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Archive name: sib.txt
Authors name: Holly Rennick (jlrennick@yahoo.com)
Story title : Sibling Rivalry
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Sibling Rivalry
by Holly Rennick (jlrennick@yahoo.com)
***
This one’s for adolescent boys. They’re people, too.
They just have smaller brains. (mf-teens, inc, reluc)
***
Adapted by Ylloh Kcinner
ADAPTOR'S NOTES:
Thanks to American author Holly Rennick for permission
to adapt this selection from "Writer's Notebook" for
publication in my country (a part of the former Soviet
Union). We wish to practice American English and
receive a NATO air field.
America is our friend. Arnold Schwarzenegger is a
famous American leader. Holly Rennick is a famous
American scholar of English.
Because my country is very cold, we prefer hot
literature. We say, "Wow, man! This is very 'toh'." We
understand little of the American mind, so there is no
need for character development.
"Rehgih ekorts erocs." Pronounce it as best you can,
over and over, permeating your subconscious. In my
native language (with Byzantine diacritics) it means,
"Brother sister to-and-fro."
JANUARY
"Three girls felt Zak's penis at his sister's slumber
party. She's a Junior. First they wanted him to play
strip poker, but he wouldn't. He knew they'd rig it."
"It'd be easy," I agreed, sipping my Starbucks. If we
don't have much sex life ourselves, we can speculate
about our students. Plus while we gossip, we can learn
to knit.
"The thing is," interjected my teaching colleague,"
you're supposed to cheat fair so everybody gets naked."
I've never actually played strip poker, but know how it
works. I'd read about Naked Twister, too. but I'd just
played the Milton Bradley way.
"You think this will look like a sweater?" asking me to
appraise several rows of knitting production.
"Or a scarf."
My girlfriend continued, "So three of them snuck into
Zak's room in the middle of the night and held the
cover over his head so he couldn't tell who. They sat
on him and teased till he got hard. He couldn't help
it. They had a ruler, so there must have been a bet or
something."
"No way" I objected. She always stretched the facts.
They'd bet on his length?
"Cross my heart with my Maidenform bra! They pulled his
boxers all the way down so they could measure his
balls, too. After he got his erection, they were nicer.
One girl made him squeeze her tits while they did their
thing; he liked that part. The last one rubbed herself
across his cock, but he didn't shoot, when they were
there, anyway. If he had, they'd make a big deal of
it."
"It would be a big deal," I noted. "They'd start
bagging him everywhere, like in the band room."
Actually, it depends on the school: band room,
auditorium light booth, drama storeroom, balcony of the
old gym, they'll find a place. Once I found a used
condom behind the reference bookshelf in the back of my
classroom, but it had to have been from when I wasn't
there. The janitors sometimes forget to lock.
"He knows it was three because they took turns. At the
last, they uncovered his mouth and each kissed him.
They left three pairs of panties on his pillow. So
high-schoolish, right? Except for their giggles, the
whole thing was perfectly silent, them and him."
"Poor kid. They should fondle the boys who want them
to." I was, I'll admit, fondling myself just a tad, the
heel of my hand pressing my lap. My hand was under my
knitting bag, of course.
My friend noticed, but then I don't keep secrets from
her very well. "I had your reaction, too," with her
tiny tongue flip.
"What reaction?" I straightened up a bit.
"Your bag helps," in perfect deadpan.
And then back to Zak, "He's pretty sure who two were,
the way they blushed next morning. His sister could be
the other, he suspects, because she's started getting
these videos when their folks are out. They have a
basement TV. You ever see 'Undercover Agent Uncovered'?
You should. Zak's sister just wears her summer nightie,
even though it's winter, and scoots right next to him."
"Bra?" I wondered. In Watergate, they said, "Follow the
money." I say, "Follow the brassiere."
"Sometimes when they start watching, but she'll go to
the bathroom and ditch it."
"And she'd let other girls goose her little brother?
She's a weirdo."
"More than goose, actually. But it's not weird; it's
just not talked about. She'll just hop into his lap in
the middle of the movie and get him to wrap his arms
under her boobs. During a buildup scene, she'll snuggle
deeper so his hard-on fits against her crack. He has
one constantly."
"I wonder why?" Maybe I should have used a larger
knitting needle, I decided, but it was too late. Story
of my life.
"She'll even say things like, 'I'll bet she never
tells,' or 'that one would be a way to start.'"
"Why not just say, 'Let's do it too, dear brother of
mine?'" I'm direct at times, at least in suggestions.
"Good point," agreed my friend. "To get more comfy,
she'll move his arms up. If he cups one through her
nightie, he doesn't act intentional. He can bump her
nip, but shouldn't squeeze, if you get the difference.
Or she'll tug her neckline out enough for him look
right over her shoulder. She looks too."
"Tease the guy to death!" Tease me to death, too! My
coffee was getting cold, but so what?
"Well, he does sort of like the cuddling. He's just a
guy.".
"With his sister?" This was the hard bit.
"If Zak puts a pillow over his lap, she tries to
wrestle it away. 'Perv-boy peeked and got a biggie! We
can't help how we get sometimes, can we?' That kind of
stuff."
"Poor guy probably wants to slide under the sofa." My
personal theory says, look, don't discuss, but it's
pretty much a theory.
"She'll crawl right on top of him in the battle. If a
button comes loose and a boob pops out, she claims it
doesn't matter because they used to take baths together
anyway. They still could, she adds."
"Would they take their rubber ducky?" I hummed a few
bars. (Ernie was always so sweet, chatting away at poor
mono-brow Burt who just wanted to sleep sometimes. I
never bought into that homosexual lobby conspiracy some
people railed about.)
"She makes him button her back in because she says he
undid it," my friend ignoring my duck question. "She
holds real still while he fixes it and then starts
wrestling until it gets undone again. And when her gown
rides up, him seeing her panties doesn't matter, she
says, because there's nobody watching them wrestle."
"Like we wrestle in our little panties and they don't
see everything?" We know exactly how they wedge up.
"He sees enough," in agreement.. "When he touches a tit
in the wrestling, she kind of pauses and raises her arm
before trying to escape. If he touches her butt, she
giggles that he better not spank her. He's brushed
between her legs when he was pinning her, but not long
enough to do anything. His touches aren't all
accidental, you know."
"Don't blame Zak," I warned.
"She tries to touch too, her leg between his. Or maybe
the side of her arm gets there. Like with her tits, if
it seems accidental he'll go along."
"This is going somewhere it shouldn't." Actually, I
thought it had already.
"Not really. They end up with her thigh on his cock,
his hip against her sweet spot. More or less even for a
make-out, anyway. Nothing really gets anywhere." My
friend giggled at the inference. "She's probably
watching his breathing, seeing what's working."
"Just a matter of time." This much I knew.
"And then Zak found her Valentine's panties in his
dresser, bikini ones with little red hearts. Like their
mom can't sort their laundry? Right! When he threw them
in her room, she asked if she should wear them next
time, even if they don't stay up very well. Talk about
bold! It's because she knows that brother is a virgin
with a big one and won't tell on her. She was the third
girl, alright."
My friend thought a moment more. "Anyway, Zak really
likes his sister. He's spied on her, pretty well
actually, but it just makes him hornier. She knows,
too. Would you leave your door open a crack at bedtime,
turn away right when you get naked, hop under the sheet
and touch yourself, him still peeking in? The girl's
cruel! Well, maybe she's smart. He should slip in and
finish what she started."
"They'll have a six-fingered baby," I retorted, then
wondered, "So how come you all this, anyway?"
"I'm Zak's teacher, right?"
I looked at her.
"Extracurricular," she clarified, knowing that
girlfriends keep secrets.
My stitches were really uneven, but maybe with a baggy
sweater, no one would notice.
MARCH
Zak slipped in and closed the door.
"Zak, what are you doing? Get out of my room!" His
sister clutched her sheet. Window-light illuminated
four protrusions underneath -- breasts and knees.
He knew she wasn't asleep. "Really quiet, or I'll tell
Mom what you're doing." He used his foot to push her
throw-rug against crack beneath the door while he took
off his shirt.
"I'm not doing anything. Beat it," but more in a
whisper.
Ignoring her dismissal, he sat on her bed.
"Get off and get out, boy child," a bit more fiercely,
but still hushed.
"You were twiddling yourself, right?" He put his hand
on her abdomen and she pulled back.
"Quit it! I was sleeping," she lied. He'd not really
seen anything specific, she figured, just getting
relaxed after a busy day.
"Or was it here?" his hand sliding upward.
A swat with her elbow. "Pervert!"
Zak poked at a nipple, thimble-like, punctuating the
linen. "How'd it get hard, then? It's not that big a
tit, overall, but it's nice," a pinch serving as the
period.
"Quit it and scram. You can't do that!" still a
whisper. She swatted again and scooted against the
wall. He scooted in emboldened pursuit.
"I wouldn't have to squeeze if you'd lie still. You let
me in the basement" pinching again, a bit harder.
"Stop acting like a jerk." She tugged his hand off, but
he returned. "It's different there because it's
accidental and you show a little respect. Besides, what
do you know about anything bigger than AA's?"
"How to feel them," he boasted. "I'm good."
"Says who? Some mannequin?"
"Somebody with bigger ones than these."
"Well bigger isn't better, stupid! Plus I'm dressed
when we're watching TV." She slapped hard at his wrist.
If it hurt he deserved it.
"Dressed? I suppose you accidentally sit on my lap,
too?" He relaxed his clasp and rested his hand on her
ribs.
She felt her breath retreat. "I can't help about you
when we watch. I do mind you being here now, though.
It's my room!"
"Let's make it not an accident, then," reclaiming her
bust slowly. Very slowly.
She twisted again, but to avoid another pinching,
didn't intervene as he massaged through the sheet,
concentrating on her nipples.
Well, it's not much more than in the basement, she told
herself. We've only messed around on the couch, but
maybe here would be OK, too. Her bedroom's just where
they happened to be. If he wants to feel, she'll let
him, the little perv. She didn't totally mind what he
was doing. She'd been getting in the mood when he
showed up, anyway. It's just so rude, how he just
barged in, though. She expanded her chest so she'd seem
bigger.
Her breathing deepened. Her neck visibly relaxed and
her head fell back against the pillow. "You go out and
I'll get in my nightie. We can look at your magazines
with my flashlight," she grinned. He didn't know that
she even knew about his magazines, she figured, so such
cognizance might help re-establish her rank.
He smiled too, but a bit more darkly. "No nighties. Why
look at pictures when we can wrestle?"
"We can't wrestle here! And stop touching me!"
"Let's just chuck this sheet," tugging at its corner.
"It's not cold."
"No way! I'm not dressed, jerk-off spy!" Some truth
there, she knew.
"You rub them like this," showing her, gentle for the
first time.
She didn't deny, but wiggled farther away and stuck out
her tongue. "You treat me with respect! Anyway, I can't
wrestle because of the curse."
"Nice try. I don't want to finish you off you during
your little period either, so I checked the
wastebasket. It's been a week."
"You make me gag, Zak. You lick them clean, I'll bet."
She paused, her rejoinder suddenly no longer that
important. His "finish you off" signaled a different
intention. Who does he think he is?
"How about I lick you clean to get you ready?"
She now knew what he was after. The cocky little
bastard!
Quickly, "Oh no, Zak boy, we're not doing that. I'm not
on the pill. Leave me alone, asshole," an elbow to his
ribs to detour his roving.
He moved his reach toward her crotch and she grabbed
his wrist, leaving a single hand to preserve the sheet.
"You knew I'd be in here sooner or later," he judged.
She looked for a different argument. "Anyway, I know
about the sock under your mattress. Wash it," grasping
for advantage. "And so do my girlfriends, but you don't
know which ones. We take turns at your keyhole. You're
such a pervert."
"They got interested enough to hold me down, anyway.
You're the pervert and couldn't even make me come."
"Am not!" fiercely. "You would have, but I didn't want
your icky stuff on me," in further justification
"Well this time, up the stovepipe," with his disarming
smile.
She couldn't stop his palm rubbing her pelvis through
the sheet. This wasn't just a game.
He moved to her thigh and then down to her shin.
"Penis face! Go wank yourself," trying to sound in-
charge, her old voice.
Zak continued his business, serious business. "So let's
take off elder sister's sheet."
As she was still clutching the cover to her throat,
exposing her toes was easy. When he bared her knees,
she flipped face down and tried to burrow. At the end,
the sheet was a scarf, easily pried away.
"Frontward, please," to her bare back. No response
other than clenching her butt and locking her hands
under her crotch.
"Give me my sheet!" She didn't even realize he'd pulled
down his pants until his erection prodded her cheeks.
Turning to look over her shoulder, "Ugly!"
With her girlfriends, it seemed a cute plaything. Now,
looming white and rigid from her brother's shadow of
hair, it looked larger. He was bouncing his hips just
enough to make it wave. She broke her stare when she
realized he was watching her eyes.
"Well, we'll stick in a place where it's dark." He
could be so crude!.
Straddling her, he teased her clenched rear with
pretend probes, then let it slide along her crack. He
reached under her arms to fondle her again and she
shivered as he took the time needed to recover her
nipples
Sitting on the sofa, she'd been the one doing the
pressing downward. She didn't like getting mauled, but
disliked being bare-bottomed on the bottom even more.
His erection pressed more firmly against her flesh.
"Zak, don't do that stuff to me. I never made you do
anything on the couch. Just go away. I won't tell,"
almost meekly. She wouldn't.
"I know you won't," he agreed. "So how to turn her
right-side up?" he asked the air.
"I'll do you with both hands," she negotiated. "You can
play with my tits, during."
"Too late. You never delivered on the couch. A bed's
for the real thing," still reaching around her. She
raised on her elbows a little, hoping to buy time.
"You can spy on a slumber party. I'll get them to play
around and everything. OK?" She tried to smile, but it
was forced.
"I'd rather see you play around."
"OK." A ray of hope -- she'd let him watch. Maybe he'd
even do it, too.
He read her mind. "I mean play around while we fuck."
"Zak, please don't" She so much didn't like that word.
His hands moved to her stomach to lift. She hoped she
was too heavy unless he got more assertive, and that
could make noise.
She foiled his reach between her buttocks by locking
her legs together.
Reaching around her hip, he worked his fingertips near
her crotch before clenched hands blocked that route.
"Almost got there and I was hardly trying," in
whispered boast.
He shifted to her side.
As her brother tried to roll her toward him (hard to
defend against without spreading her legs), she
counterattacked, slugging his stomach, pushing him back
with a swift forearm and almost diving free. Naked on
the floor would hardly be home free, she realized, but
beat being naked in bed. It no longer mattered what he
saw. Ill-aimed blows rained on her sibling, but without
room for a wind-up, inflicted little damage. Her
fingernails, however, left marks.
Zak, sensing her disequilibrium, twisted her leg and
quickly had her ripely on her back, one of his hands
below her neck, the other on her stomach. She was
cognizant that neither perch afforded him much hold,
but he'd shifted to her shoulder and hip while she
gasped for breath.
He pulled her to the bed's center, where the mattress'
softness made her feel as if she were in a trench.
She invested her hands to shield her tangle of pubic
hair; leaving her breasts listing outward and exposed.
"Better," he rudely acknowledged, jamming his knee
between her legs and pulling her hands aside to assess.
She went for his throat.
His hand closed on her genitalia with surprising
carefulness, considering that her chokehold was not
gentle in return until he broke her attempt at
strangulation.
"Just relax, will you?" slipping a digit where her
flesh parted. Here she was, she realized, trying to
choke her brother, while in return he was touching her
with a single finger.
"I'm going to yell!" she hissed, feeling herself
opened.
"So who rented the movies? How'd you even get a card to
that video store? I was sound asleep when you three
came in." He pinched her labia, not hard, but enough to
remind her he'd torqued her breast earlier.
"Zak, please stop. You'll hurt me." Not knowing how to
prevent him, she began to tear.
"Don't be a crybaby. It won't hurt." It won't hurt him,
that is, she realized.
Oblivious to protests alternating between pleas and
defiance, her brother began to explore. A downward-
wiggled finger found her moist. From what's happening
now, she wondered?
She tried for another throat clutch, but was again
thwarted.
She readied for a harder pinch, but instead he paused.
"Ready?" actually a question.
"Pig!" But from somewhere, sensing onset of un-offered
compliance, she ceased flailing. She grabbed her pillow
for protection, but didn't know what to do with it.
He fingered her vagina, still just a single digit.
Trying to squeeze him out just meant he wiggled into
her harder. She wasn't at all ready.
"Was this what I interrupted?" now giving her full-
fingered ins and outs.
He maybe knows a little bit, she realized. She was
panting, probably 80 percent from being upset, but the
remaining 20 from the encroaching warmth. If she
twisted, his finger hurt her, so she lay still while
the 20 became 30.
"Anus breath! I'll finger fuck your ass some day," she
declared, still lying motionless. Maybe it was now 40.
"I'll tie you up and make you cry. A bunch of us will
take pictures for our scrapbooks," she threatened as
the tingle grew to 50, then 60.
"I'm not tying you up, am I? Fair fight. Just one
finger." He looked at her, "Why not help me out? Like
in a movie."
"You down and I use a corncob, shit-head!" her nipples
still fully erect. 70.
"That was just to get you stretched," tough-boy talk.
She knew he hadn't stretched her any more than she was
expanding herself to 80.
His knees pushing hers to either side rekindled her
thrashing, so much so that the headboard rattled. With
noise their mutual enemy, he jammed he pillow between
bed and the wall. It did the trick and they resumed
battle.
Zak forced her other pillow under her butt and she knew
he wanted to make her moan, fucked deeply. She twisted
right and left, but never off the pillow that would
help relieve the pounding.
Gasps and murmurs punctuated his description of what
was to come as her last defenses waned.
She didn't surrender when he breached her. She
involuntarily gasped at its suddenness and pulled free,
but he penetrated again and this time she couldn't
retreat.
His eyes were shut in concentration. She pummeled his
back with inward flays from the elbow, accomplishing
nothing, but she didn't know what else to do with her
arms. He locked a hand under each of her shoulders to
still her wasted expenditure. 90.
Her thwarting pelvic maneuvers and clenched canal
limited his insertion to just a centimeter at a time,
but it was relentlessly one-way. As much as she
contracted to expel him, each push left her too
exhausted to complete her intent. Kicking her heels
into his calves only invited his thrust, but she banged
him with her feet anyway.
The abrupt and contorted friction hurt her, but she was
glad because she knew it to be hard on him as well. No,
maybe that wasn't right. She was glad she'd punished
him to this point.
In ruthless mating, they labored together in
adversarial alliance.
Their battle assumed the fluidity of slow motion,
sometimes almost a deadlock of incrementally alternate
wills, pausing in momentary truce between each test.
His insertions were measured, each wedging deeper.
"Remember when we used to play Slippery Slide when we
were little?" Zak paused, starting to giggle.
She bucked her hips in what she hoped appeared an
effort to unseat her brother and rejected his
determination to insert his tongue in her mouth. The
foray of tongues in fact replaced the contest of
genitals, Zak's penis half-way into his sister while
the two feinted, parried and drove, tongue against
tongue.
Between male and female secretions, she was now better
lubricated. The two resumed their coupling, slow and
synchronous.
"Pencil dick," she dismissed his effort, lest he think
that his circumference was big enough to feel.
"Hang on for the fun part," he warned, gliding in and
out almost his full length. She was glad he hadn't
believed her.
She complied, hands on his shoulders, but didn't
surrender when he escalated their rhythm. With her hips
elevated, he probed her depth.
"Tell me when it's Bingo," he whispered.
She stifled a moan, partly for the noise concern, but
more so to deny verbalizing that she'd turned the
corner. She lifted her torso free of the pillow, his
weight with hers, but only to collapse back in futile
exhaustion, fighting not desire, but revelation.
Coupled, she knew she'd climax at whatever cadence he
beat. But as she owed him no predictability, random
rebounds were her last hope to frustrate dominance. But
even this was too hard and she fell into a mutual pace
of rise and fall.
As she writhed against her brother, her cheeks
reddened, her pupils lost focus, her forehead beaded,
her mouth formed an oval.
She'd fondled it at the slumber party and had teased it
to hardness any number of times since, but feeling it
fuck her was so different. Contradicting their verbal
rudeness, physical reciprocity assumed the smoothness
of fresh butter.
She didn't surrender even in orgasm, hot and angry at
losing. His weight plastered her as she spent herself,
pushing and pulling. It was full, one in which female
fluids expel, sexuality and power thus intermingling.
Glad for the pillow stilling the headboard, she wasn't
sure how he'd stayed on.
She had tears from the exertion, from the satisfaction
so abruptly and involuntarily broadcast, from the
debate of it all. How could something so imposed feel
so ordained?
She kissed her brother, but didn't know why.
She'd been resisting something foretold, her brother
watching her climax from on top. She'd sometimes
thought he'd take her on the sofa, but each time
chortled in forestalling the end of their game. At last
he'd felt her thrashing, thrusting and now twitching.
And now he, too, was ready to orgasm, his second
victory. Seeding her was Zak's bounty. He was little
brother again, boasting. "You know how a dog pisses on
a tree proves he's been there?"
"You're so gross," she managed.
"It's like an Easter Egg hunt," he taunted. "But just
one egg."
She'd seen the Health Ed. movie of little sperm
wiggling their thread-like flagella as they swim into
the womb. Some kids tittered, but she saw the power.
She knew Zak had saved inseminating her so she'd be
focused.
Their battle turned to his final triumph.
But at last freed from her own need, she knew that she
could expel the little asshole, waste his semen into
the air. Maybe she could grab him and spray his face.
Or smear her tits and make him lick them clean. That
might make him regret stealing into her room! She could
humiliate him more, even make him masturbate. Yes!
He'd, after all, shown her no respect. Seize the
moment, as her girlfriends would say!
But instead of denial, she delayed beneath his
quickening strokes, letting him broadcast within her,
accepting each sperm, paying him homage. Acquiescence
ratified his conquest, something a sister would do.
As he pumped, she reflected. Maybe she should have just
let him seduce her on the couch. It would have been a
better fuck, though probably not a better climax. But
then she decided that this little jerk, the one that's
fucking her now, will never even get another Hello from
her, here on out. What right did he have, acting like
some big stud? Her orgasm was no credit to him.
Supine though she was, she still controlled her senses.
Unlike herself, he'd probably moan. She'd at least
salvaged that morsel, denying him the audibles. If a
parent heard now, she'd be no better off, so freeing
her arm, she covered his mouth. Plus, she didn't want
to hear him describe his accomplishment.
Thinking about his little sperm left her royally
pissed, even while trying to prolong their union. She's
mad at him for doing it. She's mad at herself, too. Her
nipples disappear.
After his last virile throb and she knew the sperm were
free to egg-hunt, she bucked him off, again the elder.
"Gotta force the chick, you horny jerk! That was so
pathetic that no girl would let you. Moaning like a
wimp. I'm telling everybody." They lay side by side.
"And let go of my tit. You don't even know how to hold
it!"
"Hey, I rode you out," he retorted, a bit of boast.
A wrinkled nose in return. "Beginner's luck. Only
because you caught me naked, asshole! I was in a
weakened condition," a hint of girlishness.
"Does 'asshole' mean you'll show me how, Ms. sex
expert?"
"Forget it, perv-boy. Now out! You get another dinky
boner thinking about me, you've got your little sock.
And I've got my allies. We'll fuck you raw both ways,
next slumber party. Just you wait! We'll give you Kotex
for your bleeding butt-hole. And you'll probably like
it because you're a fag. You wanted to rear-end me, but
I stopped you."
She hooked a leg over his, a hint of future rules.
"Better stay here, in case the folks are up."
And in a short while she announced triumphantly, "I was
wondering if you had a disability. Maybe something you
caught from your sock."
"So now you're my doctor? Jeez!"
"Until you get to be older than me."
"And I'm not a beginner," he argued.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire. You did OK, though, for a
know-nothing." Fact was, she admitted silently, he
pretty much knew what he was doing.
"You did OK for a bitch. Only a lezbo would fight back
so much, though," looking at his arm.
"You shouldn't have pinched. A girl's delicate,"
delivered with her best pout.
"So is this a better way to hold it?" cupping so that a
nipple protruded between his knuckles.
He wouldn't have asked, she realized, if he didn't
know. "A little bit. It's because I'm remembering the
last video, not creepo you. In the movie, the
motorcycle guy kissed each one."
Two kisses, as ordered. Very nice kisses.
"And one more where he shouldn't, remember?" she added.
"He did it without permission. Just one, though."
"I'm remembering that video, too."
"Let me guess. He got smooched, too. Right?"
"Without permission," Zak added.
"Even Steven," her ruling.
Zak turned to study her pubic hair and at last nuzzled.
When she pushed the back of his head downward, he
lipped her labia. Was that his tongue, she wondered?
What else could it be, slathering her bidding erection?
So how'd he know about a clit? Most guys, even her age,
just thought about vaginas.
Clasping his head between her thighs to preclude
escape, she feared smothering him, but his arms locked
around the small of her back told her that he was OK.
She pulled his hips directly above her and drew him
down until her tongue flicked his rigid boyhood. She
toyed with the idea of squeezing his balls, making him
wince, but decided that would be pretty mean. After
all, he was putting his mouth where she liked it.
She let his testicles bounce on her chin before bending
his penis mouth-ward.
"Jeez, Zak. I'm not going to use my teeth unless you
try to come," pausing for effect. "Then you're dead
meat." She rather liked delivering the threat with big-
sister authority.
Sucking him in, she traced her tongue around his tip.
"Here we go round the mulberry bush," she tried to hum
before she salivated his underside.
"Jack and Jill went up the hill," he tried to recite to
her vulva, his chin jabbing her pubic bone on each "J"
enough to make her giggle.
"Don't fall, Humpty," but she could already feel his
reflexive spasms.
It was far too late when she realized that he'd not
cease licking her tingling nubbin until she climaxed.
And she knew that if she came, he'd have to, as well.
The royal jerk, he'd squirt it all over her!
But, Jeez, his tongue! She tried to assure the head-
lock between her calves, but it didn't really matter;
she was already ascending.
She was quick enough to have him out of her mouth when
she felt him tense. Most of his explosion landed closer
to her breastbone. Together, they rubbed the wetness
against his abdomen.
Lying beside him afterwards, she wondered. "Actually,
maybe you were a little better than a beginner. D'ja
bang some whore?"
He gave his told-you-so smirk. "Shit no."
"Who, then?"
"Not telling, but she's older than you!"
So be it, his sister decided. It's probably better not
to know. It screws up friendships.
Looking behind her. "That pillow still stuck back
there? You can use it," snuggling him beside her.
Not too much before dawn, she awoke, him nested in her
arm still, and shook his shoulder.
He blinked, grinned, yawned and reached for her breast.
"Cover your mouth yourself this time because I'll be
occupied. Now flat on your back, boy wonder."
He ignored the covered-mouth bit and grabbed her waist.
"You fall off the bed like a spaz-girl and we're up
Shit Creek!"
Siblings to the end.
*****
He had a few scratches and she was sorer than need be.
Both slept soundly in their own beds and argued next
morning about who got to finish the granola. When Mom
wasn't looking, he grinned, poked a finger through his
toast and wiggled it at his sibling.
She gave him the finger back, no toast involved. Then
she grinned as well, lips pulled around her teeth to
form an "O".
She'd not known how much would find itself on the line
when he began to remove her sheet. She'd defended
herself well, had no escape. So what if she paused for
him to seal his conquest? It was a lot more than a
tryst. She knew that her brother could tell. She loves
the little guy. Always has. Always will.
To balance the excitement, though, there's a penalty.
It was a couple of weeks before she was assured of no
conception. She wasn't that sure why she'd risked
impregnation, but knew that vulnerability was the right
culmination. For all his smart talk, she knew that Zak
was worried too. That's good.
No more porn to frustrate the little jerk. No more
teasing on the sofa. No more bedroom doors left cracked
open for him to spy through. It was fun being little
kids while it lasted.
Now it was a brother whom she'd battled to her very
best. A brother who'd won the first contest and she'd
conceded the second. But she'd make the little prick
wear a rubber, here on out.
Of course they'd make love again. They'd fuck lesser
partners.
APRIL
"He won't say it, but I know they did it." We were
talking about knitting maybe being more difficult than
advertised, but I knew the subject had shifted to Zak.
We're it anything else, she'd have been specific.
"They grow up on us, I guess," I conceded with little
doubt that she knew about Zak's growth. It just takes
more nerve than I've got. "You OK about it?"
Girlfriends don't keep secrets.
"No," she admitted, "but there were lots of fun parts.
At least I can put all that junk back in my book
closet."
I looked her way. "How so?"
"Class completed," she managed a grin. "So how do you
knit a box pattern, again?"
"Not like that. You're inventing some sort of knot."
ADAPTOR'S SUMMARY
This selection's Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level score is
9.0. In accordance with the National Educational
Policy, ninth grade students will be examined for rote
regurgitation of selected passages.
HOLLY ON THE WEB
Wherever you found this story on the web, thank you to
the server. My problem is that I've no systematic way
to update the various servers. As literary errors (or
just poor word usages) are made known to me, I'll
repair that which is salvageable on
http://www.asstr.org/~Holly_Rennick/. My website's not
much graphically, I admit, but HTML isn't my native
language.
You can contact me via the site's message form, that
HTML code by the smart people at ASSTR.
I won't be changing the story significantly, so if you
didn't like it before, that much will remain the same.
But if you did like it, an update may read a bit more
cleanly.
Holly
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 28