Lauren felt dizzy, too many sensations hitting her. Her body shook, muscles cramped, then ached as her climax peaked, bliss, bliss, her brother’s erection spurting hard, swallowing his thick cum, and suddenly, the peak passed, ecstasy displaced by warmth and pleasure and calm, her body slowly relaxing. In her hand, Ryan’s throbs eased and stopped, his spurts ending. She sucked gently, felt him soften in her mouth, let it fall out and kissed the tip before and collapsing on him, her full weight on him, her body drained, sweet peace flooding her. Perfect.
LATE JULY, I SAT on the newly installed dark wooden patio that hovered six inches off the ground. It was expansive, well thought out, with a gas barbecue at one end. I admired the large rock garden beyond. It needed the color of blossoming annuals but we were too late into summer to plant them. Perennial bushes with small, pretty flowers thrived adding texture and some color. To the far left, a neat, well-organized herb garden flourished.
Bringing my camera up, I took some shots for posterity. A chair scraped next to me. Lauren, smiling, sat across from me, the newly acquired aluminum and glass-topped table between us. Sun and crystal clear skies brought dry heat that warmed my bare chest.
“It’s hot,” Lauren observed. “Do you remember us skinny dipping together?”
“Every detail,” I assured her.
“I wish we could skinny dip again,” Lauren commented wistfully.
So did I! Damn! Why hadn’t I thought about it before? “We will,” I informed her. “We’re going to have a pool installed,” I announced, suddenly enthusiastic at the idea.
Lauren laughed. “It’s too late. Maybe next year?”
“Too late? Never! We’ll have a heated pool, and build it so it can be indoor and outdoor! Can you imagine swimming in a hot pool in the middle of winter? It’ll be fantastic!” I enthused.
Standing suddenly, energized, with Lauren laughing at me, I informed her I was going to arrange it immediately! Three weeks and we’d be swimming!
As it turned out, I’d underestimated the complexity of the task. Planning permission was required. An architect was needed to design the addition. Builders, contractors, and logistics threatened to overwhelm me. Lauren took charge, decisive and organized. Two months of construction soon started.
In the meantime, something extraordinary occurred. I’d become very close to both Amanda and Sylvie, finding real joy in their youthful enthusiasm, their occasional spats, and the unique way they looked at the world around them, something only the young are capable of; curious, fascinated, and full of wonder.
Sylvie wanted to learn photography so I lent her one of my digital cameras. My pride and joy, a Hasselblad H6d-100c was off limits to her. At ten years old, Sylvie demonstrated a sharp eye, naturally capable of framing shots to make them interesting, not just the ordinary pictures Amanda took. Amanda only showed interest because her older sister had, and then quickly lost her enthusiasm, preferring to dance and run and swing and climb trees. She liked being a model for Sylvie and Sylvie liked taking pictures of her sister. Thank goodness for digital cameras. We’d have been bankrupt if we’d had to buy and develop film.
Lauren flourished as well. She glowed. Her smiles were broad and easily given, her laughter bright, her deep sapphire eyes shining; absolutely beautiful. Our sex life was frequent and inventive and varied and satisfying.
Up to now, it had been carefully contained to our bedroom and the girls hadn’t caught us in flagrante delicto. Depression had finally left me. I’d found happiness and peace.
And in early August, after a delectable meal of Black Forest ham and Monterey Jack Jalapeño cheese-stuffed roasted pork tenderloin, spiced with a brush of Sriracha hot sauce, accompanied by roasted asparagus and Basmati rice, as a family we relaxed in the living room. The girls watched television while Lauren and I chatted, discussing the state of the pool construction.
I don’t know what Amanda saw on the television, but she giggled furiously, such a sweet sound. In a flush of affection, I hugged her and kissed the top of her head.
She looked up at me, grinning, a couple of missing teeth giving her a cute impish look. Then, getting off the couch from next to me, she went to her mother’s side and whispered something in Lauren’s ear, her hand cupped.
I wondered what Amanda was up to. Lauren’s eyes went wide and glistened as if ready to cry. She smiled gently, caressing Amanda’s red hair.
“Why don’t you ask him?” she suggested.
It was a defining moment in my life.
Amanda nodded and came over to me, standing in front of me. She asked, very seriously, “Would it be alright if I called you Daddy?”
Lauren brushed a tear from her cheek, watching us. Sylvie immediately lost interest in the TV show.
A lump formed in my throat. This was, for a young girl, the ultimate acceptance and it touched me deeply. Reaching out, I caressed her cheek. “I’d be thrilled,” I assured her, my voice a bit rough.
Amanda smiled broadly. “Kay!” She sat next to me, close, her body touching mine. I hugged her small shoulders, my heart thumping.
Sylvie looked at me. “Can I call you Dad?” she asked.
I nodded, finally smiling. “I’d be honored.”
Lauren, brushing away tears, stood and went to the kitchen. When she returned, holding a glass of Coke, she sat and smiled at me, pleasure making her deep blue eyes sparkle.
She spoke. “Perhaps this is the right time to mention I’ve been considering reverting to our family name.”
Both girls looked at her. Sylvie asked, “But what about us?”
“We can change your names, too, if you want,” Lauren offered.
“I want to!” Sylvie stated. “Sylvie Collier. Yup! Much better!” Turning to her sister, she added, “And you’ll be Amanda Collier.”
“I know that!” Amanda exclaimed. “I’m not stupid!”
Sylvie immediately responded, ”Sometimes you’re . . .”
“Sylvie,” Lauren warned. Sylvie closed her mouth.
In bed that night, Lauren rolled into my side, her hand toying with the hair on my chest. “We’re a family now,” she commented.
“Did you put Amanda up to it?” I asked.
Lauren chuckled. “No. That was all her.”
I rolled to face her. Soft lamplight made her eyes almost glow, intense and beautiful. “It touched me deeply,” I told her.
“I know. I could see it. They love you, Ryan,” my sister pointed out. Then she kissed me, her arm around my body pulling me close.
Reaching behind me, I turned the light off. Darkness shrouded us, touch, smell, and sound our only senses.
Kissing intensified, softly passionate. As if agreed, we rolled apart and I shucked my boxers. When I rolled back towards her, Lauren was naked, her skin soft and warm against me. Kissing resumed, her hand exploring my body. I traced the sensual curves of her beautiful body, down her side, up over her hip, down her thigh, then to the back of her thigh and up.
Lauren eased her leg over my thigh opening herself to my touch, her hand easing between us to find a waiting erection. I touched her pussy, silken pubic hairs tickling my fingertips, the valley of her cleft, the slight bump where her clit peeked out, and caressed it.
Lauren fondled me, squeezing, stroking, tickling my tip with her thumb, and precum released, silken and slippery. The kiss ended with Lauren sighing.
“I love feeling your erection,” she murmured, her breath warm and clean against my face. Her scent seemed to intensify, filling my nose with peaches and blossoms. Her hand guided the tip of my erection through her pubes, easing it down to brush along her cleft, touching my fingertips where I caressed her.
Together, we guided me, her labia slowly parting, hugging my tip. Lauren nudged me with her lower knee. Lifting my body, her leg slipped under my waist, her other leg hooking over my thigh.
With a shudder and a sigh of pleasure, still on our sides, the tip of my cock lodged at the base of her cleft. A gentle push and I penetrated her, a moist ring oozing over my crown. Heat and warmth and moisture welcomed me. She squeezed her pussy bringing a soft wave of pleasure, my erection responding, flexing.
Holding her gorgeous buttock, I thrust gently, eased back and thrust again, and slowly Lauren took me in, her vagina a velvet sheath, snug and exciting. It was unadventurous sex yet deeply satisfying. Held by her legs, I penetrated her fully, deeply, and withdrew, her legs tightening and drawing me back. We moved with familiarity, fucked gently, kissing lightly. Under my hand, I felt her naked buttock move and loved it. I loved each thrust, the sensation of my sister’s pussy taking me in with a sensual, erotic massage, snug and exciting. We fucked almost languidly, two people with to prove, just familiar intimate pleasure, wonderful. And too soon, the signs of my orgasm stirred; body tensing, erection swelling and feeling thick, testicles tightening. Fucking my sister was just too good. Her hand caressed my neck, her hips moving in counterpoint to mine, taking me inside, long strokes. Lauren drew my mouth to hers. She kissed gently, silken lips moving, a brush of the tip of her tongue, and ended the kiss, whispering heatedly, “I’m cumming. Cum with me, Ryan.”
Body undulating, pussy pressing, Lauren inhaled. Her body shuddered lightly, rhythm briefly lost then resumed, fucking at me harder, her pussy clenching, pulsing, milking me. “Lauren,” I whispered and came, my orgasm rushing in, erection swelling, aching, and sweet release hit me, semen spurting in a beautiful pulse. Lauren groaned and thrust her pussy at me as I stroked into her again, a strong burst of ecstasy swamping me. I spurted again, hard, crown swelling. Writhing together, almost silently, we climaxed together, Lauren’s pussy clenching, my erection spurting, sweet bliss washing over me until the peak passed and, together, we slowed and stilled, quieted and settled. It was uncomplicated loving, a reaffirmation of our love, and deeply satisfying.
As August passed, construction moved into high gear. Sylvie took pictures of every stage, every change, and reviewed them with me every evening. Amanda charmed the workers, showing such persistent inquisitiveness they started calling her to come see things. My initial worry at her being around machinery slowly faded. Besides, she looked very, very cute wearing a too-big hardhat, holding it on with one hand.
August had been a busy month. Lawyers finalized my sister’s and the girl’s change in surname back to Collier. Secretly I was pleased. Peter was the one man I’d felt jealousy for, the only man. And Lauren carrying his surname, Bleachman, had been a reminder of my feelings.
With the official name change, Lauren and I enrolled the girls in school, just two weeks away. The girls were very excited, especially after visiting and seeing the facilities. Sylvie was excited they had girls’ soccer and volleyball. Amanda was excited to meet new friends.
To everyone outside, Lauren was my wife, Amanda and Sylvie my adopted daughters. No one questioned it and it helped explain when one of the girls inadvertently called me Ryan. Most of the time, Amanda called me Daddy, Sylvie, Dad - a more mature attitude as befitted the older sister. No matter which, I was thrilled every single time. I felt like I had a real family with my sister; something I’d never dared to dream about.
In late-August, when I’d tried to go for beer and alcohol only to find Lauren had taken the Toyota, I decided we needed another vehicle, especially with school looming. Thus, when I proudly drove up the drive in a black on black Toyota FJ Cruiser, Lauren was shocked. I hadn’t discussed it with her.
She took one look at it and then turned to me. “You shouldn’t buy me a car, Ryan,” she told me. “You’ve already done too much for us.”
Grinning, I corrected her. “This beauty is mine. You get the old one. Mine smells like a new car; the best smell in the world!”
Lauren laughed, shook her head, and accepted we now had two Toyotas.
Then, on August 26th, I let Lauren know how I truly felt about her.
We spent the day in Steamboat Springs. It’s almost a throwback to older times. The old part of town is lined with interesting shops, odd buildings that resemble the haphazard growth that had occurred, buildings of different architecture butting up against each other, and cars parked at an angle just like tethered horses. Ever-present in the distance are soaring mountain peaks, most with ski runs carved out of the carpet of evergreen trees in lines like streams, meandering back and forth.
People are friendly. They smile. And, not having spent much time at home, we were new to them. Shop owners, familiar with Lauren from her decorating binge, greeted her with friendliness, engaged Amanda and Sylvie in conversations, and told me how fortunate I was. I knew it.
Lunch at an unassuming restaurant was followed by a mid-afternoon latte and ice cream cones for the girls. Lauren bought bric-à-brac that interested her and I bought Sylvie a silver necklace that caught her eye. Amanda wanted a pink handbag. She got it.
At one point, I slipped away under false pretenses. Fifteen minutes later, I returned. When Lauren inquired what I’d been up to, I lied. “Checking on the building permits.”
“They were all issued last month,” she informed me, suspicion in her eyes.
It was a relaxing day together, completely enjoyable, and I loved being a family, relaxing in their conversations and interactions. That night, as we sat at the dining table eating dinner, I passed a medium-sized box across the table to my sister.
“I forgot. I got this for you today.”
Lauren said nothing. She looked down at the wrapped box, looked up at me, her eyes growing big.
I nodded at her. “Go on. Open it.”
The girls, showing impatience, urged her. “Go on Mom, open it!” and “Yeah, Mommy, open it!”
Lauren looked at her grinning daughters. “Do you know what’s in this?” she asked.
Well rehearsed, both assumed angelic expressions, shaking their heads. I was proud of them. My conversation with them had been worth it.
Lauren picked up the box and opened it only to find a small, royal blue velvet box inside. With her hand trembling slightly, she picked it up and opened it, letting out a quiet gasp. The ring, a single diamond set in a white gold band, was unpretentious and elegant, just like Lauren.
“We can’t make it official, so this is as close as I can get,” I said.
“Put it on, Mom!” Sylvie encouraged.
Lauren looked at me, so serious, her eyes damp and shining. “You put it on,” she said, extending the ring to me.
I did, slipping it onto her ring finger. Sylvie immediately spoke, “You’re supposed to kiss now!”
We did, our lips brushing. For the rest of the evening I caught Lauren admiring the ring, smiling with pleasure. The ring was a simple symbolic gesture, an expression of the love I had for her.
As August passed, we welcomed the cooler early fall temperatures of September. Autumn blazed in glory giving us a profusion of reds, oranges, and rust colors, the mountains covered in deep green. The girls started school, and Lauren took control of our house.
By that, I mean she took over managing our finances. I’d never paid much attention to it, leaving it in the hands of a moderately competent financial planner. When bills for the swimming pool started arriving and our bank account was dangerously low, Lauren expressed concern.
Not worried, I’d pointed to my study and told her to go to town. She’d spent two days unraveling my inadvertent mess and finally sat me down at the kitchen island counter, passing me a steaming mug of coffee.
“Your financial planner, Mark Newbury, is incompetent,” she informed me.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I worked part time for a financial planner and she taught me things,” Lauren told me. “Mark’s exposed too much of your investments in volatile stocks, too tech-heavy. You shouldn’t have more than ten percent invested. He’s invested twenty-eight percent of your capital, which is why you’re not doing as well as you could. You lost a chunk of capital last quarter.”
It sounded as if she knew what she was talking about. “What would you suggest?”
“Redistribute your investments. Reduce your exposure to the tech sector and invest in cash flow-strong companies who have solid EBITDA’s. Balance your portfolio with twenty percent in companies delivering consistent dividends. Place ten percent into high growth potential stocks, and invest in some ETF’s and reliable investment funds. Keep ten percent of your investments liquid so you can capitalize on opportunities or pay bills.”
Grinning, I commented, “I understood the bills part. What the heck was all the rest?”
Lauren laughed. “Do you really want to know?”
I didn’t. Within the week, my financial planner was fired and Lauren took over managing our finances and investments.
She also suggested, with the weather moving towards winter, that I should take up another hobby; something other than photography. It would help me balance my life, according to her. On the other hand, maybe she just wanted me out of the way so the construction crew could finish the job.
I agreed, expressing an interest in becoming a philatelist.
“I don’t think oral sex is an appropriate hobby, no matter how good you are at it,” my sister observed, making me laugh loudly.
She actually blushed when I corrected her. “It’s collecting postage stamps as a hobby, Lauren!”
Showing insight into me, still blushing furiously, she’d suggested painting. Thus, I started painting.
Amanda and Sylvie flourished in school, loving every minute of it. By late September, our indoor-outdoor pool was officially finished.
The grand opening was held three days later. It took that long to heat the thing, and Saturday was a day we could all celebrate together. We did. To joyous laughter and splashing and giggles, and several new friends of the girls invited to join the celebration, we had a blast; barbecue and all.
Later that night, once the girls were in bed and out for the count, Lauren grabbed my hand and led me back to the pool, glasses of white wine in our hands.
She stood and admired it. The architect had done a nice job. Full glass panels on three sides could be pulled back, opening it to the outside. Skylights brought in the sun. Lights in the pool made the water luminescent, pale blue, crystal clear and inviting. Wide steps led out of the pool at the far end, a diving board at our end.
Lauren, smiling, said, “Remember how this whole idea for the pool started?”
“No. Remind me.”
“Skinny dipping together?”
I grinned. “Great idea. Let me go get the bottle of wine first.”
I checked on the girls, both sound asleep, grabbed the ice cold Petit Chablis from the kitchen and returned. Lauren was already swimming.
In the clear water, as I undressed, I could see every detail of her as if magnified; the way her breasts moved sensually, buoyed by water, the scrumptious movement of her buttocks, and her carefully trimmed pubic bush, a sexy triangle of soft trimmed dark amber hair waving in the water. By the time I slipped into the pool, I had a partial erection and desire unfurling inside, with memories returning of her in the lake.
Lauren, as if she could read my mind, swam leisurely over to me, her arms finding my neck, her warm body pressed to me. She rubbed herself against my partial erection and smiled.
“Do you remember the first time we did this?” she asked.
Reaching down, I held her hips. “It’s one of my favorite memories.”
“We both came in the lake.”
I nodded, easing us towards the shallow end until my feet rested on the bottom, water up to my shoulders.
“We never made love in the lake,” Lauren observed. “I always wanted to try.” With a seductive rub of her pussy along my erection, my sister kissed me.
Our lips played, then tips of our tongues, then mouths opened and we kissed passionately. Lauren’s hand reached down and held my shaft, stroking slowly, arousal building inside me.
I held her gorgeous ass, a beautiful buttock in each hand.
With no effort whatsoever, my sister eased the tip of my erection down along her cleft and positioned me, her legs rising to circle my waist.
Warm water caressed out bodies. With gentle motions, I slowly penetrated her, her pussy beautifully snug. Filling her was such a turn on. Feeling my erection burrowing into her, held in a velvet grip, was so arousing. And feeling myself completely buried inside her, so warm, almost hot compared to the water, cock swelling and aching, was the best feeling in the world.
We kissed in the almost complete silence, a faint gurgle of water the only sound. Reaching between us, I cupped her sexy, full breast, slightly more than a handful, and fondled her. When I teased and lightly pinched her nipple, already turgid from the water temperature, Lauren moaned quietly and eased her hips back, my erection slowly oozing out of her. Just as I came close to completely pulling out, she reversed, taking me deep in a slow stroke. Holding her ass, I guided her. It was easy, the water making her so light. We started making love, slow strokes, cock rigid and thick. We fucked each other slowly, no rush, no urgency, kissing, tongues playing; enjoying ourselves. As passion grew, kissing ended. Lauren laid her cheek on my shoulder, her arms around me, hand caressing my back.
“This feels so good,” she murmured. “I love sex with you.”
“Amazing,” I agreed, still fondling her breast, one hand on her ass.
Slowly, the urgent need of an orgasm built, our movements speeding up, still languid but harder, more insistent. Fucking Lauren, cock thick and aching, penetrating her velvet pussy, she responded, riding me, thrusting her pussy at me with a curl of her pelvis and tightening of her legs.
Then, with a quiet sigh of delight, Lauren whispered, “I’m cumming,” her pussy clenching, breathing deeply. “Cum, Ryan. Cum with me.”
Without fanfare, I joined her, my erection swelling and, with a burst of pleasure, I came, semen erupting deep inside her. Withdrawing, I thrust again, another wave of bliss hitting me, cum spurting in exquisite release. We moved together, my cock spurting, cumming, cumming, sweet pleasure flooding me.
Sitting on the steps at the end of the pool, sipping wine and relaxing in post-orgasmic peace, I said, “I like making love in the pool. It’s very different.”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” Lauren agreed. “And very good, too. I’m glad we built it.”
So was I.
However, the next day, Sunday, very early in the morning when a weak sun peeked over the mountaintop waking me, I found myself spooning Lauren and felt a stir of morning horniness. Both girls had sneaked into our bed late in the night. I carefully woke Lauren by fondling her breast over her nightshirt. She stirred and I whispered into her ear.
“I’m horny. It’s early. Want to go for a morning swim?”
Lauren smiled and nodded. We carefully exited the bed without disturbing the girls, closed the bedroom door behind us, and hit the pool, naked and playful.
Things were going well. With the pool located at the opposite end of the house, we were confident neither Amanda nor Sylvie would hear us. Some playful groping and chasing, a familiar routine from our youth, and we were unexpectedly interrupted.
Not one, but two girls, sleep-mussed, entered the poolroom without us noticing.
Sylvie announced her arrival with, “You’re swimming without us!” adding, “You’re naked!” in a louder voice.
Amanda, grinning, immediately shucked her pajamas and cotton panties. ”I want to swim nekkid, too!!” She ran and cannonballed into the water.
Sylvie, after a moment of shock at her sister, stripped her pajamas and panties off and followed, leaping in. Things might have been fine except Sylvie, rising to the surface in front of me and glancing down, exclaimed, “You’ve got a stiffie!” adding, “Can I touch it?”
It was yet another defining moment.
Embarrassed, I turned away. Lauren laughed at me. I had a mental flash: Lauren noticing my erection for the first time with exactly the same comment.
Behind me, Sylvie announced, “Mom says it’s natural for boys to get them.”
Amanda piped in with, “I want to see one!” and it was life repeating itself; déjà vu but now with two young girls.
Lauren laughed. “Let them see, Ryan. They know all about bodies and sex.”
Amanda immediately agreed. “I’ve got a vagina. That’s where a boy’s penis goes!”
“Everyone knows that!” Sylvie stated. “Turn, Dad. I want to see!”
One side effect of all the commotion and my shock was a decided deflating, for which I was thankful.
Sylvie swam around me and, after looking down, exclaimed, “It’s going soft! How come? Look, it’s small!”
“Lemme see!” Amanda yelled, swimming around to my front.
I wasn’t amused when Lauren started laughing, her eyes twinkling. I frowned at her and she only laughed harder.
Swimming over to me, she grabbed my hand and pulled me to the steps. “Come here. Sit.” The girls followed.
“You embarrassed him,” Lauren explained as we sat on the steps side-by-side, the girls standing chest high in water in front of us.
“How?” Sylvie asked, staring at my penis.
Lauren was clearly having too much fun at my expense.
Conversationally, with both girls listening with rapt attention, she said, “A man’s penis is a shy thing. It doesn’t like to be made fun of. When you do, it tries to retreat, like that, see?” She pointed at my groin.
“You have to be nice to it. Make it proud,” she said jokingly.
“How?” Amanda asked, peering at my shrunken member.
“Sometimes, kissing the guy can work,” Lauren said, her hand turning my face towards her, her eyes sparkling with pure amusement.
“Lauren . . .”
“Don’t be a fuddy-duddy, Ryan. This is the perfect way to educate the girls.” She smiled and kissed me, her lips pressing to mine.
“It’s not working,” Amanda announced.
Lauren laughed into my mouth and ended the kiss. “Arousal starts in the head. Kissing is intimate and usually works except when the guy’s too nervous.”
“Like Dad is,” Sylvie observed.
Lauren nodded. “Seduction is all about arousing the brain, make it imagine and desire you. Touching can . . .”
“Let me!” Amanda exclaimed, suddenly interrupting, her hand plunging into the water towards my groin.
Lauren brushed her hand aside. “Amanda! Never touch someone unless they want you to.”
Sylvie asked, “How do know when they want you to, Mom?”
“You touch and rub like this,” my sister informed them, her hand settling on my thigh. “This way, if he doesn’t want you to touch him he can move away. If he doesn’t, you let your hand move to the inside of his leg and caress it, like this.”
Lauren’s hand moved closer to my groin. Nerves and embarrassment kept me soft.
“It’s not working,” Sylvie observed, watching closely.
As Lauren’s hand almost touched me, she leaned close and whispered in my ear, “Look at Sylvie. Does she remind you of someone? See her small pussy? I was just like that.”
I looked at Sylvie’s pussy, a hairless peach, her cleft tightly closed, her mons full and lush on her young body, and the swell of her vulva between her legs. In her, I saw Lauren back at the lake as clear as day - a memory long cherished - and, God help me, an erection formed. I couldn’t stop it.
“Look!” Amanda exclaimed. “It’s growing.”
Lauren smiled and gently fondled me into full hardness.
Both girls’ eyes were locked on the sight. Sylvie asked, “What did you whisper to Dad?”
“Nothing much,” she answered with a light laugh. “Something to make his mind get over embarrassment.”
“It worked!” Sylvie said. “Can I feel it?”
“No,” I interjected.
“Of course you can,” Lauren said, ignoring me.
“Me, too!” Amanda demanded.
“Sylvie first,” my sister answered, smiling.
About to object strenuously, Lauren guided Sylvie’s hand and Sylvie wrapped her fingers around me so slowly, hesitantly, squeezing very carefully. I couldn't stop the warm pulse of pleasure that rushed in, her touch so arousing, nor how the sight of her small hand holding me, making me appear so large, excited me, my erection throbbing.
“You didn’t tell me it’s so big, Mom,” Sylvie said, squeezing me, testing my rigidity.
“My turn!” Amanda exclaimed.
Sylvie ignored her sister, saying, “Did you really have sex with Dad when you were ten? Didn’t it hurt?”
“Muuuummy! It’s my turn!” Amanda pleaded. “Daaaaddy, tell Mommy it’s my turn.”
Lauren smiled at Amanda. “In a minute. Be patient.” To Sylvie, she said, “He’s a bit bigger now, but, yes, we really had sex.”
Lord help me!
“Let go, Sylvie. It’s your sister’s turn.”
Sylvie gave my erection a final squeeze and let go, Amanda immediately reaching in. Her smaller hand wrapped around my shaft and tested it.
I throbbed at the sight of her thumb and fingertips not quite meeting, my girth too big. Then she used both hands, gripping my shaft tightly.
“It’s really big!” Amanda exclaimed. “Look! I need two hands to hold it!”
Pleasure hit, my erection straining.
“Okay. That’s enough,” I declared, easing Amanda’s hands off and closing my knees.
Neither girl seemed put out in the slightest, Sylvie immediately changing subject.
“Can we have breakfast now? I’m hungry.”
“Me too!” Amanda asserted.
They both walked up the steps and grabbed towels to dry, one saying, “Hurry up, Mom.”
I watched Lauren and the girls leave and sat, waiting for my erection to subside. It gave me time to think. Was I comfortable with this turn of events? No. Was I comfortable with my reaction to the girls touching me? No. Was I comfortable with Lauren’s ease and openness about sexual response and the body with Amanda and Sylvie? Surprisingly, yes. I just didn’t want to be the mannequin used for demonstrations. Why did I feel that way?
Shrugging, I left the pool and dried.
Nothing seemed different on Sunday. It was a day of rest, the weather mild - not warm, not cold, almost perfect.
I watched for any signs of a change in the girls and saw none. They were their usual self; absorbed with the television at breakfast, then playing together outside, an occasional disagreement resulting in loud shouts, and Lauren’s response, “Girls!” immediately followed by pleas of “But Muuumy!” or “Muuum!”
I set up my easel and painted. I’d found a style I liked; oil scenes of the girls playing in bucolic settings, capturing the sweet innocence of youth, happiness, smiles, or frowns of concentration. The two were so sharp in my mind I could paint them from memory. In a series of paintings, I’d captured Lauren and me back in the Everglades. They were my favorite paintings, steeped in memories I cherished.
And, throughout the day, I battled mild arousal and partial erections, visions of this morning popping into mind at the oddest times.
By the time we went to bed, I had sex in the forefront of my mind. As I brushed my teeth, Lauren wandered into the bathroom, chatting away. My attention wasn’t on the one-sided conversation. It was on Lauren and her lacy white bra that showed the shape of her breasts and her dark pink areolae and sexy nipples. It was on matching lacy panties that showed her amber pubic bush, so damn arousing, and the silky backside hiding her gorgeous ass, material hinting at her butt crack.
Lauren had moved into the master bedroom. Her stuff had expanded to displace mine. I didn’t care. The casual intimacy of sharing a bathroom pleased me. In my opinion, it strengthened our relationship.
In bed, partially erect and still aroused, I enjoyed watching Lauren emerge from the bathroom. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, shrugging it off. She was still talking to me and I wasn’t following her. I loved the way she draped her bra on the back of a chair and rubbed and scratched under her breasts; such a feminine act. I loved studying the way her delectable buttocks moved inside those silky panties as she moved to the dresser, fussing around at something; hand cream, perhaps. I really liked my sister’s body. She was intensely female, perfectly proportioned; mature breasts proud, slender hips, sexy flair of thighs, legs slender and shapely.
Still talking, Lauren slipped into bed. Feeling frisky, I drew her to me and kissed her, caressing her amazing ass. Silky panties slipped sensually over gorgeous buttocks. It excited me.
I love panties, all panties. To me, panties are sexy. When women wear them, they’re sexier than when naked. They’re an illicit glimpse of intimates when wind blows skirts up. For as long as I can remember, girls in panties fired my erotic imagination more than exposed breasts. Panties are suggestive and, with the stretch of material and subtle folds, they hint at the erotic shape of a woman’s most intimate place. The shadow of a pubic bush or a few pubic hairs escaping their elastic confinement could arouse me every time.
Kissing Lauren passionately, I groped and fondled her sexy panties, then eased my fingertips under the waist; another intensely arousing act - on the cusp of actually touching her bare buttocks.
The kiss ended with my hand cupping her buttock.
Lauren looked at me with a smile. “You’re randy tonight,” she observed.
“Very,” I confirmed, kissing her again, my fingertips following the valley of her buttocks down, lightly brushing past her anus to settle on her pussy. With tongues dueling, I traced her cleft and curled my fingertip to ease it into her cleft, soft labia hugging me, warmth and slickness welcoming me.
Lauren responded with a murmur, her hand reaching down, searching inside my boxers and grasping my erection, her thumb caressing the tip. Precum oozed. She spread it over the head sending shivers of pleasure through me, my cock aching and rigid.
With a soft squeeze, she let my erection go and pushed my boxers down. I did the same with her panties and, together, we kicked them off, returning to face each other, body pressed together, her soft stomach warm against my cock.
Need built. Rolling Lauren onto her back, I bent and took the tip of her breast into my mouth, sucking gently, teasing her nipple with my tongue. It responded, becoming taut. I reached down, brushed my fingertips through her sexy pubes, and probed lower, cupping her pussy, my middle finger curling to ease between her labia.
Lauren sighed, her fingers combing through my hair as I touched her clit, rubbing gently. My sister’s pussy was moist and slippery, aroused, warm and so exciting. Probing deeper, I penetrated her slightly, her vagina snug and hot. Drawing her moisture up, I caressed her clit.
I heard her quiet moan of pleasure and it intensified my desire. I loved how her body reacted, her horniness. Sucking my sister’s areolae, I teased her nipple, then gently bit it with my teeth, pulling slightly.
“God, Ryan,” she murmured, her hips moving against my hand.
With a gentle caress, strumming her clit, and my mouth on her beautiful breast, Lauren started moving; a rhythmic pelvic motion, murmurs of pleasure, breath deepening. Slowly, her hips moved faster, my finger strumming her clit. She groaned, her hands curling to grip my hair.
With a deep moan of pleasure, Lauren climaxed, hips surging, gasping, pussy scrubbing. Her body shook, muscles clenching, and gasped louder. Lauren writhed and gasped through her climax, her pleasure driving my need higher.
With a deep groan, she slowed, her body relaxing, small shudders passing, and I slowed and stopped, just cupping her pussy.
Finally, I kissed her gently, brushing my lips against hers. Lauren opened her eyes and smiled. Her hand settled on my erection giving me a sensual caress, a light stroke that made me throb and ache, my arousal so strong.
“Your turn,” she said with a smile, her intense sapphirine eyes twinkling.
Moving away, I said, “Turn over. I want you from behind,” and rose to my knees.
Lauren rolled onto her front.
For a moment, I paused to admire the sexy swell of her buttocks. Damn I loved her ass! Moving down, the sensual pear-shape came into its full glory; narrow waist and hips, flaring out around buttocks, slender thighs. She was so sexy!
Reaching under her waist, I lifted her onto her knees and elbows, her ass now heart-shaped, buttocks forming a sexy valley and, breathing harder, cock pulsing, her magnificent pussy emerged, framed by thighs and ass, amber pubes, her cleft visible and glistening with her arousal. Lauren’s pussy was gorgeous; so lush it was almost like a separate part of her.
On knees, with my erection jutting out, I moved closer, gripped my shaft, my body trembling with pent-up desire.
That first touch, the moment when my tip kissed her cleft, looked fantastic. I loved how large and thick my erection appeared and how Lauren’s labia oozed apart, her cleft spreading as I pressed.
With the familiar warm caress, my crown edged deeper, touching her entrance.
Holding her hips, staring at the erotic sight of penetrating my sister, I pushed; slippery warmth slowly spreading as the ridge of my crown disappeared to be hugged tightly.
Pleasure washed through me, my pulse racing. Withdrawing slightly, I pressed again, my erection sinking into her in an exquisite single stroke, cock pulsing. I loved the sensation of being buried so deeply in my sister’s body and loved the sight of her sexy ass pressed back at my groin, her rosebud showing. Easing out, shaft glistening, I reversed, thrusting a bit harder, pleasure growing. Lauren’s buttocks bounced against my groin. God she felt good!
As if driven by a desperate need, I fucked my sister, tugging her gorgeous ass back at me with each deep thrust, loving the pleasure of penetrating her, raw sex, selfish sex. The sight of her naked body in front of me, her slender waist, beautiful buttocks, and my erection thrusting, her pussy stretched, slowly brought tenseness to my body. Breathing harder, I felt the strain of an incipient orgasm, balls growing heavy, pressure in my groin, erection straining, thick and rigid.
Lauren started thrusting her ass back at me her buttocks slapping into my groin. Then she gasped, “Oh God yes. Fuck me, Ryan!”
Unable to stop myself, I climaxed, gasping, “Jesus Christ!” my cock swelling, swelling, and finally erupting, a blinding burst of pleasure, cum spurting. Another heave of my body, another hard thrust shoving Lauren’s body up, and semen jetted out with exquisite ecstasy, sweet release. Fucking my sister, I came again and again, each thrust, each pulse, each sweet spurt bringing bliss, cum flooding her. With a shudder, the peak of my orgasm passed, thrusts weakening, slowing, pulses of semen calming, until, panting, with no strengths left in my body, I stopped.
As we lay together, when my racing heart calmed, Lauren spoke.
“That was different. Pure sex. I liked it a lot.”
“It was a bit selfish of me,” I admitted, “but you made me so damn horny.”
Lauren played with the sparse hair on my chest, her leg casually across one of mine. “I think seeing the girls naked really turned you on.” With a smile, she added, “I should have let you see them naked a lot sooner.”
With a sigh of frustration, I looked at her, her sapphire eyes glowing in the soft bedside light. “It wasn’t the girls that turned me on, Lauren.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “It seems like it.” Almost casually she added, “I really don’t mind. Would you like me to shave my pubes?”
Easing away from her, I turned to face her.
“No, I don’t want you to shave your pubic hair. I love your pubes. I hate pubic stubble and ingrown hairs. There’s nothing sexy about it. I love you the way you are, a mature, sexy, confident woman. No one has ever been able to turn me on like you. Just by looking at me the way you do, with that seductive hint of a smile and eyes that speak volumes gets me going every time.
“It wasn’t the girls. Sylvie reminded me of you. In her, I saw you all those years ago and it brought back one of my most cherished memories. That’s what happened.”
After a brief silence, my sister staring deeply into my eyes as if reading me, she smiled. ”I believe you. But, you need to believe me, too. I wouldn’t mind if our girls turned you on.” In a quieter voice, she added, “In case you’ve forgotten, they turn me on, too.”
Before I could respond, Lauren continued.
“You said that was one of your most cherished memories. What are the others?”
Turning onto my back, Lauren cuddled to my side. “Aside from us at the lake, I remember how you used to sit on the ground as I churned ice cream, your eyes glittering with excitement, urging me to hurry and talking incessantly, and how you moaned with delight when I stole a spoonful for each of us without Mom seeing.
“I remember how achingly beautiful you were in the church getting married and how intensely jealous I was of Peter.
“I remember seeing you eight months pregnant and radiant, absolutely gorgeous, healthy and happier than ever at having a baby.
“More recently, I remember you coming out into your backyard late at night, with crickets singing their song, bugs whining, the soft yellow of the moon making the small backyard seem quaint, and how you wrapped your arms around me from behind and said, “Okay, Ryan, we’ll move in with you.”
“And I remember your kiss. I remember, after finding me sitting in the living room in the dark, how you kissed my cheek before heading back to bed and how much I loved it.”
Lauren smiled. “You’re such a romantic, Ryan.”
“No I’m not. It just so happens that all of my most cherished memories are of you.”
“You’re gooood,” she observed with a smile.
LAUREN WOKE WHEN SYLVIE sneaked under the covers early in the morning. The sun was still sleeping, as was Ryan, behind her.
She spooned her daughter, inhaled her wonderful sleepy aroma, brushed her tickling curls out of her face and fell asleep.
It seemed like only minutes had passed when Ryan rolled and spooned her. Smiling to herself, she felt his morning erection nestled between her buttocks. Memory of sex with him last night returned, her two climaxes, feeling his wonderful erection filling her.
Still naked from last night, with a stir of arousal, she gently squeezed his erection with her buttocks. Somehow, having Sylvie in her arms with her brother’s erection pressed to her ass excited her.
With subtle ass movements, she caressed his cock, smiling when she felt him respond; a small rub against her.
Almost languidly, she encouraged him, moving her butt, stroking him. When his hand settled on her hip, she squeezed him in a silent communication. The sun was still hiding, the room dark. In her arms, Sylvie slept peacefully.
She felt it. She felt the exact moment precum leaked; a silky, slippery sensation that excited her no end. Slowly, she moved in counterpoint to Ryan, his cock sliding up and down her butt crack. Her pussy throbbed. Reaching down, she found her clit and rubbed, pleasure arriving.
When Ryan’s hand left her hip, she turned her ass back, loving the feeling of his erection slipping down to press against her cleft.
Gentle thrusts, slow curls of her ass, and she felt that incredible sensation of his tip pressing into her cleft, her labia spreading, the tip nestling to her entrance. With slow, languid movements, Ryan’s erection stretched her, that wonderful feeling of anticipation and, with a quiet sigh, he penetrated her, her pussy stretched, so arousing. Fucking back at him gently, she loved how he filled her, penetrating her deeper and deeper. God she was horny and wet!
Seated completely inside her, his hand returned to her hip. She squeezed her pussy, then moved and the sexy dance of love started.
Sylvie, in her arms, added an illicit thrill to sex. Ryan didn’t know she was in bed with them, and that excited her. Very slowly, with long, exquisite strokes, his cock so wonderfully satisfying, while caressing her clit, the first tendrils of her climax announced themselves; pulse quickening, pussy tingling, warmth flowing into her.
On edge, she withdrew her hand and hugged her daughter tight, curling her ass back at Ryan, luxuriating in how good his erection felt. Her muscles tightened. She loved being fucked by her brother.
With her breasts pressed against Sylvie’s back and Ryan thrusting into her, filling her, stretching her beautifully, she fell into her climax, bliss suddenly washing over her, her pussy gently throbbing, tightening, gripping Ryan’s erection. Waves of soft ecstasy washed over her, her nipples sensitive, breasts feeling full and heavy. And, as her climax reached its peak, she felt Ryan. His cock swelled and pulsed. She felt the wetness of his semen inside her, hot, so exciting. With Ryan’s climaxing erection pulsing inside her, she came beautifully, warmth and peace arriving, sated, relaxed, happy. Hugging her daughter, inhaling her aroma, Lauren let herself drift off, Ryan's softening penis still inside her.
Monday was hectic. The girls had to get to school and, as usual, they couldn’t decide what to wear. Ryan was no help. He sat at the kitchen island counter grinning, thoroughly enjoying the confusion. Finally, ordering her brother to clean up the kitchen, she hustled the girls out to the car only fifteen minutes late.
Driving home, Lauren let her mind wander. She’d believed Ryan when he'd said it wasn't Sylvie that had turned him on. Yet, she wondered what he'd say if he knew Sylvie was in bed with them when they’d had sex the second time. Would it excite him as much as it had excited her?
She squirmed in the car seat, turning onto Huckleberry Lane and starting the climb. She could feel her brother’s semen where it dampened the pad she’d put in her panties this morning. Why had she hated the feeling with Peter, yet with her brother, she liked it?
Pulling into the drive, she parked behind Ryan's Toyota and entered the house. Breakfast dishes were still cluttering the counter. For all his strengths and good traits, Ryan had a weakness. He was easily distracted by something catching his fancy and whatever he was doing - or not doing, as in the case of breakfast dishes - was immediately forgotten.
She found him outside, painting, wearing a thick sweater to ward off the sudden cool late September temperatures that had arrived overnight, and shorts! Why shorts?
For a moment, she stood and admired him. Sitting on a dark wooden chair that matched the expansive wooden deck, he was absorbed in creating a background on the canvass. His sandy hair needed a cut rather badly and he hadn’t shaved. It made him very sexy, she thought.
Deciding not to disturb him, she went to clean the kitchen. Next, laundry.
Arms full of dirty clothes, she passed by his study and glanced in, just in case he’d dropped some item of clothes there.
His canvasses caught her attention. With life being so hectic over the last month or two, she'd never actually seen his paintings, except for the one he'd done of Amanda and Sylvie that now hung on the living room wall.
Intrigued, she dumped the dirty clothes in the laundry room, sorted, and started a load in the washer. Returning to his study, she browsed his paintings. There were eight of them.
In three, he'd painted the girls in innocent play, in motion, hair flying, and somehow managed to capture the wonderful innocence and joy of happy girls. Lauren smiled. They'd never looked like that in Florida.
The fourth was a perfect rendition of the Everglades house. She could see the sweltering heat shimmering, intense sun, the ramshackle house with Mom’s vegetable garden, and at the back, the edge of the chicken coop.
What caught her attention was Ryan sitting on the bottom step of the back door, an ice cream churn between his knees, and her, Lauren, sitting on the ground looking up at him.
Ryan was smiling at her. But he'd captured her own expression in a way she never known; her long amber hair falling to the base of her back fluffed by a breeze, her sharp blue eyes intense and bright, a finger pointing, her smile, and, moving her deeply, utter adoration in her expression. She saw herself as she'd never seen before, and Ryan had captured the feeling she’d had perfectly. How could he after so long?
The fifth painting was of them both from behind, waiting at the side of the dusty road waiting for the school bus, her hand in his. The road looked long and lonely, sun intense. Tarmac shimmered in the heat. It portrayed the isolation of their childhood so well.
The sixth was of her wedding. She saw herself in her wedding gown at the altar, the perspective taken from the back of the small church. This painting made her shiver and wrap her arms around her body. Ryan had captured her perfectly again; in fact, more than perfectly. She didn't believe she had looked so beautiful at the time. But, somehow, despite Peter’s smile, Ryan showed the darkness inside him. She could see a gleam of ownership in Peter’s face, tinged with meanness she’d not seen at the time. Interestingly, Mom was represented beautifully, but Dad only shown with his back to the viewer.
How could Ryan remember with such clarity? Did he have any idea how talented he was?
Lauren turned to the seventh painting and shuddered. An horrific scene of slaughter and destruction; smoke almost palpable shrouding parts of the image, buildings crumbled, rebar and concrete exposed. Burnt shells of cars were littered around, flames flickering, and everywhere people were rushing, healthy helping the bloodied and injured, men and women with expressions of horror, and making her heart clench, children, dazed and bleeding, crying and stumbling around in confusion. Tears welled in Lauren's eyes. Is this what he'd spent years photographing? How had he kept his sanity?
She quickly moved to the last painting.
It took her breath away. In it, the lake was exactly as she remembered; small, trees and bushes crowding the edges, tall, broad cypress trees here and there. But, under the shade of the cypress, both she and Ryan were naked. Ryan was stretched out on his back with one arm under his head. She was depicted sitting up, one knee on the ground, the other bent with her arm resting on it, her pussy clearly shown in perfect detail. They were both laughing. A brown paper bag sat between them, the top folded closed; lunch.
Ryan had somehow made their nakedness beautiful. It was detailed and explicit, nothing hidden. For the first time she saw the expression in her brother’s face as he looked at her - adoration and love, with a smile that touched her heart. She saw her own expression - grinning with two incisors missing, her eyes bright and playful. This painting brought tears to her eyes again. She understood him now when he’d told her that he’d loved her way back then. It was so clear in his face. Why hadn't she understood then? Why hadn't she waited for him?
Yet, if she had, Lauren realized she wouldn't have Amanda and Sylvie. Still, it was a powerful painting.
Putting the paintings back, she returned to her chores. She was going to show the girls those paintings. She wanted them to see how Ryan saw them and, yes, even show them the one of her and her brother naked.
Lauren was pleasantly surprised at how excited she felt. When she picked her daughters up from elementary school, she told them about Ryan’s paintings, both girls full of questions. At home, with Ryan puttering around in the garage, she took the girls to the study and showed them; first the paintings of both girls.
Amanda grinned. “That’s me!” she exclaimed pointing.
Sylvie immediately responded, “Well, duh!”
As Lauren showed them how pretty they were, how Ryan saw them, both girls responded with smiles of delight.
Being careful to avoid the painting of destruction, she showed them the paintings of her and Ryan as kids. Those fascinated the girls. They were full of questions, “What was it like growing up there?” “Can we make our own ice cream?” “You were so beautiful, Mom!”
And then came the painting of her and Ryan nude. Up to now, she’d explained that she and Ryan had had sex when she was young, and how she loved her brother, but no details had been given. The painting opened a flood of comments and questions:
“You look as young as me!” Sylvie observed. “Were you really ten?”
Amanda giggled. “Look how small Daddy’s penis is!”
And then the questions turned to sex: “What did it feel like?” Did it hurt?” “How many times did you do it?” “Did you like it?” “Why did you have sex with Dad?”
Lauren patiently answered each and every question. Both girls paid rapt attention, occasionally giggling, sometimes laughing, but always attentive. And through it, Lauren found herself becoming mildly aroused, the memories so strong and wonderful.
Preparing dinner later, she watched Ryan with the girls, a sight she’d never tire of. Each sat to his side watching television, his arms around their shoulders. He laughed with them and joked but, she also noticed how he answered their questions, treating them like adults, not kids.
She also noticed something that made her smile. At one point, Sylvie rested her hand on his thigh. Keeping an eye out as she prepared carrots, she noticed her daughter’s hand slip to the inside in an intimate move. Sylvie was testing! What would her brother do?
For a while, nothing. Then Amanda noticed Sylvie’s hand and imitated her, placing her hand on Ryan’s other thigh. As if on cue, both caressed exactly as they’d seen Lauren do, edging their hands higher and higher towards his crotch. Lauren found it exciting and erotic; her daughters’ first foray into the intimate. But, just before their hands reached his crotch, he removed them and excused himself to go to the bathroom. What a shame. Had Ryan become aroused? Horny? Excited by the touch of two adventurous and exploring young girls?
She found out later that night.
When kissing Sylvie goodnight in her bedroom, her daughter whispered, “Dad got an erection tonight when I rubbed his leg.”
“I saw,” Lauren said with a soft smile. “Is that what you wanted to happen?”
Sylvie nodded. “I touched his leg like you showed us.” With blue eyes sparkling, she added, “I didn’t think it would be so exciting!”
“It is, isn’t it.” Bending, Lauren kissed her daughter again. “Sweet dreams,” she whispered.
Amanda was sound asleep. She kissed her daughter’s forehead and returned to the living room, now excited herself. That night, Ryan was enthusiastic and energetic in bed. She climaxed twice and drifted into a relaxed sleep, wondering if she should discuss it with him.
For the next several days, with both girls playing their subtle game with him, Lauren had more sex than she’d ever had, soft and loving, hard and exhausting, all deeply satisfying. And every night her daughters whispered to her when she went to kiss them goodnight, full of questions and suggestions.
I STRUGGLED YET AGAIN as Amanda and Sylvie sat at my side. Friday night was in full swing. Behind me, the aroma of roasted chicken filled the air and made my mouth water. In my hand I held a glass of ice cold Chardonnay from Sonoma - I now limited my alcohol consumption to the weekends only.
And two small hands subtly caressed my thighs, very slowly moving higher. The girls had been at it for several days, and each time, despite trying not to, I’d get aroused and take it out on Lauren at night. I didn’t want to respond to their touch. I didn’t want to face what that said about me, what it revealed about my sexuality; what I was trying so hard to deny: that I was aroused by their youth.
Amanda’s and Sylvie’s hands touching me was a completely different experience than Lauren touching me. It was seeing their small hands on my thighs caressing me intimately and deliberately that stirred my blood. And I didn’t want it to!
When Lauren called out that dinner was ready, I sighed with relief. I’d almost had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom and wait until I was presentable again.
Yet, despite their actions, in their faces I could see nothing untoward. They were happy, vociferous, laughing and giggling as they always were; no sign of teasing or subterfuge, no blushing or shyness, just sweet innocence personified.
Lauren, returning from putting the girls to bed, sat next to me, reached for her half empty glass of wine, sipped and leaned against my side. Her free hand dropped to my thigh possessively. Should I tell her what her daughters were doing? Probably. I turned the television off.
“I was taking to Madeleine yesterday,” Lauren casually mentioned.
“She owns the gallery off Oak Street.”
“I don’t know her,” I said.
Lauren rubbed my thigh, her hand slipping to the inside. “I showed her some of your paintings. She wants to exhibit them.”
“Huh? You saw my paintings?” I asked, astonished. It wasn’t that I was hiding anything, but my sister had never demonstrated any curiosity in them.
She looked up at me and smiled. “They’re incredible. Madeleine agrees. She thinks they’ll sell for a good price.”
Worry hit me. “Did you show her all the paintings?”
Lauren laughed lightly. “No. There’s one there that will never be exhibited. You know the one.”
“I showed them to the girls, too. They loved them.”
“All of the paintings?” I asked again.
“No. Not all.”
My relief was short lived.
Lauren continued, “I didn’t show them the one of the bombing. But all the others, yes.”
“Even the one of us at the lake?”
Lauren nodded, smiling gently. “They had a lot of questions after seeing that one.”
“Why? I thought you told them everything,” I reminded her.
“I told them we’d had sex, yes. But I hadn’t given them details.” With a final sip, she drained her glass. “Let’s go to bed.”
It was earlier than we usually retired. Maybe I should have known something was up. However, in fairness, a bit of alcohol had lowered my observational skills and I was relaxed. That, or Lauren was too subtle for me.
In the bedroom, Lauren turned and pressed herself against me, rising on tiptoes to kiss me. Soft lips brushed against mine and then pressed. She murmured quietly and her hand rubbed my crotch, an erection forming.
When the kiss ended, she smiled. “You get undressed and into bed, and I mean undressed, Ryan. Do you need the bathroom before I use it?”
“Nope.” Even if I had, it wouldn’t be possible now, not with my condition below.
Five minutes later she emerged and, standing by the bed, started undressing. Watching a woman undress is a real pleasure. They don’t tug clothes off and toss. The blouse is gently pulled out of jeans and buttons are opened one at a time while sandals are eased off each foot.
“Did I mention I’m horny?” Lauren asked, easing the blouse off her shoulders and carefully draping it over the back of a chair. Unbuttoning her jeans, she turned away from me and pushed them down, moving her butt to ease them over her buttocks revealing lacy lavender boyshort style panties that matched her bra.
Bending, she pushed the jeans down, her ass gaining a magnificent shape, her sexy pussy pressing out from behind. Then, straightening, she carefully folded her jeans and draped them over the seat of the chair.
She was smiling when she turned to face me. The demi-cup bra left the tops of her creamy breasts exposed and through the lace I could see her dark pink nipples. Below, her pubic bush was shadowed underneath lacy panties, a silky gusset forming to her vulva.
Unsurprisingly, my erection strained up off my stomach. Lauren turned me on like no one I’d ever known.
With deep blue eyes sparkling with excitement, she drew the bed covers down, exposing me. Crawling onto the bed, she sat on her heels at my side, casually reaching out to fondle me.
Bending, Lauren kissed me gently. “Just relax,” she whispered, her hand stroking my shaft.
Rising again, she said loudly, “Okay, girls.”
Shocking me, Amanda and Sylvie raced into the bedroom and jumped on the bed.
“What . . .?”
Lauren smiled. “Relax. They’ve seen your erection before.”
“But . . .”
“Ryan, relax. They want to see what it’s like when a man climaxes.”
“No!” My heart raced. I experienced a strange combination of embarrassment and excitement, embarrassment edging out excitement. Perhaps it was a self-protective instinct. Seeing me with an erection was one thing; a physiological aspect of a male body. But seeing me ejaculate, seeing their mother bringing me off, was firmly into questionable territory.
It was a defining moment in my life.
“I’m not sure it’s appropriate,” I tried to reason, still hard.
She smiled at me, once again stroking my shaft. With a squeeze, she added, “The girls want to know. What harm is there?”
One last piece of resistance in me fled when Lauren, in front of her observant daughters, bent and took my erection into her mouth.
I groaned at the sensation of her warm, moist mouth surrounding my crown and the gentle caress of her tongue. It felt wonderful. Arousal displaced embarrassment and in its place, a thrill emerged; the thrill of seeing Amanda and Sylvie watching their mother give me head. It was outrageous!
Then I really fell. Lauren, opening her mouth wider, eased down my shaft. The tip of my erection touched the back of her mouth and didn’t stop! Slowly, my sister deep throated me, an experience like I’d never had. Her lips brushed against my pubic hair. She’d taken me entirely! Every last inch! Jesus!
Easing back, I felt her throat massaging me, then releasing me, her warm mouth sucking the crown gently before backing off further, ending by kissing the tip. I was hard, as in rigidly hard, thick and straining. I’d been given oral sex before but never been deep-throated, and God it was amazing!
Lauren, with a twinkle in her eyes, asked, “How did that feel?”
I managed a grunt that made her and the girls laugh. Then Lauren took me in again, first her mouth, then, parting her lips, her tongue rubbing against my shaft, she deep-throated me again. This time, she eased back up until just my crown was in her mouth and reversed, taking all of me.
She did it again and again, fucking me with her mouth and throat, my erection straining. I forgot about the girls. My attention was riveted on the sight of my sister; so freaking erotic!
When her hand fondled my balls, I groaned again, a wash of pleasure hitting me. My pulse raced, cock swelling and throbbing, the shaft glistening with her saliva then disappearing. My hips twitched up at the pleasure, thrusting my cock deep into her mouth. Lauren, without changing pace, fucked me with her mouth, then started stroking my shaft when it emerged before her mouth plunged down again. In my groin, my orgasm stirred awake. I was too turned on by far, erection aching it was so stiff, looking so large where it penetrated her mouth. And, out of the blue, I came, uncontrollably, cock swelling, semen released and racing up my shaft. In a burst of blinding pleasure, I erupted deep in Lauren’s throat before I could warn her. I felt her swallow, her throat tightening, before she pulled her mouth off and stroked my shaft. Another achingly pleasurable pulse tore through me, thick semen launching up into the air to splatter down on her fist. Gasping for air, as my sister stroked my pulsing cock, I came, semen erupting, erection swelling, the head straining and inflamed. I heaved and spurted covering her fist in white cum and finally the aching pulses weakened, slowed, semen leaking in a final wave of ecstasy.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!
Finally, I noticed Sylvie and Amanda. Both, sitting on the bed, were staring, eyes wide.
“That’s what happens when a man climaxes,” Lauren informed them. “Here. Feel it,” she offered, extending her semen-covered hand to them.
Sylvie reached out and touched it, rubbing it between her fingers. After watching her sister, Amanda did the same.
“It’s almost hot, Mom,” Sylvie observed, then sniffed it. “And smells weird, too, like the swimming pool.”
Lauren smiled. “It’s perfectly natural. You get used to it.”
Amanda, after sniffing it, said, “You put Daddy’s penis in your mouth!”
Lauren laughed lightly. “It feels good for both of us. I think your father liked it.”
That shook me. It was the first time Lauren had referred to me as their father and man, did I like it! Somehow it brought home we were truly a family, Sylvie and Amanda truly my daughters.
“Sylvie, go get a washcloth,” Lauren asked.
Sylvie scrambled off the bed and ran to the bathroom.
While running water sounded, Lauren turned to me, smiling. “How was it?”
“Amazing,” I assured her. “That’s the first time I’ve experienced being taken in all the way.”
“It’s the first time I’ve ever done it,” she informed me. With a twinkle in her eyes, she added, “I practiced with a dildo.”
Before I could comment on her having a dildo I’d never seen, Sylvie returned. Lauren cleaned cum off me and my softened penis. She leaned over me and gave me a soft kiss. “It’s unfortunate you’re so drained. I’m still horny.”
“Maybe I could return the favor,” I suggested.
“That would be nice. Amanda, Sylvie, bed time,” she announced.
“But Mommy!” Amanda immediately protested, as she usually did.
Lauren frowned. “Remember what we talked about. Don’t make me change my mind.”
Amanda, frowning, grumbled, “Fine!” She moved up and kissed me on my cheek, still frowning. “Night, Daddy.”
Without kissing her mother, she flopped off the bed and left.
Sylvie gave me a shy smile, kissed my cheek, “Night, Dad,” and kissed her mother before leaving.
I was confused. “What did you talk about with them?” I asked.
Lauren looked at me and with a grin, informed me, “You’ll find out soon enough.”
With post-orgasmic sanity returning, I told my sister, “Lauren, I’m not sure this is appropriate. They’re just kids. It’s too early for them to learn about this stuff.”
Lauren studied me. “There’s nothing more dangerous than bringing up children in ignorance, Ryan. Despite what the religious right might claim, ignorance is not bliss. Ignorance leads to teenage pregnancy and STD’s and shame about one’s body which hurts in the long run.”
She smiled softly. “Ryan, if they hadn’t expressed inquisitiveness in sex I wouldn’t have exposed them to anything. But the fact is, they have questions. Part of it is my fault. They’ve grown used to some sexy cuddling with me. To them, it’s perfectly normal. They know it’s something private between themselves and me; something no one else should ever be told about. Now they have questions about the male body.
“I’m not going to shield them from knowledge. I never have and won’t start now.” Bending over to kiss me softly, she added in a quiet voice, “You can’t say they’re too young. I was ten, remember? Besides, be honest. You’re as aroused by this as I am.”
And there was the truth. It was that simple. Having both young girls on the bed while my sister gave me head had intensified my pleasure. If it was a family thing, just us, maybe I should relax about it. Picturing Sylvie’s and Amanda’s expressions, it was obvious they were intrigued and excited; no shame or shock.
“Okay. As long as they aren’t hurt or coerced in any way.”
That night, with my conscience alleviated, I ate my sister’s pussy until she begged me to stop two orgasms later.
Life in the Collier household had changed.
In almost every way, everything was normal. The girls flourished in school and behaved perfectly normally. They played together and argued sometimes, always taking their grievances to Lauren for arbitration.
However, I grew closer to them. They started appealing their mother’s rulings to me, begging me to see their side and, too many times, completely charmed by them, I overruled Lauren only to be scolded, my sister’s sapphire eyes gemstone hard, the girls delighted and giggling at me being scolded by their mother.
Intimacy evolved, too. No longer uncomfortable with their cute advances and relaxed in my acceptance, I enjoyed their subtle touches on my thighs, never quite reaching my groin but getting very close and stirring a response every time.
And then came kisses. And kisses changed everything - absolutely everything!
There are degrees of kissing. Kisses are expressive, perhaps the most expressive physical act. From a peck on the cheek in greeting that expresses politeness, to a lingering kiss on a cheek expressing affection, to a brush of lips full of promises, to full sensual kisses expressing desire and passion, kisses are multifaceted.
Lauren, showing her increasing comfort with our relationship, started kissing me passionately when she’d see me do something with the girls; joke and wrestle, hug, or spend time helping them with their hobbies. It seemed that my affection for Amanda and Sylvie turned my sister on.
And, every time my sister eased up to me, wrapping her arms around me, pressing herself to me and kissed me passionately, four observant eyes watched.
Sylvie was the first to experiment. Her kiss goodnight missed my cheek, deliberately. She kissed me on my mouth, her lips closed, pressing, azure blue eyes twinkling. Amanda, ever observant, imitated her sister the next night. And from there, it became normal.
I enjoyed it. I liked the closer intimacy and their obvious pleasure. But once, just once, I made a mistake.
When Sylvie kissed me goodnight, standing between my legs as I sat on the couch, I made the mistake of hugging her, too. It brought back a flood of memories of holding my sister way back when, how much I’d liked her slender, petite physique, and how exciting it had been to hold a girl in my arms. And for the first time, that one kiss with Sylvie aroused me. It was a game changer.
No slouch, Amanda imitated her sister and once again, I was aroused, and my sister knew it. With a soft, knowing smile, she enjoyed watching me kiss her daughters. When they went to bed, Lauren, sitting at my side, casually touched me and caressed my erection.
In four words, she communicated so much. “Finally. I’m so glad.”
Our lovemaking that night was passionate and vigorous, both of us turned on by the illicit attraction of the girls.
The very next night, when Sylvie approached for her goodnight kiss, Lauren let out one of her enigmatic comments. “Remember what we practiced, Sylvie.”
Sylvie giggled and nodded, grinning at me as she moved between my knees.
“Night, Dad,” she said, her eyes sparkling epithet excitement.
When I hugged her and kissed her, a small tongue brushed my lips and retreated, and I reacted, arousal flowing through me. She giggled, pulling away from me.
“My turn!” Amanda announced, jumping up from the couch.
Amanda, even smaller in my arms, her pale honey eyes twinkling, kissed me, the tip of her tongue touching my lips, and giggled while still kissing me. I was fully aroused. I couldn’t help it. I loved it.
Once again, in bed with Lauren, I took my arousal out on her, so horny she never made it into bed. I bent her over the side, tugged her panties down, and took her, fucking her from behind, my sister laughing at my urgency.
We were sliding towards ever greater intimacy and I was a willing, even eager participant, excited by the possibilities.
Then life changed, suddenly and dramatically, and for the worse.
It started with a call mid-afternoon on Thursday, October 20th. My cell warbled - Lauren calling.
“Lauren?” I answered.
“Did you pick Sylvie up?” my sister asked, her tone intense, tight.
“No. Aren’t you picking the kids up?” I asked, a tingle of concern rising in me.
“I am. I’m here at school with Amanda, but Sylvie hasn’t shown up.”
“Ask the school. Maybe she’s still in a classroom,” I suggested.
“Lauren, call me back when you find her,” I ordered her.
Painting was forgotten, worry taking precedence. Why would Sylvie be late? I waited for Lauren to call, standing and pacing with restless impatience.
Fifteen minutes later, my world fell apart.
Lauren called, panic in her voice. “She’s gone, Ryan! She’s not in school! No one knows where she is! Oh God! What should I do?”
Racing out of the study, I yelled into the cell phone, “Call the police! I’m on my way. We’ll find her, Lauren. I promise!”
The drive to school was a wild ride, speeding recklessly, my heart racing, and every ugly, evil thought passed through my mind. I arrived to find two police cruisers parked in front of the school, lights flashing. It only scared me more. A group of parents and teachers were milling around on the sidewalk, Lauren holding Amanda’s hand tightly as she talked to a police officer.
She saw me and burst into tears, her sapphirine eyes full of fear and anguish.
“Ryan! Sylvie’s been taken! My little girl’s been taken!”
Running to her, I wrapped her in my arms, Lauren completely losing it, sobbing and clinging to me.
I looked at one of the officers, watching him talk on his radio. He noticed me and, when finished, approached.
“Mr. Collier, we’ve issued an amber alert. One of the students saw Sylvie being pushed into the back of a white Ford van.” He pointed towards houses lining the other side of the road. “We’ve set up roadblocks on the seven roads leading out of town. Officers will start a sweep inwards.”
Panic demanded action. I needed to do something, anything. “I’ll go out and join them,” I said.
“Yes! Go!” Lauren urged. “I’ll go, too!”
The officer, Sergeant Kipling, his expression serious, disagreed. “I know you want to help, but you need to leave it to us. We’d like the three of you to come down to the station. You’ll be kept informed there.”
Fifteen minutes later, Lauren, Amanda, and I were sitting on hard red plastic chairs in the police station. Lauren held a silent, confused Amanda tightly, my sister’s eyes full of anguish, her face so pale and gaunt.
For almost five hours we lived in Hell, waiting, officers giving us constant updates, the radio crackling, and I felt useless and powerless and terrified. It was an endless, excruciating wait, my mind unable to escape horrifying thoughts; sweet Sylvie scared and alone, some monster abusing her, God, my daughter hurt and crying out for our help!
I couldn’t think straight, my gut churning, and pulled Lauren close, my arm around her shoulder. I was utterly terrified, frozen in a nowhere land, unable to think clearly. Time crawled as my world crumbled into dust, the people I most loved, my family, suffering. I felt like crying and raging and screaming.
Then the radio crackled. Officer Kipling listened and looked up at us. “We’ve found her. She’s okay.”
Relief swamped me. Lauren burst into tears, sobbing.
Officer Kipling came over and sat next to me, a large, burly man exuding reassurance. “A casual laborer gardening at the Mitchell’s house across from the school abducted her; John Tilman.”
Worry now hounded me. Despite telling us Sylvie was all right, I couldn’t stop imagining what John Tilman had done to her in the hours he’d had her. My brain plumbed the depths of depravity and I saw Sylvie's fear and pain. I saw her crying out for us, to be saved, and felt her terror. My body hurt, gut tight, anger growing.
Then the glass doors opened and a police officer escorted a disheveled Sylvie in. Seeing her mother, Sylvie burst into tears and ran to Lauren, her mother and Amanda welcoming her with tears and open arms and tight, tight hugs.
Relief flooded me. About to join them, the double glass doors swung open again, two officers guiding a cuffed John Tilman in by the arms. Mid-thirties, dark hair, and grubby, I saw him look at Lauren and Sylvie. A smirk formed.
Rage erupted. Launching myself out of the seat, I brushed the officers’ warning hands aside and slammed my fist into that smirk. His lip split. Dark, soulless eyes turned to me, the smirk still there. I hit him again with everything I had, his eyebrow splitting and spurting blood. His head rocked back from the force, both officers losing their grip on his arms. Tilman tumbled backwards, falling to the floor, and I followed him down, straddling his body, smashing my fist into his face again and again trying to erase that smirk. Rage drove me, red, raw. I wanted to kill the fucker. His eye swelled closed. Blood covered his face and still I hit him.
Arms grabbed me and pulled me off.
“Alright, calm down Mr. Collier,” one officer said.
My whole body shook as I stared down at John Tilman, unconscious on the floor. I wanted the fucker dead. DEAD!
LAUREN STOOD ROCK STILL, shocked at her brother. He’d erupted from the seat and assaulted Tilman with brutal force. His violence was so contrary to the kind and gentle man she knew him to be. She’d watched her brother beat Tilman to a pulp and noticed how slow the officers were to respond, as if they approved and were letting him.
When they pulled Ryan off Tilman and he turned, she saw rage, his brown eyes flashing, hard, unfocused, expression almost vicious. His eyes regained focus and settled on her and the girls. Rage was displaced by anger, anger displaced by worry. His eyes glistened suddenly and he came to them, wrapping his arms around all of them. Against her, she could feel his body shaking.
Officers took Tilman away, carrying him by the armpits. Still stunned by Ryan, Lauren let another officer lead them to an interview room. With half an ear she listened to the officer gently question Sylvie, heard how Tilman had grabbed her as she waited outside the school gates, a cloth smothering her mouth, the stink of chemicals. She listened to her daughter tell how she tried to kick and scream, how she passed out and woke up in the back of the van, arms and ankles taped together, gagged by a dirty cloth.
Sylvie burst into tears and cried, “I’m sorry, Mom! I couldn’t stop him!” It shook Lauren out of her stupor. She hugged her daughter, calmed her, and kept an eye on Ryan. He looked devastated.
That night, as she prepared a simple dinner, Ryan sat holding the girls tight to his side. Amanda was an inquisitor, asking a constant stream of questions. Surprising Lauren, Sylvie answered her sister’s questions. But Ryan said nothing, no questions, no joining the conversation.
For the next two weeks, Lauren took her daughter to see a child psychologist. Eight sessions in, Alice Wilson, a late middle-aged woman with a soft voice and friendly face, informed Lauren that, much to her surprise, Sylvie seemed perfectly recovered. She’d passed the fear stage, now expressing anger at John Tilman and annoyance at how she hadn’t been able to stop him. Alice commented that Sylvie was no longer exhibiting any post-traumatic stress, crediting Lauren and Ryan for Sylvie’s rapid recovery.
But things weren’t fine. Lauren became increasingly concerned with her brother.
Almost three weeks after the abduction, Ryan had made love to her only once. The second time she tried, he lost his erection. Her suggestive advances had no impact. He spent more time alone painting, and when she saw the paintings her concern deepened. They were dark, ominous depictions of death and destruction. Shadowed men brandishing rifles and machine guns oozing evil, gripping struggling young girls in their hands, the distinctive logo of ISIS on their black uniforms, and women and children torn and bleeding and screaming.
She tried to get Ryan to talk, only to be brushed aside with a curt shake of his head, “I’m fine, Lauren. Just give me space.”
He interacted with her and the girls but his smile never reached his eyes. He didn’t laugh. In his soft brown eyes she saw shadows that worried her. Just when her life had found balance and happiness and excitement, and her daughters we're flourishing, it was all slipping through her fingers; like she was on the cusp of losing everything.
She had to get Ryan to talk. She thought she knew what was bothering him; the helpless feeling he must have from being unable to protect Sylvie, and fear he might not be able to prevent a repeat in the future.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
Late one evening, after the girls had gone to bed, she plied Ryan with white wine, sitting in silence together, the television off, leaning against him, her head on his shoulder. A fire crackled casting off warmth and soft light.
His arm reached over to settle on her shoulder. When he drained the last of the wine, Lauren leaned forward and poured her full glass into his. Eventually, girding herself, she spoke.
“Ryan, I need to know what’s going on. Even Sylvie and Amanda are asking questions. They’re worried they’ve done something to upset you. They can’t handle losing another father. Please talk to me.”
Tension mounting in her with each passing moment of silence, she breathed a sigh of relief when her brother finally talked.
“I’m him,” Ryan said, almost in a whisper. “I’m John Tilman.”
Of all the things Lauren had anticipated, that wasn’t one. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m just as bad as he is. I’ve been taking advantage of Amanda and Sylvie. I took advantage of you years ago. I’m him.”
Glancing up, she saw devastation in his expression. He was serious! “Are you crazy?” she asked. “You’re nothing like that man!”
“I’m everything like him,” Ryan whispered.
Anger made Lauren speak sharply. “Did he love Sylvie? No! Did Sylvie love him? No! Have you ever, ever done something against their wills? No! You’re nothing like him, Ryan!
“The girls love you,” she told him. “They adore you. Everything you and I have done with them has been at their instigation. Think about it.”
“I have. I can’t stop thinking about it,” Ryan answered.
“I can’t believe you think so little of me,” Lauren responded angrily. “I can’t believe you’d think for a minute that I would let you take advantage of our girls. You know damn well I wouldn’t!”
“I know. But I can’t reconcile my feelings towards them and can’t separate them from the sort of person John Tilman is.”
“And emotional distance is your solution? Worrying both me and our girls is your solution?” In a softer voice, Lauren said, “You’re not the same, Ryan. It’s not in you to be the same as Tilman.”
Late at night, after her brother had fallen asleep, Lauren lay awake wrestling with the problem. She needed to help him and she needed him back, all the way. Amanda and Sylvie needed him back, too. Now knowing what the problem was, she planned. Tomorrow morning she would have a chat with Sylvie and Amanda. She’d rope them into helping.
WITH A YAWN, STRETCHING, I opened my eyes to daylight muted by pregnant cloud cover; precipitation was promised. Maybe we’d get our first snowfall of the season. Ski resorts were worried; global warming was playing havoc with weather patterns.
A giggle floated in through the open bedroom door. I recognized Amanda’s sound. Laughter burst out, then faded away.
I was exhausted, my usual condition over the past few weeks. Rolling out of bed, I hit the shower to wake myself fully. An ending douse of icy water did the trick, making me shiver.
Dressed, I followed the scent of coffee. Lauren and the girls had their heads close together over the kitchen island counter. Lauren, spotting me, straightened and smiled.
“Morning. You look awful,” she observed.
“Yeah, Daddy. You look terrible!” Amanda concurred, nodding seriously.
Sylvie just studied me with her azure eyes, her uncontrollable curls escaping the scrunchie trying to hold it all back at the nape of her neck.
I yawned again and reached for the mug of coffee held out for me by my sister, inhaled the aroma, sighed, and sipped, burning my tongue. Checking the wall clock, I asked, “What happened to school?”
Amanda grinned, a couple of missing teeth making her look impish. “We’re playing hooky!” she exclaimed.
Looking at Lauren, she smiled and nodded. “Snow’s in the forecast. Supposed to be our first winter storm. We’re going to get cozy. You’re going to start a fire and turn the heat up in the pool. We’re going to play games and, if it snows enough, we’re going outside and have fun. Not one stroke of work today.”
With a smile, I nodded my approval. Sylvie just studied me. Odd.
“Okay girls. Time to dress for the day while I clean up breakfast dishes,” Lauren announced.
Both jumped off their stools and dashed towards their bedrooms.
“What’s up?” I asked.
Lauren smiled lightly and walked around the counter. She kissed my cheek softly. “I thought a day of rest and the excitement of skipping school would be good for all of us. We need it.”
Nodding, I moved to do the dishes. In easy comfort, I washed, Lauren dried. As we finished and I poured myself a second cup of coffee, Amanda ran in, dressed in a frilly pale pink skirt, matching socks, no shoes, and a pale pink and green cotton top. Behind her, Sylvie walked in wearing a short yellow dress cinched at the waist, spaghetti straps, and barefoot.
“Nice summer outfits,” I observed.
“They chose them themselves,” my sister informed me.
“Suitable for snow,” I commented, heading over to the fireplace to start a fire.
“Let’s play Go Fish!” Amanda enthused.
“Nuh-uh,” Sylvie countered. “Let’s play Crazy Eights!”
“I don’t want to! I wanna play . . .”
Lauren cut Amanda off. “We’ll play both.”
Somehow, sitting on the floor at the coffee table, the hours flew by. Both girls yelled, accused each other of cheating, laughed, and giggled every time they beat Lauren and me. They leaned over the coffee table on knees reaching across to point to some card or mess each other’s piles, or flop back on the ground laughing hard.
Each time, I was presented with small bottoms encased in cotton panties; matching summery yellow on Sylvie, and pale pink on Amanda. And each time I stared and admired the naughty peek.
Somehow, the girls found reasons to kiss my cheek, or sit in my lap when playing, and I’d be assaulted by their youthful scent and the pleasure of holding them.
The snow started just before lunch. Big fluffy flakes arrived, melting on contact with the ground. It brought huge excitement to two girls who had never actually experienced real snow before. They insisted on going outside.
In down jackets, still in short skirts, with Wellington boots on, they raced around chasing flakes. Sylvie tried to catch them in her mouth, yelling, “Dad, look!” turning and twisting so furiously she got dizzy and fell to the ground, her younger sister making fun of her. When challenged by Sylvie, Amanda tried, only to reel and fall. A new game had been discovered.
I smiled at their pure joy. It was beautiful to see.
“They’re having a riot,” Lauren observed.
I nodded, still entranced by their innocent joy.
“They’re competing for your attention,” Lauren added.
Lauren smiled softly and shook her head. “You can be a real idiot at times, Ryan. They love you and you’ve been distant for so long. Look at you. You’re actually smiling. They see it.”
Without me even being aware of it, I was! A true smile, not the forced smiles I’d been giving before.
A sudden gust of wind blew skirts up, panties flashing, and snow started falling with force, covering the girls’ hair and accumulating on the ground. Wind kicked up a notch and smaller, harder flakes started biting my face.
“Inside!” Lauren yelled, her hair blowing all over, one hand trying to control it.
“Aaaw, Mom!” Sylvie complained.
Another even harder gust hit, sweeping down from the mountains. It made Sylvie stumble. In quick order, we returned to the warmth and quiet of the house.
Over lunch, eaten like a picnic at the coffee table, with television on to provide a weather update and wind howling, both girls attention was on outside. Snow pelted the windows and started collecting in the corners.
“This is exciting, Daddy!” Amanda enthused, Sylvie grinning and nodding her agreement.
It was. One of my favorite times is being inside with a winter storm battering the house. I enjoyed the coziness of a warm fire roaring and snow darkening the day. It was something Lauren and I had never experienced as kids.
“Let’s go for a swim,” Lauren suggested, her eyes bright and alive. “I’ve never been swimming in the middle of a snow storm.”
“Yeah! Let’s!” Sylvie said, jumping up.
Amanda and Sylvie took off at a run. Lauren and I followed. By the time we entered the poolroom, both girls were almost naked, down to their panties. They shoved them down exposing cute bottoms, shouted with glee and ran, leaping into the pool.
Lauren, with a smile, said, “They love you, Ryan. It’s different. Just go with the flow and let them be happy. They need it.”
With that, Lauren started undressing. Amidst the yells and splashing of two excited girls, Lauren stripped, slowly. She put on a show for me, easing her top off, reaching behind her to unhook her bra, releasing her beautiful breasts. Unzipping her jeans, she eased them down revealing surprisingly sexy string bikini panties, satin and shimmering white. Straightening, looking at me with a little curl of amusement on her lips, she eased her panties down, exposing her sexy, trimmed pubic bush. With a smile, she kicked the panties off her foot at me. I caught them, and Lauren, with a laugh, turned and dived in flashing her spectacular ass at me.
I had a partial erection. Desire stirred, mixing with arousal, something I hadn’t felt in a while.
“C’mon, Dad!” Sylvie yelled. “Get naked!”
Lauren, having far too much fun, joined in. Sounding just like she did when she was ten, she yelled, “Yeah! Get nekkid! Strip!”
I couldn’t stop my grin and damn if it didn’t feel wonderful. As if shedding fears and reservations with each item of clothing I tossed away, to hoots and hollers, stress faded away. I stripped and, diving into the pool, warm water washed off the worries that had been haunting me.
Amanda and Sylvie immediately attacked, dunking me, and I rediscovered the joy of skinny dipping, of fun, of wrestling and dunking my sister. And when an erection formed, I wasn’t bothered in the least.
By the time we were exhausted, the storm still raged. A foot of snow had accumulated. Dried and dressed, I was strong-armed into a game of Twister, Lauren sitting it out. Somehow, with bodies contorted, I had pantied bottoms pressed to my face, or legs straddling my neck, crotches pressed against me, short skirts covering my face. When I tickled Amanda, she burst into a fit of giggles collapsing.
Sylvie smirked at me until I treated her to the same. She also burst into giggles before exclaiming, “Not fair, Dad!”
For some reason, the game devolved into wrestling and tickling, two girls attacking. I had a ball. I loved it. Their utter joy filled my spirits to bursting.
We actually made it out into the snow just before dinner. Wind had died down except for the occasional gust blowing the girls hair all over the place. I pelted both with snowballs while they tried to figure out how to make compact balls and, when a snowball hit the back of my head, exploding and dripping coldly down my neck, with Lauren laughing at me, she was added as a target. Three against one. I lost.
Sylvie and Amanda were exhausted by bedtime. They each approached me, smiling, and kissed my lips, whispering, “Night Dad,” and “Night Daddy.”
With Lauren putting them to bed, I found myself smiling. Remarkably, the day had pulled me out of a spiral of despair and self doubt. Amanda and Sylvie, two beautiful girls so full of joy and love, had been the medicine I needed. They’d showered me with bright laughter, hugs, physical closeness, silliness, and touched me with their happiness and sweetness, their boisterous energy and enthusiasm. In their behavior they’d shown trust in me.
Lauren settled them down and returned to the living room, fetching a chilled glass of white wine for each of us. I turned the television off. With the sound of a crackling fire, lights out, flickering amber flames creating dancing shadows in the room, with Lauren leaning against me, her head resting on my shoulder, I said, “Thank you.”
She knew what I was thanking her for. “You’re welcome,” she responded, her hand rubbing my leg with easy familiarity.
In bed, making love with my sister started out uncomplicated, unadventurous, slow and languid, as if we were reconnecting, reestablishing the intimacy between us, familiar yet exciting. We kissed softly, naked together. Skin was caressed and, as kisses became more passionate, more intimate parts were explored; Lauren gently stroking my erection, me caressing her breasts and teasing her nipples.
Heat intensified and I bent, kissing her breasts, sucking on her nipples, my hand edging down over the sensual female swell of her stomach to find her pubic bush, cup her mons, and finally trace her cleft. Lauren moaned when I touched her clit, her hand reaching down to pull mine away.
“I’m ready,” she whispered. “It’s been too long.”
She urged me up and over her, her knees rising to cradle my hips, her hand reaching down to stroke my erection, pleasure hitting me. With no fanfare, Lauren guided my tip down through her cleft, eased it side-to-side, her labia parting, and nestled me to her entrance. Satisfied, she released me and hugged me.
Poised to penetrate her, my erection strong and throbbing, we kissed, Lauren’s startling sapphire eyes looking at me. A smile played across her lips as we kissed, then her eyes blinked out, her mouth opening, tongue emerging. Kissing each other, I pressed, my sister’s pussy reluctantly yielding, already slippery, and very slowly I penetrated her, her vagina a silken glove gripping my tip. Easing back slightly, I penetrated her again, just the tip. It was exquisite. When I did it again, Lauren moaned and pushed her pussy up at me. I backed off, easing my crown out, then gently penetrating her again. I loved the sensation, that feeling of pure velvet oozing over the head of my cock.
I did it again and the kiss ended suddenly, Lauren groaning, “Jesus, Ryan! Fuck me for God’s sake!”
“I am,” I claimed with a smile.
Lauren’s hands reached down to my ass. She tugged hard and in one stroke, I buried myself inside her.
“Gawd that feels good,” she moaned, clenching her vagina, trapping my erection.
It did. It felt fantastic, my erection swelling, thick and hard, held tightly in a moist, warm grip. Settling my full weight onto her, with my face finding her neck, inhaling the scent of peaches and blossoms, we started moving, gently, slowly, luxuriating in the closeness, of loving each other.
Lauren, sighing with pleasure, rubbed my legs with her feet, whispering, “God this feels so good. I missed it.”
Hugging her, I rolled us, Lauren on top.
She sat up, my erection still buried in her, and smiled at me, her hands rubbing my chest. “I like this position,” she said. “I can watch you.”
“Me, too,” I agreed, admiring her small but full breasts, they way they moved, sexy, mature, yet still so youthful. Her body narrowed to her waist, then curved out where she straddled me, her pussy sensually pressed to my groin, almost plump. “You’ve got a very sexy body,” I added, reaching up to caress her beautiful breasts.
Lauren smiled and started moving, just slightly, scrubbing her pussy back and forth and I felt it on the tip of my erection, a sensual massage that made my pulse jump.
With gorgeous deep blue eyes shining, and a small amused smile, my sister rose, her pussy slipping up my erection, my shaft glistening as it was exposed and, as the flared ridge emerged, she eased back down just enough to surround my crown in sexy warmth, snugness, then rose again.
Hands on my chest, Lauren fucked the tip of my cock slowly sending pulses of pleasure through me. It was exquisite agony - the desire to thrust up, bury myself inside her strong. Then she eased down, slowly settling on me, my entire cock caressed by velvet. Before I was ready, she rose up again exposing my shaft and tip fucked me, my crown oozing in and out of her entrance. The pressure of an incipient orgasm stirred, her titillation too powerful.
Reaching down, I fondled her pussy, found her clit and started rubbing. The effect was fantastic. With just my crown penetrating my sister, she started clenching her pussy, tight, relaxed, tight, relaxed, and my cock swelled in response, shaft thick and straining.
I was at the point of losing it, desire for release almost painful. Lauren, as if reading me, took me deep, her cleft pressing against my groin, rose and took me into her again in a smooth stroke. She fucked me slowly and gradually speeded up, each time lifting her pussy almost all the way off and plunging down, her moist, velvet vagina caressing me.
A flush emerged on her chest. Her eyes closed. I reached for her breasts and held them, squeezing and fondling. Lauren rose and fell, rose and fell, her hands covering the back of mine. The she moaned, so quietly it was almost a whisper, “Ryan.”
With a full body shudder, my sister climaxed. She fucked me faster, her pussy milking me, squeezing and caressing. She groaned, a frown on her beautiful face, body rising and falling, so damn sexy.
I followed her, my erection swelling. And as my orgasm blossomed, I gasped loudly. Thrusting up into her, my cock swelled, semen raced up my shaft and, with an exquisite burst of pleasure, I came, semen spurting.
Lauren collapsed onto me, hips churning, fucking me, and with each deep penetration, my cock swelled and I exploded, cum spurting, bliss hitting me. Grabbing her buttocks, I thrust and came, spurting gloriously, thrust and came drowning in pleasure, cock pulsing, until I passed the peak and slipped down into emptiness, drained, sated. Bodies stilled and relaxed.
The females in my life flourished. I hadn’t understood how closely their happiness was linked to my disposition. It was clear in how the girls were exuberant, excited, and full of energy, warming me with smiles and laughter. Lauren responded, too. She joked and egged her daughters on, laughing at their antics.
With the snow melted into slush, we all headed into town on Saturday; a leisurely day of browsing, shopping, and eating lunch at a local restaurant. I found myself evermore charmed by the three of them, my love growing.
Over lunch, as Amanda regaled us with an energetic story of her finger painting prowess, her hands moving, finger jabbing, her cheeks covered in ketchup, and Sylvie countered with her soccer skills, eating her French fries one by one, each dipped delicately into ketchup and inspected before taking a bite, I understood how fortunate I was.
That night, I let myself go. When Sylvie kissed my cheek goodnight and headed towards the hall, I called her back. “Hey! What sort of kiss was that? I want a proper kiss!”
Sylvie turned, smiling broadly, and returned. Standing between my knees, I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her slender body, and smiled as she bent her head, her azure eyes sparkling. She kissed me on my lips. Then the tip of a small tongue touched my lips and I responded, touching her tongue with mine.
With the cutest blush, and a shy smile, she headed back to her room.
Amanda, in flannel pajamas, raced out from the hall two minutes later. “Me, too!” she exclaimed and I kissed her a well, her honey brown eyes open as her tongue emerged, a partial grin of amusement on her lips. She was playful, her tongue teasing mine, and giggled when the kiss ended. And it didn’t bother me when a partial erection formed.
“Thanks, Daddy!” she said brightly and ran back to her bedroom.
Lauren looked on with an amused smile. Sex that night was wonderful.
Sunday morning, when I woke up and glanced at my sister, my pulse spiked, arousal storming in, an erection forming.
It was a defining moment; the last of my reluctance laid waste.
Facing me, Lauren was spooning Amanda from behind, her arms around her. Amanda’s eyes were closed, her nostrils flaring with deep breaths. Movement under the sheet excited me. Lauren, smiling at me, brushed the sheet down and I inhaled sharply. Amanda’s nightshirt was rucked up, her cotton panties pushed down mid-thigh, her small, hairless pussy on display.
Lauren, watching me, reached down and cupped her daughter’s pussy, fingers moving, caressing her. I saw every detail; Amanda’s plump little mons, her sexy hairless labia bulging around my sister’s finger gently stroking her.
My erection strengthened. Amanda’s brow furrowed slightly. Her hips moved as my sister rubbed her clit. Then Lauren withdrew her hand and reached over to me. On her glistening finger I caught the subtle scent of Amanda’s arousal, just a trace, and it hit a spot in my brain. Unconsciously, I held my erection and stroked. Lauren, smiling, eyes twinkling, rubbed her finger against my lips and I opened my mouth, tasting Amanda, almost sweet with a hint of something else, something basal.
She went back to touching her daughter, caressing her clit, adding my saliva to her little cleft, Amanda responding, moving, humping her pussy against her mother’s finger. Lauren, still watching me, kissed Amanda’s shoulder.
Amanda sighed, her eyes tightly closed, a frown reemerging, nostrils flaring. For a few minutes I drowned in the eroticism of a mother intimately playing with her daughter and it excited me enormously. Stroking myself, I was given a rare, illicit treat. I watched Amanda build towards her climax, mouth opening, panting, hips undulating.
And when Amanda climaxed, gasping almost silently, her small body shaking, and frowning deeply, I came. Lauren knew. She smiled at me. I came in a burst of pleasure, thrilled by the erotic show. Semen spurted onto the bed, cock straining, crown swelling, hand stroking, I came again, another wave of bliss hitting, cum released with exquisite pleasure. I stroked myself to a wonderful, exciting orgasm, watching an eight-year-old climaxing. It was thrilling, intense, an experience like no other.
Later that morning, Lauren asked conversationally, “How did you like it?”
I was honest. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so sexy.”
She smiled with pleasure. “Good. Because next weekend both girls want to do that with us. Sylvie wants to be with you.”
“Jesus,” I gasped, feeling my body respond.
Lauren’s eyes twinkled with mischief. She continued, “I’m going to show you how I give Amanda an oral orgasm at the same time.”
I groaned. Lauren laughed lightly, adding, “Then I’m going to take my horniness out on you. I hope you have a lot of stamina.”
Man, was I turned on!
She kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, “The girls want to watch us make love.”
Throughout the day, I embraced my attraction to Sylvie and Amanda. They played, yelled, argued, made up, and giggled, totally charming me.
I was gently aroused all day, excited at the prospect of intimacy with them.
Then Lauren amazed me. At one point, as Sylvie stood and debated something with her mother, Lauren laughed and wrapped her daughter in her arms. Sylvie laughed and her mother kissed her. The kiss, from a pressing of lips, suddenly changed. Sylvie wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and I actually saw both mouths open! I actually saw their tongues play in a sexy, sexy French kiss! The sight hit me hard. Seeing a mother kiss her young daughter so intimately aroused me like crazy. It was illicit and erotic and exciting, a strong erection forming. Lauren’s deep blue eyes glanced at me and sparkled.
From that moment on I suffered from a constant state of horniness. I didn’t stop myself when Amanda was near, grabbing her and lifting her, her legs wrapping around my waist. I kissed her deeply, more than tongue tips touching, aware that she’d done this with her mother, and Amanda responded, kissing me back with remarkable skill and giggling with pleasure when it ended. I did the same with Sylvie later, relishing that I was kissing the mouth my sister had kissed. Sylvie’s azure eyes twinkled with awareness, her tongue active and playful.
My shorts were uncomfortable, damp from precum constantly leaking. And Lauren added to my growing agony, subtly fondling me through my jeans when the girls weren’t looking.
By evening, I was lost in another world of sexy girls, forbidden, illicit, and so damn exciting, memories of Lauren at ten years old drifting pleasantly through my mind. I kissed her frequently, and she responded with intense, passionate kisses, clearly as aroused as I was and that excited me even more. Both girls observed us, grinning broadly. It was a disorienting experience to be turned on by three sexy females; two preteens, one a sensual, adventurous woman.
That night Lauren didn’t make it into bed. When she brushed her teeth and washed her face at the sink next to mine, wearing a sexy pink bra and panty set, I fondled her gorgeous ass while brushing my teeth, Lauren giggling!
She made it as far as the side of the bed, laughing at my groping, and no further. Too horny by far, I pushed her face down over the side of the bed, her sexy ass gaining a sensual heart shape, fondled satiny pink panty-clad buttocks, and shoved my boxers off.
Lauren laughed. “Are you horny?”
“You have no concept,” I assured her, tugging her panties down to expose her naked ass, her sexy pussy pressed out and framed by the top of her thighs, auburn pubes, tightly closed cleft.
With no foreplay, standing behind her, her legs together, I gripped my shaft and guided the tip. It kissed her cleft, precum making it glisten. Running the tip down across her clit where it peeked out, precum spread. Man I loved the sight! With more pressure, driven by intense need, I eased the tip of my erection back up her cleft, watching as her lush labia bulged sensually then parted, hugging me. I pressed harder and at the base of her slit, with her rosebud showing, found the entrance to her. Inflamed by desire, I wondered if Lauren would like anal sex. What would it feel like to take her ass here, now, and watch my cock ooze into her tight butt?
Cock swelling and rigid, thick and straining, I pressed again, my sister’s pussy slowly yielding, labia stretching, and the head of my erection oozed into her finding slippery arousal, warmth, and a snug hug of welcome.
Lauren moaned quietly, laying quietly, her face turned, cheek on the bed.
Lodged in her, poised to penetrate her fully, I released my shaft and grabbed her waist, thrusting. It was exquisite. I penetrated her, my thick cock disappearing, oozing into her, her labia stretched. Liquid warmth surrounded my cock. Her sexy buttocks nestled to my groin. I stopped, my erection pulsing and alive inside her, and took time to admire the sexy sight, fucking my sister, her gorgeous ass, slender body, a pink bra.
“One day, I want to try anal sex with you,” I told her. “You’ve got the sexiest ass in the world.”
Lauren clenched her pussy around my erection, so tight. “I’d like to try it. I’ve never had anal sex,” she murmured, wiggling her butt against my groin. “But right now, I need to be fucked, Ryan.”
Withdrawing, her vagina almost inverting as it tried to hold me in, my shaft glistening, made my pulse jump, pleasure flowing in. As the rim of my head emerged, I thrust in, a short hard thrust. Lauren grunted, her buttocks shaking as my groin slapped into them. God it felt good. I did it again, a slow withdrawal, a quick thrust; my sister’s body shoved slightly, erection buried inside her, arousal intensifying at the incredible excitement of fucking Lauren.
Another slow withdrawal and sharp thrust, so fucking good, need blossomed. Holding her slender waist, I started fucking my sister, long strokes, exquisite thrusts, Lauren’s pussy slippery and tight. My groin smacked against her buttocks with every stroke, cock buried, shaft exposed, cock buried, her pussy so damn snug. I fucked Lauren faster, my erection thumping into her, driven by a day of sexy teasing. My cock was rigid and thick and heavy, straining, crown inflamed, pleasure washing over me, fucking Lauren, fucking my sister. I wanted to go on forever, enjoying this incredible feeling. I wanted to fuck Lauren all night, drown in the pleasure suffusing me. But I didn’t.
Lauren took me over the top. Reaching down under her, she rubbed her clit and gasped, “Cumming! Oh God! Fuck me harder, Ryan!”
Her body twitched, cramped, paused briefly, then shuddered. Crying out her pleasure, Lauren undulated her ass against me, her pussy clenching and milking me.
I fucked her with hard strokes, burying myself inside her, pulling out, thrusting, my heart racing and, with a groan of agony, I came, cock swelling, semen racing up my shaft. A moment of ecstasy hit and cum erupted deep inside her body, sweet bliss. Thrusting again, another even harder explosion of semen flooded her, ecstasy making me dizzy. With my sister gasping and climaxing, I came beautifully, each thrust, each spurt bringing exquisite pleasure, crown swelling, semen erupting, bliss, bliss. I rode my orgasm all the way up, peaked with my body straining, and rode it down, pulses slowing, weakening, pleasure suffusing me until I was drained, done, empty.
On Monday, the snow had melted. Only the peaks of the mountains remained snow-covered. Gray clouds obscured the sky and promised more snow. Monday was the start of a week of personal agony. I was teased relentlessly by both Sylvie and Amanda, observed and encouraged by their mother. Lauren was no slouch, either. She teased me as well.
I was treated to inordinately sexy kisses at odd times; sensual kisses by preteens that aroused me no end. With no shame, I fondled cute little bottoms over clothes, loving how small they felt, and aroused by how my hand could cup a sexy little buttock. Both girls flourished, pretty eyes glowing with excitement and amusement, filled with giggles and laughter, and screaming with enjoyment when I’d chase after them when they’d deliberately tease me.
The must have had their mother’s help. Those two would emerge at night in short T-shirts and little cotton panties to kiss me good night and giggle with pleasure when I groped their sexy asses. Pajamas had been relegated to their dressers.
I’d catch sight of my sister kissing one of her daughters deeply, sensuously, while caressing their bums and it aroused me so damn much every time.
Every night I took my sexual frustration out on Lauren, our sex energetic, powerful, and adventurous. Lauren laughed and responded, my equal in her appetite. We had sex in the shower after washing each other. I caught her in the laundry room mid-morning wearing soft, pale pink sweatpants that outlined her gorgeous ass as she bent to load the washer, and took advantage of her, yanking her sweats and matching panties down. Lauren, laughing and trying to pull her panties up, finally surrendered and we had some great sex in the laundry room, washer and dryer running, the wonderful scent of detergent and fresh, clean clothes in the air.
On Thursday, Lauren refused my advances, saying, “You’re going to need strength for this weekend. Go paint something, Picasso!”
I did, if only to distract myself. Much to my astonishment, Madeleine had sold three of my paintings in her gallery in town. Not only that, but the price she sold them for was mind-blowing! She’d advised me to price them high, assuring me it would drive up demand, and she was right. I calculated that one painting sold every three months would give me an income that far exceeded what I’d earned as a photographer; as in far, far exceeded!
Friday arrived to great anticipation. I was antsy and couldn’t concentrate. Foremost in my mind was the thought of the four of us being in bed together, of intimacy, touching, of sexy snuggling, the image of Lauren with Amanda so sharp in my mind.
To distract myself, I went for a hike. Cloud cover had threatened all week but teased with no precipitation. It arrived on my hike through the forest, climbing high. It started with individual flakes drifting down through perfectly still air. The flakes were large and fluffy. Breath fogged the air as I panted, moving ever higher, and slowly the falling flakes multiplied until it was snowing thickly. Absent a breeze, pure white snow settled on branches like icing on a cupcake and slowly covered the ground. It was so beautiful, so peaceful.
It inspired ideas for new paintings. Could I capture the absolute silence and peace? The feeling of simple joy at nature’s magnificence? I wanted to try. Maybe include the girls to communicate innocent pleasure.
Turning, I headed home to find Amanda and Sylvie frolicking in the snow, running, yelling, and playing with enthusiasm. They distracted me enough to forget everything else. As snow accumulated, they launched a snowball fight and dished out as many direct hits on me as I got on them, laughing and giggling.
So distracted and absorbed in the family, I almost forgot about our plans until Lauren announced, “Okay, girls. Bedtime.”
“Aaaw, Mom!” Sylvie complained until she saw her mother give her a look. Jumping up, she grabbed Amanda’s hand. “C’mon. It’s bed time.”
It struck me when the girls disappeared that I’d had some interesting plans in mind all day. Oh well. There was always tomorrow.
“Come, Ryan,” Lauren said with a twinkle in her eyes. “It’s been a long day and I have plans.”
Smiling and slowly becoming aroused, I followed her, admiring her great ass in jeans. Would she like to try anal sex tonight? I’d get her horny first and ask. “Lovely ass,” I commented.
Lauren laughed brightly and twitched her beautiful butt, turning into our bedroom. Fifteen minutes later we were in bed, naked and groping, kissing.
“Slow down, Picasso,” Lauren said with a laugh. “We have all night.”
“I’m horny. Maybe we can go a couple of rounds tonight,” I suggested, not believing I was actually capable, but urgently horny, I reached down to grope her pussy.
Lauren laughed again, pushing my hand away playfully, so I fondled her breast instead.
The bed shook violently. Sylvie and Amanda landed on top of us. Before I could think of something to say, they yanked the covers back and squeezed between us, separating Lauren and me.
Sylvie squirmed back at me, reaching for my arm. “You’re supposed to hold me.”
Lauren, smiling, pulled Amanda to her, and there we were, spooning both girls facing each other, Amanda grinning at me. With some leg kicks, the sheet was shoved down revealing both girls naked except for panties; white with blue elastic waist and legs and Ariel printed on them for Amanda, pale pink with deeper pink elastic bands for Sylvie, different small hearts printed on them. Both soft cotton.
Amanda’s panties formed to her small pubis, hinting at a little cleft. Sylvie’s panties, pressed back against me, felt soft against the erection I still sported, her cute buttocks sandwiching me, and damn if it didn’t feel good.
Lauren's eyes sparkled with excitement. She had a soft, almost amused smile curling the corners of her mouth. She wrapped her arms around her daughter and, looking at me in the eyes, kissed Amanda’s cheek. One hand caressed down Amanda’s stomach and, as it passed over Amanda’s panties, her daughter lifted her leg. My erection surged at the sight of Lauren cupping her daughter’s little pussy.
Sylvie, unhappy with my immobility, said, “You’re supposed to hug me, Dad,” reaching and pulling my arm.
I eased one under her, one over her. “Sorry,” I whispered, now distracted by the movement of my sister’s hand on Amanda’s pussy; a slow caress, stimulating her.
Sylvie grabbed my hand and moved it down, lifting her leg, placing my palm on her small pubis. “You’re not very good at this,” she observed. “Do what Mom’s doing.”
“Sorry,” I whispered again.
My God, Sylvie’s pussy felt so damn sexy; a small padded mound, soft cotton under my touch. She was so small, her pussy didn’t even fill my palm.
Amanda’s smile faded, her pale honey eyes watching me as her mother caressed her, Lauren’s fingertip rubbing Amanda’s cleft, soft cotton moving sensuously.
“Watch Mom,” Sylvie complained. “She’ll teach you.”
“Sorry,” I whispered again, kissing her cheek, her wild curls tickling my face.
I traced Sylvie’s cotton covered cleft, her panties slipping under the pad of my finger, and tried to find her clit.
Sylvie was not impressed. “You have to go lower, Dad.”
Smiling, I probed deeper and rubbed, still not feeling her clit.
“That’s better,” she announced.
Lauren’s eyes were slightly crinkled with a smile, and I noticed her body shaking with silent laughter. Staring deeply into my eyes, she eased her hand up Amanda’s panties and I became distracted again, my sisters fingertips easing under the waist. I watched the incredibly sexy sight of my sister’s hand slip inside, stretching soft cotton panties, and cup Amanda’s pussy.
When Sylvie wiggled against me, I mimicked Lauren, easing my hand up, slipping fingertips under the elastic waist, my arousal rising again.
Sliding my hand inside Sylvie’s childish cotton panties was an exercise in erotic: beneath my fingers, silky smooth skin; against the tops, soft cotton. Reaching into Sylvie’s panties was a huge turn on.
And then I felt the rise of her hairless mons. Burrowing deeper, I touched the tip of her cleft, and as I cupped her small pussy, a shudder of pleasure hit me.
Amanda’s eyes dropped to the outline of my hand inside her sister’s panties and returned to my face, her light honey eyes watching. They narrowed slightly as her mother caressed her.
I traced Sylvie’s short cleft down to where it ended and drew my finger up, her labia parting just enough for me touch her small clit. I rubbed gently.
“That’s better,” she sighed.
It sure as Hell was!
But Lauren changed the game on me. She eased her hand out and, still smiling at me with her startling blue eyes, rubbed Amanda’s small hip, then eased the side of her cotton panties down to expose her hipbone.
Her hand disappeared behind and Amanda lifted slightly. The other side of Amanda’s panties eased down and slowly, so very slowly, Amanda’s eight-year-old pussy was exposed; a hairless little peach with a tightly closed cleft.
Against Sylvie’s bottom, my erection throbbed. Sylvie wiggled to get my attentions and, blindly, I copied my sister, easing Sylvie’s panties down to mid thigh. Why was the act of taking her panties off so sexy?
As I caressed Sylvie’s bare hip, so damn small, she said, “Watch what Mom does so you know what to do.”
“Okay,” I whispered, reaching between us to cup Sylvie’s gorgeous small buttock.
Lauren moved away from Amanda. Amanda rolled onto her back and her mother tugged Amanda’s panties off, shuffling down. Showing they’d done this before, Amanda brought her knees up, feet on the bed, and spread her legs, Lauren settling onto the bed between them.
From between Amanda’s thighs, Lauren smiled at me and kissed the top of Amanda’s hairless mons. She kissed her cleft and pressed, Amanda’s pubis bulging. The sight thrilled me, so illicit and exciting.
I heard Lauren’s kiss, the sound clear, and watched her tongue emerge to taste her daughter. Amanda sighed audibly, her eyes closing.
“Your turn, Dad,” Sylvie said, shaking me out of my trance. “Just like Mom.”
When Sylvie rolled onto her back, her full, prepubescent glory was revealed: slender body; flat chest with pink areolae and tiny nipples; two small hips forming peaks at her sides; her buttocks swelling slightly where they pressed to the bed; and, dear Lord, a gorgeous, hairless pussy rising like a sexy mountain from her stomach, narrowing erotically to plunge between her thighs, her vulva full and round and erotic.
My erection ached, precum leaking as I moved down.
Then Sylvie brought her knees up and parted them. Two plump labia separated to expose a small, long clitoral hood, the small bump of her clitoris, and below, a very small, pink and moist slit.
Sylvie’s azure eyes watched me, a Mona Lisa-like smile on her lips; no embarrassment, no shyness, just uninhibited enjoyment. When I smiled at her, her pretty face grew into radiance with a full smile, and somehow, all final doubts evaporated. No one could look like that and not want my affection.
With a pulse running harder and an erection aching, I lay on the bed between her legs and kissed Sylvie’s pussy for the first time. It was exquisitely soft, and, in my nose, I caught the faintest hint of her; a subtle scent of arousal.
So close to her pubis, I noticed she wasn’t truly bald. Tiny, soft-looking baby hair dusted her mons and cleft, almost invisible; the precursor to puberty in her future. What would it be like to watch them change color, to see her grow sparse pubes? What color would they be? I didn’t know, but I knew I was going to be gifted with seeing her change, and that excited me hugely.
Against my mouth, Sylvie’s pussy was warm and supple, yielding to pressure. Her labia bulged against my lips, and when I touched her with my tongue, when I tasted her, my erection strained so hard I thought I might cum. A flood of memories came back at me of tasting
Lauren when she was ten. But this time, with maturity on my side, I could truly appreciate how incredible a prepubescent pussy was. Small and warm, soft with a delicate aroma, and the slight tang of her arousal, Sylvie’s pussy was wonderful, erotic, so sexy.
I caressed her clit with my tongue, then eased the tip down through the glassy interior below, and touched the very small entrance to her vagina, velvety and slick, moist. Gluing my lips to her pussy, I sucked, tasting her incredible youthful ambrosia, then made my way back to her clit.
Easing my hands under her small buttocks, I sucked and teased her clit. Next to me, Amanda let out a moan. Sylvie’s buttocks tightened and relaxed, tightened and relaxed, and, as I ate her out, she started undulating her pussy against my mouth.
From my prone position, I watched Sylvie’s eyes close. She humped my mouth, her cleft getting damper. A small frown formed between her brows, nostrils flaring and, as I ate her pussy, Sylvie tipped over into a quiet, yet thrilling climax. Her stomach muscles tightened, pelvis curling up as if in a cramp, paused, then let out the cutest grunt, body released, and suddenly, she was scrubbing her pussy against my lips, humping and gasping quietly, her hands curled into small fists on her stomach.
I followed her climax, rubbing her clit with my tongue harder until, with a sigh, she collapsed, limp, legs slipping to the bed, her eyes closed, face peaceful.
I had a raging erection. I was so damn horny.
Moving away, I noticed Amanda in a similar situation, a small smile curling the corners of her mouth.
Lauren rose, smiling at me. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’m so horny right now. Get on your back.”
She had no concept of real horniness. When I lay on my back between the girls, my erection was jutting up off my stomach, inflamed and angry, red, precum oozing.
Lauren straddled my legs and moved up, smiling, eyes twinkling as she gently took my erection in hand. Her amber pubes couldn’t hide her cleft, nor her clit, not the glint of moisture; my sister horny.
Upright on her knees, she shuffled up and guided the tip of my erection to her cleft, swiping it back and forth, spreading precum. Still smiling softly, a bit of mischief entered her enchanting eyes. She guided my tip to the warm entrance to her vagina and paused.
I waited, my erection straining, desire for release raging inside me. But Lauren just smiled at me and pressed her pussy down only enough to tease, then rising slightly and using my tip to stimulate her clit.
“Jesus,” I moaned quietly.
Her smile grew. She repeated her tease, this time easing the tip of my straining erection into her, just far enough for her velvety heat to edge part way over my crown, then rose again and used me to rub her clit. She was driving me nuts!
Another tantalizing brush with penetration, this time my crown slipping into her very wet pussy before being removed, and it was too much. I’d suffered too much; eating Sylvie’s pussy, watching my sister eat Amanda’s pussy, and relentlessly teased with the promise of being taken into my sister’s warm, snug pussy, was more than I could handle.
When she used my tip to caress her clit, I came explosively, hot, thick, white semen spurting against her clit. Suddenly, Lauren pushed my erection back and sat on me hard, taking my full length inside and I came again, an agonizing spurt, sweet bliss, wrapped by velvet. She sat and smiled at me as I came inside her, each straining pulse bringing exquisite pleasure, throbbing, cumming, swelling and spurting until I passed the peak and slowed, finally stopping, my pulse racing.
Lauren still smiled at me, eyes twinkling. “Feeling better?” she asked.
“That was amazing!” Sylvie exclaimed. “Can I try?”
Lauren laughed, her vagina constricting on my softening penis. “I’ll have to think about it,” she informed Sylvie.
“Me too!” Amanda added. “I wanna try!”
Lord help me!!
Snow finally arrived overnight; the permanent winter snow all the ski resorts prayed for. It was falling with blizzard-like gusts in the morning, visibility severely restricted, and snowdrifts collecting against the sides of the house.
I had coffee brewed and ready by the time Lauren emerged. Both girls were still asleep.
Lauren looked fresh and clean, her amber hair, damp from a morning shower, looked darker. She smiled, her beautiful face lighting up, and accepted the mug of coffee I held out for her.
Glancing out at the weather, she commented, “I love the snow. It’s so pristine and white. Doesn’t it make the house feel cozy? We should start a fire.”
About to agree, she continued in the same conversational tone, “Amanda wants to switch with Sylvie tonight. Sylvie’s been riling her sister up, claiming you’re better than I am.”
With a twinkle in her eyes, she added, “Based on experience, I think she’s right.”
Lauren walked over to me. Up on tiptoes, she kissed my cheek. “But, before they get anything, I need some attention. In case you didn’t notice, I didn’t get to cum last night. I’m horny.”
Again, before I could respond, the girls came charging in wearing flannel pajamas.
“Look! It’s snowing!” Sylvie exclaimed, pushing her hair back.
“We get to play in it!” Amanda added, her pale honey eyes alight with excitement.
Sylvie, with a huge smile, told us, “I’m gonna dress!” and turned.
“Girls!” Lauren stopped them in their tracks with her warning tone. They turned back to us. “Breakfast first. Then you clean up your rooms.”
“Aaaaw, Mom!” Sylvie tried.
A firm stare took all protest out of her daughters.
Smiling to myself, I headed to the study, the interplay between the kids and Lauren making me forget about my sister’s state of horniness.
An hour later, sitting on a stool in front of the easel and lost in painting, Lauren’s arms wrapped around me from behind. She kissed my cheek and commented, “That’s a great painting.”
Studying it, I wasn’t satisfied. Trying to capture the girls in Wellington boots, twirling, arms outstretched and faces up trying to capture snowflakes in their mouths, was harder than I’d expected. Their expressions weren’t expressive enough; didn’t show the pure, innocent joy of youth.
Lauren whispered, “Did I mention I’m horny? The girls are busy.”
I looked at my oil paint-covered hands. It takes five minutes to clean them properly.
Lauren whispered, “You left me hanging last night. I almost went to get my dildo back from Sylvie.”
Questions flooded my brain: Why did Sylvie have it? What did she do with it?
“Did Sylvie’s small pussy remind you of me?” Lauren whispered. “I used to wonder what you felt when you ate me out. I found out with the girls. No wonder you liked to do it so often. Don’t you love how soft their bare pussies are? How clean they taste?”
Her sexy whispers had the desired effect. I grew erect, my crotch tight, jeans restrictive. Then Lauren leaned further over my shoulder, her hand sneaking down to my groin, rubbing me, and a surge of desire mushroomed inside me. Man did she have my number!
“I’m so horny,” she whispered. “Wanna screw around, Ryan? Be naughty? Wanna fuck? A quickie?”
It was so out of character to hear my sister talk dirty! And hot damn, did it arouse me!
Standing suddenly, with Lauren actually giggling lightly, I turned and grabbed her, groping her jean-clad ass, tugging her to me.
“Mom? Where are you?” Sylvie yelled.
Lauren, laughed and eased away from me, calling out, “In the study.”
Sylvie arrived, her voice leading her, “I’ve finished my room. Can I go . . .”
She stopped when she entered the study, looked at us and asked, “What were you doing?”
“I was painting,” I told her.
Sylvie’s azure eyes sparkled, a grin formed. “Is that why Mom has hand prints on her bum?”
I grinned. She was observant.
“So can we go outside now?” Sylvie asked.
“Wrap up well,” Lauren told her.
Thinking it might distract the girls for long enough, I suggested, “Build a snowman.”
Sylvie’s eyes lit up with excitement. “How?”
Lauren, clearly not on my mental wavelength, said, “Dad will show you, won’t you Ryan?”
The silent plea in my eyes only made her smile. “Go, Picasso. We’ll find time later.”
I shot her the evil eye and she laughed at me.
Following Sylvie down the hall, she asked from in front, “Find time for what?”
Making snowmen with Amanda and Sylvie was a fantastic experience. They were so cute in their snow jackets, mittens and knit caps pulled down. They were beautiful in their excitement, eyes shining with pleasure, and their laughter when I pelted them with snowballs was heartwarming. I truly loved them; really loved them.
But, three hours out in cold snow was enough for us. Both girls were rosy-cheeked, shivering yet still excited, yelling to their mother to look at the snowmen they’d made.
Warm showers were followed by hot chocolate and, in front of the television, with a roaring fire casting off warmth, they both passed out.
Lauren, having changed out of her paint-stained jeans into soft, light grey sweatpants, puttered in the kitchen preparing lasagna for dinner. I had other ideas. Standing and leaning against the kitchen island counter, I admired her ass in the sweats. The soft cotton draped on her gorgeous buttocks giving me all sorts of ideas. She’d said she was horny, hadn’t she?
Moving behind her, I slipped my arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent of peaches and blossoms.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
I pressed my groin against her sexy butt, saying, “Nothing yet. But didn’t you mention you’ve been randy since last night?”
Lauren laughed lightly and rubbed her ass against me. I reacted, blood flowing south.
“I’m cooking. Go away,” she said.
“Can’t it wait?” I asked, my hand sliding up to cup her breast over her cotton T-shirt. Fondling gently, a soft caress, I teased her nipple into hardness.
Lauren wiggled to escape. “Not now, Ryan. I’ve changed my mind.”
“Why? To what?” When I eased my other hand towards her crotch, Lauren turned suddenly.
Beautiful, intense blue eyes twinkled at me. “You’ll find out soon enough. Go away! Let me cook.” She smiled again, “Go paint, Picasso.”
“Alright. But I’m probably going to paint something raunchy now!”
She rose on tiptoes and kissed my cheek, whispering, “In that case, we’ll hang it in the bedroom.” With mischief flitting through her eyes, she added, “Include the girls in the painting.”
I had to adjust myself as I walked back to the study. I still didn’t understand why Lauren’s erotic relationship with Amanda and Sylvie appealed to me so much, but damn it did!
I tried to paint but my mind wasn’t in it. I was too distracted and still mentally turned on. I was no better by dinner. On the positive side, both girls were still tired from playing in the snow and excited about playing again tomorrow, Sunday. Snow had fallen throughout the day. We’d have almost three feet by morning.
With the girls tired, they offered no resistance at bedtime. Amanda whispered into her mother’s ear, her hand cupping her mouth. Lauren nodded. Amanda, apparently satisfied, chastely kissed me goodnight on my cheek with a, “Night, Daddy.”
Sylvie’s was completely different. Her azure eyes twinkled with some unknown thought and she kissed me on the lips, her kiss lingering, and headed to bed.
Lauren moved to my side. Silence arrived when I turned the television off. A fire still crackled casting warmth into the large living room. I put my arm around my sister and relaxed. It lasted all of two minutes.
She said, “I’m still horny. Are you?”
If I hadn’t been, I was almost instantly. I nodded.
Smiling, Lauren said, “I need to get ready. Stay here until I call you.” She stood.
“Ready for what? Just undress.”
With mischief in her expression, she told me, “We’re going to try something different tonight. I need to prepare.”
Watching her sexy ass undulate inside soft sweatpants, I tried to guess what needed time to prepare for. Anal sex? I’d mentioned I’d like to try it with her. What else was there we hadn't tried? Nothing I could think of. So, anal sex. I shifted on the cushion to relieve the uncomfortable position of my growing erection and pictured my sister’s exquisite ass. Maybe have her lying prone on the bed, her sexy ass pressed to my groin, me buried deep inside her. Or perhaps, her on all fours . . .
Time ticked by very slowly. Too slowly. I couldn’t wait. My curiosity got the better of me; that and horniness. Standing, I made for the bedroom.
I made it as far as the doorway and stopped. Holy Hannah!
Lauren was naked on top of the bed with an equally naked Sylvie, their bodies intertwined.
Sylvie looked up at me and grinned. “Took ya long enough, Dad!”
Lauren and Sylvie kissed; a deep passionate kiss, tongues touching, mouths open. Lauren caressed Sylvie’s sexy little ass, fingers easing between small, rounded buttocks.
I stood, dumbstruck, until Lauren ended the kiss and said, “What took you so long. We started without you. Want to join us?”
“You didn’t call me!” I complained. Why did the sight of a woman being intimate with a young girl arouse me so much? An erection storming in proved that it did, enormously!
Lauren smiled. “Get undressed and lie next to us. There,” she instructed, pointing to the side behind Sylvie.
Undressing, still amazed at how sexy the sight was, Lauren added, “No touching. You can watch. We want you horny, don’t we, Sylvie?”
By the time I was naked, Sylvie and Lauren were back in an intimate embrace, kissing passionately. Sylvie’s knee, in what looked like a familiar move, eased between her mother’s legs, her thigh pressing to my sister’s pussy. Lauren pulled Sylvie’s cute ass to her, adding pressure, then eased her fingers down to gently tease Sylvie’s hairless pubis from behind, tracing her tightly closed cleft. My erection strained, thick and heavy.
I sat at the foot of the bed and watched Lauren touch her daughter, easing her fingertip into Sylvie’s short cleft, her labia bulging seductively as they hugged the probing finger. Lauren caressed Sylvie, her fingertip moving up and down and Sylvie’s small clitoris was revealed. Even more arousing was the way her lush little labia parted to expose the dark, tiny entrance to her vagina below, moist and red.
The sight of Lauren’s finger slowly easing down and penetrating her had my pulse racing, erection straining. Lauren’s finger slipped deeper, up to the second knuckle before easing out, glistening. I caught myself almost panting, I was breathing so hard.
And then . . .
Unbelievably, Lauren eased two fingers into Sylvie’s small vagina, her hairless labia stretching! I don’t think I’d ever seen a sexier sight! Unconsciously, I grasped my erection and stroked, a pulse of pleasure and excitement hitting me, precum leaking.
Their kiss ended with Sylvie sighing, “This feels so good, Mom.”
Lauren, looking at me, smiled at the sight of me stroking my erection. She said, “I think your Dad’s ready.”
Ready for what?
Sylvie finally looked down at me and grinned. “Uh-huh. Dad’s reeeealy ready!”
“Come up and lie next to us,” Lauren invited as Sylvie extracted herself from her mother’s embrace.
I did, now in a fog of horniness. Lauren shuffled our bodies around and I found myself on my side with Sylvie’s knees over my waist and thigh, my erection jutting over her small pussy.
Sylvie looked at me with a small, pleased smile, her azure eyes sparkling. I kissed her lightly and she teased me with the touch of her tongue. Responding, as my tongue brushed against her mouth, I suddenly snorted.
Lauren’s hand gripped my erection and stroked, spreading a very slippery liquid. I glanced down. My erection glistened with lube. Looking at my sister sharply, she smiled.
“I told you we were going to try something different,” she said. “Sylvie wants to see what it feels like to have you cum inside her.”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Just the thought of my semen filling her small pussy was thrilling!
Lauren held my slippery shaft and guided the tip to Sylvie’s little cleft, The touch sent a surge of excitement into me. The sight of my adult erection pressed slightly to her hairless cleft, her labia bulging, made my erection swell even more.
“Tell us when you’re about to cum so I can aim you right at her entrance,” my sister instructed.
“Won’t be long,” I gasped.
It wouldn’t either! Lauren started rubbing my tip up and down Sylvie’s slit, her labia gently parting to caress my straining crown, her reddened clit stimulated and moving sensually with each swipe. Horniness hammered me. I was so damn turned on!
Sylvie sighed, drawing my attention back to her. I smiled and, despite a racing pulse, kissed her lightly. “How does it feel?”
“Reeeealy good,” she murmured.
It must have felt good because she joined in, rubbing her small pussy up and down, and I shuddered as more of my crown oozed between her labia. Guided by Lauren, with each downward stroke my crown caught at the base of Sylvie’s slit, each upward stroke rubbing over her clit, then over her pubic bone, the tip emerging at the top of her mons, leaking and glistening, and then down again in a sensual caress.
It felt like forever, a sexy, intimate caress, and my excitement grew, precum leaking. The first stir of an orgasm began; erection straining as if ready to burst, tightness in my groin, pulse now racing.
“I’m close,” I whispered.
Lauren, with a firm hold on my shaft, guided the tip down. Sylvie pressed and I was lodged at her entrance. Then two things happened; Lauren started stroking my shaft, and Sylvie pushed harder.
Sensations bombarded me, disorienting and erotic beyond belief. It felt like I slipped deeper, her labia stretched and surrounding my crown. Against my tip, I actually felt her entrance dilate, stretch, and a tight ring edged lower. Before I could process what was happening, the head of my erection popped inside! Sylvie groaned. Her small vagina gripped my crown incredibly tightly. One look and that was it.
Sylvie’s young pussy was stretched by my erection, her labia bulging around my thick shaft, Lauren’s hand gripping my shaft. Seeing my large erection penetrating her vulva was more than I could take.
I lost control. My erection swelled to the point of pain and I came. Semen burned up my shaft as Lauren stroked me. I gasped, “Jesus!” and exploded, semen erupting into Sylvie’s body. One breath and an even harder pulse hit me. It felt like I was dying, cum exploding in a painful spurt, ecstasy pounding me. With all self control lost, I started swelling and spurting, my erection lodged inside her hairless pussy; sweet bliss slamming into me with each glorious eruption of cum. Helpless, my body twitched from the pleasure and, God help me, my erection penetrated Sylvie deeper, sliding in easily; half of me buried inside her ten-year-old body, the other half held by Lauren’s fist. With a hard, hard throb, and my shaft swelling, another exquisite explosion hit, hot semen flooding her. Unable to stop myself, I fucked her tight pussy, thrusting and cumming, thrusting and cumming, fucking Sylvie until I had nothing left. Dry heaves started, almost agonizing, until suddenly, my orgasm passed, releasing me.
Lauren milked my softening erection as if trying to get every last drop inside her daughter.
I was exhausted from the orgasm. Yet, as I relaxed in the afterglow of an intense climax and my softening penis slipped from Sylvie’s pussy, Lauren moved down, easing me aside, and settled between Sylvie’s legs.
She smiled and kissed Sylvie’s pussy. Her mouth moved lower and I heard her suck. Sylvie’s eyes closed. For the next few minutes, I watched Lauren eat her daughter out, Sylvie moaning and undulating her pussy against her mother’s mouth. Sensual wet sounds filled the air. I couldn’t resist leaning over and kissing Sylvie’s cheek.
A small smile formed on her pretty face then faded, a frown creasing her brow. With Lauren eating her, Sylvie’s hands curled into fists, her hips moved faster, and with a small gasp for air, her body paused then churned, her climax arriving.
Laruen groaned loudly. I noticed her butt humping as she ate Sylvie. Her were eyes closed and a familiar expression had emerged; my sister was cumming!
Sylvie cried out her pleasure with cute little mewls, and humped her pussy against her mother’s mouth until she collapsed suddenly, panting, her body limp.
Lauren sighed deeply. Silence arrived.
With the fury of arousal drained from me, while we cuddled together, with Sylvie falling asleep between us, I said to my sister, “I can’t believe that just happened. How did it not hurt her?”
Lauren told me, “She’s been practicing with the dildo. She wanted to surprise you . . .”
“She sure as Hell did!” I exclaimed, interrupting her. Between us, Sylvie shifted in her sleep.
Lauren smiled, stroked Sylvie’s riotous sandy-blonde curls, and continued, “Sylvie wanted to experience what I did when I was her age. Like me, she didn’t cum, but she did when I ate her cute pussy. How did you like it?”
“I’ve been denying the truth, Lauren,” I admitted. “I found that so damn arousing. It brought such good memories back, but this time, with you as part of it - us together - it was so much more exciting. I don’t understand yet, but, God, I liked it.”
Lauren nodded, eyes twinkling. “I’m so glad, Ryan. I’ve wanted you to be a part of this, and now you are. I think we and the girls are going to have some wonderful times ahead.”
That one intimate act with Sylvie broke open the doors to new relationships within the family. I experienced nothing but joy. Sexual attractions that had felt wrong now felt okay. It was liberating and exhilarating, as if released from dark, dank confinement into the summer sun.
Even if I did, Sunday would have removed any last vestiges of doubt that the girls were enjoying themselves just as much as Lauren and I was.
When I emerged for breakfast, Sylvie saw me from her stool, jumped off and ran to me, leaping up into my arms. I held a cute bottom and her back as she hugged me, saying brightly, “I had fun last night. Thanks!” And leaning in, she whispered, “I leaked all night!”
When I groaned at the thought, she giggled and leaned back, her eyes twinkling. “Mom said you’d like it!”
I kissed her smile.
Putting her down, aside from my sister grinning at me, I noticed a frown on Amanda’s face. She was deliberately not looking at me. Walking up to her where she sat on the stool, from behind, I nuzzled her neck, tickling her neck with my unshaven jaw. She giggled softly and tilted her head to protect her neck.
“Morning, sweetheart,” I said, giving her neck another rub.
“Daaaddy! That tickles!” she exclaimed, giggling and trying to lean away.
I moved on to Lauren and kissed her, grabbing her sweet ass in the process. She smiled broadly. With that, all the ladies in my life were happy.
Morning was spent in the snow. I built a fort and the four of us had a snowball war. I won. After lunch, I was comfortably settled in front of the TV, ready to watch football. I wasn’t a fan, but suffered from utter laziness. When Lauren asked me to shop for a few groceries, I declined. She took Sylvie and left.
Amanda arrived in the living room in her winter clothes; a short yellow cotton skirt matched to an embroidered blue T-shirt, her
long red hair pulled back into a scrunchie at her neck. She was, as we all tended to be, barefoot, despite the cold weather outside.
Crawling up onto my lap, she leaned back, her legs hanging to my sides, and asked, “Can we watch something else?”
A few clicks on the remote and I found Tangled. “How about this? Will it do?”
As the movie started, Amanda asked, “Do you love Sylvie more than me?”
Hugging her, I smiled and told her, “No. I love you both the same.”
We watched Tangled in comfortable silence. Without any forethought, I rubbed her bare leg. When my hand brushed against the hem of her short skirt, I registered where my hand was; caressing the inside of her slender, soft thigh. Now distracted, my mind drifted to what it would feel like to touch her cotton panties. Amanda showed no concern as I edged my hand up, easing her skirt higher. And, as I neared her crotch, she casually put her hand over mine and urged it on.
I first touched her panties, then cupped her little pussy. Soft cotton was stretched by spread legs, her pubis small but sexy, mounded and erotic. For the next few minutes I fondled her, an erection forming inside my sweatpants. I loved this. I loved the intimacy, touching her, feeling her little pussy straining against cotton. Almost casually, I caressed her, tracing her small cleft, feeling how lush her little pubis was. Amanda, absorbed by the movie and occasionally giggling, held my hand in place.
I did nothing more than caress her pussy, sometimes running the edge of my index finger along her cleft, sometimes giving her cute pussy a gentle squeeze, and enjoyed the arousal it brought. It was a different excitement, softer and more loving, with none of the urgency extreme horniness causes. This was simple, comfortable intimacy.
But slowly, Amanda’s hand pushed against mine and I rubbed harder, focussing on her clit, soft cotton moving under my finger. She wafted clean shampoo at me, a sweet little-girl scent. And then, with a sweet sigh and her legs twitching gently, Amanda climaxed almost silently, her bum moving just a bit. She relaxed, her body almost melting, and I cupped her crotch, holding her.
It was such a beautiful climax; no hullabaloo, just simple pleasure. And because of it, I adored it.
Lauren and Sylvie retuned, the front door letting in a blast of cold air and snowflakes. They shook off and removed their coats. Lauren looked at me and smiled.
“It’s very deep snow. And so beautiful,” she said. Carrying shopping bags to the kitchen, she added, “Have you ever noticed how quiet it is when it snows?”
Amanda stirred and sat up. “What did you buy?” Without waiting for an answer, she climbed off my lap and went to inspect the groceries.
Lauren commented, “The drive needs plowing.”
“I have a guy who does it every snowfall. He’s probably busy.”
From the quiet of an afternoon spent in front of the television, the house changed into boisterous noise. Sylvie made a grab for a bag of Oreos and Lauren snatched it away before she could get her hands on it.
“Aw, Mom! I’m hungry!”
“Eat some fruit,” my sister replied as Amanda tugged at her arm. She bent. Amanda whispered in her mother’s ear, her hand covering her mouth. Lauren smiled at me, her intense blue eyes twinkling. “He did, did he?”
Amanda, with a firm nod, said, “Uh-huh.” She glanced at me and giggled, dimples and all. I grinned.
“Come and help cook, Picasso,” Lauren ordered.
Thus, noise and laughter and aromas of delectable food filled the room. We ate a delicious deconstructed veal cordon bleu with roasted broccoli and new potatoes. The girls feasted on Two Bite Brownies for dessert and, as a family, we watched TV until bedtime.
It was still snowing on Monday morning. I was deputized to take the girls to school; the snow a bit too much for Lauren’s confidence in her driving abilities. I painted in the study when I returned. Lauren puttered; cleaning the pool, washing laundry, changing sheets, and starting a pot roast for dinner.
Sylvie and Amanda were full of beans when I picked them up. They both loved school. At home, they enthusiastically snacked on Oreos after asking me if they could have some.
Lauren wandered in from the study with papers in her hand, noticed the girls eating cookies and frowned.
“You’re not supposed to eat cookies before dinner,” she admonished.
Showing no loyalty at all, Amanda responded, “Daddy said we could!”
Lauren frowned at me, earning giggles from both girls. Then she looked down at the papers in her hand and said, “Do you have any idea how much we’re paying to have the drive plowed?”
I shrugged. “Ten bucks a week?”
“Fifty dollars a week! That’s two hundred a month, Ryan!”
She studied me for a moment. “You’re healthy and young and have nothing to do. You can plow it from now on. I’m canceling the contract with Rob.”
“Are you kidding? Have you seen how long the drive is?”
“Then buy a snow blower. It’s still cheaper.”
At first putout, I reconsidered. A machine. A machine with an engine. A machine that could blaze through snow and send it flying. Huh. Maybe it could be fun.
Twenty-five minutes later, Lauren was laughing at me as I studied the laptop computer.
“No. Seriously,” I insisted. “This Kubota tractor could be used for snow removal and, with the optional lawn cutting attachment, mow weeds in summer. Look! It even has a kit for . . .”
“Ryan!” she exclaimed, laughing.
Both girls started giggling.
“. . . mulching! No raking anymore! With twenty-five horsepower and a diesel engine it has more torque, which counts when you’re clearing snow. And it has four wheel drive! And it had a reclining seat! Can you believe it?”
“Stop! Enough!” Lauren laughed. “You’re terrible with tools. Why a tractor?”
“It’s a motor, Lauren. You drive it. It makes sounds and goes places. That’s totally different from tools. Tools mean work.”
“And how much does this motor cost?” she asked, smiling.
“Only fifteen thousand! And it comes with a cup holder!”
Lauren’s eyes opened wide. “Fifteen thousand? That’s over twelve years of Rob’s snow clearing services! Forget it!”
“But, Lauren,” I pleaded. “You could clear the drive when I’m sick and I could teach the girls how to mow the lawn in summer. C’mon! Let me buy it.”
“I can order it online! Look!” I exclaimed, turning the laptop screen towards her. “Don’t you love the nice red color? It matches those panties of yours I love so much.”
Lauren burst back into hard laughter, bending. She wiped her eyes. “You’re so sexy when you’re happy,” she gasped.
Grinning, enjoying myself, I suggested, “So let me stay sexy. Let me buy it. Can I? Huh? Pretty please?”
I didn’t mind. I’d had a good laugh. I’d made my sister laugh harder than I could remember, and made the girls giggle. To top it off, I didn’t have to shovel the drive. All in all, a good time!
In bed, Lauren strolled out of the bathroom in sexy red bikini panties and socks, nothing else. I loved the socks.
She pulled her socks off and slipped into bed, moving to my side and with no fanfare, reached under the covers to fondle me. I wasn’t erect at that point, but became erect very, very fast.
“I have a confession,” she said, smiling at me. “I felt your erection swelling and pulsing in my hand when you were cumming inside Sylvie. It really turned me on. Every time I think about it I get so horny. Does it turn you on?” She groped me and smiled broadly when I responded. “I’m so glad it does.”
“Jesus, Lauren,” I groaned, the memory of how tight Sylvie was rushing back.
Releasing my erection, Lauren rolled away and reached into the bedside drawer. Turning back to me, she showed me a small bottle of lubrication.
“I need to know what anal sex feels like. I’ve never had it before. Want to try?” Lauren asked.
The image of my sister’s gorgeous pear-shaped ass came to mind. “I’d love to,” I informed her. “But, it’s not something I’ve had much experience with.”
“How hard can it be? We’ll take it slow. If it’s uncomfortable we’ll stop.”
We kissed and fondled for a while. Lauren wasn’t lying. She was warm and wet; very horny. So was I. Her stroking my erection didn’t help matters.
Separating, I said, “Get on your hands and knees,” and rose to move behind her.
Lauren’s ass was gorgeous. Sculpted buttocks rounded as she bent, her sexy pussy emerging between her thighs, her rosebud showing just above the base of her cleft.
She passed the bottle of lube back to me. Gripping my erection, I shuffled up between her legs and nestled my tip to her cleft, rubbed it up and down, her labia separating so seductively, and, with slight pressure, I penetrated her, sinking deep into her warm embrace. With my erection gripped by her snug pussy, I opened the bottle, poured some into her butt crack, and rubbed it around.
Fucking her gently, slow withdrawals, slow penetrations, I pressed my thumb to her rosebud. Lauren relaxed and it oozed in. I fucked her with my thumb languidly giving her time to adjust.
Easing my glistening erection out of her pussy, I rubbed lube on it, gripped my shaft, and pressed the tip to her tightly closed ass. It looked like an impossible fit and, pressing, it felt like an impossible fit, too. Yet, with steady pressure, the tip of my erection stretched her. Lauren pushed back against me and I watched as her ass oozed over my crown, buttocks sandwiching me and, with a popping sensation, I penetrated her, my erection stiff.
All movement stopped.
Lauren groaned quietly.
“How does it feel?” I asked quietly, the head of my erection gripped very, very tightly.
“It’s really different,” she informed me. “I think I like it.”
Holding her hips, I pulled her ass back towards me and pressed into her. Buttery warmth slowly surrounded my shaft. With small back and forth movements my erection sank into her, her gorgeous buttocks finally nestling against my groin. I was buried inside her, erection pulsing. It felt wonderful. I’d forgotten how sexy anal sex could be.
“Jeez, you’re big,” Lauren murmured. “This feels so different.”
It did. Lauren’s anus was a tight ring gripping my shaft, her insides a warm slippery caress. The sight was so erotic, my erection buried in her ass, her sexy cheeks pressed to my groin, her slender body in front of me.
Holding her hips, I eased my erection out, the shaft glistening with lube, and loved the sight of the rim of my crown oozing out before thrusting in, sweet warmth greeting me. It felt great, so I did it again, and slowly, I started fucking my sister’s ass, long strokes, sexy thrusts, her buttocks slapping against me.
Lauren moaned, dropped onto her elbows, and reached underneath to rub her clit. I fucked her harder, faster, loving the sight of my erection plunging into her sexy butt, stretching her, buried. Lauren trembled. I fucked her harder, loud slapping sounds now louder, my erection swelling and straining.
As tenseness arrived in my gut, pressure in my groin, and I built towards my orgasm, Lauren gasped, “God yes! Fuck me, Ryan!”
I did, arousal driving me higher, erection straining, pleasure arriving. And, just before my orgasm arrived, Lauren gasped.
Her body shook hard. She shoved her sweet ass back at me desperately, fucking me, and cried out her climax, “Oh Gaaawd!”
Before I could join her, she collapsed forward and I followed her down, lying on top of her, her sexy butt pressed to my groin as I fucked her desperately, thrusting and withdrawing, fucking her, fucking her, my hips rolling on her sweet buttocks.
She shook underneath me, climaxing, and I felt the wonderful first heave of release; erection swelling and straining, on the cusp of ecstasy. Pulling my erection out, I settled it between her gorgeous cheeks, thrust and exploded, hot, wet cum spurting between us in an exquisite burst of bliss. Humping her ass, I came again, another powerful surge of pleasure, semen erupting in an almost painful spurt. With little control, I humped her butt, spurting and soaking us with cum, each pulse bringing sweet relief, beautiful pleasure. I came completely, emptying myself, semen slippery and warm between us.
When my pulse rate calmed, when my body melted, when my erection faded, I rolled off Lauren and onto my back next to her.
Lauren, relaxed on her front, looked at me and grinned.
“I love anal sex,” she announced. “And I really loved feeling you cum on me.” She wiggled her butt, still grinning. “Next time, I want to watch you cum on me. I don’t know why, but I find it so deliciously sexy.”
Reaching out, I grabbed my boxers and wiped semen off her ass and lower back. “It would be fun,” I agreed.
Lauren drew the sheet up over us and moved into my arms, cuddling comfortably, her scent of peaches and blossoms filling my nose. I turned the bedside lamp off.
In the silence, her odd phrase came back to mind. “You said you needed to know what anal sex felt like. Not that you wanted to, but needed to. Why?”
Her fingers teased the sparse hair on my chest.
“Sylvie’s been teasing Amanda ruthlessly since she experienced sex with you. Amanda’s not happy. I told her she’s too young for intercourse. Maybe in a couple of years. She was not happy.
“Then I had a thought,” Lauren continued. “She might be too young for intercourse, but maybe she could handle anal sex.”
“Jesus, Lauren! Absolutely not! I can’t believe you’d even consider it!”
“Hear me out,” she said calmly. “I mentioned it to Amanda and she felt better. Never having experienced anal sex, I decided we had to try it.”
“Lauren, you and I having anal sex is nothing close to Amanda having anal sex.”
Lauren calmly continued, “I wanted to know if anal sex was pleasurable. I know it is for a guy . . . for you. But wasn’t sure if I’d get off with it. I did!”
“It’s still different,” I pointed out. “And Amanda’s only eight years old.”
“I know that, Ryan. That’s why I let her have my dildo; to discourage her.”
“Smart. Thank goodness for that.”
“Not really,” Lauren replied. “Sunday morning Amanda showed me she could take the dildo in her bottom to prove she could have anal sex with you. She’s very excited at being the first to try it before Sylvie does.”
“Jeeesus! You’re kidding, right?” I asked. Yet my mind pictured me with little Amanda and I couldn’t deny how it excited me.
“I’m not kidding at all. Next weekend. I promised Amanda we’d try.”
The following week was unusual, to say the least. Every time I lifted Amanda for a hug, I was acutely conscious of how small and cute her bottom was, and couldn’t help becoming aroused at the prospect of anal sex with her.
Both Sylvie and Amanda behaved quite normally; full of energy, laughing and arguing, and playing out in the snow every day.
Sexually, Lauren and I explored new things, driven by my recurring bouts of horniness. She loved watching me pull out of her and cum on her body, semen spurting onto her stomach and her gorgeous pubic bush. She had me straddle her chest as she lay supine, sucking me, stroking me, and bringing me off. She tried to aim me into her open mouth and, for the first exquisite spurt, was successful. But the next, far more powerful spurt, hit her in the eye and, as I came all over her face, Lauren laughed.
When I was done cumming, she commented with twinkling eyes, “No wonder boys have so much trouble peeing into a toilet bowl!”
Every night we had sex or made love, both of us completely comfortable with each other. There wasn’t a trace of embarrassment in our relationship. We rejoiced in our intimacy and I was happier than I’d been since I was fifteen years old. Anal sex became part of our repertoire, my sister loving it.
However, anticipation built inside me through the week. I couldn’t help it, didn’t truly understand it, and didn’t wrestle with it, either. Sylvie and Amanda were perfectly well adjusted girls; loving, affectionate, and impishly fun.
With Veteran’s Day approaching - November 11th - and both girls taking the day off from school, and winter officially here to stay, I informed the family we were going skiing.
Lauren took the news less than enthusiastically, contrary to the girls. Both girls reacted with huge enthusiasm. My sister had never been athletic. It just wasn’t her thing.
Not knowing how they’d take to skiing, we rented equipment. Light snow drifted down from cloudy skies. Watching the three of them clumping along in ski boots was funny, Amanda and Sylvie laughing and enjoying themselves, my sister frowning at my pleasure.
We joined the early skiers on the baby slope and I started to teach. Kids are remarkably fast learners. It took no time for them to get the basics and carefully snowplow their way down the slope, excited and yelling for me to watch them.
Lauren, on the other hand, had two left feet. She wobbled and toppled and glared at my riotous laughter, throwing frowns my way.
“Ryan, you’d better stop laughing!” she exclaimed, adding, “You’re going to pay for this!”
I only laughed harder. She started making threats, my future full of doom; no food, no sex, “You’ll be shoveling the drive by hand all winter if you don’t stop laughing at me!”
Eventually she quit. Announcing it was the dumbest sport ever, she carried her skis off and went to the restaurant for hot tea.
The girls and I skied until lunch and ate at the resort restaurant. Both Sylvie and Amanda were so enthused I took them out again. I’d thought, given Sylvie’s athletic abilities, she’d take to skiing like a duck to water. But, surprising me, it was Amanda who excelled. She studied what other skiers were doing and imitated them, rapidly learning how to ski as if born to it. Sylvie was good, but just that. Amanda had found a new passion in life.
I didn’t realize my mistake until we got home, dusk falling. Two girls were excited, bouncing, and hungry. Then, with full stomachs, they passed out in front of the television - gone to this world. Any sexy plans Amanda and Lauren had were no longer.
In truth, I was tired from skiing all day, too. A brief flirtation with the thought of making love with Lauren dissolved when my head hit the pillow.
Morning wasn’t a stellar success in the Collier house. I ached. Strange muscles in my body, those I didn’t even know I had, hurt. Sylvie and Amanda complained and moaned at breakfast, both moving tenderly. And Lauren got her revenge, laughing at us before passing out Tylenol. She suggested a brisk walk in the snow to work out the aches. Her suggestion was greeted with groans.
With my own comfort in mind, I went in search of a gift I’d been given years ago. I found it in the garage.
The jigsaw puzzle, a Heye puzzle of a hospital, soon had both girls leaning over the coffee table giggling as they found bare bums, lecherous old men, buxom nurses and other crazy scenes. Lauren read a book, smiling at us as we constructed the puzzle, and I had a riot of a time. Nothing comes close to kids having fun in raising my spirit. Their sweetness and glee is addictive.
In fact, so distracted, I forgot about Lauren’s plans until, after turning lights off that night, I strolled into the bedroom to find Lauren in bed with both girls snuggled under the cover, eyes glinting with excitement.
Lauren, smiling at how I’d frozen in the doorway, reached to the bedside table, picked up a small bottle and shook it at me. A familiar feeling hit me; the stir of arousal, blood flowing south, penis stirring.
I stripped, tossing clothes over to a chair and missing it. Naked, I slipped into bed. Amanda wormed her way into my arms, grinning at me with pale honey eyes twinkling. Lauren hugged Sylvie. Then Sylvie turned into her mother’s embrace and they kissed; a deeply sexual kiss, Lauren’s hand caressing Sylvie’s back. The cover was pushed down and Lauren fondled Sylvie’s beautiful, naked small ass.
I caressed Amanda’s slender, petite body. Pulling her to me, my erection pressed against her silken skin. My hand cupped her sexy little ass, my hand spanning both firm, erotic buttocks. Amanda grinned at me and I kissed her grin.
Amanda’s lips were remarkably soft and active. The kiss evolved into a sensual kiss and a familiar fog of desire blossomed in me. I loved kissing Amanda. I loved how petite she was, how young, so exciting. As Amanda’s tongue teased my lips, I edged my fingertips down her sweet bum crack, probing deeper until I touched her hairless pubis, tracing her sexy cleft.
Amanda’s tongue became flirty; brushing mine then retreating, her mouth smiling against my lips. Pale honey eyes twinkled with amusement. Then, as if deciding she’d had enough play, she opened her mouth to me and I fell into a deeply arousing kiss. She raised her leg, hooking her knee over my thigh, opening space for me to fondle her pussy. I did. Amanda’s pussy was supple and soft, her labia silken and closed protecting her clit. I probed and found her clitoris, rubbing gently. Drawing my fingertip down, I touched the entrance to her vagina and Amanda reacted, murmuring and curling her ass back. The tip of my finger penetrated her.
My erection strained against her at the sensation, her pussy gripping me so tightly. I loved it. I loved holding this small, sweet girl, touching her so intimately.
When I returned to her soft clit and rubbed, Amanda started moving slightly, her body caressing my erection. Precum leaked making her skin silky slippery. Pale honey eyes looked at me and I kissed her again, a gentle kiss this time, lips pressing. In my arms, Amanda started moving to my touch, her hips undulating. She hugged my chest and buried her face into me and, in a quiet, sweet climax, she came with soft sighs of pleasure, hips undulating.
Finally looking over at Lauren, I found her and Sylvie watching us, both smiling. Against Amanda’s warm, petite body, my erection strained, thick with arousal and wondered if Lauren was up for sex.
Amanda stirred slowly, extracting herself and rolling towards her mother.
“Ready?” Lauren asked her.
Amanda nodded and moved away from me.
“On your back, Ryan,” my sister directed.
When I did, Sylvie scrambled across me to settle on my right, giving me a flash of her hairless pussy. Lauren moved to my left. Amanda stood at my feet.
Lauren opened the bottle of lubrication, squeezed some into her hand and stroked my erection. Amanda moved up to stand over my hips, staring down. Lauren held my erection upright.
Amanda nodded, “Uh-huh.” She grinned at me and bent her knees, lowering herself. Her little cleft flowered open, her buttocks visible behind.
For the first time, I saw how small she was and, relative to her small body, my erection appeared huge and far too thick.
“No,” I said, struggling to sit up. “She’s too small.”
Lauren pushed me back flat. “Relax, Ryan. That’s why we’re doing it this way. Amanda’s in control.”
Amanda agreed with a grin and nod. “Yeah, relax, Daddy. I’ll stop if it hurts.”
Arousal shaded better judgment. The sight was so damn sexy. I nodded.
Amanda’s small buttocks touched the tip of my erection. It slipped along her pussy to the front. Lauren held my shaft harder. Sylvie moved closer to watch. With my erection jutting up, Amanda sat again, the tip pressing between her cheeks. I felt her move around, lining me up. Then she eased her slight weight down.
Pressure built on the tip, progress nonexistent. She pressed down again and eased off. A cute frown emerged on her face. She concentrated and, unbelievably, her tiny rosebud stretched slightly. With a quick glance at me and a grin, she looked down at her mother’s hand still gripping my shaft and pressed down.
Slowly, so very slowly, Amanda’s bum yielded, my tip oozing into her, almost painfully tight. I felt her edge down to the rim of my head and suddenly, my crown popped into her.
The ring of her bottom gripped my shaft painfully. The sight almost had me cumming. My thick, large erection was penetrating her, stretching her, her body so petite.
A powerful pulse of pleasure hit me, my erection visibly swelling. I was close, ready to cum, but Amanda wasn’t finished. She eased up slightly, the rim just emerging, and reversed, sitting down. A couple of inches disappeared into her! I throbbed again, a strong pulse. Amanda’s bottom was so tight!
“See?” Amanda exclaimed to her mother. “I did it!”
Lauren smiled softly. “How does it feel? Did it hurt?”
“Nope!” She glanced at me, grinned and asked, “How does it feel, Daddy?”
About to answer, she clenched her bum. Jesus! Rising slightly, Amanda pushed down and even more of my erection penetrated her. It was far too much for me to take. I couldn’t get over how erotic and exciting the sight was, or the incredible feeling. I’d never felt anything so tight. Pleasure came in waves, my erection throbbing each time. When Lauren stroked my shaft, I groaned deeply.
Reaching out, I grabbed Amanda and pulled her down on top of me, her knees slipping to my sides. I held her petite body tightly, thrust up, penetrating her little bottom deeper, swelled and exploded, semen erupting in her butt. Holding her, I withdrew and fucked into her bottom, exploding again, cum spurting hard. I lost control. With the rage of my orgasm hitting me, I fucked Amanda and came, swelling and spurting, sweet ecstasy slamming into me. I fucked and spurted, straining with each exquisite release, flooding her tight bum, cumming, cumming until, with a final deep groan of pleasure, my orgasm passed.
We slipped towards December. Snow accumulated; sometimes light fluffy flakes drifting down, sometimes snow storms bringing blizzard-like conditions with biting winds. Much to my surprise, sex did not become a major part of our lives and happened at the oddest times, out of the blue. I also discovered why, when the girls could argue over the smallest thing, they never argued over being with me or their mother.
Lauren and I chatted late on Friday night after a long, languorous session of making love, one of those that starts out fun and frisky and settle into soft and loving, multiple interesting positions ending up in the simple missionary position, moving together, kissing, and experiencing the exquisite bliss of a long delayed orgasm. It was sex that reaffirmed affection and strengthened bonds. And in the post-orgasmic calm, I asked her something that had puzzled me.
“Why has Sylvie never asked to try anal sex?”
“She doesn’t like it. We tried with the dildo and she didn’t like the feeling.” Lauren rolled into my side and played with my chest hair. ”She said she’d try it if you wanted to, but I told her not to offer. She’d do anything you ask, but I know you. You’d feel bad if you found out she only did it to please you.”
“I would,” I confirmed. “So, why don’t they ever argue over who’s having sex with us? Or who comes into our bed at night?”
“There’s a rule. They have to clear it with me first. I keep track so there’s no competition between them and we don’t exhaust you - even though you’ve proven to be very vigorous,” Lauren told me with a smile. “The only exception to the rule is if you instigate sex with one of them. By the way, you never do. Why not?”
I knew why. “Amanda and Sylvie are still too young. I love them being part of our sex life. I mean, I really adore it, more than I should,” I assured Lauren. “But the fact is, we’re still adults in a position of authority. It would be too easy to take advantage of them without realizing it. They’re so damn cute and desirable.”
LAUREN SMILED TO HERSELF. Ryan really was sweet at times, but he didn’t understand females at all.
He didn’t see what she saw; Ryan being so gentle and considerate when having sex with the girls, so careful to make sure they experienced pleasure before he did. He didn’t see when the girls were flirting with him. To him, they were just being loving. They had to hit him over the head to let him know they wanted some sexy play.
“Ryan, the girls are much more independent than you think. If they don’t want to do something with you, they’d tell you. But they’re girls. They want to be pursued and desired. They want you to want them. Think about how much they giggle and laugh when you chase them or wrestle with them; how happy they are. That’s what they want; to be chased.”
“And they’ll be honest if they don’t want to do something?” Ryan asked, still doubtful.
“I promise you they will. I’ve had long chats with them about it.”
“Huh. Imagine that.”
Lauren wondered if this would be the time to confess to Ryan. She’d discovered something about her sexuality, thanks to her brother, and wanted to share it with him. She wondered what Ryan would think of her when he knew. Would it bring them closer? Was it too soon? With a deep breath, she steeled herself and said, “I have a confession, Ryan. I love watching you have sex with them. It makes me so horny. And you know what my favorite part is?”
“What? Do tell.”
Lauren felt her face heat with embarrassment. She couldn’t help her body’s response. It aroused her so powerfully and she didn’t truly understand why. It just did.
“Come on, tell,” Ryan urged.
Taking another deep breath, she said, “The part that drives me nuts is watching your erection when you cum in our girls. I love seeing how your cock swells and pulses when you’re inside them. I love watching each contraction, seeing how thick you are, how much you stretch them, and knowing you’re cumming in them, filling them with your semen, get’s me so horny I could easily climax, too.”
She trailed her hand down his body, under the covers, and gently held his penis. “What does it feel like when you cum inside Sylvie’s small pussy, or in Amanda’s bottom?” she asked. “What does it feel like when you hold their small bodies and feel your orgasm hit? Do you get as excited as I do at having sex with such young girls? How tight do they feel?”
Lauren smiled to herself when Ryan’s penis stirred. She fondled him, loving how it slowly expanded. “You’re really virile. I’m so glad. Did I mention I love sex with you?”
“Jesus, Lauren. You drive me nuts!”
Lauren kissed his chest and stroked his renewed erection. “I have another confession.”
“I don’t think I can handle more of your confessions,” Ryan groaned, his hand caressing her bare buttock.
“For the last two weeks I’ve been helping Amanda. Sylvie’s been helping, too.” She paused, waiting, stroking his erection.
“Helping Amanda how?”
Smiling to herself, feeling the welcome, warm tingle of arousal and excitement return, she said softly, “Amanda was jealous of her sister. She wants to have sex with you, too. I told her she was too young, too small. She was insistent, especially after seeing you and me having sex. Sylvie didn’t help by boasting, either. So, we’ve practiced with the dildo. I promised her she could have intercourse with you if she could take the dildo inside her pussy without hurting herself.”
“Fuuuuck me! You’re kidding, right? She’s only eight years old!”
“Almost nine, actually. And I’m not kidding. Guess what she managed to do this morning?” Lauren held Ryan’s shaft. “Can you imagine how tight she’ll be. Sort of like this.” She gripped and squeezed his erection hard.
“Jeeezuuus,” Ryan groaned.
“And Sylvie and I want to watch when you have sex with her. Amanda’s so excited. I think she’s an exhibitionist at heart.” Lauren stroked her brother’s erection, thick and rigid, so exciting. She loved feeling him so aroused. Her pussy throbbed with small pulses of excitement, arousal, her nipples tender, desire returning.
Pulling the covers off, she moved down and took Ryan’s erection into her mouth, tasting him and herself from sex earlier. She sucked gently, twirling her tongue on the underside of his crown, loving how he reacted, his cock swelling. She eased it deeper, touching the back of her throat, moved her tongue down his shaft, and swallowed, his thick erection stretching her throat. Slowly her mouth edged down his shaft until her lips touched his pubes.
Ryan groaned loudly.
Pulling off, Lauren straddled Ryan’s slim body, studying the intense look of arousal in his soft eyes, a shiver of desire making her nipples tighten. He was so damn sexy. She stroked his erection, then leaned over to kiss him, teasing him with her tongue and letting him taste her. She moaned quietly, opening her mouth, kissing him passionately. God, she loved him. She shivered again when he cupped her breasts, tweaking her sensitive nipples, caressing her, a gentle squeeze sending bolts of pleasure through her.
When the kiss ended, she leaned over further and, with her hand between her thighs caressing his erection, whispered, “I love sex with you, Ryan. I love sex with the girls. I love their young bodies, their hairless pussies.”
Guiding the tip of his cock back through her cleft, over her clit, she positioned him at her entrance. Whispering in his ear, “I love watching you have sex with our girls, seeing your thick cock penetrating them. It turns me on every time.”
Ryan groaned, his arms wrapping around her, cock swelling.
Lauren slowly pressed down, his cock stretching her vagina beautifully, penetrating her, filling her, sparks of pleasure radiating up from her pussy. “I can’t wait to see you with Amanda. I can’t wait to see her little pussy stretched by your cock, actually penetrating her, fucking her,” she whispered, rising slightly and pressing down, taking him in completely, his tip touching the ache she felt deep inside.
“I want to see your cock squeezed by her little pussy,” she murmured, now fucking her brother slowly, bolts of welcome pleasure flooding her body. “I want to watch your cock as you make love with her.”
Ryan gripped her ass and thrust up into her, waves of pleasure blossoming, strengthening. She caressed her clit, shuddering with pleasure, her nipples rubbing on his chest.
“And I want to see you cum in her,” she murmured. “See your cock swell, hear your moan of pleasure, and watch each pulse of cum as you climax, spurting inside her tight little pussy.”
She fucked him harder, her pussy slippery with his semen from earlier. Slapping sounds filled the air as he fucked her back, gripping her ass, thrusting, penetrating her so deeply.
“I want to watch as you fill her little pussy with semen and see it ooze out of her hairless cleft when you pull out. I want to see the river of thick cum run down through her buttocks and collect on the bed.”
“Jesus Christ!” Ryan gasped.
He fucked her hard, thrusting up, pounding into her. Caressing her clit, Lauren’s climax slammed into her. Gasping, vagina clenching, body shaking, Lauren came, bliss crashing through her, wave after wave of ecstasy. She gasped and came, her body aching beautifully. And, as she peaked, she felt Ryan’s thick erection swell and pulse rhythmically, cumming in her. Heart pounding, Lauren rode her climax to the end, collapsing and exhausted, her body limp from one of the most powerful orgasms she’d ever experienced.
MY BODY COMPLAINED WHEN I woke up on Saturday, as if I’d run a marathon. Then again, I had; sex twice with Lauren last night was incredible. Lauren was a constant source of surprises. She was an elegant woman, yet when she talked dirty during sex, she could turn me on like no one else. I adored the duality of her character - refined yet raunchy, sophisticated yet intensely carnal. We’d discovered a mutual, illicit attraction to our young girls and it thrilled me.
I thought about what she’d told me; me chasing Sylvie and Amanda, pursuing them, initiating sex. What an exciting prospect!
Lazing in bed, I remembered Lauren’s comment about Amanda and an erection formed immediately. Could I really have intercourse with her without hurting her? Sex with an eight-year-old? Was it really possible? Damn, the thought of it was so erotic!
With a firm erection, I rolled out of bed and hit the shower.
Lauren and the girls were chatting and laughing at the kitchen island when I emerged. Lauren’s eyes sparkled with excitement, so beautiful. I approached, bent to kiss her cheek.
“Morning,” I said, and groped her gorgeous ass in pale grey sweatpants, loving the shape of her buttock.
When I squeezed and pinched her glorious glute, Lauren jerked.
“What?” I asked, trying to play innocent.
Two girls giggled. Sylvie exclaimed, “Dad pinched your bum!”
With a sneaky grin, I turned to both of them. “Your turn,” I threatened, moving towards them.
Amanda and Sylvie screamed and jumped off their stools, making a break for the bedrooms. I gave chase, loving their busy little bottoms in pajamas. Catching Amanda, I bundled her under one arm after groping her little butt. She giggled furiously, such a sweet sound. Carrying her easily, I ran after Sylvie. She darted into her bedroom and tried to close the door. Too late.
I pushed the door open. Sylvie screamed and raced to her bed, leaping onto it. I caught her, tumbling onto the bed, and as she struggled, giggling furiously, I groped her small ass.
“Stooop!” she yelled, giggling.
“Nope. I want to kiss your butt!”
Sylvie, now laughing hard, tried to stop me when I grabbed her pajama bottom and tugged. Grinning, I yanked the back of her pajamas and cotton panties down, and kissed two delightful small, bare buttocks. She tried to escape. I held her down and sucked one cheek, cool and firm against my mouth.
When I let her go, as she tried to pull her panties and pajamas back up, Amanda exclaimed, “He gave you a hicky on your bum!” and burst into giggles.
Sylvie stopped and twisted, studying her bottom.
I didn’t wait. Grabbing an amused Amanda, I yanked her pajamas down, pushed her face down on the bed and gave her little buttock a hicky as she wriggled to escape, giggling furiously.
By the time I rolled over onto my back, Lauren was standing in the doorway smiling at us.
“Look, Mom!” Sylvie exclaimed. “Look what Dad did to me!” She pointed at her bum.
“And me!” Amanda exclaimed. “See?”
“Careful,” I warned. “I might give you one, too!”
The day was off to a fine start. Over coffee, Amanda begged me to take her skiing. Sylvie and Lauren weren’t as enthusiastic, claiming they’d prefer to stay home.
By mid-morning, Amanda and I were in the ski shop buying her ski equipment. Amanda was enthused, her pale honey eyes sparkling with excitement at new ski boots and skis. On the slope, she amazed me with her ability to learn. We moved off the baby slope to steeper runs. I kept an eagle eye on her, needlessly as it turned out. She was at home on skis; a complete natural. It was clear she was going to outclass me in the very near future.
Happily tired, with wind-flushed red cheeks, she chatted away as we drove home mid-afternoon, then, over a mug of hot chocolate, she regaled Lauren with every new trick she’d learned, her hands active, demonstrating her turns when she slalomed down the slope.
Lauren smiled with pride. To me, she said, “I think Amanda has found a new passion.”
“We should sign her up for skiing lessons over the Christmas vacation,” I suggested.
Amanda’s eyes popped wide open. “Really? Can I? I have my own skis now!”
“We’ll see,” her mother replied.
With Amanda racing off to tell her sister, I asked Lauren, “What did you and Sylvie do while we were gone?” A very slight blush on her cheeks intrigued me.
Lauren smiled. “Go shower. We’ll talk when you’re back. Would you like some tea?”
I nodded and left. By the time I returned, clean and refreshed, wearing my ratty Tee and comfortable sweatpants, Sylvie and Amanda were deep into a movie, slouched in odd positions on the couch. Lauren poured tea into mugs and we sat at the kitchen island counter.
“So, tell me,” I urged. “What did you do today?”
We talked quietly, as an occasional giggle or laugh floated over to us from the living room couch.
“Sylvie and I cleaned the study this morning,” Lauren said. “I can’t believe how dusty it gets! And you should put a drop cloth down when you paint. We couldn’t remove all the splatters.
“When we’d finished, we went for a swim.” Lauren’s lips curled in a small smile. “We skinny-dipped.”
She leaned closer to me. “It became rather sexy, too.”
“How?” I asked, now very interested.
With eyes twinkling at me, my sister continued. “After playing and splashing around, and swimming for a while, Sylvie sat sideways on my lap when I sat on the stairs. She asked me if she could try ice skating. Is there an ice rink in Steamboat Springs?”
“Good question. I’ve no idea,” I responded. “I’ll check on the Web.”
“Anyway, as we talked,” Lauren continued. She paused to sip her tea. “Sylvie put her hand on my breast and rubbed casually. We talked about you and how happy we were here. She caressed me. It was so sweet and innocently sexy. Her touch started turning me on. I touched her small pussy and caressed her while we talked. She has such a beautiful pussy, Ryan. It’s almost delicate. When she’s sitting, her cleft is closed, so when I probe with a finger, her small labia hug my finger. It’s so erotic, such a turn on.”
She took another sip of tea, smiled and said, “Your tea is going cold.”
Jogged back to the present, I sipped.
“Where was I? Have you noticed how sweet Sylvie’s murmur is when she’s aroused? She becomes all soft and cuddly and I love it,” my sister said, smiling. “Well, I got horny, too, so we dried off and went to her bedroom. Together, on her bed, we kissed and touched each other.”
Lauren sighed. “I love it when Sylvie sucks my breasts. It reminds me of when she was a baby and brings out such strong feelings. She made my nipples ache. I played with her clit. She slowly got horny and slippery. It’s almost as good a sensation as when I feel your precum. Then she touched my pussy. Her touch is very gentle, very different from anyone else. It was natural for us to move into oral sex. She straddled me on top and, as I ate her very clean pussy, she did the same for me. I think we both could have cum at that point, but I suggested we rub our pussies against each other; something we hadn’t tried before.”
I held my breath, an erection forming as I tried to imagine the two of them, one on top of the other, writhing together.
“Sylvie moved down, her head at the foot of the bed, and we scissored each other, her legs towards me, our pussies pressed together. Then we moved, humping each other slowly, her pussy rubbing my clit, my pussy rubbing hers, and slowly I got to that delicious point where I’m close to cumming; right on the cusp, my body tense.
“I reached down to where we were touching and, before I could rub her little clit, Sylvie climaxed. It was so cute. I adore her quiet grunts. Sylvie humped my pussy fast and I came too, caressed by her sexy movement. It was wonderful, Ryan. Cumming with my daughter is an intense experience. I wish you could experience it.”
She smiled at me. “One day you should see us do it.”
With a glance at her watch, she called out, “Amanda, come help make dinner.”
“Aw, Mommy! We’re watching television!”
“Your sister helped clean the study today. Now it’s your turn to help.”
Amanda muttered and frowned, then grinned at my smile of amusement. I went to sit with Sylvie, still aroused at the thought of her and Lauren. In my mind, I could picture it so clearly.
Sylvie snuggled close, then got up and left the living room. I had to smile at her summery, flower-printed blue and yellow dress. It was mid thigh length with a small belt tightening the waist. I was beginning to see her small quirks; loving physical soccer and volleyball, yet dressing very feminine. Summer clothes in winter was her style.
She returned and sat in my lap, watching TV, stretched out and leaned back against me, grabbing my hands and pulling my arms around her. Her untamable sandy-blonde hair tickled my face despite it being pulled back and tied at the base of her neck. I kissed her hair. She smelled of fruity shampoo.
While we watched a television sitcom, noise of pots and chopping and conversation reached me.
Maybe I was still aroused by Lauren’s recounting of her sexy play with Sylvie. I remembered her telling me I should pursue the girls, so I moved my hand down and stroked Sylvie’s bare thigh. Edging my hand up, my arousal strengthened. To me, the thought of reaching under a young girl’s skirt to touch her intimately, to feel her panties and the sexy shape of her pussy, was intensely exciting.
Sylvie didn’t stop me, her attention on the television. And then, as the edge of my finger nudged to her crotch, a surge of excitement hit me; a wave of arousal. Sylvie wasn’t wearing panties! I touched her hairless pussy, lightly tracing its amazing shape, rounded and plump despite being so small. With her legs together, I could only rub the side of my finger against her short cleft. The pressure of her bottom against my erection felt wonderful.
I kissed her hair again. Sylvie wiggled her bum against my erection.
For several minutes I stroked her cleft, and then it happened. I felt silky moisture at the base of her slit; Sylvie aroused! Sylvie horny! I loved it. I loved feeling a ten-year-old get sexually aroused. It struck a chord in me that brought powerful desires to the forefront.
Sylvie wiggled her bottom, then rolled off and stood. She grinned at the prominent outline of my erection inside sweatpants, leaned over and tugged the waist down. Lifting my butt, she pulled my sweats and boxers down to mid thigh, my erection slapping up against my stomach.
Satisfied, she turned and hiked the back of her skirt up exposing her exquisite small ass, and settled on me, lying back, her cool buttocks sandwiching my erection. She moved around.
“This isn’t comfortable,” she announced, lifting her butt and reaching behind. She moved my erection, pulling it up between her thighs and settled back, squeezing her legs together.
I slipped down on the couch, my ass moving towards the edge. My erection was lodged between her thighs and against her pussy. But it was the sight of my cock tenting her dress at her crotch that really got me going. It was titillating and so damn illicit.
“Much better,” she told me.
I wrapped my arms around her petite body and relaxed, enjoying the gentle throb of my erection, the sexiness of our position. This was the first time we’d done anything so blatantly sexual in the open.
Then Sylvie moved. She eased her pelvis up and down slightly, caressing my erection. For the next few minutes she watched TV and I watched her move, the tent at her crotch disappearing then forming again as she casually humped me.
It was heaven. My cock pulsed with pleasure. Suddenly precum changed the sensation completely. My crown glided, a silky caress against her pussy. Sylvie humped slowly and precum spread, her legs tight together.
It felt like we were fucking; a warm slinky caress, her small buttocks flexing against me. Noise of cooking came from behind. The experience was intense, and it got stronger.
Sylvie reached down and edged the hem of her dress up, then touched my tip, pulling my erection against her pussy. Holding me tight with her fingers, she humped me faster, masturbating her pussy against my shaft. More precum leaked.
To me, it felt like we were fucking, the sensations so intense, her crotch so warm. Then she pushed my crown down to rub against her clitoris. A pulse of pleasure released even more precum and we were very slippery.
She started breathing faster, humping my erection. I strained, thick and rigid, thinking it couldn’t get better than this; secret sexy play in the middle of the living room, Amanda and Lauren unaware of what was going on. But it became much, much better!
Lifting her hips, Sylvie, with fingertips, pushed my crown deeper between her legs. She tilted her pelvis and I was swamped with sensations. Small labia pressed against my crown. I felt her cleft ooze around my tip. Fingers pushed harder, forcing me deeper, and I just about came as Sylvie’s small pussy yielded, my crown penetrating her, a velvet vise gripping me. My cock throbbed hard, swelling, aching.
Another tilt of her hips and I penetrated her deeper, her vagina edging down to wrap a third of my erection in molten heat.
I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. Reaching down, I held her narrow hips and started moving, fucking her gently, her snug velvety vagina massaging me. I couldn’t penetrate her deeper, but the little I did was fantastic!
Sylvie sighed. She fucked me, undulating her hips up and down, guided by my hands. My erection strained, thick, straining. So damn arousing! Waves of pleasure washed through me with each beautiful penetration and each sensual massage when I withdrew. Silently, we fucked each other, Sylvie so petite lying on top of me.
Her hand was moving under her dress, stroking her clit. I could hear her breathing harder, feel her undulations transition from humping to twitching, and knew she was close to climaxing. Suddenly, all movement stopped. Her tight vagina began to contract rhythmically as she came, gripping and relaxing on my erection, gripping and relaxing. She moaned quietly, her body trembling.
Without moving, without control, my cock swelled massively, semen charging up and, with a strong pulse of utter pleasure, I came, spurting hard. With her tight pussy milking me, I swelled and exploded again, cum erupting with exquisite release, her vagina so tight. Not moving intensified my orgasm. I felt every amazing throb, every incredible spurt, cumming with fast pulses, semen erupting, bliss swamping me. The intensity grew, peaked, and with weakening pulses, small spurts, my orgasm passed leaving me empty and sated, pulse racing. It thrilled me; sex in the open without Lauren and Amanda aware was a new and exciting experience.
Sylvie sighed deeply. My penis softened. As it was squeezed out of her tight pussy, Sylvie reached down under her dress. She rolled off me and, cupping her crotch, left the living room. I pulled my sweatpants back up.
A delectable Shepherd’s pie for dinner, sex twice last night, a day of skiing, and sex again with Sylvie, took its toll. I fell asleep in front of the TV.
Sounds of loud, angry voices woke me up. Amanda and Sylvie were yelling at each other from down the hall. Gunnery Sergeant Lauren’s voice rose above the commotion.
“Enough! Sylvie, go to your room!”
Indistinct quiet talking started.
I knew better than to get in the middle of it. Exhausted, I stood, turned the TV off and the lights out and headed to bed.
Lauren eventually entered the bedroom, a stern expression on her elegant face, lips pressed together. Oh-oh.
She looked at me, pulling her arms inside the Tee and pushing up and off. “You’ve got your work cut out for you,” she said, pushing her sweats down. “I understand you and Sylvie had some fun in the living room while Amanda and I cooked dinner. Amanda’s pissed off at you and Sylvie.”
She folded her clothes. I watched, appreciating how sexy she was in a lovely white lace bra and matching panties. I liked watching her ass move as she walked into the bathroom, the door left open.
“Why?” I asked.
There was no reply. I heard her pee, toilet flush, listened to water run in the sink, and eventually, she emerged, fortunately without the stern expression.
She reached behind her and opened her bra, shrugging it off, scratching under her breasts, then pulled a nightshirt on before slipping into bed.
On her side, she said, “In case you forgot, Amanda had some plans for you tonight.”
“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I forgot. But you told me to chase the girls and initiate sex with them. You said that’s what they wanted.”
Lauren smiled slightly and shook her head. “From what Sylvie told me, she crawled onto your lap.”
“And somehow, she’d lost her panties?”
I nodded again.
“Ryan, you can be such an idiot at times. You didn’t seduce Sylvie. She seduced you!”
“But I made the advances!” I pointed out, beginning to feel bad for both Sylvie and especially Amanda.
Lauren leaned close and kissed me. “You’re cute. Clueless but cute. Tomorrow, you’ve a huge challenge ahead. You’ve got to placate a really teed off Amanda.”
Amanda really was pissed at me. She didn’t look at me when I emerged in the morning. Sylvie was looking contrite, too. Lauren had informed me Sylvie was being punished, her punishment being not allowed into our bed until further notice. Lauren had also put me on notice.
“If you pay any attention to Sylvie tomorrow, you’re in the dog house, too!”
So, when Lauren’s back was to me, I grinned and winked at Sylvie. She grinned back at me and, as her mother turned, assumed a serious face again.
Amanda was a challenge of a different sort. She proved to be remarkably chilly, not reacting to my comments at breakfast and disappearing into her bedroom as soon as she’d finished. Clearly I’d goofed big time.
Lauren gave me a meaningful look. With a mug of coffee in hand, I followed Amanda and found her sitting on her bed, legs crossed. She frowned at my entry. I sat on the edge of the bed.
“I guess I goofed up yesterday,” I said.
Amanda shook her head. “Sylvie did. She did it deliberately. I hate her!”
Smiling, I told her, “No you don’t. You’re angry with her but you don’t hate your sister.”
“It really was my fault, Amanda. What say you, we both pretend today is Saturday and do it over?”
Amanda’s pale honey eyes looked at me. “Even skiing?”
I nodded. “Even skiing.”
“Kay! Let’s go!”
I had to grin as she scrambled off the bed. Amanda was such a sweetheart. Even when arguing with her sister, there wasn’t a mean bone in her body.
As she pulled out her clothes, she said, “Get going, Daddy! Go change!”
I went to the kitchen and told Lauren about the plan. She smiled in approval. Passing by a pouting Sylvie on the couch watching TV, I bent and kissed her head and whispered, “I found a skating rink in town. Next weekend we’ll go.”
Pale blue eyes looked up, glittering with pleasure. She smiled. “Kay! And I promise to behave all week!”
Walking to the bedroom, Lauren called after me. “What did you say to Sylvie?”
Amanda and I skied all morning, broke for lunch and continued into the early afternoon. Amanda amazed me. With each passing hour her skill visibly developed. Still a beginner, there was no doubt in my mind she’d discovered her sport. She took instruction seriously and practiced studiously, always with a big grin on her pretty face, cheeks red from cold and wind, her long red hair fluttering out from under her helmet.
By mid-afternoon we were home and I was determined to behave myself. Sylvie was nowhere to be seen. Lauren was reading on the couch. She looked up with a smile when we entered.
“How was it?” she asked.
Amanda, still full of excited energy, shrugged out of her winter jacket and boots, dumped them on the floor and ran over to her mother, jumping onto the couch. “I went down the Intermediate slope, Mommy! And you know what?”
“What?” Lauren asked, caressing her hair.
“I only fell twice!”
I hung her jacket up, let them chat and went for a shower, feeling pleasantly tired.
Later, after dinner, I was pretty sure any plans Amanda and Lauren had were put off. Amanda fell asleep on the couch as we watched TV. Sylvie had emerged from her room, still frowning and shoving at her wild sandy-blonde hair. She didn’t talk to her mother or me. I managed to get a small smile out of her by playing footsie with her at the table, but that was all.
I was wrong.
In bed, waiting for Lauren, a reinvigorated Amanda raced into the room and dived onto the bed, all smiles and energy and excitement.
Welcoming the bundle of sweetness into bed, I asked, “Where’s your mother?”
“She’s sleeping with Sylvie.” With a more serious expression, she informed me, “They have stuff to work out.”
Smiling and drawing her to me, I said, “Stuff?”
“Uh-huh. That’s what Mommy said. And she said not to wait for her. And she said for me to have fun. And she said I’m in charge. And she said . . .”
Too damn cute! I kissed her to stop her talking. Amanda grinned against my lips, then kissed me back.
“. . . And she told me to wear my favorite pajamas,” Amanda continued. “Do you like them?”
I studied her blue flannel pajamas printed with colorful Dory and friends, and nodded, commenting, “I thought you wanted your mom and sister here with us.”
Amanda nodded, serious. “I did. But Sylvie wasn’t nice.”
“Maybe you should forgive her.”
“I dunno,” she answered with a cute frown.
Smiling, I suggested, “If you forgive her, I promise I’ll make sure you and I catch up. We’ll have some fun skiing together again, alone without your sister.”
Amanda considered it. Then she grinned. “And we’ll skinny dip together? Without Sylvie?”
“Kay!” She scooted out of bed. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere!”
Amanda ran out of the bedroom. I had to smile. Pissed off or not, she loved her sister too much to let arguments come between them.
Two minutes later, Amanda dashed back into the bedroom and dived onto the bed, smiling broadly. “They’re coming!” Then she grinned. “Mom and Sylvie were nekkid!”
Before I could comment, Lauren, gloriously “nekkid“ and smiling, entered the bedroom leading an equally “nekkid“ Sylvie by the hand. Sylvie sported a serious expression. Her azure eyes looked at me.
“Well?” Lauren asked as they both stood at the side of the bed.
Sylvie looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry, Dad. I shouldn’t have done that to Amanda.”
“I don’t need an apology, Sylvie. It was my fault, too. But your sister does deserve an apology.”
Sylvie looked at her sister. “Sorry, Amanda.”
“S’okay! I don’t mind,” Amanda responded generously. “I got to ski again today!”
With Lauren smiling slightly, Sylvie scrambled into bed, saying, “I get to try ice skating next weekend! Wanna come?”
I smiled again. Siblings naturally want to forgive. I know I did with Lauren. Lauren’s startling deep blue eyes looked at me. She mouthed, “Thank you,” and slipped into bed.
Life in the Collier house was back on an even keel.
I wasted no time. Gathering Amanda in my arms, I kissed the charming imp. She grinned again, touched my lips with the tip of her tongue and wriggled away from me.
Lauren hugged Sylvie, both facing me. Amanda squirmed and tossed a pajama top off the bed, squirmed again and tossed pajama bottoms off the bed, then squirmed some more.
“Ta-da!” she exclaimed, throwing white cotton panties aside.
Damn she was cute! I shucked my boxers and gathered her again, her warm naked skin so sensual against me. She felt wonderful in my arms, sweet and petite, exciting, her pale honey eyes twinkling with pleasure. Cupping her naked bottom, so delightfully small and round, I kissed her gently. Soft arousal flowed in like a gentle summer breeze.
I didn’t wrestle with why Amanda, so very young, turned me on. It was a comfortable feeling. Knowing Lauren felt the same way let me relax completely and enjoy our sexy play. Amanda exhibited such a childish joy at intimacy, too.
She teased me with the tip of her tongue, then giggled when she closed her mouth as I tried to probe, her eyes twinkling with mischief. I forgot about Lauren and Sylvie as I kissed Amanda, her small mouth pressing to me. Her eyes smiled. Her tongue met mine. We kissed slowly and, as I caressed her sexy little ass, she opened her mouth to me and I fell into a deeply sexy French kiss.
Amanda responded by rubbing herself against my erection. I traced the sweet valley formed by cute buttocks, and with mounting excitement, touched her hairless pussy from behind. Her cleft was very short, tightly closed. Ending the kiss, I brought my hand up and sucked it, covering it in saliva, then returned to her sexy cleft, spreading saliva along her slit.
Amanda’s smile slowly faded. Her little labia gradually parted to hug the tip of my stroking finger and I touched her clit. Rubbing gently, Amanda cuddled into me. She sighed quietly.
For the next few minutes I did no more than caress her clit. But then I probed below, deeper into her, and touched the entrance to her vagina; a very small, moist, and warm sensation.
She moved, humping my fingertips slightly and I experienced the amazing feel of her tiny vagina slowly stretching, my fingertip slowly penetrating her to the first knuckle, held tightly in a silken grip. Kissing her, I fucked her gently, my fingertip slipping deeper with each move until I was penetrating her to the second knuckle.
Excitement rushed in when I thought she might actually be able to take me; I might actually be able to penetrate her! Testing, I added a second finger, stretching her. God she was tight. Watching for any sign of discomfort, I saw none, just Amanda’s relaxed, pretty face.
Desire for more urged me on. Easing away from her, I rolled her onto her back and kissed my way down her little body; kissing each small areola, her soft stomach, each prominent little hip, and then the soft, sensual pad of her mons. It was plump and yielded against my lips. I teased the top if her hairless cleft with my tongue and moved down, settling between her legs.
Amanda’s pussy was so sexy. Even with her legs spread, her cleft was tightly closed, a sexy line that merged with the crack of her bottom, her buttocks swelling where they pressed to the bed. On her petite body, her pubis appeared large, a sexy ripe peach, and when I kissed her cleft, her soft, soft labia pressed to my lips. A surge of desire hit me, my erection now straining. Slowly, to make my pleasure last, I eased the tip of my tongue between her lips and touched her soft clit. Rubbing it, Amanda sighed quietly.
“I like that, Daddy.”
Backing off, I eased her labia apart and exposed the glossy smooth interior. How had two fingers fit inside her? The entrance to her vagina was incredibly small! I had to see.
Pressing my fingertip at her entrance, I watched as she dilated slowly, my finger oozing into her, her labia forming around me. God it was sexy! Trembling slightly, I kissed her clit, tasting her clean yet slightly earthy arousal. With slow suction and a teasing tongue rub, I finger-fucked her. Amanda moaned quietly. She moved, rubbing her hairless pussy against my mouth, each movement pressing my finger deeper into her. I added a second finger, stretching her and she responded, pressing her pussy, taking both inside, her vagina so tight.
With two fingers in her pussy and sucking her clit, I pressed my thumb between her small buttocks, found her rosebud and pressed again. Just as I penetrated her bottom, Amanda climaxed. She gasped, her body twitching, then scrubbed her pussy against my mouth, humping me fast and furiously with cute, quiet grunts of pleasure. I rode her climax until with a final strain of her little body, Amanda went limp, her legs falling, spread apart on the bed.
As she lay there, relaxed and at peace, her eyes closed, I looked at her pussy. Her labia were flushed, cleft open, her clit larger. Plump lips framed the very small dark entrance to her vagina at the base and, when I wondered what it would actually feel like to penetrate her, actually have sex with an eight-year-old, I almost lost control. I so wanted to try.
Lauren broke my haze of horniness, her hand distracting me. She passed me the bottle of lubrication, smiling, excitement and arousal plain in her eyes.
When I dribbled some on Amanda’s little pussy, she shivered. “It’s cold.”
With more poured into my hand, I spread it on my erection, silky and slippery. Rising to my knees, I reached up and grabbed a pillow, placing it under her small butt, raising her pussy to an easier height. I shuffled up between her legs.
It was impossible. Her little pussy made my erection appear so thick; much, much too big for her. It would have to hurt and for a moment, I almost stopped. But the rage of desire, the powerful erotic allure of sex with her was too strong, too exciting.
I gripped my shaft and touched the tip of my straining erection to her cleft. Jesus I was big! With the tip, I spread the lube up and down her slit, marveling at how her little labia bulged seductively. Rubbing up and down, I pressed. Soft lips hugged my tip, then spread slowly. Her clitoris kissed the inflamed crown as it filled her cleft below.
My heart raced. I was wider than her little pussy, filling the gap at her crotch, and yet I couldn’t stop pressing forward. Amanda’s small labia stretched to circle the rim of my crown. Against my tip, I felt nothing; no entrance, no yielding, just warmth and silky moisture.
Uncertainty came back. I glanced at Amanda. She smiled. Watching her face, I pressed harder. Nothing. Gripping my shaft tightly, I pressed even harder.
I had to look down! With excruciating slowness, I actually felt the tiny entrance to her vagina stretch. First, her labia eased over the rim of the flared tip to hug my shaft. Against my tip, her entrance stretched and edged down, squeezing me very tightly. Holding my shaft even harder, I pressed forward. Unbelievably, Amanda’s pussy stretched and my crown popped in, gripping me so damn tightly it was almost painful!
“See?” she said, looking down. “I knew it would go in! And it didn’t hurt at all!”
Lord have mercy!
With the pillow under her bottom, Amanda was at the perfect height. I couldn’t stop myself from withdrawing slightly to see the edge of my crown ooze out, then pressing into her tight, tight pussy again, this time slipping slightly deeper. Jesus it felt good! With great care, battling the pounding desire to be selfish, I fucked Amanda gently, each slow press penetrating her stretched pussy deeper until, with two inches of my shaft inside her, I saw her wince.
She saw my look of concern and smiled.
With my erection throbbing, I held her little waist and gently fucked her, staring at the amazing sight of my thick erection as it almost came out, then her small pussy bulging as I stroked back in. I had a hard time processing it; actually having intercourse with her!
Desire ravaged me, driving up pressure inside me. Knowing how much she could take, I pulled the pillow from under her, tossing it to the side, and then experienced something completely new.
Leaning over her, I settled some of my weight on her, her arms hugging my chest. Underneath me, Amanda was so small, her head not reaching my chin. Her thighs were spread to my sides, knees bent and pressed to the bed. Holding some of my weight off her, I eased my aching erection out of her slightly and pressed back in, her vagina gripping me so, so tightly.
Movement of the bed drew my attention. Lauren was moving down to watch from below.
I looked down at Amanda. “Are you all right like this?” I asked, my pulse racing, erection throbbing.
“Uh-huh. You can lie down more if you want.”
Settling a bit more weight onto her delicate body, completely lost in how she felt underneath me, how erotic and thrilling it was, I started fucking her gently; short, slow, exquisitely pleasurable strokes. I drowned in the excitement of sex with Amanda, loving the feel of my thick erection easing out and oozing into her little pussy, gripped tighter than anything I’d experienced in my life. I fucked her slowly wanting it to last forever. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. It was too damn sexy.
Forgetting about her pleasure, I fucked Amanda with steady, glorious strokes, just the top third of my cock penetrating her. I let that wonderful feeling of a stirring orgasm wash through me, thrusting, withdrawing, fucking her. My cock strained, so thick, so hard. And, as my orgasm arrived, I let myself go. Erection swelling to the point of aching, and Amanda’s little pussy gripping me so tightly, a burst of pleasure hit. Cum burned up my shaft. I felt my crown expand, and with a groan of utter ecstasy, I came, spurting hard into her. Before I could inhale, another massive wave slammed into me. I shoved into her tight vagina, cock swelling, and came again in an endless, intense explosion of semen, erection straining, bliss erupting. The full fury of my climax arrived. With short, beautiful thrusts, fucking Amanda faster, I came hard, cock expanding, spurting, sweet release with each glorious pulse of cum. I fucked her, flooding her little vagina, pulsing and spurting, until I ran dry, final heaves making my gut hurt, and collapsed suddenly, done, drained, sated.
LAUREN CLOSED HER EYES and, strumming her clit, climaxed hard, hard, her body straining. She could still see it in her mind’s eye; Ryan’s thick cock stretching Amanda’s hairless little pussy, thrusting into her, actually fucking her, her small buttocks pressed down on the bed. Lauren’s climax pounded her, pleasure radiating up from her pussy, her nipples aching as she relived seeing Ryan’s big erection swell and throb. She’d seen every pulse of cum race up his shaft, each strain of his release as he’d filled Amanda’s pussy. But it was watching him slowly pull his still thick cock out of Amanda and seeing her cleft gaping open, then slowly closing as a flood of thick white semen oozed out of her eight-year-old pussy that took her over the top, cumming immediately, uncontrollably. Nothing had excited her so much.
IF I THOUGHT SEX was going to play a dominant role in our family life, now that we’d all had sex together, I was wrong. Lauren and I had an active and healthy sex life. Our lovemaking was frequent and varied. But the girls’ sexual needs were much less. They wanted cuddling and kissing; to be loved and desired. Occasionally they wanted more and they’d join us in bed for some sexy fun. I didn’t mind. I loved sex with my sister. I loved sex with the girls, too, but it was easier for me to let them take the lead; intimacy when they needed it.
The weekend after Amanda and I had sex, I took everyone ice skating. Sylvie and Amanda were excited. Lauren only agreed to go after the girls begged her. Like skiing, Lauren didn’t take to the ice.
None of us had ever ice skated before. It was a Marx Brothers routine. Amanda and I slipped and fell all over the place, with plenty of laughter. Sylvie and Lauren did the same, Sylvie laughing hard whenever her mother fell on her ass. But, over almost an hour, we found our way, making small improvements until we could almost skate, bent over at the waist, arms out for balance, and other skaters flashing by with utter and annoying ease.
Ice skating is an unpredictable sport. It lulls you into complacency, gives you a taste of what it might feel like it you could actually skate properly; then, as soon as you think you’ve got it, it slaps you in the ass.
It did with Lauren. She managed to stay up, rather unsteadily, and skate all of six yards and her feet shot out from under her. She crashed down on her ass, Sylvie laughing. But, when I saw her face grimacing with pain, I worked my way over to her.
She was cradling her arm. “I think I broke something,” she informed me.
Indeed, she had. At the hospital, they informed us she’d broken a small bone in her wrist – something called the carpal pisiform bone on her proximal row, according to the attending doctor. I had no idea what he was talking about.
It was painful, would heal on its own, and Lauren would wear an arm cast for a few weeks. She promptly swore off all sports activities except for swimming.
Painkillers addled Lauren’s brain. I didn’t realize it at the time. We were having far too much fun at her expense and, at first excited at having the three of us cooking for her, Lauren became disillusioned very quickly. She wasn’t a fan of packaged mac & cheese. She tired of hotdogs after three nights in a row. She grew to dislike frozen lasagna. After not even two weeks of culinary punishment, she started cooking again.
I discovered how discombobulated she’d been in late January.
We slipped past Christmas and into the New Year. Lauren and the girls had gone all out with Christmas decorations, a huge tree, and traditional turkey dinner. Sylvie and Amanda went skiing every day they were off school. Sylvie enjoyed skiing, but she showed none of the innate talent Amanda had. Amanda was destined to be a fantastic skier.
Ice skating wasn’t repeated. Sylvie, instead, focused on photography. Then one day as I painted, she asked if she could try. While she had the eye for composition, she couldn’t handle oil paints. For Christmas, I gave her a set of Caran d'Ache water pencils, some charcoal, and a large sketchbook. Sylvie found her passion. She created the most spectacular surreal landscapes that always had one point of focus - usually an animal - in sharp detail, caught the wispy clouds wending sensuously down the mountains, and portrayed the chill of winter, uniquely capturing the lonely beauty of nature.
But it was late January, while the girls were in school, that Lauren wrapped her arms around me from behind as I painted.
She kissed my cheek. “Are you too busy?” she asked. “I’m feeling romantic.”
I’d just finished preparing the canvass. “Nope.” Turning my head, she kissed me gently, her startling, deep sapphirine eyes so beautiful.
I cleaned my hands and Lauren took one, leading me to our bedroom. Intimacy was so easy with her, never casual, always exciting. She started undressing me, caressing my exposed chest. She gently fondled me into an erection as she undid my jeans and pushed them down. Standing on tiptoes, she kissed me softly, her hand easing inside my boxers to hold my erection.
“I love your erection,” she murmured, stroking me before removing her hand. A quick shove and the boxers collected at my feet.
She knew without me asking. Stepping back, she let me undress her - perhaps one of the most intimate of actions. Her sky blue, lacy demi-cup bra was revealed as I pulled her Tee up and off. Encased in lace, her beautiful breasts with dark areolae and large nipples were so sexy.
I cupped them lightly, loving their heft. Unbuttoning her jeans, I pushed them down to expose her matching panties, the lacy front panel showing her amber pubes. Lauren let me unhook her bra and her smile faded slightly when I bent to kiss each exposed breast, sucking on the nipple.
I eased her panties down and cupped her gorgeous pussy. Lauren was already aroused, damp, slippery. She shuddered slightly when I caressed her clit, pulled my hand away, and led me to the bed.
Kissing and cuddling, we enjoyed each other’s body, now familiar and exciting. No words were needed. Through actions we talked, admired, and expressed love. Lauren stroked me and, when she rubbed her thumb on the tip and felt the first bead of clear precum, she murmured her pleasure and desire, urging me up onto her, guiding me between her thighs, rubbing my tip along her soft cleft.
I caressed her breast and teased her areola, pinched her nipple. Lauren sighed and edged the tip of my erection down her cleft to lodge at her entrance.
Releasing me, she held my hips, smiled at me and tugged. I penetrated her slowly, very slowly, her entrance stretching, then yielding suddenly, warm moist velvet welcoming me.
“I love the feeling of you penetrating me,” she whispered, then groaned with pleasure as I sank into her, burying myself inside her snug pussy. “I love how you fill me, Ryan,” she whispered. “I love sex with you.”
We made love slowly, enjoying each lazy stroke, letting arousal build and strengthen. We fucked each other with no fanfare, a simple expression of our love. Gradually, pleasure drove desire. Gradually desire drove need. Gradually our pace increased, fucking each other, her hands on my hips dictating pace. Kissing ended. I nestled my face to her neck inhaling the scent of peaches and blossoms, of my sister, my lover, my love.
Reaching down, I held her gorgeous buttocks. We fucked faster, building, bodies straining, fucking each other with deep strokes, erection straining. And then, Lauren gasped my name, “Ryan!” Her pussy tightened, her body shook, legs tightening against me, and she climaxed.
I followed her into heaven, my erection swelling, swelling, stroking into her until, like the clouds opening and a storm arriving, I came; a massive burst of pleasure, semen erupting, sweet bliss. Holding her gorgeous ass, I fucked and came, spurting deeply, each incredible release bringing exquisite pleasure. We fucked each other through ecstasy until our orgasms peaked and faded, our bodies slowly coming to rest, small tremors shaking Lauren.
Her hands caressed my back. That special lethargy spread through me; the feeling of muscles relaxed, being drained, being at utter peace. It was a feeling I’d only experienced with my sister.
Then she whispered in my ear, “I missed my period. I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a child together, Ryan.”
Stunned, I raised my face to look at her. Lauren’s riveting, deep sapphirine eyes studied me, watching for my reaction.
“I found out this morning. I think I forgot to take the pill when I was taking the pain medication for my wrist.” Her expression grew worried. “I really want to have your child, Ryan.”
It was another defining moment in my life.
“I think it’s wonderful,” I told her, smiling. It was. It was thrilling.
Lauren’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement. She smiled with pleasure and I saw her as she was at ten years old, so bright and beautiful, doggedly following me as we explored the Everglades and chatting away at anything that caught her attention.
I kissed her smile and told her, “I’m the luckiest brother in the world.”
“You are,” she whispered, drawing me into a kiss.