Charlie and Mindy Bk. 04 Ch. 05

I rolled over and reached into the drawer of the nightstand that stood on my side of the bed. I pulled out a half-full tube of KY jelly and said, "Lack of lube is something we really can rectify—so that we can do some rectum-fying."

I rolled over onto my back, the tube in hand, and she gave me an elbow in the ribs for that. It was better aimed than usual, but still not very high on the pain scale. "Oof," I said, meaning it a bit more this time than usual.

She rolled over to face me, grinning nastily, and she reached for the tube. After she took the tube from my hand, her head disappeared under the blankets.

An instant later, I felt the wet heat of her mouth engulfing the full length of my cock. I groaned as my body went limp on the mattress, unable to make any voluntary motions. Involuntary motions were another story: My hips began rocking, driving me in and out of her mouth. She responded, and her head moved up and down in opposition to the motion of my hips.

That couldn't last long, and we both knew it: Even if she'd been able to breathe well while she ate me, the oxygen under the covers wouldn't last for long. And, if it lasted too long, I wouldn't. So, after a moment or two, I felt her take me out of her mouth and kiss my crown. As I regained control of my body, her head popped out of the covers again—if anything, her grin was nastier.

She got up onto her knees, threw the covers off of us, and opened the tube—which was still in her hand. She put a dollop of lube on her finger, reached down between her legs, and swirled it around her orifice. Then she extended all four fingers, and put another dollop on them. She looked me in the eyes and her grin got even dirtier. She kissed me briefly, and then she spread the lube all over my rock hard cock. Pulling a Kleenex from the box on her nightstand, she wiped her hand and then lay down on her side again, still to my left, with her back to me. I rolled over toward her.

My cock—now harder than it'd been yet that morning—slipped along her lubricated cleft. I slid my arm under her and took her little body into my arms—crossing my forearms in front of her so that they reached diagonally across her front and my hands cupped the little boobs I loved so much. I massaged them gently.

She rocked her hips a few times, sliding my slippery cock along herself even more. I responded by rocking my own hips. She moaned a happy little moan; so did I. I continued to knead her tits—still gently, but more firmly than before. I planted another big wet kiss on the back of her neck.

And then she raised her leg, reached between her thighs, grasped my slippery cock—not without some difficulty—and guided me to her rear entrance. She pushed herself back against me while she held my stiffness against herself. I pushed, too.

Her tight muscular ring resisted penetration—but not for long. Suddenly, it yielded, and the head of my cock surged into the grasp of that snug little band. She groaned a bit, as if in pain.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Almost," she said. "We don't have the angle right, so it hurts a little. Slide down the bed a little."

I did as instructed, leaving the head of my cock in her.

"Now it's starting to feel good," she whispered. And she showed me by pushing against me some more to get me deeper in her. She brought her thigh back down against the other, strengthening the already tight grasp her body had on my cock.

We lay there, joined, for a minute or two. She moaned her pleasure softly, and I responded in kind. I felt her groin move slightly, rhythmically; she was stroking the folds of her pussy. It wasn't long before my hips started rocking gently—driving my cock in and out of her. Her own hips returned the motion, and soon I was lost in overriding sensation.

The clasping circle of her sphincter, sliding, sliding, sliding up and down my rigid cock was more than I could bear for long. Soon, very soon, I exploded in her depths, my cum boiled into her, again and again and again, and I knew nothing else.

When my awareness of my surroundings returned, her little body, still in my arms, was rigid with her own orgasm. Rhythmic constrictions of her sphincter milked my cock, doubling and tripling the pleasure her body was still giving me. I held her tightly against me, and she groaned—almost sobbed—in my arms.

Gradually, her breathing became more regular as she returned to me. Her contractions around me became gentler. My hands still held her boobs; I continued to knead them gently, and soon, her sphincter's motions synchronized with the movements of my hands. Her right hand, still wet with her juices, stroked my right arm where it crossed over my left arm in front of her. Otherwise, she seemed almost in a trance.

We lay there a while, recovering. When she, too, had regained control of herself, she whispered, "I know that people think doing it this way is nasty, but I sure do like it."

"I like it, too," I whispered back. "I like your pussy even better, but it's nice to do it this way sometimes."

"Hunh!" she snorted, and I felt her contract strongly around me. "You just like having your thing in something warm, tight, and slippery."

"Hunh, yourself!" I replied. "You just like having a thing in any of your warm, tight, slippery places."

She wiggled back more tightly against me and I tightened my arms around her. "Mmm-hmm," she moaned her affirmation. "There might be something to that. Especially your thing." She turned her head toward me, and her lips searched for mine. My cock was still stiff, still embedded in her, so it was a stretch, but our lips found each other for another soft, gentle kiss.

There was little we had to do that day, so we lay there for a while, connected, sharing our bodies with each other. Faintly, in the background, I heard the noise of someone—who I guessed was Buck—moving around downstairs. Slowly, in spite of its surroundings, my cock shrank—but the grip of her sphincter held me inside her. "We're going to have to get up sometime," I said, eventually. "Not that I really want to. But I'm getting hungry."

"I'm hungry, too," she said. "But I really like to lie here so close to you. Your arms feel so good around me. I like to feel your hands working on my boobs. And I like having your cock in me. Anywhere!"

"I like the way you're squeezing my cock. But all good things must come to an end," I said.

"Mmm-hmm," she moaned again. But this time there was a naughty undertone. She waited a few seconds—probably so that I could build up some anticipatory dread. And then she went on, "Your good thing sure did come to my end!"

I almost choked. But I wasn't about to let her get away with that one. "Next time we make love," I said, "you should have some Coke while we do it."

"Hunh?" she said. The suggestion had taken her completely by surprise.

"As everyone knows," I said, "Things go better with Coke!"

She tried to elbow me in the ribs as she pulled away to get out of bed. But my arms were in the way.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was closer to ten than to nine by the time Mindy and I had shared a shower, changed the bed, gotten some breakfast, and gone downstairs to see what the twins were up to. If it was something private, we knew, a door would be closed—so we weren't worried about what they might be doing. They had the same understanding about our activities upstairs.

Buck was washing their breakfast dishes, and Steph was drying.

"Good morning," Buck said when he saw us. He was smiling slyly. Steph, too, was grinning.

Mindy and I returned his greeting.

"Happy birthday, Mindy," Steph said, and Buck echoed it.

After Mindy had thanked them both, Buck looked directly at us and said with a grin, "That must have been some shower."

"Ulp!" Mindy said, embarrassed. "Were we that loud?"

I just smiled back at them.

"Well," said Buck, still grinning, "We could hear the water running in the pipes, so we knew somebody was taking a shower. I won't mention any names, but somebody upstairs made a lot of racket during that shower. Probably two somebodies from the sound of things. Lots of whooping and laughing, if you know what I mean."

Mindy looked mortified.

"Steven Rogers Young! Stop teasing them!" Steph said severely—coming to Mindy's rescue. She swung the dishtowel in her hand at him; it connected, but failed to do any noticeable damage. "You know damn well that they're going to hear things like that from our shower. Among other places." Now she was grinning broadly.

"It's nice," Buck said, "to be at home with you two. Isn't it, Steph?"

Mollified, Steph laid her dishtowel down and stepped up against Buck. She put her arm around him and looked over at where Mindy and I were standing together. "It really is," she said. And she reached up and kissed Buck on the lips. That kiss extended into deep time, and her hands stroked the sides of his body.

Before they had a chance to break off what they were doing, I pulled Mindy against me, front to front. She came happily into my arms. She placed her arms on top of mine and looked up at me expectantly—knowing what was about to happen. I didn't disappoint her; I bent over and kissed her at least as thoroughly as Buck was kissing Steph.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When their dishes were done, we sat down at the table with them and told them about our plans for the first part of the summer. We were going to leave for Fort Collins on Monday, we told them. There were a number of loose ends we needed to tie up, including an uninhabited house that needed care and a car we weren't sure what to do with.

We hoped to be back with the two of them by mid-June. Then we'd get Mindy ready for her MOLS course, and we'd need to get her to Lander, Wyoming, for the start of her course early in the morning on the thirtieth of June. I planned, I told them all, to drive her there. Then I'd be at loose ends for nearly all of July. Mostly, I reckoned I'd pine for my sister. But I'd figure out something to keep myself busy, at least part of the time.

"Share some of that time with us," Steph said. "Please don't try to spend that whole month by yourself."

She didn't say it, but I knew that she didn't want me to be alone for so long so soon after our parents' deaths.

I smiled at her. "Except for Mindy, there's nobody I'd rather be with than you two," I assured her. (As long as I said it to her, and not to Buck, it probably wasn't a violation of the Fundamental Code.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After we left the twins' apartment, Mindy and I spent the bulk of the day just hanging out and enjoying the lack of pressure of undone schoolwork. We made a trip to a hardware store to pick up a few odds and ends (I can't even remember what they were), and we strolled about the now-empty campus. We couldn't help but notice, after we got home, that the house was full of tantalizing food smells. As we got clean clothes on to go downstairs for dinner, Mindy couldn't keep the smile off of her face. It was contagious, and I found myself smiling back at her.

In the middle of changing, she stepped up close to me, looked up at me, and put her arms around my neck, grinning. She was wearing only a yellow pair of the little bikini panties she favored, and I had on only a pair of boxers. Her little boobs rested against the upper part of my belly—and caused turmoil in my boxers.

I put my arms around her, and she flowed against me. She was still looking up at me, expectantly, now. I bent down and kissed her, deeply. Time stopped, and I knew only the feeling of the kiss, enhanced by her nearly naked little body against my skin.

When we came up for air, I looked into her deep blue eyes again. "Bet you can't guess what I'm thinking," I said.

Her smile deepened. "You'd lose that bet, buster," she said. "That thing you're doing your thinking with is poking me in the gut." And, grinning evilly, she wiggled against my boner.

"Maybe," I offered, "it should poke you a little lower."

I kissed her again, and, again, she melted in my arms. When we ended that kiss, she tried, half-heartedly, to push me away. She gave me a longing look and said, "I love you, and I'd like that, too. But they're waiting for us, and Steph's been working for days to get this meal ready. We can't be late."

I held on for another moment, looking her in the eyes again. "I love you back," I said. "Lucky for me, you'll be here tonight!"

She smiled up at me. "Lucky for me, too!" And then she did push me away.

We quickly got dressed. I put on a maroon dress shirt and a clean pair of Levis. Mindy put a little light green dress on. It came only to the middle of her thighs. She caught me admiring her legs and smiled prettily at me. I licked my lips and smiled back. She knew exactly what I was thinking; she grinned.

At six on the dot, we tromped down the stairs and into the twins' apartment. We could see through one of the doors from the foyer that neither of them was in their living room, so we went to the other door. As we stepped through that door into their hallway, I rapped on the open door and yelled "Hello! We're here!"

Buck came from the kitchen. "The guest of honor and her escort are here," he yelled back to Steph.

A moment later, Steph stepped out of their kitchen, and the two stepped forward to greet us. Buck and I exchanged a handshake while Steph and Mindy hugged each other. Then Mindy and Buck traded a substantial hug and kiss, while Steph and I did the same.

Steph led us into their living room, while Buck disappeared back into the kitchen. But we'd hardly been seated when Buck reappeared with a tray upon which were four mismatched champagne flutes and a cold bottle of prosecco. He proceeded to work the cork out of the bottle (with a resounding "pop") and fill each of the glasses. He handed the filled glasses around.

Then, picking up the fourth glass, he turned to us and raised it. Looking straight at Mindy, he said, "To a happy birthday for my second favorite woman!"

We all clinked our glasses. Steph and I both looked at Mindy and echoed, "Happy Birthday!" And, as we all took a sip, my little sister was as radiant as I've ever seen her. Nobody outside our family had ever made such a fuss over her before, and she was enjoying herself immensely.

Mindy and I sat together on the couch. Buck sat down in a chair, and Steph disappeared into the kitchen. We'd only had time for another sip of prosecco when Steph was back with an antipasto platter of cheeses, crackers, and meats.

When the prosecco was gone and the antipasto plate had sustained heavy damage, we moved into the kitchen—where the meal began in earnest. There was small dish of spaghetti with marinara sauce, followed by chicken cacciatore served with steamed zucchini. There was a substantial salad. And wine, of course. Soave (white, for the women) and valpolicella (red, for the men) flowed freely.

Just when Mindy and I thought we were suitably stuffed, Steph brought out a "first dessert" of cheese and fruit. More prosecco flowed.

We moved to the living room and chatted for an hour or two. And then, once our meals had settled a little to make some room, Steph disappeared into the kitchen yet again. But before she left, she directed Mindy to sit in the green easy chair—which had a bare little coffee table in front of it. Shortly, Steph called: "Turn out the lights, Steve!"

As Buck moved to comply, I glanced at Mindy. She was so excited she couldn't sit still; she squirmed and wiggled. She looked like a kid at Disneyland trying to decide what she liked best.

And then, Steph's clear soprano voice came from the kitchen. She was singing the "Happy Birthday" song, and we could see—faintly at first, but more strongly as she approached—candlelight on the walls of the hall. Buck and I joined in the song, and Steph entered the room just as we began the "Happy birthday, dear Mindy" line of the song. She bore in front of her a large, dark brown cake with nineteen blazing candles on it. She set it on the coffee table in front of my little sister—whose eyes sparkled and glittered in the candlelight—just as we finished the song.

"Oh, guys," Mindy said, rather breathlessly. "You shouldn't have done all this."

"Don't be silly," Steph said. "Of course we shouldn't have. But we wanted to, and we did. Happy birthday.

"Now make a wish and blow out the candles."

Mindy looked directly at me, and I could see that, even in her euphoric state, her wish involved me. (I had some pretty good guesses as to what that wish might be.) And then she looked again at the cake, bent forward, and blew ferociously. All nineteen of the candles went out and the other three of us cheered in the resulting darkness.

A moment later, Buck found the switch on the light by his chair, and Mindy and I got our first good look at the cake. It was a three-layer cake covered with dark, chocolate frosting that, from the swirls Steph had gotten into it, looked very thick.

"Oh, Steph! It's beautiful!" Mindy breathed.

"I'm glad you like it," Steph replied. "Just a minute." She stepped back into the kitchen and returned with a cake knife and four small plates and forks. "Okay, Birthday Girl," she continued. "You can do the honors."

Mindy pulled the candles out of the cake and cut two large pieces and two merely big pieces—using well over a third of the cake in the process. She gave one of the big pieces to Steph and one to herself. The larger pieces went to Buck and to me. Steph handed each of us a fork, and we dug in.

Somebody—I plead the Fifth Amendment—had clued Steph in to Mindy's weakness for chocolate. It was, as Mindy had predicted by the smell in the house the day before, a chocolate cake. But what a chocolate cake. It was very dark—almost black, very chocolate, and very fine-grained; it was also very soft, and very moist. Steph hadn't cemented the layers together with frosting, but with thick layers of stiff whipped cream. The half-inch-thick, dark brown frosting on the outside of the cake was even sweeter and more chocolate than the cake—and it was creamy with butter. Mindy took her first bite and we could see that she thought she'd died and gone to heaven.

"Oh, Steph!" she exclaimed again. "This is amazing! I've never had anything this good before. This is better than sex!"

Buck spoke up before I could disagree with her. "Careful there," he said. "That borders on blasphemy!"

Steph, who'd sat on the arm of the chair Buck was sitting in, gave him an elbow. He just grinned at her. But Mindy was so lost in her piece of cake that she didn't even notice.

When we'd finished our cake—it was so rich that even Buck and I turned down a second piece—we went back into the living room, where we gave Mindy her birthday presents. I'd even managed to wrap mine presentably, though I have to confess that I got some help from Steph. The twins gave her a little monocular—perfect for carrying in the backcountry when you're traveling light but want to be able to look at distant objects. And I gave her the little camera.

My lovely little sister was overwhelmed. She sat to my right on the couch and cried tears of joy. I put my arm around her and held her against me while she settled down. When she was able to speak again, she looked at us and said, softly, "Thank you all. You guys make me feel so special."

Steph looked her in the not-quite-dry eyes, smiled at her, and said, "You should feel special, Mindy. You are special."

That started up the waterworks again, and I held my little sister some more until she subsided again.

We hung out with the twins for a while after that. Buck "just happened" to find another bottle of prosecco in the refrigerator, and that topped off the cake nicely.