So Firm, Yet So Soft

by Losgud

Copyright© 2010 by Losgud

Incest Sex Story: Ever wonder why TV fills the late night airwaves with old low-grade movies? Read this piece to discover why. As this story started commanding me to write it, the obvious alternate title emerged: "Cute Butt". I stuck with the more poetic original, so sue me! And, as always with a Losgud story, enjoy!

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Consensual   Incest   Brother   Sister   .

I thought everyone else was already in bed. I knew my parents were. I assumed Emma was too, as I hadn't seen her for over an hour. It was after midnight, but still Friday night to me. After a week of my final year in high school, I was all about staying up late, having a snack, hoping to catch a so-bad-it's-good gem among the late night movies.

But then Emma stepped into the room. She was dressed for bed in a t-shirt that maybe should have been a little longer for wearing when not directly in bed. Or at least in her bedroom. If I walked around the house in just my briefs and a tee, I'd get yelled at. But then, even though she was my sister, she was still a girl. And the only thing I understood about girls was that I liked the way they looked. So firm, yet so soft.

She stared at the screen for about ten seconds. "This looks familiar. What is it?"

"It's The Van."

"Oh my god! really?"

"I thought you were in bed, like them."

"I was hanging out in my room, and I was going to bed for good, but not now!"

My sister Emma was a year younger than me, and we had a contentious relationship that drove Mom mad. The one truce we had was that we both loved staying up late on the weekends and discovering bad old movies on the late night t.v. It was so sweet: we would even share our snacks.

Half a year back, afterwards, we'd clicked off all the lights and gone down the hall to our respective bedrooms nodding and chatting about how The Van was the greatest movie ever made.

Usually we did mighty battle over the comfortable couch. It was actually way too short to ever stretch out on--unless you hung your legs over the one arm and got a bad crick in your neck from the other. Though on the perpendicular wall, it was damn close to the t.v.

This late and this tired, I was on the old lumpy sofa. Though directly but all the way across the room from the t.v., I could stretch out all I wanted. When Emma decided to join me, I wasn't surprised that she turned and walked over to the comfy couch. I was surprised when she simply grabbed a plump throw pillow, using it as a headrest as she settled on her belly on the carpet, directly between me and the t.v.

I really couldn't be faulted for getting distracted. I wasn't a pervert, but my sister did have a cute butt. And there it was, the hem of her shirt riding high. Nicely rounded panties, declining to just a strip of cloth dipping down to the central mystery of my young life.

I couldn't stand how hard I was getting. Like a slap on her ass I said, "Hey, Emma, you have a really cute butt, but maybe you don't mean to put it on such display."

Emma shrugged, keeping her gaze on the tube. "I don't care if you see my butt." After the tense pause, she did tug the shirt hem down, not that it made much difference. Except for the tone of her voice when she next spoke.

"If you want a closer look, guess you'll have to come down here."

The words hung in the air as the van attacked again. I had to take a pause all my own. I wasn't moving off the couch right away. I had a hard-on starting I needed to get under control first.

And then I did so get up to go kneel down alongside my own sister. From more directly above, her shirt hem had shifted up to just barely hint at her panties. I suddenly wondered if she even knew what she was showing. But then, she had basically invited me down beside her. There should be a big fat book for boys entitled What Girls Mean When They Say... , except it wouldn't have done me any good. It would've been hidden somewhere in my bedroom, not laying out on the coffee table in the livingroom.

I didn't know what to do next, except that what it seemed I should do next I did indeed do. I moved an open palm to gently cup a cheek of that cute butt, sliding the bottom of the shirt up to her waist and out of the way. Emma gave a little flinch when I first left my hand to stay, but once I'd touched it, there was no way I could ever leave off it. Her cute butt was so firm, yet so soft.

Emma kept watching the movie, unmoved, though she started twitching at the waist. The movie broke for commercials, and there I sat, massaging my sister's cute butt. Apparently, not only did she not care if I saw her cute butt, she also didn't mind if I molested it.

But from the fabric, my fingers retreated, regrouping a bit above her knee. Moving ever so slowly back up towards the fabric, but returning on the inner thigh trail.

"What are you doing?" she said in a whisper that cut across the commercials.

"Feeling how soft your skin is right here. Like silk. If you want me to stop, just say so." Emma said nothing. Her answer was to open her legs just slightly more than they'd been. My fingers slunk further up her smooth skin, until I encountered elastic. I moved my hand over the fabric, as though towards the elastic of the other leg, but I made so bold as to stop midway.

I had anatomy diagrams memorized from a Health class, so I had a grip of the terrain. Plus all the stuff that gets handed down from the older boys. Stir in a couple dirty magazines.

I knew nothing. I was embarrassed to be 17, with just a couple kisses under my belt. My fingers were focusing on the strip of cloth between little sister's legs. She canted her hips so I could better get a hand slipped down under her cute butt.

It was then that I realized I had no idea what was happening. None of it made any sense. My sister was letting me rub her pussy through her panties. In the middle of the family room floor. I'd just been watching a movie on t.v., and suddenly there I was, kneeling on the carpet beside Emma, with my wayward hand having made her want to arch up her cute butt enough I could slip further and actually touch her like that.

What was going on? This was such uncharted territory. There were no maps. I was touching a girl like that for the first time. Feeling the growing heat of a girl through the crotch of her panties, feeling that strip of fabric getting damp. With the girl being my sister, who seemed to be enjoying the attention.

Until suddenly Emma was rolling around, displacing my hand, and I figured ending it all. Framing me as some sort of pervert.

Instead, she rolled over onto her back. My hand moved back to her mound, with a much better angle of access. As I slowly stroked the crotch of her soaked panties, Emma sighed and spread her thighs even more. I played with her through the fabric until she just grabbed my wrist and steered me underneath, down the front of her panties, until my fingers encountered a swollen wetness I'd never touched before.

It was an awkward position, my arm coming down about perpendicular, my wrist trapped at nearly a right angle by the waistband. Emma figured it out with a smirk, reaching to shuck her panties down her thighs.

I had a finger smoothly inside her, when I got bold enough to touch one of the lumps in her shirt. "I want to see you," I played it lightly.

Emma gave a little laugh, then crossed her arms across her chest and looked uncomfortable. She gave a wry look. "I know they're not nearly as big as all the other boobs you've seen. And touched and stuff," she added with a shrug.

"I don't care about any of that," I whispered. "What I said was I want to see you."

She knitted her hands together and coughed up a self-conscious laugh.

"Please," I said. "After all, I am the boy who has a finger inside you. Up your tight little cunt," I snarled like a pirate.

With that, she gave a little giggle and untangled her fingers. They pulled the hem of her shirt up to her neck. My heart about stopped. I knew my sister didn't have big boobs--her shirts showed that. And that wasn't my interest. What I wasn't prepared for was the shock when her shirt did come up. Emma had such perfect little breasts, I was drooling before I was aware of it. I was totally deep in deer-in-headlights territory.

"My god," I muttered, "you're an angel."

"You're allowed to touch them," my sister said quietly. "If I'm showing them to you, it means I want you to touch me."

I wasted no time there, though taking my time before moving my lips down to take a stiff nipple into my mouth for the first time in my life. Emma groaned her gratitude as I moaned mine.

I pulled away, eventually, moving my mouth back up to hers. I bit down the side of her neck, until I whispered in her ear. My free hand closed on her closest breast. "Want to know something secret and special?"

"Yes," she purred.

Tugging on her nipple for emphasis, I murmured, "Yours are the first I've ever seen. Much less touched or kissed or sucked." And then I slid around the finger I had up inside her. "Emma, I've never touched a girl like this before."

Emma grabbed my head and tugged until we were touching noses. Her eyes were sparkling. "Really? You're a virgin, too?"

I nodded my shame.

"Technically, I guess I'm not," she spoke.

I was contemplating the vagaries of possible technicalities when she said, "Remember last spring when I was at field hockey practice and wound up in the emergency room?"

I well remembered a frantic call from Mom, the hours of worry about my sister being in the hospital for some undisclosed injury. And then they came home and no one told me nothing, and all I could see was that Emma walked a little funny until she went to bed and woke up healed.

"I never had any idea what that was all about."

"Yea, I lost my cherry to a hockey stick between my legs." Emma leaned into me, and we shared a long lingering kiss. "Want to know something else secret and special?"


"You're the first boy I've ever kissed. Not to mention letting stick a finger inside me." Then she reached down and squirmed her panties to her knees. She also pulled my hand from between her legs, planting it on her unoccupied breast. Then her hands grabbed my waistbands, yanking me naked from waist to mid-thigh. Her small hand gave my hard cock a firm squeeze, and I was sold. She tugged me atop her, between her legs. "Let's just do this."

I was worried about all the concerns I'd learned in Health class several years before. I made the mention, noting I didn't have any rubbers. Emma smiled up at me. "When I first started getting periods, I had terrible cramps. Going on the Pill really helps, and is really common. And I want us to enjoy the benefits of the side-effects."

Emma reached down between us and steered me, stabbing her exactly. The plumpness of my head was pillowed in her swollen lips. "Are you sure?" I asked one last time. I looked down on my sister like a perfect gentleman, just drooling to have at her.

"I've never been more certain about anything in my entire life."

There were moans in stereo as I parted her gates. The combined sounds were the gibberish of the goose and the gander, agreeing on what was good for the both of them.

I slid up inside my sister slowly, gently, wanting to make my Emma glow. Every inch was excruciating. I gasped, "God, you feel so good."

"Tell me about it," Emma whined.

"I never expected anything like this," I whimpered.

Emma nibbled up the side of my neck, nipped at my earlobe, and then giggled low with her tongue in my ear as her hips hunched up against me. "It's because it's you and me," she cooed.

And that it was, though much more. I wasn't just fucking my sister. It wasn't just we were two virgins getting extremely lucky. As I sunk all the way into her, widening her eyes, Emma circled me with her arms first, then her legs around my waist. She clutched me as I penetrated her, and then we watched faces. Happy faces. Very happy faces.

Looking down at Emma's face, as she recovered from an orgasm-out-of-nowhere, I couldn't put on the brakes. My swooping emotions won the election. I looked down into Emma's beautiful eyes, already deeply and darkly in love.

With thinking all that, too, I got so excited I couldn't hold back anymore. Finally getting to do it, I wanted it to last longer. I wanted to make my sister feel good again before ... but suddenly it was too late. My eyes went wide fast, and Emma giggled. I got really big really fast, and then my stuff was spurting out. It was Emma's turn to get surprised again, her eyes wide, and the drenching again between us.

I lay draped across my sister. I knew I probably weighed like 500 pounds, but I could scarcely move a muscle. Emma shifted us slightly, murmuring about my pointy hip bone. I made a valiant effort to disengage. Emma disagreed, moving all her limbs to hold me in place. "I want you here always," she whispered. It was even longer after I'd shrunk enough to slip out of her naturally that she finally let me slide off to adorn her side.

I was glad to have shot off. To have that pressure relieved. That left me free to touch my sister inappropriately, just lightly, soothing fingertips as we cuddled.

"Like I said before, any time you want me to stop, just say so."

Emma shifted her hips, urging me on. "You keep saying that. Have I ever said stop? Why would I want you to stop?"

It didn't take too long before I was stirring again. Pressing up against the side of her rump. She gave a little giggle, feeling me. "What?" she said. "Just because I let you fuck me once, you think I'll let you fuck me again?"

"Exactly," I insisted. I pulled Emma over to face me, running a hand down her flank. My errant hand was squeezing one side of her behind as I stated the truth. "Because what boy in the world will worship you and your cute butt more than me?"

What I said worked. Emma shot my a shy smile and then kissed me. The kiss was just starting getting going when she playfully moved away. She rolled and lay down on her tummy, in the exact position from which we'd started. This time, though, she pulled her legs up so her hind was raised up on her knees. My sister put herself on display. She was, in the words of nature programs, presenting herself.

"If you like my cute butt that much, maybe you'd like doing it this way." Her voice was tentative. "A friend of mine said something about this. About how boys really like it, and it feels so good too."

I wasn't really sure what she was talking about, so I rose up on my knees and moved behind my sister, waiting to find out. The way she was spread was so sexy. I had my hands all over her cute butt, the cheeks separated by the distance between her knees. I could clearly see the shut eye of her other hole; I'd heard about such things.

I was so glad I hadn't acted on some assumption when I felt Emma reach between us, seizing me and guiding me back between the slick folds of her pussy. I grabbed her hips and joined in.

Quickly Emma and I were both having sex for the second times in our lives. Again with each other. And it was even better then the previous best thing ever. I lasted a lot longer, which she kept appreciating. As I was getting close, she did some gymnastics that just about did me in.

Without losing me, she rolled onto her back, leaving me to dodge her legs. She held me close and began bucking her hips up against me. "I like to watch you when you come." My sister got her wish in under two minutes of that.

Emma kept me on top of her, longly, well after I'd shrunk out of her.

She liked feeling me on top of her, pinning me down like a butterfly.

Finally I managed to slide off to her side. She replied by rolling me over completely, accompanying me, so that suddenly the weight of her was pressing down on me. It felt good. Really good. And totally natural.

"Am I crushing you?"

I wrapped my arms around her waist, my hands scurrying off on their own to squeeze her cute butt. "You feel so wonderful against me."

We'd both dodged a couple glances at the blue numerals telling the time on the VCR. Emma leaned down for a long lovely kiss. When she came up for air, she whispered, "It's really late."

I could read, numbers still at least. After 2:30. We both got up, stood on our feet, only to bend down and pick up our clothing. Stark naked. We touched and kissed as we passed. When she bent down to pick up her panties, I gave her cute butt a spank. When I retrieved my shorts, she returned the favor.

All our clothing gathered, we stood facing one another. "We need to have a lovely talk, but not tonight. I'm so excited again, but no, it's really time for us to go to bed. Most unfortunately, to our own separate beds."

When I woke up, it was just nudging eight. I really did not want to be awake, so I quickly gave in to the nudging. I did the sleepy stumble down the hall to the bathroom, where I had a piss like a horse. If a horse could piss that much, and keep it in a bowl. That's why horses didn't get to live in houses. They had to stay in barns, where it didn't really matter if you pissed all over the floor. Where, in fact, that was kind of expected. All that straw, like the sawdust on the floor of old saloons.

My stupid sleepy brain just wouldn't stop, like it thought it was still supposed to be dreaming. I was choking back giggles so hard I couldn't help but twitch around, spraying the toilet seat, and also soiling the floor. I was no better than a horse!

After the last dribble I used extra toilet paper to mop up my mess. I'd just finished flushing the toilet, glad that it all went down, when I had a sudden itch on the side of my nose. My right hand went up for the scratch, and immediately it was like the palm of my hand was like an oxygen mask. Except all I breathed in was the smell of Emma. Just from holding myself while I peed.

I wasn't trying to pretend maybe it was all a dream--I certainly had a handful of evidence--it was just that the only thing on my brain's front burner, aside from horses, was having a the pee I needed to then go back to sleep.

I sniffed at my hand long enough to feel like a pervert. I decided instead to be industrious. A very fast shower would make me smell less like a pervert, and maybe wake me up enough to face the early day.

The second part didn't work. It took me forever to towel off. I kept yawning and dozing off. Finally I was back in my jams going back to my room. Right then was when Mom came out of their room, dressed for the day. She was genuinely shocked by the sight of me.

"You're certainly up early. And already showered! Are you up for good?"

"What do you think? I got up to use the bathroom, and then I thought a quick shower might get my day started early. Guess what? I was wrong."

"Go kiss your pillow some more," she commanded. "But don't sleep away the day." Mom tousled my wet hair. "Next time I see you," she laughed, "you'll be sporting some amazing bed head!"

When next I woke up, it was a bit past ten. Normally, the soothing sounds of water flowing would have been the culprit, but since I didn't need to pee, it was the clunk of the water shutting off that woke me. Since it was the hall bath, that would be Emma finishing a shower. It had to be her.

Because I certainly wasn't taking a shower. I was in my bed wishing I could sleep for another hour. I knew that would involve an extra 45 minutes of trying-to-fall-back-asleep time, so I gave up and got up.

I'd just stepped out of my room when Emma entered the hall too, fresh out of the bathroom, dressed like a girl fresh from a shower. My sister smelled like flowers, and was wearing nothing but towels. One was turbaned around her wet hair like she was an ancient Egyptian sex-goddess. The effect was helped by the slightly larger towel, wrapped around her torso, hanging just below her cute butt and knotted just above her breasts.

The effect went ballistic as I saw her eyes light up at the sight of me. Emma did the slow rush down the hall until she was within inches of me. Looking up at me, smiling hugely and dripping wet. "Hi," she quietly greeted me.

A shiver ran through her like someone had walked on her grave. "Hello, lover," she clarified. My sister leaned up and gave me a chaste kiss on the lips.

She stepped back and looked at me, and then said, "Thank you for last night."

"Thank you," I responded.

"No," she declared, emphatic, "Thank you."

And then Emma touched me.

I'd stepped into the hall thickened between my legs. I'd waited some measures for it to go down. I had morning wood redux. It couldn't be called a piss erection because I'd gotten that done back around eight. I'd certainly gotten it going down before I dared step into the hallway.

Watching Emma sway down the hall towards me didn't do me any good, at least in the deflating department.

And then Emma touched me again, and kept her touch on me. The circus was suddenly in town, the big tent rising horizontally from my crotch. Puds were dumb--I knew that from experience. Mine kept trying to poke its way through the front slit of my boxers. Like there was some sort of maze involved first.

Even when Emma got a hand directly involved, she got frustrated fast enough to just yank my boxers to my ankles. Then she sank down to her knees and giggled a little. "Time for more practice to make perfect."

She gripped me at the base, then slowly slipped the rest of me into her mouth.

"What are you doing?" I exclaimed half-heartedly. It was a rhetorical question.

"You're thinking too much," she replied anyway. "I'm just giving my new lover a blow-job."

"But Mom's right downstairs," I mumbled, not at all wanting her to stop.

"So you have two jobs. Listening for Mom coming up the stairs; and if she doesn't, coming in my mouth."

She explored my cock, with her lips and her tongue, learning what things made me moan.

"Be quiet," she hissed.

I had my two jobs, but quite frankly I was concentrating on just the one. If Mom had come up the stairs, I wouldn't have stopped the sight of her son in just a tee getting a blow-job from her daughter--his towel-shedding sister.

Her head wrap tumbled off with her first bobbings. Just the act of kneeling down had caused the knotted big towel to slip and fall from her tits to her hips.

Mom stayed at the base of the stairs, hollering up, "C'mon, kids, get up!"

"I'm coming," I answered truthfully, as I shot off into Emma's mouth. I kept quiet. "I'm totally up," even as I went down.

"What about your sister?"

"Sounds like she's getting up, too."

Which she did, up off her knees, while licking her lips at me. Her breasts were already on display, having shrugged off that terry cloth veil. The central knot itself had been fatally compromised. In standing up, she shed the towel completely. It puddled on the floor in a shape sort of like a giant sea shell. Emma stood in it, totally naked, like that famous painting, except my sister's eyes were much glitterier.

She bent at very specific angles to pick up her towels.

That done, she stood a little away from me, dangling her towels. Like I was suddenly unleashed, I rushed the steps to seize her and slay her with a ferocious kiss. Emma's mouth tasted pretty spermy, and that seemed to make her squirm even more. Finally I stepped back. "You're not an angel, you're the devil!"

Emma lowered her head slightly, just enough to give me glowering eyes. "Finally figured that out, huh?" Then she drew up to me enough to give a paper thin kiss on my lips. She leaned back in glee. "Better get used to it."

My very fingertips were lightly dancing all over her cute butt. "I'm sure I will."

Then she went in her room and I was the guy who had to go downstairs, down into the kitchen to hang out with Mom and pretend I hadn't just gotten blown by my own sister. After a night of banging her. I sat down at the table to steady myself.

When Mom saw me, she gave her lilting laugh. "You look slightly more refreshed than when I saw you last."

"Well, that's probably because I just got the best blow-job of my life. In fact, it was my first blow-job. And Emma did it. It was her first blow-job, too. Perhaps we should make pancakes in celebration."

Thankfully Mom wasn't wearing her teenage son grunt decoder ring, so she was kept in the dark. And then Emma entered the room. She too sat down at the table, and then Mom laughed. "Look at you two! A matched set, so sleepy still. How late did you guys stay up?"

"It was well after two," I admitted.

"Was the movie worth it?"

"Ohhh," I drawled, "it was really good."

"Though," Emma looked at me, "also very bad." Then she added, "I was on my way to bed when I poked into the room. When I saw he was watching that movie again, I stayed."

Mom stared at us like we were retards. "You guys stayed up halfway 'til dawn watching a bad movie rerun?"

I caught Emma's eye. "Well, the first time was really great."

"And the second time was even better," she winked back.

By that point in the conversation, Mom was at the counter directly behind Emma, concentrating on refreshing her mug from the coffee machine. Emma took a hand to her chin, as though she had a thought, or an itch, just to reach an index finger to her mouth to lick and suck, the visual purely for my advantage.

My sister really was the devil. And my soul was readily sold for pennies on the dollar. Especially when she pulled the stretch-enough neck of her shirt down to flash a little tit.

But then Mom stepped swift back from the counter, speaking in her decision voice. I wasn't paying much attention to what she started saying; I was busy watching Emma get her boob back in her shirt.

Then Mom came in loud and clear. "Knowing you two as well as I do, I'm setting some laws for today."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Look at you. Look at your sister. I know what's going on. I'm clairvoyant--I see the future."

I gave a side glance at my sister. Emma looked as chilled as I felt.

Mom clearly had our attention. "I've noticed the patterns."

I couldn't imagine the patterns she was seeing. I couldn't imagine her words as anything but the preface to about how Emma and I were so busted. Even though we'd hardly had the time to create patterns.

But then Mom went off on a different narrative. "After this late breakfast, you guys will putter around and then maybe have a little lunch, and then off to your naps you'll go.

I was so relieved she was so off-track, I sputtered, "But it's Saturday!"

"You have a lawn that needs mowing. And you," she turned to Emma, "have a house that needs vacuuming. So get your jobs done and plan your naps accordingly. I'm heading out around two to run some errands, and then I'm going to be doing the big grocery trip. I should return around four. My wise children will be wide awake to help me haul in and put away the provisions. Unless you want to meet a bitchy mom."

I had my incentive. I'd get the lawn done so fast I'd knock Emma to the floor while she was still working the vacuum in the livingroom.

The intervening hours were so terrible I wound up in the garage starting up the lawnmower, just hoping for some activity that would make my dick go down. Mowing the lawn sort of did that. It felt so good, or at least did such a good job, that I made a good job better. After doing the mowing, I went back in and did a thorough job with the trimming and edging. I made the extra effort to make the yard sparkle.

Mom didn't notice. When I came in the back door, she looked out the window just enough to see that that frame of grass was indeed short. And then I was off for a shower. It was a nice spattering of quiet and solitude. The last thing I needed after the roars of lawn tools was a house resounding with the scream of a vacuum cleaner.

I dried and dressed in my room. My room was now in a quiet house. The only sound was of the shower, as Emma scrubbed her naked body of the inside filth.

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