Charlie and Mindy Bk. 01 Ch. 04

Still holding her at my height, I backed away from our kiss and looked at her; she returned the look.

"Mmm," I said. "This is really nice. I love to feel you against me. Your tits feel so good."

She grinned at me. "I like it, too. I'm glad you like my tits against you, because I sure like them there. I just wish they were bigger so they'd make you even happier."

I grinned back at her. "They're perfect," I said. "More than a mouthful is conspicuous consumption."

"Oooo, you're nasty. But I'll bet you going to be nastier pretty soon."

"You're about to find out, you dirty little girl."

Still grinning, we lay down on the pads facing each other. We held each other close and kissed, deeply and hungrily, again and again. I trailed my mouth off from hers—to her ear first, where I kissed and nibbled.

"Mmmm. That turns me on; it gives me goose bumps."

I continued a bit, and then moved on down her neck and over the front of her shoulder to her nipple again. As I tweaked it with my lips and teased it with my tongue, I stroked down her side to her hip. I found her belt buckle, unfastened it. I unhooked the waist button of her shorts and undid the zipper. My hand snaked down into her shorts, and I found the opening of the fly in her boxers, reached through, cupped her mound. Her hips rocked gently, rubbing the head of her cleft against the heel of my hand. She moaned softly. My middle finger searched, found the soft, hot, moist flesh of her inner lips, stroked it—calling forth another moan.

Gently, she pulled away from me and got up.

"Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back with you."

She started to take off her pants.

I reached for my own belt buckle. "No," she said. "You stop that. After I get my own pants off, I want to take yours off."

So I watched as she lowered her own pants. She faced away from me and pulled them down to her knees. As she stood on one foot to remove a shoe, her thighs parted, and I could see her pussy. The view from behind and below was new to me, and my cock surged in response.

Her shorts no longer constrained her to keep her knees close together as she removed the second shoe, and that gave me an even better view of her crotch, fore and aft. Her inner lips protruded slightly from her furrow. My cock surged again.

Once she had her pants off, she dropped to her knees beside me, still facing my feet. Bending forward, she reached for my foot and began to remove my shoe. As she did so, she treated me to a marvelous view of the cleft, nearly hairless, mound nestling between her thighs. I don't remember much about my shoes coming off, except for repeated surges of my cock; the landscape she'd displayed was too engrossing.

After she had taken my shoes off, she sat back and undid my belt and pants. She reached in and fondled my cock, which surged again. After a giving it a short 'howdy-do,' she grabbed my shorts and boxers, told me to lift my "big clunky ass," and drew them all the way down—coming once more up on all fours and revealing again her secret glory. She pulled them down over my feet and tossed them over to the side. Unexpectedly, she threw a leg over me, straddled me, and sat down—just below my breastbone, facing my feet—and my cock. The hot wetness of her pussy slid against me; my cock surged in response.

"You big dumb bully!" she exclaimed victoriously. "I told you I'd have you flat on your ass, and here you are!"

"I call a foul!" I yelled. "That was the dirtiest, sneakiest, cheatingest… Oh, God… Oh, my God…"

I trailed off; she had grasped my cock with both hands, and begun to work them up and down on it. My hips bucked in response. My arms flopped uselessly.

"No," she said, after several strokes. "Not like this. That would be too easy for you." I couldn't see her face, but I could hear her evil grin in her tone.

She stopped, removed her hands, and began to stroke my cock with the tips of her fingers, teasing me with her delicate touch—when what I really wanted was something more robust. I groaned. I writhed under her.

Sensing that I was getting closer to coming than she wanted, she moved her hands to my hips, stroked them. Then she stroked my thighs—outsides first, followed by the front and then the insides. As she stroked the insides of my thighs, she fleetingly touched my balls every now and then. Each time she did so, my cock surged and she uttered a little moaning chuckle. She was enjoying what she was doing as much as I was—maybe more.

When she thought I'd calmed down a little, she again took my cock into her hands. But she didn't stroke it as she had before; she had something else in mind. Slowly she bent over, brought her mouth down, and kissed my crown. Her lips parted and my little sister began to slide my cock into her mouth, slowly, teasingly, but without pause, until, once again, she had taken my entire length into her mouth.

The sensation she brought overwhelmed me—as it had the evening before. While she held my cock—all of it—in her mouth, I was conscious of nothing but the heat and moisture I felt. However, as before, she couldn't contain my full length for long. And so, much too soon, she slowly backed most of me out.

As she backed away and that overwhelming sensation subsided, I suddenly realized that I had a commanding view of her treasures. When she had bent over to apply her mouth to my cock, she'd raised herself off my chest, and she'd backed up a little. As a result, her femininity was just inches from my face, and I saw it from another perspective that was entirely new to me. It was fascinating.

I had, literally in my face, something that called for my attention almost as strongly as the action of her mouth on my cock. She had washed herself only hours earlier, but enough time had passed to allow her heady natural fragrance to reassert itself. That, too, had something to do with my reaction. Above her mound I could see all of her secret treasures, revealed by the way she'd spread her legs to straddle me.

She hadn't quit working on my cock; her mouth continued to move, up and down, up and down, and that was quite a distraction. A man just doesn't think very well when a woman is sucking his cock. But the view I had of her pussy and her ass demanded that I do something. And so did the fact that she thought she was in control at the moment. So I stuck out my tongue, brought my head up, and—firmly, definitely, and with malice aforethought—I licked the wrinkled little brown orifice that was now just above her pussy.

Being absorbed in what she was doing, she had not thought about what a target she'd presented me, and I surprised her completely. The effect was everything I could have hoped for. She started violently, and shrieked. That is, she tried to shriek; it came out as a muffled squawk because my cock was in the way.

Taking her mouth from my cock, she said "Ohhh, you're nasty! What a Filthy Thing to do to an innocent young woman!" I could hear the capital "F" and the capital "T" quite clearly.

And she said. "Do it again!"

So I did. She wiggled her ass back toward me as I did. I stiffened my tongue and pointed it, so that her wiggling caused the tip to penetrate her sphincter ever so slightly. She moaned and continued her backward pressure. The tip slipped a little farther in.

I let it rest there for a few seconds, before I pulled it back. I lowered my sights and brought my tongue down to her pussy. She wiggled back into me even more as I did that. That was when I remembered that I had arms—which reached all the way out to hands. So I raised them, clasped her thighs, and helped her wiggle herself back into my face. Then it was her turn to forget her agenda in the onslaught of the sensation I was giving her.

It was a while before she recalled what she'd been doing. Then she managed to summon enough concentration to take my cock back into her mouth and stroke it a few times. That distracted me, and I stopped what I was doing. Of course, then she could concentrate more fully on my cock, making me forget my purpose. After a bit, I remembered, and I found the strength to bring my tongue again to its target. Being thus unable to use our mouths on each other simultaneously, we wound up taking turns.

Mom had been right: Taking turns with each other's toys is a Good Thing.

But taking turns surely delayed our climaxes, for she would bring me closer to the brink while retreating herself—only to give up the initiative to me and come closer to her own precipice while I moved away from mine. Then she would take the initiative away from me, and so on. As a result, and in spite of the fact that I had not yet learned how to exert any control (or even that I could exert control), I lasted considerably longer than I had the evening before.

By then, each of us wanted to make the other come first, so both of us stumbled toward orgasm, taking ten steps forward only to fall nine steps back. But when a man and a woman race to make each other come first, the woman has a natural advantage: From the biological point of view, the male orgasm is a necessity, while the female orgasm is a luxury. To this, Mindy added her unmatchable determination. The outcome was inevitable: I lost the race.

After several cycles, I managed, barely, to interrupt her just in time to keep from coming. I worked as furiously as I knew how on her clit, hoping to bring her off before she could regain her composure. I felt her coordination beginning to go, and I thought for a second that I had won. But she brought her mouth again to my cock, swirled her tongue around its head, and began to slide her lips over me again. I stiffened my tongue and worked even harder on her clit, and she paused in her descent. But only for a second or two. She deep-throated me again, very briefly, before she began to slide her mouth up and down me once more.

I was done for. She had pulled the trigger that lies deep in the roots of my cock, and seconds later my hips bucked uncontrollably as the first pulse of cum shot from me. Sweet agony overcame me as jet after jet flew out of me. And as I came, she took me so deeply into her mouth that it felt like she had swallowed my throbbing crown. Never had losing felt so good.

Gradually, I regained my senses and my composure, and I found that she still had my cock in her mouth. She was working it gently with her tongue and mouthing it lightly as it shrank. She hadn't moved, and the unbelievable vista of her open pussy still lay right before my face.

Now it was her turn. I found that I still had my hands on her thighs, so I pulled her back to my mouth and began tonguing her clit. I could, finally, give my full attention to what I was doing. I worked around her little nubbin, as I knew she liked, and stroked it every now and then. I made excursions up between her inner lips, touching her entrance sometimes, and even extending the tip of my tongue into it once in a while. She nearly collapsed onto me.

She still had my cock in her mouth, but she was almost in a trance: Her jaw had gone slack, and she seemed almost unaware that she had something in her mouth. Her hips rocked a bit, helping me find the right rhythm. She moaned. And her body went rigid as her climax took her.

I continued to stroke her clit with my tongue, which I stiffened for greatest effect. As she convulsed in her ecstasy, my cock slipped out of her mouth; she shouted and moaned incomprehensibly. She rammed her pussy back against my mouth, and I continued, as well as I could under that pressure, to tweak her clit with my tongue.

Finally, her shouting quieted and her spasms subsided. Her muscles relaxed, and she collapsed on me. My tongue gently continued its work. Even that was too much for her; her hand snaked down between our bodies to cup her pussy and protect it from further invasion. But the sweet meat of her inner thighs was unprotected, so I nibbled and kissed it as she recovered.

Once she could move purposefully, she raised herself off of me, reversed her body, and lay down facing me. We exchanged a kiss, and I noticed that salty, musky taste again…

I put my arm around her and pulled her close as she snuggled her face against my neck and shoulder. "Mmmmmm," we said together. No words were needed; once again, for each of us, the other's close presence sufficed.

But, much as we enjoyed lying there naked and holding each other close, the chill downhill evening breeze was beginning. It wasn't long before we had to take notice. Once again we had to choose between getting on some layers, or getting into the sleeping bag more than an hour before sundown.

Early though it was, dressing seemed too much work. Fortunately, almost all of the camp chores were done. We got into the tent, got things ready for the night, and zipped the door closed. Having put our boxers back on to prove we were not completely uncultured—we crawled into the bag, pulling it closed and zipping it about halfway.

Once we were in the bag together, she snuggled up against my side, and I held her close once more. This snuggling thing, the thought struck me, could be habit-forming.

After a little while, she raised her head, looked at me, and broke the silence.

"Charlie, do you really like my boobs? Or did you just say that to please me?"

I was surprised. I looked back at her. "They're wonderful."

"Really? They're so small…"

I shushed her with a finger across her lips. "Really. You're a small person. I think they're in perfect proportion to the rest of you."

Seeing in her eyes that she didn't quite believe me, I said the formal words—the words from our childhood that guaranteed truth and compelled belief: "I invoke The Code. They really are."

"You get to touch them, so you're probably prejudiced," she said. Her appearance as she said it was indescribable; I can only say that she glowed.

And those perfect little boobs were pressed against me.

"Big Brother and Little Sister," I whispered

"Best friends," she murmured, still glowing.

I squeezed her close and she snuggled in more tightly, placing her head on my shoulder once again, as we said, together: "Now and always."

I was glowing, too.

And so we lay there, neither of us quite ready for sleep, but neither of us needing to say or do anything. I lost myself in the feel of her heartbeat and her breathing.

After a while, her breathing slowed. My wonderful little sister had fallen asleep, her head still nestled on my shoulder, my arm still holding her close, her firm, perfect, naked little boobs up against my bare side. Not long after, I slept, too.

(To be continued)

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—CarlusMagnus