Chapter 4

Brad’s turn:

In retrospect, mistakes were made.

Family weeks in a rented cabin, they’re fine for getting the kids out of the house and doing a vacation without forking over a hundred and fifty bucks a head to stand in line waiting for centrifugal bumblepuppy.

Rented cabins are fine for family reunions.

Rented cabins are wonderful for secluded, romantic trysts.

I guess that when I came up with the idea, it was the first kind.

Ends up as the third.

If I was chasing The Great Bearded Clam, then this would be a great way to get maximum mileage out of some girls.

The girl in question today is my sister.

My pretty, funny, intelligent sister.

My widowed, pretty, funny, intelligent sister.

My compatible, widowed, pretty, funny, intelligent sister.

And as I sit here on this sofa with her clad in her pajama top, sitting on my lap, leaking just a little, we’ve done SOMETHING four times in the last sixteen hours. Something. Fucked. Had sex. Made love. Something.

I haven’t EVER fucked. Ex-wife might’ve FUCKED me, but I spent years with her thinking I was making love.

This creature in my lap, curled up, sexy, warm, and all too apparently happy, I fear that we’ve made love.

That’s a feeling I can concur with.

But she’s my sister.

And this is Day Two of a week together.

We were going to read and talk. My iPad’s over there, full of books. Her Kindle’s there beside it. Full of books.

We’ve talked.

And now we’re sticky together for the fourth time.

Same thing. Her head on my chest, fragrant, soft. Just begging to be nuzzled. So I nuzzled.

“Dammit, Brad...”

“Dammit? We’re sitting here cuddled in front of a fire and you say ‘dammit’?”

“Yes,” she said, burying her face against my chest. “This is ... perfect. Not ‘glad we’re married’ perfect. Not ‘we just bought a new house’ perfect. This is ‘all the buttons have been pushed’ perfect. Brad, I haven’t lacked for anything physical my whole life. I’ve never missed a meal or shivered while I slept or been beaten or had to run for my life. But I never had this.”

“This?”

“Curled up in your arms, post-sexual glow ... Warm. Being kissed in a way that says ‘love’ like nothing else. And you’re my stupid brother.”

“And you’re my little sister. And you’re right. This is the best ever. Linda never did this.”

“Keith never did this. Why are YOU doing it?”

“You’re beautiful and bright and I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“You have to. I’m your brother.”

“‘Brother’ is not dripping out of me right now.”

I landed another kiss, took another breath of her scent. “There is that,” I told her. “Dammit, that’s perfect, too.”

“I don’t remember what it’s like to do things without porn on in the room.”

“I don’t remember making love without having to deal with a layer of make-up. I don’t remember making love without my partner jumping up immediately afterward to go put herself back together, or to make sure she was properly prepped for sleep. I don’t remember going to bed with a head of soft, fragrant hair on the pillow beside me.”

“And last night...”

“You were perfect. Even through the alcohol – perfect.”

“This morning...” she questioned.

“Surprise. Pleasant surprise...”

“You wanted me?”

“I wanted you.”

“Even though I’m your sister...”

“You’re a beautiful woman, even all tousle-headed in the morning. That you wanted to make ME happy...”

“I was making ME happy, Brad.”

“Doing that to me?”

“Loving you. Feeling you react. Seeing your face, at least after the shock.”

“It was a shock. I’ve heard of being waked up that way. Never imagined I’d ever experience it.”

She giggled. “Mom would be so mad about me playin’ with your pee-pee.”

“It was well and truly played with.”

“Maybe I wasn’t playing. Maybe I was serious.” She twisted around to kiss me. Keeps my pot on a low boil, it does.

The boil increased with her giggle and the feel of exploring fingers.

“Beck,” I moaned.

“Yes, baby?”

I noted ‘baby’.

“You keep me going...”

“Going?” Giggle. “How about coming?”

“Four since last night. I may never come again...”

Giggle. “You’re hard. I’m pretty sure the there’s another shot around here somewhere.”

My hand tracked up the curve from her thigh to her beautifully rounded butt. She rolled back a little, making an offer I accepted. Found her wet and welcoming. I know a lot of the wetness had to be left over from earlier, but I found it refreshing that after I’d come inside her, she didn’t immediately jump up and go douche herself out.

Now she seems willing again. Willing? Make that ‘eager’. That explains why I’m stretching out at an angle on the sofa, my feet on the floor, urging Beck to straddle me. I feel myself sink inside her.

“Mmmmmm ... perfect...”

“You are.”

She pulled her face back from mine, smiled. “I love this ... We’re not frantic. We’re just mated. You and me, as close as we can be. And I love it.”

I brushed her hair back from her face, holding it away, and kissed her. Long.

“Brad, you meant that one...”

“I meant all of them, Beck.”

“This one’s special,” she said. “The way we just fit together. No urgency...” she sighed, verging on a whimper as she moved on me. “No urgency this time.”

I kissed her again.

“Love, Brad...”

“It is. Always has been.”

This time she initiated the kiss that bonded us together. She’s right. No urgency. We slowly twisted on the sofa, me lying on my back, her straddling me again...

Straddling. Linda was all about ‘missionary’, mainly because it was ‘get it over soonest’. Here I was, beautiful woman impaled on me, slowly working herself on me, the kisses stopping only for the occasional sigh or moan, then resuming.

I kept my hands moving, savoring the feel of warm, happy flesh, smooth skin, curves. My touches are part of those sighs and moans and her movements were at first gentle and slow. Into things, then became a little more insistent, then I started responding with my own thrusts in response to hers, then she got really energetic, and...

“Push! In me. Push!”

My sister was coming again. I was sooo close. My hand felt her butt tense, I felt her slide up, almost off me, then back down with a grinding swirl and I went over my own cliff. Squirted...

“Nnngghhhh! Oh ... I feel that...”

Me? Speechless. Breathless. I held onto her. Okay, caress that pretty head.

“Oh, Brad ... I love you...”

And me, I’m Brad, and I think I know what she means.

Reality intrudes, though.

“Baby?”

“Yes, love...”

“I’ve got juice flowing ... We’re gonna spot the furniture.”

“I don’t want to move...”

“There’ll be more,” I said. “But...”

She didn’t speak, she simply rolled sideways off me. I stood up.

“Stop.”

“Huh?”

Her hand hooked behind my thigh, pulling me towards her. I was engulfed, sucked, licked.

“Beck...”

“Luvit.”

“My turn...”

Her turn to say ‘huh?’

“Scoot down and spread your legs.”

“Baby, you don’t have to. I can get a towel...”

“Hush, you.” And I sank to my knees and worshiped her orchid with my lips and tongue. Yes, it’s me in there, but it’s her, too, and I’ve never done this before. Linda would’ve been gone by now.

Stop thinking about Linda. Eat the one in front of you. I did.

Got a writhing, squealing, orgasmic Becky in return for my efforts.

Efforts? Yeah, it’s ‘effort’ to eat a gourmet meal.

Finally I scooped her up into my arms and hauled her back into the bedroom, the covers still a crumpled mess.

“Oh! It’s COLD!” she squealed.

“Sorry,” I said, “but I’m sure they’re used to seeing mysterious spots on the sheets.”

“Then get in here with me, buddy.”

“I was planning on it.”

I got into the bed by crawling over the top of her. Got captured. Kissed severely.

“Press down on me, Brad.”

“You used to squeal...”

“I’ve grown up.”

“You definitely have. Don’t remember you being this lumpy when we used to wrestle.”

“Mom made us stop when you reached puberty.”

“I know,” I said. “Just when it REALLY started getting fun to get you pinned.”

“Pervert,” she giggled.

“I’m the pervert? You just crawled on me and screwed my head off.”

Giggle. “Mine was spiritual – the mating of two souls. You were just a horny boy who wanted to get off on his little sister...”

“Never did, though. Not from wrestling, anyway...”

“But you did? How?”

“You appeared in a lot of fantasies...”

“Me?”

“Yes, you...”

“Why?”

“You were always cute and familiar and ... I dunno, in some way you set the standard for female sexuality...”

“I didn’t have TITS!”

“Never try to understand what floats a man’s boat,” I said.

She smiled. “And your boat was floated by your titless little sister?”

“Among other things.”

“I won’t ask.”

“Don’t. Teenaged boys are all hormones and no logic.”

She smiled. “And now?”

“Logic. All buttons pushed.”

Her hands cupped my butt. Squeezed. Pulled me against her.

“You like this...”

Kiss. “Very much.” Kiss. “I wanna fit in bed with you. I wanna fit on the sofa with you. I wanna do just like we did this morning and sit on the porch and watch the rain fall and talk and read and know that you’re okay with it.”

“Beck,” I said, rolling sideways off her so we could talk, “that sounds serious.”

“It is. For me, at least. You?”