I went back to my room, slipped on a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a tee shirt and rejoined Sandy. Still naked, she was brushing her hair, still wet, in front of the mirror. She told me to pick out a pair of panties and a bra for her. I chose the flimsiest and softest ones I could find and she told me to put them on her. I knelt in front of her and she stepped into the panties. She spread her legs and I slid them up her smooth thighs. Placing my head between the thighs I planted a long licking kiss there and pulled the garment up onto her haunches.
Next, the bra. Rising to one knee I began to suck and lick her breasts, nibbling on the nipples until she moaned and said, “Cut it out or we'll never get to breakfast.”
“This is all the breakfast I need, Mama.”
“Come on.”
I cupped her breasts with the skimpy bra and started fumbling with the strap. “How the hell does this work?”
“Go around the back and look, stupid little brother.”
I did so, and the bra fell to the floor. “The hell with it. You don't need it. You look better without it.”
Sandy, chuckling, threw down her brush and stepped into a pair of shorts and slid on a tight cotton Jersey that looked like an undershirt and we went downstairs holding hands.
“Well, well, well, my only baby's two beautiful babies,” Grandma said as we entered the dining room and kissed her in turn on the cheek and joined her at the table. “You both get a good sleep?”
I was very fond of the old girl. She was a wizened little old lady who, even though she lived alone, still dressed impeccably every day, powdered and perfumed-in honor, I suppose, of the TV game show celebrities in whose vicarious company she spent the day.
“Yeah, Grandma,” I shouted, “we slept great.”.
“Now pitch right in, and you can have cornflakes, and there's milk there, and more in the icebox and I'll make some eggs if you want some, and coffee. Do you drink coffee, Sandra? I know Terry hates it.”
Sandy nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, please.”
“I'll have some too, Grandma,” I yelled, not wanting to destroy my new virile image by looking like a kid who couldn't stand coffee.
“Well, I see your sister exerts quite an influence over you. I hope it's a good one.” Grandma mumbled these words unintelligibly. She had developed the habit many deaf old folks adopt, that of expecting those around her to speak in a yell, while muttering her own words and forcing the others to say, What? as if they, not she, were deaf.
“What, Grandma?” I yelled.
She repeated the reference to Sandy's example while pouring our coffee. Sandy and I exchanged a swift, naughty grin.
“I didn't want to take on the job at first. It's not like it was when you were little ones. With this arthritis it's enough of a job just to get out of bed in the morning, so I'm going to need your help around the house, Sandy. But your mother thought it would be good for my joints. I only agreed when she promised me you wouldn't be a nuisance to me. She said you knew how to take care of yourselves. I hope she was right.”
“Sure, Gramma, we know how to take care of ourselves,” Sandy shouted as I choked on a cornflake.
“Well, that's good. There's not going to be much entertainment around here-there won't be any going into town for movies and there's no neighbors. You're going to be mighty bored and restless. I hope you'll be able to amuse yourselves.”
“We'll think of something,” I yelled as Sandy covered her mouth with her napkin.
“What do you young folks do with yourselves nowaday, anyway? When I was a girl we had all kinds of games we played.”
“We have our own games, Grandma,” I said..
“Eh?”
“I said we have our own games!” I roared, and Sandy started to laugh.
“Well, Sandy seems to like them,” she said. “I'm glad of that. Won't have her sneaking off to meet some boy, I hope. That's what I was worried about with you, young lady, let me tell you. I told your mother, 'No dates, or no girl.' So if you've got boys on your mind you can forget about them for the summer.”
“That's okay with me, Grandma,” she said.
“I make sure of that Grandma,” I shouted. “I'll keep my eyes on her morning, noon and night. She'll never get out of my clutches.”
“Well, that's a relief. When I was young, a girl didn't go courting with a man unless he asked her to marry him.”
“Ah, go on, Grandma,” I yelled. “You're not that old. People weren't even that strict back in the old ancient Roman days.”
“Well, I may exaggerate a little to make my point, but anyway, I'm glad you're the kind of girl that's happy to play games with her brother and doesn't have to go chasing after every Tom, Dick and Harry that makes eyes at her.”
“Me, too, Grandma,” I shouted.
“So that's my sermon for this morning, and I'm glad we understand one another. Now you two go out and play, and I'll clean up the dishes.”
“I'll do it,” Sandy said, and bolted up with our plates.
“Don't you dare,” Grandma said. “You're not going to make me feel like a crippled old invalid on your first day here. You'll have plenty of work to do starting tomorrow. Not today.”
“That's okay, Grandma.”
“Do as I say, young lady, or I'll have your brother take you out back for a whipping.”
“Go ahead, help her,” I mumbled.
“Now run along with your brother.”
We bolted out the back door hand in hand and started to run fast, laughing as we went. It was a gorgeously warm summer morning-the bright sun halfway up to the zenith, cloudless sky, the rich air full of the odors of wildflowers, the damp grass and the heavy foliage of the nearby woods. Almost without pausing we pulled off our shoes to run in the thickening grass, and put them right back on when Sandy stepped on a sharp twig.
“Why didn't you disobey her? Then I could've whipped you.”
“Why do you need her to tell you to whip me? If you really want to, you'll do it yourself.”
“I'll remember that.”
“I hope so.”
She took off running and I chased after her. We came to the edge of the woods and slowed down. In the summers of our childhood we were afraid of wild beasts-bears, boars, lions, tigers and hyenas, and the woods still held unspoken mysteries for us. Holding hands, we proceeded cautiously, brushing low-lying branches out of the way and trying to follow the overgrown path so vaguely remembered which would take us to the stream.
After losing our way several times we arrived at it-a lazily winding spring-fed brook, ice cold, moving through patches of sunlight, shade and the leaf-speckled mixture of both.
“Let's go wading,” I said.
“Let's take off our clothes first.”
We stripped hurriedly, avidly, facing each other, and when we were both nude we embraced fiercely. I wanted her immediately and ground my need into her abdomen.
“Not yet, Terry,” she said, pushing me away lightly, “let's go downstream a ways.”
We laid our clothes in a bundle at the base of a familiar weeping willow and began wading downstream, our joined hands moving back and forth in front of us to tingle our arousal.
The water began getting deeper, and I remembered the spot she must have had in mind when she suggested we wade downstream. There was a natural dam which formed a little pool deep enough to swim in, and alongside it was a gently sloping rock overgrown with mossy grass, as soft as a bed, with the rich texture of a golf green in need of a little cutting.
The water was nearly four feet deep now, and we pushed out into it, swimming gently in the breast stroke, our arms and legs lightly intermingling as we swam. There was the rock. It hadn't budged, and nobody had manicured the moss. Sunlight played upon it through the wind-rocked leaves.
I pulled myself up and then reached out for Sandy, her white body shimmering through the clear swirls of the water.
We huddled together and rolled over on the moss to dry ourselves. I kissed her hungrily on the mouth and felt her lips and tongue, cool from the cool water, melt into mine and heat rapidly. I sunk my mouth to her throat and embraced her breast feverishly, feeling the nipple, also cold and hard from the water, go hot and hard.
“Aren't you going to ask me the question?” she said.
“What question?”
“Don't you remember? From this morning? About what was wrong?”
“Oh yeah. What was it?” I said, preoccupied with biting and licking her nipples.
“Did you enjoy yourself this morning?”
“Jesus, I've never been so happy in my life. It was so beautiful, Sandy. What's the matter. Didn't you like it?”
“I loved it too, Terry, you're so good with me, you're perfect, you just fit and it touches every part of me, and you're so beautiful, but-”
“But what? I'm your brother and you're not supposed to?”
“No, Terry, it's not that, it's just you're too damn fast and greedy to get to the end of everything. It takes a girl longer to get there. You have to hold your horses. Didn't you know that?”
“No, I didn't.”
“Think you can?”
“I think I could do anything for you.”
“Kiss me, Terry,” she said. She lay flat on her back, her beautiful young body spread out on the moss, her legs wide, her breasts heaving. I rolled on top of her and kissed her a long, hot moment until I felt her hands pushing my shoulders down. I slid along her and seized one of her breasts, kneading the nipple with my lips and teeth until she squealed with pleasure and I took the other one.
“Kiss me again, the way you did this morning when you put on my panties.”
I moved down further and buried my face in her thighs. She thrust up her hips as I kissed and bit, licked and sucked and licked, drinking in the sweet warm scent of her girlhood.
“Take me now, Terry, take me now,” she sobbed, and I needed no pulling to spring forward so that we met mouth to mouth, nipples to nipples and toe to toe. She had me in her hand and guided me to her into her.
I thrust slowly and probed deeply, wriggling in circles and withdrawing almost to the point of separation, then thrusting even more deeply. At times our sweet, juicy rhythm would pick up in speed and then I would ease off slowly and pause to probe her if I felt our act of joy had a chance to end inadvertently then and there.
Moaning and gasping on the moss, by the brook, in the sun, in the morning, in the woods, our bloodstreams and our bodies and our nervous systems interlocked, we made love joyously, totally, innocently and incestuously. In this way we built and built and built to such a point that when it came — and I knew it was coming then, knew too from the gasping of her breath and the frenzy of her loins and claws in my back-it came in such a shuddering torrent of convulsive ecstasy for both of us that the waves of orgasm seemed to last as long or longer than the many minutes (or was it hours) of delicious wrestling and diving that we had spent building up to that explosive, blinding shock wave.
We lay together for a long while after that with our bodies still interlocked, heavily breathing, gasping, murmuring all the words of love and enslavement, exchanging warm, slow kisses of a lassitude and tenderness that was beyond passion.
Then I withdrew, and slid along her body to nestle my head on her breast. We stroked each other and sweated against each other and listened to the brook slide by.
I fell asleep, and when I woke up saw Sandy asleep too. I slid off of her and alongside her and she woke up. She smiled, the freest, happiest smile I've ever seen. I returned it. I was so overcome with joy that I threw myself against her and started to sob. I pulled away so I could see her face again and she was crying too. For once in our lives, we were happy.
We talked for a long time about nothing, about the birds and the moss and the leaves and the sun and the brook and the mosquito which landed on her ass and which I killed with a sharp whack, making Sandy scream and raising a beautiful pink splotch on her behind.
I kissed it, and sucked on the insect bite to try to reduce the swelling, but only succeeded in leaving teeth marks and another bruise.
“Was this your first time with a girl?” she asked. “This morning?”
“Yes. Your feet received my virgin seed.”
“That sounds like a poem.”
“What kind of books have you been reading?” I asked. “What about you? Have you ever done it before?”
She nodded her head. My face dropped a mile. She saw this and stroked it. “Now don't get jealous.”
“Who was the bastard? If I ever meet him I'll tear his guts out. My own sister!”
“Just a boy I met while I was at school. He took me out a lot on weekends. To drive-ins and stuff. He had a car.”
“You can always walk to drive-ins.”
“Don't get funny. His name was Don and he had red hair, a red face and freckles.”
“He sounds ugly.”
“He wasn't. He was very good-looking.”
“I'll bet.”
“If you don't want to hear about it, Terry, I'll shut up and, you can go back to Grandma.”
“I'm listening.”
“Well, we moved from the front-seat sitting position to front seat horizontal. Then to the back seat vertical to back seat lying on my back. In the process, according to the accepted rules, we went, date by date, from kissing to light petting above the waist with shirts on to light petting below the waist outside the clothes to heavy petting above the waist under the clothes to heavy petting below the waist under the clothes to heavy petting above the waist with our shirts and my bra off to heavy petting with masturbation with our clothes on to heavy petting and mutual masturbation with all our clothes off to coitus interruptus-you know what that is?”
“No.”
“It's when you pull it out before anything happens.”
“Oh. What was the next step?”
“Screwing. Just plain screwing. He used a rubber the first time, and by the time he got it on he couldn't get it in. The second night he put it on beforehand.”
“So what happened?”
“It hurt him so much he had to take it off.”
“And this was your big love?”
“I haven't finished yet. Finally one night he got it on and got it in but after about five minutes a cop car came by and we crouched down in the seat so they couldn't see us but Don got scared and couldn't do anything more so we went home. I never saw him again after that.”
“True love always ends in a tragedy.”
“Ha. Ha.”
“Did he mean anything to you? Did you like him?”
“In an offhand sort of way. He was somebody to go out with. He was nice to look at, he had a car and plenty of money to spend on me. But by the time he went through the whole crazy routine of touching one part of me one night and the next part the next I got so frustrated I could scream. I don't think he even wanted me as much as I wanted him — he just wanted to prove himself on me. And what a miserable flop he turned out to be.”
“Was he the only one?”
“Until you. You're the first one, Terry, the first one to make love to me like that and make me feel like a goddess. Boy, did you learn fast. I can't believe you never did anything with a girl before.”
“I've never been much interested in them, I guess. Between you and Mommy, you make other girls look so dull and grubby. Maybe I've been saving my hymen for you.”
This broke her up for some reason I didn't understand.
“Hymen! Boys don't have hymens, that's what girls have.”
“What do boys have?”
“They don't have anything. They just squirt it all over the place from the minute they're born.”
“Oh.” I paused for a moment, wondering if I should dredge what was on my mind out of the past, or not. “There was one other thing that happened to me. I don't know if I should tell you or not.”
“What is it?”
“It happened so long ago, I'm not even sure if I want to or ought to…”
“Tell me, Terry.”
“It happened just before Daddy and Mommy busted up. He came into my room one night and he was drunk. He snapped on the light and told me that I did something wrong or said something wrong — I don't even remember what it was. He yanked me out of bed and made me take off my pyjamas and lie in his lap, face down. Then he spanked the living shit out of me. And a funny thing happened- I got very excited and had an erection. When he let me go he saw it and made me lie in his lap again- only this time, face up. And he took me with his mouth. I was scared to death. It felt good, but I was really scared he was going to bite it off. Finally he got tired, kissed me good night, apologized, made me promise not to tell anybody what happened, and he left.”
“Oh, my God, Terry. What did you do?”
“What could I do? I got scared, that's all.
Scared and ashamed. And when Daddy left I was sure it was my fault.”
“How could it have been your fault?”
“It couldn't have been, but that's the way kids think. Everything's their fault.”
“Poor Terry,” she said, and laid her head on my chest, kissing it. Her warm presence wiped away the ugly odors of the past.
“So that's my wonderful sex life. Except for one other thing.”
“What's that?” she asked.
“I used to play with myself a lot.”
“When did you stop?”
“Today.”
She ran her hand across my belly and downward. “You better stop. You've got to save it all for me.”
“Know what I thought about?”
“I don't know. What did you do? Read dirty books?”
“Nope. I thought about you.”
“You're kidding me,” she said.
“No I'm not. Everything we did today was like right out of a dream. I used to think about us on this rock all the time.”
“That's fantastic. I don't believe it.”
“Suit yourself, but it's true.”
“What about the first time? In the bathtub with the feet?”
“I never thought of that before,” I said.
“See? Look at the sun.”
“It's right overhead, just about.”
“That means it's noon, and Grandma's got lunch for us.”
“All you ever think about is eating.”
“Yup,” she said, and rolled over on top of me, pressing her breasts into my thighs and grabbing me with both her hands. She let her tongue and lips lick and brush against the red erected tip while I lay back moaning. Then she entered it into her mouth all the way to the back of her throat, running her tongue along the length of it, and withdrew, tickling the tip. She repeated the motion, repeated it again, her speed and suction increasing as she gathered momentum. Digging her nails into my buttocks she pulled me up into her and I responded by thrusting and withdrawing to her rhythm until I stopped, stiffened all the way up into her with the sun beating down onto my head.
She drank deeply of me until I had relaxed and then slid snakelike up my body to kiss me full, saltily on the mouth.
“Oh, Sandy, that was so good.”
“Did you like it?”
“Jesus, yes. What brought it on?”
“Can't I do anything I want with you?”
“Anything.”
“I never did that to a boy before. But I wanted to do it to you because of what you said.”
“What do you mean? About eating?”
“No, about Daddy. I didn't want you to think it was so bad all by itself just because he did it to you.”
“We sure make one hell of a family.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Nothing. I'll race you back to our clothes.”