"Chris, I lied to you. I'm sorry but I did. I was unprepared to bare my soul to you. I was perfectly willing to bare my body, but not my soul. Please forgive me and listen to my story. No, don't interrupt, this will be very difficult for me, so let me tell you about my sister in my own way."
Sue began her tale with the death of her sister in a car crash, skipping over the details and her reactions. She explained that part was still too difficult to talk about. Her narrative then moved into the past to just after her eighteenth birthday. Puberty was already fully upon her, but she had discovered masturbation late. Her nineteen-year-old sister, Beverly, and she shared a small room in their parent's home. Consequently, pleasuring oneself was almost impossible. Sue would wait late into the night, before allowing her imagination to roam. Sue's fingers danced in her sex while she muffled her low moans. Sue never realized Bev was doing the same thing. That is, until one night when Bev heard her. Bev didn't know what to do, but she knew they shouldn't be hiding from one another.
The following night, Bev asked, "Is it alright if I sleep with you?" Sue loved Bev and was quite happy to accommodate her sister. They gossiped about everything until their conversation got around to sex. Bev said although she hadn't experienced it yet, she looked forward to the day she found the right boy. She started to talk about what might happen under those circumstances and as they talked, both girls became aroused. Bev finally asked Sue, "Would you be offended if I played with myself?" Bev said it was something she did almost every night not betraying she now knew Sue did too. While Bev lay beside her slowly stroking her pussy, Sue understood it would be pretty silly not to care for her own needs. They lay side by side as their fingers roamed through their sex; until, one after the other, they climaxed. Bev gave Sue a gentle peck of a kiss. She said it was nice and promptly fell asleep beside her. Without discussion, the girls never slept alone again. One would slip into the other's bed each night. They pleasured themselves without embarrassment as they talked about sex, often late into the night. Weeks and months passed as the conversations became more raunchy and intimate.
One night, Sue felt a hand over hers, helping her with her pleasuring. It was a new level and it felt wonderful, more exciting, bringing a deeper orgasm than she had experienced before. The following night, Sue returned the favor hesitantly placing her hand over her sister's as Bev stroked herself. Suddenly, Bev's hand disappeared leaving her on her own. For the first time, Sue felt her sister's pubic hair, the profuse moisture, and the soft lips, seemingly sucking on her fingers. As she pushed her fingers over Bev's clitoris, her sister's hips began to respond, thrusting hard against Sue's hand. Bev held a hand over her own mouth stifling the scream, so their parents wouldn't hear.
Then Bev's hand was on Sue's sex, playing, stirring, stimulating, until Sue grabbed the pillow and put it over her own face to muffle her sounds. Sue's hips, on their own volition, thrust at Bev's fingers. When she removed the pillow, she found Bev's face hovering above her own. Bev's fingers left Sue's pussy. Bev brought her fingers to her face and began to lick them, before sucking them into her mouth. Then, Beverly kissed her with a lover's kiss, driving her tongue into her mouth. Sue tasted herself. She loved it. Sue fell asleep that night spooned into her sister's body. Her bum was warming against her sister's belly, feeling Bev's breasts pressed against her back as one of her own breasts was firmly gripped in her sister's hand. Sue had been in love with her sister, but now she was deeply in love and never able to get enough of her warmth.
Things continued to escalate. One night, as she lay on her back, Bev asked Sue to straddle her face. With a knee on either side, her bum rested on her sister's chest just above where her breasts began, her sex totally exposed. Sue helped fold a pillow and stuff it behind Bev's head, which brought her face to within an inch of Sue's hairy, wet, swollen, demanding sex. Bev began to lick, first at the junctures of her legs and groin, then at her hairy outer lips. Sue's heat rose with each lick. Then, Beverly's tongue entered her as her hands gripped her hips and forced her body into a slow rotation against Bev's lips and tongue. Suddenly, Sue was fucking her sister's mouth. Hard and fast, she was driving for orgasm. Her sister, holding her tight, maintained her on her mouth. Her orgasm washed through her body as they listened to see if her noise had disturbed their parents.
Sue dismounted. Bev sighed and said, "That was the most fantastic kiss I've ever had." In that way, the term cunt kiss was born; it stayed with Sue the rest of her life. They fell deeply in love with each other enjoying each other's company despite an almost two-year age gap. They simply filled it with love. When Beverly took her first boy to bed, Sue was given an exact description of every detail. When Sue had her own first experience a few years later, Bev listened to her recount the event with love. They always told each other about their varying sexual encounters. They gave great detail, if something new or interesting had been discovered. Continuing to have many encounters of their own, they often ended with a cunt kiss. Strangely, neither went to bed with another woman; men were always their focal point.
"Then, suddenly one day, Beverly was gone," Sue now recounted to Chris as the tears rolled down her face. She was not sobbing; the tears simply came every time she remembered that moment in life. Chris took her in his arms, kissing each tear then kissing each ear, each cheek, each eyebrow, each eye, her nose and finally, her mouth. They were soft, gentle, loving kisses which strangely had no sex attached. Sue's thoughts raced. 'Damn it to hell! I'm a forty-year-old woman falling in love with an eighteen-year-old boy.' Breaking into her thoughts, Sue finished her story by looking deeply into Chris' eyes and saying, "I have regretted our sexual encounters ever since then; not because society told me my sister was forbidden fruit, but because I will never have them again. The one thing, which might have saved me from this agony, is to have never known the beauty of it in the first place. Chris, I will not advise you as to what to do. Take my experience and use the knowledge as you will." With that, she squirmed in his arms, seeking the most comfortable position with the most body contact. She enjoyed his soft kisses, which found interesting places on her body as well as her face. Oh, this boy did things to her.
Chris finally went home. He didn't want to go, but didn't want to leave his sister alone all night. As they ate supper, Chris asked what she had been doing all day. Jill's reply was to hand him a box. Inside the box was a series of pills with one missing. The label on the box informed him this was a three-month supply with refills sufficient for a year. She smiled with a look that made Chris extremely nervous. When it was time for bed and they arrived upstairs, she turned to him and put her arms around his neck. She brought her body up against him, her breasts pressed tightly against him. Then, she began to kiss him, her mouth moving sensuously over his. Her tongue probed and her pelvis ground, as his hardness grew against his abdomen. He knew she must be able to feel it, but she seemed undeterred as her body continued to grind against his. She broke the kiss and left him standing there. She undulated down the hall, giving her bum an extra swing as she entered her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
Chris was floored. He knew, in every sense of the phrase, he was a goner. Chris went to his bedroom to look after himself, remembering the kiss but also the story Sue had related to him of incestuous love. He loved Sue for her forthrightness. He tossed and turned, no longer sure of anything.
His sister, on the other hand, was removing from her closet packages she had purchased that day. She opened up one box to reveal a nightie of gossamer perfection and another to reveal a tiny cache de sex not unlike the one Chris had encountered on Sue. The sales clerk advised her it was not meant to hide but to entice. Jill's embarrassment was outweighed by her needs. She stripped, standing in front of the mirror, twisting and turning, checking her body for imperfections. Was that a pimple on her bum? No, it's only a red mark from where she had been sitting. It quickly faded. Were her hips too wide? No, they brought beautiful curves to her body. Were her breasts okay? Yes, their heavy sway and their dark-colored areolas were perfect. She played with her nipples just to watch them erect.
She turned, and from the box, removed the tiny thong, moving once again in front of the mirror. Jill stepped into it, first one leg then the other, pulling it up slowly. Its blackness contrasted sharply against the whiteness of her thighs. The dainty patch almost disappeared in her luxurious pubic hair. She admired the thinness of the string as it disappeared in the cleft of her buttocks. She liked the tiny cobweb perfection of the material clinging to her hips as it swung down toward her center to hold up the patch that filmed the view of her engorged sex. It almost hid the rosy-brown of her exposed inner lips. Jill once again went to a box. This time, she selected the filmy cloud of the nightie. She returned to the mirror as she dropped it over her head, allowing it to fall over her body - a smoky cloud that revealed one moment and hid the next. Her large breasts and the engorged nipples pushed the fabric away from her body. It formed a veil over her abdomen. She dabbed a touch of perfume behind each ear, instinctively careful not to use too much. She wanted the scent of her arousal to blend with it, hopefully, making a most powerful aphrodisiac.
Chris' sleep was filled with erotic dreams. They flashed between Sue and Jill, his subconscious admitting to his growing love for Sue. His sleep was fretful. In his dreams came a hint of perfume, the silky sound of fabric rustling against skin and warm breath against his ear. A voice said, "I am you mysterious lover come to you in the night. You don't know me. You only know of the love we have for each other. Call me your Sentinelle; you hear my calls for you in the night. Rest assured, now is the right time for our love." Lips he thought he recognized pressed tenderly against his own. Breasts rubbed against his chest; they hung down as she bent over him watching him in the light of the street lamp shining in his bedroom window.
He awoke to his sister standing proudly in the soft light. Her nightgown, a milky film, slightly revealed her perfection. He arose from his bed, accepting the subterfuge she had given him. She was a mysterious lover in the night, his Sentinelle, who waited for his touch. He took her in his arms; the softness of her body melded to his own. Her lips, soft and sweet, caressed his own as her tongue delved into his mouth lighting a fire she had been building for days in both of them. His hands, of their own volition, stole to her buttocks as her arms circled his neck, drawing them closer together. His hardness pressed tightly against her body. His lips kissed her eyes, her nose, as he bore her to his bed and sank into the opulence of her flesh. Her gown rode up her body and exposed her soft inner thighs to his gaze. He could not help himself. He bent down, his mouth exploring the delicate skin, so white, so succulent. He returned to her mouth sucking her tongue deep into his mouth and tasting her. His body quivered with desire.
She laid on the bed in the puddle of her nightie, feeling his movements, her cache de sex wetting in anticipation of what was to come. She shivered in excitement as his hands touched her breasts through the gossamer of her gown. The areolas popped her nipples into his hands as he felt the soft, heavy weight of her femininity drop into his hands. She burned with desire. Her legs spread a little hoping for his hands. She would not be disappointed. His hands stroked her thighs where, moments ago, his mouth had kissed her. They began to move up her body tangling in the gown, momentarily denying him access. Suddenly, it was gone, torn from her body! She didn't care. It had served its' purpose. Her man was upon her. His hands touched her there, noticing for the first time, the cache de sex. He rubbed her through the material then moved up her body to take her nude breasts for the first time. Without touching areola or nipple, he kissed one, kissed around, kissed under, kissed in-between.
