Cathie and Chris

They ate their pizza at the kitchen table, listening to quiet music. Cathie noted that Chris had showered and shaved and was wearing near-new jeans and shirt. She asked herself if she should attach any significance to that.

An hour later as they sat side-by-side on the big soft couch watching 'The Shootist,' an old western movie, she decided her brother's sprucing himself up did not have an ulterior motive. She felt a little let down when he made no move toward her. In fact he barely glanced at her, seeming to be engrossed in John Wayne's on-screen predicament.

The movie ended, Cathie went into the kitchen and made them both a cup of tea. Settling herself comfortably to drink, she tucked her legs up on the couch in such a way that her knee lightly touched her brother's hip. Hoping he would think it accidental she contrived to allow her shirt to ride up exposing the edge of her pretty red lace panties.

Chris sipped his tea. "That movie was really good I reckon,"

"Yeah, I guess so." Cathie wriggled, pushing her knee against him. "You chose it because in the story he had cancer, didn't you?"

Feigning nonchalance he certainly didn't feel, Chris casually placed a hand on her bare thigh. "Sort of, but it's probably my favourite of The Duke's movies."

Tea finished, Cathie placed her cup on the side table and raised her arms to stretch like a cat. "Mm, maybe."

"Um, about the other day..." He began uncertainly.

"Don't fret about it!" She interrupted. "I was confused. Conflicted. I still am. I don't know what to think, but it was fun until I chickened." She finished shyly.

Encouraged, Chris moved his hand higher up her leg and tugged the lace of her panties. "Pretty knickers Sis."

The smack she gave his wrist was more of a pat and her voice was just a husky whisper. "Keep your hands to yourself."

Laughing, he dragged her legs across his lap causing her shirt to push up up to her waist. "Who's gonna make me?"

Cathie's voice was quivery. "We shouldn't be doing this, but if I relapse I may never get a chance..."

"Shush." Without any further preliminaries Chris started to pull the panties down.

She squealed and clamped her thighs together in a token attempt to prevent him. "You mustn't look at me there."

"Why not?"

"You know why not." Cathie turned her face away. "One, you're my brother. You're never, ever, supposed to see me there, and two, it's embarrassing, the more so because, um, I'm bald there too."

He pulled harder and the little undergarment sprang free, sliding part way down her thighs. "So you are. Woo, so...er, so beautiful."

"Don't say that!"

With the lightest of touches Chris's calloused fingertips stroked the satiny skin. "I mean it,"

Cathie involuntarily bucked her hips toward his teasing hand. Her wanting battled with her embarrassment. She parted her legs, relaxed her ineffective grip on the panties, allowing him to remove them completely. The movements fully exposed her sweet little vagina. The pale smooth skin of her plump mound totally devoid of hair, like a child, but not like a child. She no longer had an innocent, undeveloped, childish crease between her thighs. No. She now possessed an adult woman's ripe, fuckable cunt, with its pale pink inner lips and juicy folds begging to be explored. Ripe, ripe, ripe for him and his trembling cock.

But first her pretty pussy needed to be kissed. He puckered up and nuzzled the dainty edges apart to gain access to the succulent inner reaches. His nose nudged that pea-sized bump nestled under it's little pink hood. His tongue probed and tasted.

Cathie was ecstatic. With her fingers twined in Chris's hair, she writhed and shuddered, all her earlier concerns forgotten in the utter joy of the moment. Her orgasm hit with stunning speed and power, leaving her weak and trembling.

Head and shoulders still on the couch, she rolled off his lap and knelt on the floor, her cheek resting on a cushion. "Oh my God Chris! I can't believe how wonderful that was."

They remained apart, silent, their emotions in turmoil.

Cathie broke the spell. "You know the chemo made me sterile?"

Did she mean what he thought she did? "You mean you want me to...?

"Yes...please."

Chris stood and urgently removed his clothing then knelt naked behind Cathie, pushing her knees apart with his own, he encircled her waist with his left arm and with his right hand guided his stiff cock between her smooth thighs.

"I love you Cathie." He whispered, nudging at the wet, yielding softness of her cunt with the very tip of his cock, until he felt those lips parting.

Cathie whimpered, "Gently Darling," but leaned further forward and raised her rump to accommodate the entry of his hardness into her already satisfied body.

With infinite care he tenderly penetrated her, then remained still, leaning over her back with both arms embracing her and her plump bottom cheeks settled against his crotch. They remained thus for several minutes. Not moving, savouring the physical sensations until their growing excitement demanded action.

Slowly, gently Chris slid his cock almost out, then in again. "I can hardly believe this is happening. I've been wanting to fuck to you for years."

She matched his gentle rhythm. "That's very wicked of you. So wrong."

"I know. But so damn good."

"Mm. Yes."

In a while he became still again, his entire self becoming deliciously taut as his hot cum, the very substance of his improper wanting, spurted deep inside his sister's body.

Afterwards they gathered up their clothes, retired to Cathie's bedroom, and snuggled fulfilled and naked in the cocoon of her bed. To Chris, just being in his sister's room was an erotic experience. To be in her bed, naked in her bed was overwhelming. That the object of his desire, of his fantasies, was naked and nestled against him was almost more than his overstimulated mind could grasp.

"You mustn't stay too long Chris," Cathie warned, "Mum and Dad might be home any minute."

He tenderly kissed her full lips and sat up. "Yeah. I better go now, before I get ideas."

"Mm, same here, so hurry up and finish my flat," she called as he left her room. "Then we can get ideas whenever we like."

Summer weather in Melbourne Australia is notoriously unpredictable. Hot wind was humming through the freshly painted lattice-work as the young couple stood hand in hand on the lawn and gazed happily at the completed flat.