I got in late, somewhere in the hazy place between late night and early morning, but the heat had not let up. The inside of the house was just as dark and humid as the outside, and I waded through it as I made my quiet way from the door to the kitchen, fumbling a little until I saw the light peeking from around the corner.
As I said, it was hot, so it figures that my sister would be looking for something cool to drink. She was silhouetted in the light of the refrigerator, wreathed in the vapor pouring off the racks. As she bent to peer at something inside, the light slid down her supple back and over the sheer panties that hugged her ass. Beneath that flimsy gauze nestled a pair of soft pink lips, hugged by the swell of her thighs. My breath caught in my throat, and at the sound she snapped erect.
“Oh, Johnny!” she said, turning. “You scared me.” As she twisted, the refrigerator light played down her bare, smooth stomach. She was wearing a white, loose-fitting button-up, and it swayed with her movement. My eyes followed the light up to where it glistened in her cleavage. The material seemed molded over her breasts. She gave a sweet, sisterly smile and rubbed her fingers into her wet neck. “I woke up covered in sweat,” she said. “Was looking for something, but I think I was really just enjoying the cold.”
I tried not to stare, and she gave the slightest of tugs across her chest to pull the shirt a little closer together. “So how’d it go, stud?”
I met her at the refrigerator, her big eyes looking up at me, the trickles of sweat on her upper lip shining in the light. I wiped at them, and she giggled and batted my hand away. “It was nice,” I said. “You know, she’s working on her Masters, looking at some jobs in Pittsburgh.”
Monica leaned into the door, laying her cheek into her palm and tucking one arm up under her chest. “I didn’t ask what she’s working on, I asked how the date went.”
“Ah, well,” I said. “Kiss on the doorstep. She told me to call her.”
“Mm,” she said. Her finger made a slow, soft circle over her lip. “That’s all?”
I shrugged. Behind my damp shirt, my heart was beating at my ribcage like a hammer.
“Samantha’s really pretty.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“What’s your favorite part of her body?”
“Well,” I said, my eyes sliding down to my sister’s bellybutton, and lower, to the translucent panties that did little more than turn her pubic mound a shade of violet. “She does have great tits.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah,” I said. “She wore this great low-cut top. She knew what she was working with. The kind of tits you just want to grab and rub your face in.”
“But you didn’t get to.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
“Did you ask?”
I grinned. “You know, that was the one thing I didn’t try.”
“Oh,” she made a cynical and yet still sympathetic face, “you must be so disappointed.”
As if the idea just came to her, her face suddenly lit up. “I think I can help. I know they’re not Sam’s, but… what do you think…” She bit her lip, and with shy eyes, she held my gaze and slid her fingers down to her open shirt. With a look of surprise, as if she herself were unsure whose hands were doing it, she gently slid the shirt back over her breasts. That slow, soft reveal made me ache, and I watched as the pale skin swelled with her quickened breath. They were ripe. They were heavy. Her nipples were pink, bright pink, and already hard. A light sheen of sweat made her skin glisten in the frigid light.
“Those are very nice,” I said quietly.
“Are they the kind you’d want to…?”
“Yes,” I said.
Monica took a small step forward, her bare toes brushing my shoes. “Well, don’t take too long,” she whispered. “Mom and dad are sleeping upstairs.”
I didn’t so much bend as fall down on my sister’s tits, rubbing my cheek into her cleavage with a deep exhalation of relief. Monica jumped a little as my hot breath hit her cold nipples, and she cradled the back of my head as I reached forward to roll each breast in my palms. She gave a lusty giggle as I licked her, encircling the left nipple with my lips, sucking it hard until she stamped on the floor to keep from screaming. I squeezed, and her knees went a little weak. I kissed the other breast, and fondled my way down her stomach before we managed to separate.
Monica took a step back with her eyes shut and her palm dug deep into her neck. “Mm,” she said. “Well. I hope that was satisfactory.” She pressed her lips together and wiped her hair back from her forehead. Then, after a beat, she opened her eyes and looked down at the space between us. “Oh. Johnny.”
My sister crouched down on the kitchen tile until her face was waist-level. With a concerned grimace, she put her hands on my thighs. “Can you even walk with a hardon like that?”
My breath came ragged out of my mouth. “No, sis, I don’t think I can.”
“Well.” She frowned, then bit her lip and looked up at me. “How can I help?”
“I think if you pull it out and put it between your tits, that might work.”
“You sure?” she asked as she undid my belt. The zipper sounded so loud. Her touch – cold, eager fingers – made my cock pulse and leap out at her. “Oh, baby, you’re so pent up,” she said. She licked her palm and slid it down my shaft. “I don’t know if my tits are enough.” She came closer until her breasts squeezed against my thighs. My cock pushed against her chin as she batted her eyes up at me. “Do you want to put it in my mouth?”
“Put it in your mouth.”
She slid her palm down my shaft. “Anything for you, big brother.”
First licking around the fat head and then gingerly sliding it down her tongue, Monica closed her eyes as she swallowed my cock. She took it so fast that I had to brace myself against the refrigerator and the kitchen island, and she took it so deep that she no longer had to use her hands. Her fingers wrapped around my body, gripping my ass, as she balanced my balls on her lip. I pulled out, slowly, and softly slid myself back in until she closed her lips around me, sealing me there so she could rub my cockhead against the back of her throat. It was my turn to go weak in the knees.
I combed my fingers through my sister’s hair and finally pulled her off, saliva and pre-cum dribbling down her chin. “Bend over,” I said.
“Mom and dad are upstairs,” she said again, even as she wiped her mouth and got to her feet. I helped her rise, and then I pushed her head down into the refrigerator and peeled her panties down her thighs. I rubbed my cockhead against the crack of her moist ass. “But I’ve never had one that big in me before,” she whispered to me. I watched the cold air swirl around her heavy breasts as they dangled above the lemonade.
“I’ll make it fit,” I said.
Even if she’d been telling the truth, nothing could have kept me out of Monica’s tight pussy. By the time I slid my fingers into her she was pouring like a faucet. I stroked the front of her vagina with my fingers, letting her ride me down to the knuckle as she worked her G spot, and then I pulled them out and licked her juices from my fingertips. I wrapped my fingers around my cock and pushed it into those soft, pink lips.
“Anything for you, big brother.”
I drove my member into her sopping cunt and her knuckles turned white as they clenched on my arm. I slapped her ass as she pushed back into me, the cold air tickling her nipples, her lip bleeding from biting it so hard. I thrust, and we struggled to keep our silence (even though the sound of her wet sex inviting me in would have been unmistakable to anyone awake in that house). She grunted with the effort, and my fingers dug into her thighs. I pushed, and pushed, and pushed, feeling – not for the first time, and certainly not the last – that I’d never been so hard or so horny as when Monica softly called my name. “Fuck me, Johnny,” she whispered.
Despite the refrigerator, the sweat poured down our muscles. “Fuck me, Johnny,” she whispered. I slid my hand down her arched back and gripped her by the shoulder. “Unh,” she grunted. “Right there.” I thrust. “That’s it.” I thrust. “Yesss…”
At last she said, “I want to watch you cum in me.” I pulled out, I pulled off my shirt, pulled off hers, and wadded them on the ground to cushion her tailbone. She grabbed my shoulders, hooked her ankles over my back, and I entered her on the kitchen floor, her eyes burning into me, her body hanging from mine as I punished my knees and fucked her good and hard on the tiles. “I waited for you all day, Johnny,” she moaned into my mouth. Her tongue licked the sweat off my chin. “All day. Fuck me. All day. Fuck me!” She pulled my palm off the ground and planted it over her lips as she screamed her orgasm. Then I was shooting too, filling her cunt, emptying my balls. Her eyes went wide as they traveled from my face to my waist, watching where we connected, watching as I inseminated her. Her thighs shivered and jiggled and tried to grip me, but we were a tangle of limbs by the end, sore and uncomfortable on the kitchen floor.
Monica somehow extricated herself and laid me flat on the tile so she could suck the last of the cum out of my flaccid cock. She moaned into it as she worked, loving the feeling of my seed trickling down her tongue. Then she crawled over my chest to kiss me. Our tongues met, swirled, tasting each other’s essences, and then she wiped my mouth and smiled. “We need to get upstairs,” she said. “I’m sleepy.”