Meghan's Little Sister Pt. 01

Meghan's sister, Bridget, had always been the more sexual of the two. Meghan's boyfriend, Nick, had initially started coming around to the house more because Bridget would always come home from school in those wonderfully small volleyball shorts: blue mesh with yellow fringes, riding up just enough to expose the slightest hint of her cheeks, supple and perfectly tanned in the May afternoon sun. Nick was into Meghan, sure; they'd been dating for several months... but Bridget was who he thought about when he was inside his girlfriend.

It was one particularly sweaty and heavy summer evening when Nick came over to Meghan's house to hang out, but she and her mother were about to go shopping.

"When will you be back?" Nick asked, throwing himself down onto the couch in the living room and turning on the TV. Meghan's mother, Janine, shrugged. "Probably not too long. Maybe two hours? We have to get food for dinner tonight and then go to the mall for a bit."

Meghan came into the room, smiling at Nick. "Hey baby," she came over to the edge of the couch, her strawberry blonde hair hanging over his face as she kissed him. Janine smiled. Nick's crotch immediately got hard, but not because of the kiss.

"Did you want anything from the mall?" Meghan asked, slipping on her shoes by the side-door and putting her purse over her shoulder. "Didn't you need new jeans or whatever?"

Nick turned back to the TV. "I mean, I won't stop you from buying me clothes, but I'm alright either way," was his reply, nonchalantly. Secretly he obviously hoped she bought him more than one pair, but fuck if he was going to pronounce that desire.

Mother and daughter walked to the door and opened it, walking out. "See you later!" Meghan said, smiling and waving. Both she and Nick were 20 years old, still in college, albeit separate universities with 500 miles between them. Neither had ever cheated on the other, but Nick certainly harbored his innate desires. He had a hefty stash of porn on his laptop at school, and would often indulge in all-night masturbatory sessions when his roommate would be out of town. Fairly recently he began experimenting with taboo and kinky subject-matter, sometimes frequenting online video chat sites to watch girls from across the world do whatever he told them to do. Occasionally he would get angry when they'd advertise that they "do anything and everything" but then denied his requests to see some of the more salacious acts performed by others in the porn industry. He would coax them and offer more money, but more often than not those indulgences left him feeling annoyed and out-of-sorts; he would often log off and go to sleep.

During the summer months, however, he would spend so much time with Meghan he didn't have much privacy, and his needs were more than met - her lusts were almost as insatiable as his own, albeit perhaps more timid in their initial awakening. She would often wake him in the morning with a delicious blowjob, or something just laying close to him in bed and breathing softly into his ear or near his mouth, her thin fingers dancing down his arm and chest, delicately pirouetting around his lower abdomen until he awoke, at which point she would fully indulge both their wishes and take him fully into her mouth. They would have rough sex against the wall in her off-campus apartment, on the dirty stone floor of the basement under the apartment while they waited for the laundry to finish. Nick would often pound her from behind, her pale ass high in the air and her face against the ground. Each breath she took brought dust into her mouth, and then blew it out again as he pounded into her over and over again; sometimes when she was particularly aroused she would run her tongue along the floor, moaning as she did it, licking the disgusting basement floor, much to Nick's deviant delight. Once he was near finishing, he would have her turn around on her knees and look up at him, her eyebrows knitted and her mouth open, pouting; she would - without even being asked - beg him for his seed. She never accepted anything from him without asking; she was almost subservient that way, but Nick loved it. Eleven months had gone by and their relationship remained steady.

But there was always that part of Nick that demanded more from him, that crept into his psyche and wanted what only Bridget could offer: that young, barely-eighteen body; those blue eyes paired with that soft brunette hair, usually in a messy bun atop her head; those gorgeous, smooth legs; perfectly manicured and painted fingernails and toes; and those lips, never smeared with lipstick, yet somehow they still glowed in the light. And she would always smile when he would come around.

"Hey you," Nick awoke quickly from a powernap on Meghan's couch and saw Bridget standing by the ottoman near his feet, holding the TV remote and two beers. "Wakey-wakey."

Nick sat up, chuckling to himself. He accepted a beer from his girlfriend's little sister. "You're too young for beer. Stick to wine."

"So are you, you and my sister aren't even 21 yet and I know for a fact you both drink." She retorted smartly, settling down onto the other end of the couch. She was wearing a white v-neck t-shirt almost too small for her, those blue-and-yellow booty shorts, and ankle-high socks. Her hair was in that classic teenage girl bun, thrown atop her head almost-sloppily, but he knew that she took great care in how she presented herself; he knew her type all too well.

She had her reading glasses on that afternoon, and even a pencil behind her ear. "That's debatable," Nick replied to her accusation. "What, do you follow us around?"

"Not 'follow', per se," she said coyly, "but I know you were both at Maggie Hasterman's grad party last weekend."

"Oh yeah?" Nick's eyes gazed through the mundane show on the TV, pretending not to care.

"Oh yes, and I know you did a gargoyle and my sister passed out in the driveway. Or at least that's what I heard through the grapevine."

Nick sipped his beer, smiling. He put his feet up on the coffee table; he hadn't worn socks with his shoes. In his head that was one less thing to take off if Meghan and he fucked later that evening.

"First of all, don't believe everything you hear, kiddo." Nick secretly thought girls like Bridget liked being called "kiddo" by older guys; out of the corner of his eye he saw her eyes sparkle and her lips form a small smile. "Secondly, even if either one of those events occurred, it was under adult supervision. Third...fuck off."

They both erupted in laughter, drinking their beers for a little while longer. Then the subject changed.

"Anyway, how did senior year go for you?" Nick queried. He didn't really care, honestly, but the more Bridget talked the more relaxed she would ultimately become. He didn't have an ulterior motive at this point, mind, but the situation was certainly unfolding in a manner that appealed to him greatly.

"It was good," Bridget replied, curling up her legs and toes under her perfect ass. "Well, at least not as boring as I thought. At least I got into college."

"Oh yeah, you did manage that, didn't you?" Nick said wryly. Bridget threw her pillow at him. "You got into Westinghouse, right? You know that's only like twenty miles or so from my apartment over at UVM."

Bridget perked up, but tried to hide it. "I didn't know that, actually. But I didn't pick it for that reason. They have a great science program. And I got a scholarship for volleyball."

"Ooh nice," Nick said sarcastically. "What're they, like, D3?"

"D2, asshole." Even she laughed, pushing his arm playfully, almost daringly. She got up. "Do you want another beer? Or some food?"

Nick shrugged. "I'll take another beer. If you're getting food, sure, yeah, I'll have whatever, no worries." She bounced away into the kitchen, two rooms away.

He heard the house phone ring. A minute later he heard her call out. "Meghan's on the phone, do you want to talk?"

Nick's mind almost went numb, and his darker inhibitions took complete control. He got up quickly and walked into the kitchen, where Bridget was standing by the fridge, legs spread apart in what Nick could only assume was some type of yoga stretching position. She had the house phone in her hand, curling the long cord around in her fingers.

Nick shook his head violently. "No," Nick whispered. "I don't feel like talking." Bridget flashed that coy smile, that sign that she knew exactly why Nick didn't want to talk to her. She told Meghan "he's in the bathroom", but continued listening. Only then did a massive clap of thunder peel out and shake the house.

"Holy shit!" Bridget screamed. "Did you guys hear that on your end?" Both she and Nick were breathless. The lights flickered a few times.

Another minute passed, and then sheets of rain began descending on the house, blasting against the windows in monumental torrents. Bridget nodded on the phone, "Okay, tell mom drive safe...see you guys later." She hung up.

"What happened? I thought they were just going to the store." Nick asked.

"They were." Bridget said, shutting the fridge door, then walking quickly to the front and side doors and checking the locks. "This storm hit them before it just hit us, and they issued tornado warnings for the whole county." She handed him another beer, and pointed to the oven. "I put a pizza in the oven for later. My mom said we should stay in the basement until the warning is over. They're closer to my dad's office in the city, they're going to stay there with him."

"Jesus," Nick breathed, popping the cap on his beer and taking a long swig. "How long?"

Bridget shrugged, then smiled evilly. "Why, you scared?" She cackled and lunged for Nick's stomach to tickle him. He let her do it, and enclosed his arms around her roughly like a bear, both of them laughing and swaying violently from side-to-side. She let go after a moment, fixing her shirt. Had she felt his hardening cock? Nick's eyes deftly drifted to her stomach, where what he saw immediately made his blood rise and his heart quicken: her stomach was perfectly tanned, sensationally toned, and she had a sexy piercing in her belly button that he hadn't known she had. She saw his eyes, and pulled her shirt down more. "Don't tell my mom."

"My lips are sealed." Nick replied. "Should we go down into the basement?" The sky had already darkened considerably, and was now nearly black as the rain continued to pelt the house.

"Uhm yeah probably. Don't wanna get sucked up!" Bridget turned off the lights in the kitchen. "But let me change real quick, it's cold downstairs."

She hustled up the stairs, and after a minute came back down wearing what would ultimately became Nick's innermost fantasy: she was still wearing the booty shorts, but had changed into knee-high socks, white, with a black stripe at the top; she had put on a hoodie that was a size too large for her, and had slipped on her black Ugg boots. She walked past him, and Nick followed her down the carpeted stairs into the basement, pulling the door shut quietly behind him.

An hour or so passed. They were watching a movie on IFC that was all blood and gore; but Nick liked that stuff, and Bridget seemed to enjoy it. Suddenly, however, she picked up the remote next to the five empty glasses bottles of beer between the two of them on the coffee table, and turned the volume down very low. She put the remote back down, deliberately, carefully, and slide over on the couch closer to Nick.

She looked directly at Nick. "You know you want me."

Nick cleared his throat, nearly coughed. "What?"

She stared at him. "Do you want something else?" She repeated.

"Oh, sorry, no thanks, I'm good..." Nick managed to say. She shrugged. "How about a game then?"

Nick liked games, but nothing came to mind. "I guess, but I'm more of a movie guy."

"Alright then," Bridget compromised, "how about you dare me to do stuff? I like a challenge."

Nick's mind began to race. This game could either be hilarious for the both of them, or devilishly arousing for him. He laughed. "Dare you?"

"Yeah, dare me to do stuff," she enunciated, "like Truth or Dare, except forget the truth bullshit. I'll do whatever you want."

Even hearing her say those words made Nick's lips tingle with a wondrous sensation that now flooded his entire body and immediately hardened his dick. It swelled quickly in his shorts, but they were - thankfully - covered up by a blanket.

Nick brought his forefinger to his chin, pretending to ponder his options. "You realize this could go quite badly for you." He smiled broadly, relishing every moment of this basement rendezvous. His eyes narrowed in the dimly-lit room, but Bridget was only smiling that coy, seductive smile of hers.

"Fine." He said. "Let's start with something easy. Do a dance for me."

Bridget almost threw her head back and laughed. "That's it? Easy."

She threw off the blanket that had been covering her legs, faced the wall, her ass facing him, and pulled up her shorts. Nick's dick kept rising, growing bigger and hotter by the second as he easily saw the bottoms of both her perfect ass-cheeks, peeking out at him in the light emanating from the TV.

Nick quickly snapped out of his near-hypnosis. "Wait!" He said, putting up his hand. Bridget's head spun around, but her body remained still, tight, her ass poised, her back arched ever so slightly, legs straight and stiff as his cock. "You can't dance without music, can you?" Nick took the remote and turned quickly to the music channel, selecting hip-hop. The song couldn't have been better, the beat perfectly-timed. Bridget nodded in approval. "That's right."

Nick sat back on the couch, remote in his hand, arms crossed across his chest, trying to act as passive as possible. "Let's see what you've got, missy."

Bridget turned her head to face the wall again...and on the down-beat began to shake her magnificent ass, swaying from side to side, keeping her back arched and her legs taut. Wriggling more fervently now, she ran her forefingers under her shorts, pulling them up even more, and squeezing them into the crack of her ass, making a makeshift mesh thong out of her volleyball shorts. Nick groaned loudly, and Bridget smiled, looking behind her at her audience. "I knew this is what you wanted," she breathed effortlessly. She began to twerk with precise skill now, shimmying down an imaginary stripper pole and back up again, mesmerizing Nick with her ass, gyrating and grinding against the air with ease, like she'd been doing it for years.

"How long have you known how to dance like that?" Nick croaked, his throat dry in his swelling ecstasy.

"Since I was 14," Bridget said nonchalantly. She continued to dance, bending over on her hands, shaking her ass just a few feet away from Nick's hungering face until he managed to muster the energy to mute the music. He waved his hand, recovering quickly from the head rush he was experiencing. "Alright, alright, enough, we get it. You got an ass, girl." He smiled.

She stayed standing, taking full advantage of the power she knew she had over him. She had her legs close together, the knee-high socks and Ugg boats keeping Nick's cock hard as a rock. She had one finger in her mouth, playfully biting her nail, looking at him like a high school crush looks at the boy she wants. Bridget always got what she wanted, too. "You want this, don't you?" she said.

Nick didn't answer straightaway. He knew what he wanted to say, but decided to choose his words carefully. "What if I did?"

Bridget didn't answer him, swaying the top half of her body from side to side slowly. She giggled. "You know you can have whatever you want. You made me dance. What do you want next?"

Nick's balls were engorged, and his cock wasn't going to take much more tantalization from her or anybody. He feared if he even touched it with his hand it would rupture and cover the couch in cum. He rather liked that idea: he thought he'd perhaps make her lick it up.

Nick looked right at her. "You're serious right now." He nearly stammered. Inside his head it was much more calm and collected; outwardly he was a bumbling teenager again.

She giggled again, this time coming back onto the couch, one leg on the ground the other knee against the soft leather. "Anything."

Nick looked into her eyes. Did he see the same closet freak that he Meghan hid from the world? Or did he see more darkness, even more sadism than even he could conjure?

Almost without thinking, he said, "Show me your tongue."

Bridget didn't seem to find this "dare" at all strange. She slowly slid her tongue out from her parted lips - it nearly reached to the edge of her chin. And it was pierced! How had he never noticed that before? A medium-sized pink ball sat directly in the middle of her tongue. "I know what you're thinking," she whispered.

Nick whispered back without hesitation. "What's that?"

"You're wondering if I'm as dirty as Meghan is with you."

Nick was almost speechless. "Wh-wait, what?" He managed to get out.

"I've heard you two fucking before. I've heard her with other guys in high school. She's definitely nastier than I thought. But I'm telling you, Nick..." she was so close to him now that even the breath from her whispering was raising his pulse, throbbing up and down his cock, "...I'm way dirtier."

Nick swallowed, but a huge lump remained in his throat. Her eyes were a mere six inches from his own. He let his inner machinations begin to churn.

"Tilt your head back." She sat back on her legs, tilted her head up towards the ceiling...and, without Nick saying a single word, opened her mouth. They both knew exactly what she wanted. What she was craving this entire time. Nick got onto his knees in front of her, took her head and neck in his hands gently, looking right down on her, and began collecting spit in his mouth. He let a string of drool slowly form on his lips. "Yes, yes, yes, please..." she began whispering. He could feel her hot breath tinged with beer against his lips as the string of spit descending slowly into her open, beckoning, warm mouth. He let it slide all the way down her tongue and into the back of her throat as far as he could see in the dim blue-grey light of the TV. She didn't choke, her eyes didn't water, she simply let it slide down into her esophagus, as welcome as any nourishment. And that's exactly what it was to her.

Nick backed up, and observed as she remained perfectly still, neck craning upward, mouth open, breathing silently through her nose. Nick nudged her arm. She closed her mouth and visibly swallowed the remnants of his saliva in her mouth, mixed with her own. He could see in her eyes she hungered for him, for his throbbing cock, for more kinkiness. He wasn't sure if she was as experienced as he, but he was damn sure going to find out.

END OF PART I