Chapter 7

I’ll always remember the next morning as one of the most pleasant awakenings of my life. I’d slept like a baby, undisturbed by the strange, fretful dreams that had plagued me recently. I’d been up so late that my usual internal alarm clock hadn’t jolted me awake. As I came to out of my dreamless sleep, I kept my eyes closed for an indeterminate period. I knew I was lying in Chrissy’s bed - a bit frillier, a bit more comfortable than mine. More importantly, I could feel Chrissy next to me, could sense from her soft breath on my neck that she was facing me. She was holding my right hand tightly, down near her sex, her fingers intertwined with mine. I could feel the warmth emanating from down there. I opened my eyes just a little. Chrissy, lovely in the dawn light, indeed lay nude next to me, eyes closed, a contented look on her face. I shut my eyes again. I didn’t know exactly what time it was, and I was a little afraid to find out.

Well, it was Saturday morning, so there was no need to rush things. There was no way our parents would be up this early, especially not Mom - I thought back to our talk the previous night; it was probably 1AM or later when we’d gone to bed. But sooner or later I’d have to get up and go back to my room before our parents awoke. What a disaster if Mom found us like this, caught us once again! Then again ... I thought about what she’d said the night before. I wasn’t sure if I’d really understood her right. She said that she and Uncle Rob ... and Aunt Thea ... what? “Played games”? That didn’t necessarily mean that they had been like Chrissy and me. I wasn’t sure if that had been what Mom was implying. On the other hand, it at least sounded like they didn’t hate each other, which was news to me. I had fuzzy memories of visiting my aunt and uncle when Chrissy and I were really little, but we hadn’t seen them since then. I’d always assumed that they, like my grandparents, were bad, abusive people and that’s why Mom had cut off contact with them. Apparently that wasn’t quite what had happened. I thought about the rest of the conversation. Mom hadn’t exactly told me that she was OK with Chrissy and me ... getting together, but she hadn’t told me that we shouldn’t be together, either. No, who was I kidding. She had all but urged me to come here to Chrissy last night. I had a sudden moment of panic: what if she’d meant something totally different when she said “go to Chrissy and help her be happy again”? What if she just meant, be a good brother to her? No. It couldn’t be. She had begged me to give Chrissy whatever she needed. She had reiterated that we shouldn’t let Dad find out. Oh, my God. She knew we would be getting together. She actually expected it to happen.

I thought, crazily, of our mother thinking about Chrissy and me being together. Imagining it. She wouldn’t even have to leave that much to her imagination: she had seen us. She’d seen Chrissy standing drenched and naked in the shower. She’d seen me sitting with my dick standing up, yearning for Chrissy. I wondered suddenly if Mom jerked off - well, not “jerked off,” I corrected myself - rubbed herself, the way Chrissy had. She must, doesn’t everyone? Had she imagined us, her children, naked together; had she excited herself that way? Or did she think about her “games,” whatever those were, with Uncle Rob and Aunt Thea? No, surely she thought about Dad when she stimulated herself, I thought, the same way I thought about Chrissy. I tried to forget the many orgasms I’d had with Mom’s face intruding into my visions of Chrissy, how turned on I’d been by the wrongness of being caught by her. Even now, thinking these disjointed thoughts, my penis, which had merely had morning wood when I woke up, was now hotly rampant, stretching out toward Chrissy’s belly next to me. Oh my God. Chrissy... next to me.

I opened my eyes wide. Chrissy was awake too - her eyes were open and she was looking up at me. I smiled. “Hi.” She giggled. “Hi yourself!” I reached over with my left hand and stroked her hair. “I love you, Chrissy,” I said. It bore repeating. “I love you, Alex,” she murmured. Just like last night. Not a reply, not a perfunctory “I love you too,” but a sentence that stood on its own. It still felt like the rightest thing in the world. I kissed her forehead and shifted closer to her, placing my left hand on her buttocks. My erection was bumping up against her belly. Oh, God, I wanted her so badly. Chrissy’s hand touched my penis and I let out an involuntary gasp, nearly jumping out of my skin. She was trying to guide it lower, down to her sex. I said, “Wait. Wait Chrissy. We shouldn’t. You could get pregnant.” Oh shit, what about last night? Couldn’t she already be pregnant? (I was a bit fuzzy on how much time it took.) “Don’t worry, Alex,” she said. “My period’s due in a few days. I don’t think I can get pregnant now.” I must have looked doubtful, because she grinned at me. “I bet you I won’t get pregnant. Not that I’d mind!” It hardly seemed possible that I could get harder, but I felt my dick straining against her hand. “Chrissy...” I mumbled. “I love you, Alex,” she said. “I love you, Chrissy.”

Suddenly she let go of my penis and unclasped her other hand from mine. “Wait.” She got up on her knees, then lay down again, with her thick, naked buttocks aligned with my erection. “Put your arms around me.” I obeyed, sliding my right under her waist and placing my left over her chest. She sighed contentedly and pushed her butt up against my hard-on. My fingers found her clitoris and I began to massage the hard little button slowly, lubricating them periodically in her vulva. With my left hand I cupped her breast. Chrissy pushed back against me, rhythmically. Then, somewhat breathlessly, she said: “Put it in me, Alex.” She opened her legs a little. I could see the dense hairs around her vulva from behind. I reached down and guided myself into her from behind. It was a perfect fit, no awkward repositioning - it felt like we were made to go together this way. As wonderful as it had always felt when I had thrust my penis between her butt cheeks, as wonderful as it had felt last night, being in her for the first time - this was something else entirely. We were closer to each other than I could imagine, my penis deep inside her vagina, the small of her back against my belly, my right hand on her clitoris, my left on her lovely breasts. I began to move, deeper and shallower, deeper and shallower, as I rubbed her hard little pea and stroked her swollen nipples. It was, without question, the best feeling I had ever had in my life. Chrissy began to make little gasping noises with each thrust. I picked up the pace, rubbing her clit even harder. Then, all of a sudden, almost unexpectedly, she groaned loud and hard and I felt her vagina pulsing around my penis. Liquid was flooding from her; I could feel it with my hand, soaking her clit, her pubic hair, and the sheets below us. She pulled my hand away from the wetness and her clit. “Chrissy...” I moaned. “Come in me,” she murmured. I gently rolled her onto her tummy, without pulling out, and clambered on top. Like a crazy man, I had no goal but to push through to the orgasm that was hanging still, just out of reach. I thrust into her darkness, again and again, her buttocks swinging back and forth with each thrust, but, though I felt I would explode any second, her sheer wetness wasn’t supplying quite enough stimulation to push me over the edge, and because she herself had come already, I felt as if I had to hurry up, which wasn’t making it easier. Finally, I closed my eyes tight and thought the shameful, crazy thought: “What if Mom could see us now!” That did it: I groaned, once, loudly, and then emptied myself into my sister from behind, the orgasm crashing over me like a rogue wave at the beach.