Cold Sister

And her pussy. I'd seen it before, far closer than this. But framed by her totality, it seemed ever more incredible. Full, pouting lips. That tuft of dark hair. Warm, wanting, welcoming.

I could have stared at her for hours like that. It may have been hours for all the time that I spent sitting there, agape. I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come. I had to hope that the look on my face, the clear appearance of supplicant worship, would be enough for my sister would understand.

Something must have been communicated, because Betsy reached her hand down to me -- like God reaching to Adam in the Sistine Chapel.

"Come here," she said, and pulled me up to the bed. I lay back on the comforter, the softness of the mattress feeling like a cloud after the hard, scratchy floor. Betsy climbed over me. Her large breasts hung over my chest. Her body loomed.

"Betsy, you're so..." Again I tried to say something, to describe my utter awe at her. There wasn't a word for it, and I stumbled.

My sister touched her finger to my nose. Kissed me lightly on the lips. Her warmth settled into me. Her strength surrounded me. Her soft body drew me in.

"Cold," she said. Just one word.

I held my sister tight to me. Rubbed my hands up her bare back, her bottom. We rolled to the side, like a single being, and pulled the covers over us. I swear my sister's eyes were so bright, they lit the darkness.

My sister kissed me, hard. Wrapped her arms around my back. I felt something warm and wet on the base of my cock. Kind of scratchy. I realized that Betsy's bare pussy was now right on top of my hardness. Rubbing slightly.

I reached between us and gripped her breasts. They overflowed my palms. Her nipples nipping at my skin. I held them aloft in wonder, slowly manipulating my fingers on her flesh. I doubt it felt very good for her, but I didn't care. The feel of her tits in my hand was too much for me to let go of.

Betsy continued moving her body against mine. She wriggled her butt back and forth, slotting my cock in her folds. There was no pretending here. No acting like it was an accident. Betsy was going to get off on my dick and any other pretense was passed right by.

But it was my own greediness that got us further.

Holding Betsy's boobs wasn't enough, you see. When you have glorious tits like those within reach, you have to try for more than just touch. I lifted my sister by the shoulders and slid her up. Moved my own body slightly down. Got her magnificent mounds right at mouth level.

I tongued her tits, then suckled. Betsy groaned in appreciation. Maybe I wasn't the master of her body in that moment, but I'd finally found something she liked. I licked at her nipples while she writhed.

That isn't what did it. My dick was safely down between Betsy's thighs while I sucked on her breasts. But when she slid back. That's when we did ourselves in.

Betsy moved down, her hungry nether mouth searching for that spot again, the hardness she'd been rubbing on. Only this time, my dick had flopped into a different position. So, when my baby sister slid down, my cock wasn't under her at all.

In case it's not evident, I was so hard I could have hammered nails and constantly leaking lubricating fluid. My sister's pussy was slippery, dripping wet. Already open and primed.

My cockhead dipped into her wanting sex. Breached her opening as easy as sliding a greased-up grape into a rain-slicked tube. Almost too effortless. I felt the heat of Betsy's pussy slowly start to engulf my cock.

"Bets," I said. A gasp. "It's going in."

"Yeah," my sister said. She lowered herself further. The head all swallowed. Shaft halfway down. Betsy breathing like she was on the last mile of the marathon. Like every gulp of oxygen burned her throat. As if her lungs were about to burst.

Betsy stopped and for a moment I thought the madness had cleared. She lifted up slightly and I felt myself overwhelmed by the deluge of relief and disappointment. My sister caught my eye. Fuck she was gorgeous. I realized I'd rested my hands on her hips and, damn me, I squeezed to keep her in place. My cock having found this wonderful place now unwilling to let it simply slip away.

Betsy held herself up on her hands. Her tits hung down over my chest, sheened with sweat. Her neck muscles ropy tight. Inexorably, she let me lower her back down on my dick. Till I was buried completely in my sister's wanting cunt.

As soon as we made contact, as we hilted to the farthest point, my beautiful Betsy began to shiver.

"Hurt?" I asked. I knew it was my sister's first time. I assumed as much, anyway. The smooth slide into her pussy made me wonder if she'd opened that box before, but everything I knew told me I'd taken my sister's virginity.

Betsy shook her head vigorously. She was feeling no pain. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"Cold?" I asked. She nodded through the tremors.

I couldn't imagine how. Betsy was wrapped around my body, under heavy covers in a warm house in the middle of a state famous for heat. But still my sister shook something awful. Lips purpling and skin pricking up.

I squeezed Betsy tight, pressing her against me like I was trying to truly merge us into one. She rested her head in the crook of my neck. For a moment, I remembered back to how we would be in a similar spot every time we cuddled. As if this was our position. The way we fit together as one.

But as I held her close, my sister shook me off. She sat up, abruptly. Body trembling. Shiny with sweat and amber from the windowlight. Breasts so perfectly voluptuous. The lips of her vagina spready lewdly over my staff.

Betsy reached back and undid her braid. Brown hair spilled forth. Longer than I'd realized, the ends now practically covering her breasts. She drew the locks back behind her, almost apologetic for obscuring what she had to realize was my favorite sight in the entire universe.

My sister leaned forward, resting her palms on either side of me. She gave me a cocky grin, and I immediately recognized that look. It was the face she made right before the start of a race. The expression she flashed as she passed yet another competitor by.

Betsy raised her curvy butt, luxuriating in the feel of my cock in her pussy, then lowered herself back down. Feeling every ridge and bump in exquisite detail. She stared into my eyes, searching. The confidence overwhelming, only marred by the occasional quirk as she trained her body to tame this new, incomparable invader.

She shook. Shivered. The little hairs on her arms stood up straight. Gritted teeth and wild eyes.

Betsy began moving faster. No longer sliding but bouncing. Pumping up and down on my dick. Hands on my shoulders. Nails digging in. I didn't feel them till the morning when I noticed the little cuts burning.

I did what I could -- grabbed my sister's hips and held on. Thrusted upwards in time to her own movements. Both of us lost in each other. Connected physically, yes. But emotionally even more.

We weren't playing around anymore. We weren't helping each other out or doing ourselves a favor or however we'd rationalized it. I was fucking my sister. Betsy was screwing her brother. Both of us lost in a lusty, incestuous swamp from which we'd never climb out.

Explaining what sex with my sister was like seems futile. It's a unique experience, unlike anything else. Yes, it has all the appeal and wonder of intercourse. But then added into the mix is all this other emotional stuff, biological connection, that is supposed to blunt the experience. But instead it only twists those things and intensifies them more.

The wrongness doesn't go away, it makes things even better. The crawling nature of knowing you're fucking familiar flesh and blood doesn't dissipate, it only increases every other sensation. You never forget you're having sex with your sister. And what's supposed to be the worst part unfortunately only makes it the best.

Like I said, I wasn't supposed to know what my sister's pussy smelled like. Felt like. Wasn't allowed to know what she looked like when she came. But I saw it. I watched it. Memorized every detail.

Betsy hung halfway down on my dick. Her mouth slowly gaping wider and wider. Her eyes, her hips, her pussy all yawning open in the exact same way. The slow build unending till I thought she would never stop.

Suddenly her body snapped closed. All at once. Lightning quick. Betsy's legs cinched. Her body stilled. Eyes rolled back. Her pussy tightened so much, I swear she was trying to rip my cock off.

A creaking, aching groan flooded out of my sister. Again, I thought of a towel being wrung out. The last juices of pulp forced from an orange. Betsy's whole body clamped down and eked every drop of ecstasy out of her. It didn't look like pleasure, but I knew that it was.

"AAAHHhhhhuuuhhhhnnnHHHaaa," the sound so low and quiet, yet so inescapable my sister might as well have screamed it.

Her face shifted as she bore down. Lips turn to a half frown. Eyes big and wet. Almost supplicant, like she was scared and confused by her need for me. Begging for something more.

Then Betsy fell forward, gasping. Her arms went limp. Whole body like a wet rag. She gasped for air, ragged and pained. Finally, she looked at me and smiled. Kissed me so hard we nearly knocked heads.

"Yeah?" I asked her.

"Oh yeah," Betsy replied.

Again, I worried we might be done. That the cold reality of my sister's cum would wash over her and she'd realize what we were doing, and she'd stop. Because that made sense, right? That's how a rational person would choose to react.

We were doing something truly, epically wrong. Like gulping poison, knowingly, because we were both so desperately thirsty. And yet, once that flood of need was staunched in my sister, it should have led her to call an end to all this.

A good brother might have let her.

Instead, I grabbed my sister around the waist and violently rolled her over. My dick slipped out with the movement, but I grabbed my cock and shoved it right back in.

Betsy groaned as I filled her once again.

"Fuck you feel so good," I said. Like that made a lick of sense. Seeing my sister's body had broken my brain, so you can only imagine what feeling it did to me. Not that Betsy was any more coherent.

"Oh fuck yes," she said, "Like that."

As much as I liked my sister humping me, I have to say it was even better now that I was able to plow her. The snap of my hips against her backside. Running my hands all over her bare skin. Seeing her writhe beneath me. Knowing that I was doing this to her. Taking her there. It brought me to another level.

Unfortunately, it also brought me to another level. I'd have fucked Betsy like that forever if my body had let me. But there was an endpoint to my endurance and, as I told my sister, it was encroaching fast.

"Getting... close..." I warned her.

"Ohhh, uhhn. Me too."

"OK," I said. Again, I know, the rhetoric was riveting.

To this point, I'd moved in ways that seemed to make Betsy respond. Now though, I abandoned myself to my own pleasure. Did what my body and millions of years of biology told me was right. The tingle started at the base of my dick and spilled forward.

"Getting thicker," Betsy said, "Feel it. Is he going to shoot for me?"

"Uh huh."

"Good," Betsy said, "I like it when it shoots."

As I plunged forward, I did my best to hold back. To ready myself to release from Betsy's body before I let go. My sister sensed my hesitation. She snapped her legs around my waist.

"No," she gasped. "Inside."

For a second, everything held on the precipice. Then the spark raced across my body. The pleasure exploded out of me. And a river of my sperm raced out of my cock and burst straight into my sister's pussy.

"Oh fuck!" Betsy cried out. She gripped my arms tighter, and I realized that my sister was cumming, too. Her body's pleasure responding to my own, like each feeding the other. A counterpointing crescendo of ecstasy in our sibling-induced symphony.

I'm pretty sure I roared as my fertile fluid finally filled my sister. The bliss coming in long, sharp bursts that matched my ejaculations. Each slightly lesser than the last.

"Oh Betsy," I said. Practically a sob. "Oh God."

"That's it. There's a good boy," Betsy said, stroking my back. "Let it all go."

I don't remember the rest of it. We separated ourselves, I'm certain. I have a vague recollection of a kiss. A tight squeeze. I'd poured my essence into my sister. It wasn't just the energy of the sex, the buildup of the evening. It was days of anticipation. Weeks. A lifetime of waiting for this moment. And when it hit, I could barely do anything except let sleep overtake me.

*

I woke up freezing cold.

I was naked in bed, covered in the comforter. No different than my usual morning. Yet I was shivering. Shaking. I got up and got dressed, quick as I could. But it wasn't enough. I dug through my drawers and found a pair of jeans and a long sleeve sweater from a long-forgotten high school trip to New York City. Still, I wrapped my arms around myself.

For a moment, I thought I might have a fever, but I checked my temperature, and it was fine. I went downstairs, the thermostat was the same 68 degrees, as always. Yet why was I so cold?

But that was only the first surprise of my morning. The second was waiting for me outside the house. I was in the kitchen eating breakfast when I saw it, saw her, out the window. I couldn't believe my eyes.

I raced to the backyard. It was a sunny Saturday morning. While I didn't feel it, I could tell that it was warm. There, lying back in the blue waters of our backyard swimming pool, wearing a bright green bikini(?!), was my sister.

Betsy was laying back on an inflatable pool chair. Her head lolled back. Skin glistening with sweat. She looked amazing, of course. But that wasn't what had me frazzled.

When Betsy saw me, she gave me a broad grin. She tipped herself out of the floater and swam up to the side of the pool. Her perfect body sluicing through the water like a mermaid.

"Come join me!" she said folding her arms on the edge, "The water's amazing!"

We'd been living in Florida our whole lives. I think I'd seen my sister in a bathing suit maybe three times, and always a one piece that covered as much skin as possible. And she'd never gone even near the pool. Yet there she was, kicking her shapely legs through the water like it was nothing.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked, shivering for emphasis.

Betsy giggled. "Are you kidding? This is the warmest I've felt in years!"

My sister spent the whole morning enjoying the pool -- swimming and lounging in the water like it was her natural environment. I sat by the side near our little glass coffee table and stared at her. Was Betsy possessed? Replaced by an alien doppelganger? I couldn't explain it, so I watched, waiting for the first sign of danger.

Apparently, our parents had woken up early and gone off to do parent things. Though I didn't remember it, at some point Betsy must have slipped out of my bedroom during the night because we hadn't gotten caught. It was just the two of us on a Saturday morning. Me and the strange, summery being who had replaced my sister.

Finally, around lunch time, I was able to coax Betsy out of the water with an offer of food. She ate ravenously, tearing through two sandwiches with pruney fingers. Dripping a puddle of water under her chair. I was too dumbfounded to do anything but watch.

Even without all the extra stuff -- the cold, the bikini, all of it -- I was struggling to process the night before. We hadn't crossed the line, we'd leapt over it, then run back and ripped the poor thing to shreds. With a girlfriend, a girl I was supposed to be having sex with, we'd have some kind of postmortem following our first time. I'd just had sex with my sister. I'd have thought it would require several days of discussions. Preferably with a therapist present.

Instead, Betsy sat there like all of this was normal. And my already addled brain was barely able to hold it all together.

"We should talk about last night," I said, finally. Fuck I was cold. I wondered if I could put my raincoat on over my sweater and not look like a total weirdo.

"I know, wasn't it awesome?" Betsy said. She licked the remains of her lunch off her fingers, one-by-one.

"I mean, it was, but..."

"I feel so warm," Betsy said, hugging herself happily, "I can't wait to do it again tonight."

"Oh. OK." Being honest, I wasn't sure how to react to that. I mean, I very much wanted to keep doing what we were doing. It was too incredible to not continue. But I knew that we should want to stop and being pulled between the two had me stretched thin. I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen after I had sex with my sibling, but I was certain we weren't meant to casually discuss it over lunch and agree to continue.

"I mean, I'd much rather do it sooner, too," Betsy said, "But I want to give Brandon Junior some time to recover. And besides, I'm still comfortable. I want to save up and get the full benefit. You know?"

"Sure thing."

"You're not upset, are you?" Betsy asked. "You've been acting off all morning."

"No, I'm OK," I said, holding back a shiver.

"Good, cause we're doing that a lot more," Betsy said.

"I guess it's a good thing you're on protection," I said, "Or we'd be in loads of trouble."

Betsy's face went serious. "Oh, I'm not on the pill," she said.

My heart dropped onto the ground and splattered on the pavement.

*

A normal, intelligent individual would have called an end to things at this point. But, by now you've surely realized that I am not that person. Instead, I spent the whole afternoon arguing with myself. It's not like I didn't know the right answer. It's just that my stupid, horny brain wouldn't accept it.

I must have been muttering to myself louder than I thought, because my mom interrupted me. "Hey are you, OK?" she asked.

We were both in the kitchen. She was in the middle of cooking dinner, and I was... Actually, I'm not sure what I was doing. Considering the consequences. Reasoning my reactions. Freaking the fuck out.

"I'm fine," I said, reflexive.

"Are you sure?" Mom asked. She gestured for me to sit on one of the kitchen stools, just like Dad had a week before. But also not like Dad had at all. Mom was smiling warmly. She had my sister's face, but a different body. Broad-shouldered and soft. She looked like she was actually concerned about me.

"I'm trying to figure stuff out," I said, before I stopped myself.

"Girl trouble?" Mom asked.

I glanced up at her, surprised.

"At your age, it's always girl trouble," she said.

"I like her," I said, "This girl. I mean. You don't know her."

"Of course," Mom said.

"And like I said, I like being with her. A lot. But, um, it's complicated."

"But you like her," Mom said, "You enjoy spending time with her."

"Oh yeah," I said, "It's amazing. I just worry. About the consequences."

Mom stared at me for a moment, like processing. She walked out from behind the counter and opened the cabinet.

"Look, you're young," Mom said, "And not every relationship you have is going to be your 'forever' partner or whatever. You're still at an age where you can have fun. Someday you'll be married and have kids and I promise you, you're not going to be spending all your time wishing you'd been more cautious growing up. Sometimes it's good to make mistakes. It's way more memorable than following the rules all the time."

"I mean, I guess," I said.

Mom reached deeper into the cabinet, pushing everything out of the way. A grin filled her face. She pulled out a box of chocolate cookies. The box was stamped with the words 'Imported from Belgium.' She winked at me as she reached into the container.