It Started with a Iss

A beam of light no thicker than the fine edge of a piece of paper passed through the gap in the curtains and struck Frank's left eyelid. The eye subsequently twitched and the bizarre dream his mind had been manifesting popped like a bubble being penetrated by a pin. He groggily ascended from the sandman's clutches and found that he couldn't recall the dream, only its nature, which had been leaning towards the too-bizarre-to-speak-of category.

Frank shifted around restlessly and yawned. The memory floodgates crashed open and the previous day's activities flooded back to him in an instant, causing him to become overwhelmed by images of Monica in various stages of undress. Had it all been a dream? Or had he and his sister actually done all those wonderful things to each other?

The final remnants of sleep drifted away and all that was left was a wide-eyed disbelief that he and Monica had almost had sex. His penis had been inside her vagina. It had been as deep as it could possibly go and the sensation had left him aching to penetrate her again.

Their parents had chosen the most inconvenient time to call it a night. Damn them!

That was when he heard a soft snort and a gentle noise that almost sounded like someone snoring. Instinct, as well as common sense, told him he wasn't alone, that someone was in his room, quite possibly in his bed.

When he'd been dating Kathy they'd begun sleeping together on a regular basis. After a few weeks of using his uncouth single bed, Kathy had coyly suggested that he purchase a queen-size bed so that their sexual antics could be undertaken with a greater degree of comfort.

For a few terrible seconds it passed through Frank's hazy mind that Kathy must've snuck into their house and slipped underneath the covers with him. What would Monica say if she found his ex-girlfriend lying in bed with him? How would he be able to explain the inexplicable?

That was the defining moment when Frank knew that he was completely over Kathy, where he worried more about his blooming relationship with Monica than a past love that he still felt the pain from.

Kathy was the past, he now realized. And somehow, with the stars aligned, galaxies in sync and all known dimensions locking into each other at one singular moment – Frank had developed an intense crush on his sister, which seemed reciprocated in kind.

Imagining the worst and not stealing himself for the best, Frank whipped his body around and found himself staring into the back of a girl's head. It wasn't Kathy. For starters Kathy's hair was brown, not blonde, and Kathy had her hair styled into flamboyant shag that was lucky to make it half way down her neck. This blonde's hair was straight and long enough to disappear underneath his Spider-Man blanket.

Relief washed over him and his heart-rate stabilized when he realized that the snoring girl lying next to him was Monica. Cute, sexy and utterly adorable Monica. Frank felt his lips transform into a warm smile and his chest flutter. Under the cover of darkness she'd stolen into his room just to sleep in his presence. There was something about that which seemed to extend beyond romance, and while it touched Frank deeply it also scared him a little.

"Mon," he whispered. "You awake?"

The only answer he received was a sudden snort and then the continuation of her light snoring. He shifted closer until his chest molded itself into the natural curve of her back, and with more than a little embarrassment he felt the early stages of an erection springing to life.

Another quick snort exited her nose when, unable to help himself, he slipped his right arm around her waist and ran his hand over the smooth warm skin of her stomach. His hand caressed her in lazy circles, wishing that he could lower it inside her panties or let it travel higher to explore the miniature mountains protruding from her chest.

God she smelled good. It wasn't because she was wearing perfume (which she wasn't) or because she'd bought the newest brand of intoxicating deodorant (which she hadn't), it was her natural scent that drifted over him mixed with whatever shampoos and soaps she used whilst showering. Her aroma was overpowering and now that he'd gotten a taste of waking up with it he didn't want to go back to the time when he wasn't awarded this luxury.

After stroking Monica's firm stomach for a while Frank was beginning to get a little fidgety. His cock was now fully erect and pressing painfully against the thin fabric of her panties, obviously being able to sniff her out with its strong pussy radar.

He wanted to touch his sister in a way a brother shouldn't. Society told him it was morally unacceptable to squeeze and play with her breasts, but that wouldn't stop him. It couldn't stop him, because touching her felt as natural as any time he'd touched Kathy.

So, without even second-guessing himself, he slid his hand up the inside of her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt and cupped the underside of her springy breasts, taking turns fondling each one so they both felt equally appreciated.

This caused Monica to stir and break the monotonous snoring with a long, soft moan. That moan only caused him to stiffen more, which in turn was greeted by her ass wriggling back against him, grinding his cock into the crevice, panties and all. If Monica had a problem with being groped while she slept, she was certainly having a rather difficult time expressing her disapproval.

"Mmm, you deviant, I can't believe you'd take advantage of your sleeping sister like this," she groaned. The last shackles of sleep must've still had a firm grasp on her, because her voice sounded groggy and slightly weary.

"I could always stop," he whispered.

"No, your hand's there now, so you may as well put it to good use."

Heeding her advice, Frank continued to massage and gently knead the soft mounds of flesh, brushing his fingers over her stiff nipples to give them a dose of stimulation. Each time his thumb and forefinger closed around her nipples he'd pinch lightly, which elicited small cries and gasps from Monica's mouth.

"Would you mind turning around?" he asked.

There was no hesitation. Her lithe body rolled on the spot until she'd swung all the way around and now lay on her right side with her face aimed straight at his. The direction she'd rolled meant that he hadn't needed to retract his hand, so it was still stuffed up her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt, stroking those two beautiful globes while he stared deeply into her leaf-green eyes.

There could be no denying it, mostly what he wanted to do was tear the sheets away and rip her scanty clothes from her semi-naked body. Last night he'd been teased by all the possibilities of what Monica wanted to offer him, and right now he desperately wanted to start from where they'd left off.

"G'morning," she said with a dreamy smile.

"Hi," he shot back, smiling. "What's a girl like you doing in a bed like this?"

Monica let out an exaggerated yawn, leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was basically a kiss hello; there was no lust or need in it at all. His mouth tasted pretty disgusting, so it was probably for the best that they didn't launch into a full-fisted tongue war.

"Would you like me to leave?" she asked with a pout.

"No, you're here now, so I may as well put you to good use."

The look on her face was priceless. A kinky smile had replaced her dreamy one and her eyes shone with mischief. She snuggled closer to him until her breasts touched his chest, causing his hand to become trapped between their bodies. "And just how would you plan on doing that?"

"Would you like a brief blurb or a blow by blow description?"

"Blow by blow," she replied seductively, running her tongue out over her lips in a blatant sexual come-on.

Frank removed his hand from her breasts and placed it at the small of her back, touching bare skin because her Winnie the Pooh t-shirt had worked its way up her body. Then he urged her to snuggle closer until her breasts were mashed against his chest and her nose was touching his. They kissed gnome style, rubbing their noses gently back and forth, never once breaking eye contact.

"First," he whispered, 'I'd peel the sheets back and reveal your lovely body. Then, while I was trying not to drool all over you, I'd remove your panties and your t-shirt and then run my hands over every square inch of your bare skin. After touching you, I'd run my tongue over your hot naked flesh, paying particular attention to your breasts and what lies between your legs."

Monica shuddered against him and she closed her eyes. "Go on, keep talking," she urged.

"Then, after licking every millimeter of your body, I'd crawl between your legs and give your pussy the real attention it deserves. I'd suck and lick at it, from time to time even shove my tongue or a couple of fingers inside to really get you going."

Instead of reaching down to touch herself as he turned her on, Monica cocked her leg and lifted her body until the damp fabric of her panties rested on his thigh. The basketball shorts he was wearing were cut short, which meant that he could feel the warm lips of her pussy because her soaked panties were pressed against his bare skin.

She started to rub herself against his thigh and she let out a cute little sigh. They were still gnome kissing and his hand was drifting all over her back, going up under her t-shirt to caress the smooth contours of her soft skin.

"Would you make me cum?" she whispered, flicking her tongue against his mouth and licking his lips.

"I'd eat you out until you were on the verge of cumming, but would stop before you did."

"Bastard," she groaned. "All men are bastards."

Frank laughed and tried to block out the fact that her sliding pussy was leaving a residue of moisture on his thigh. "I'd make you so horny that you would eventually beg me to fuck you."

"I'm ready to beg right now," she whimpered.

The reason they were playing this game was because they couldn't act out any need they pined to fulfill. Their parents could be heard making breakfast in the kitchen, and because Monica had a loud set of lungs on her when she had an orgasm, they couldn't jeopardize getting caught by fooling around while they were in the house.

Pouting, Monica opened her eyes and let her cocked leg drop away from his thigh, the sensation of her rubbing pussy missed as soon as it departed. The fact that she had such a powerful undercurrent of sexuality excited Frank to no end, because he'd always thought that Monica was kind of a prude. Preconceived notions always have a habit of being shown to be false ones.

It wasn't his fault, because he was a guy. Men have trouble understanding that women have as high a sex drive as their counterparts, and that the female species probably think about – and want – sex just as much, if not more so, than men. That's why when it comes to sex women hold all the keys that open all the doors. The male populous simply assume that women don't want it as much, hence women control it because guys are too impatient to wait a girl out.

Still shaking slightly, Monica slipped her left arm around his waist and rested her cheek flush against his. They sat there for a while and simply held each other, cuddling, until she pulled her head away and flashed him a weak smile.

"God Frank, I don't think I could ever want you as badly as I do right now."

"I want you too, Mon," he sighed. "But we can't, not with mom and dad in the house."

"I'll be super quiet. I promise that I won't make any noise at all."

All of a sudden his stiff manhood was being fondled and he let out a gasp of pleasure. Monica, his sweet little sister, was massaging his cock through his basketball shorts and the intense thrill it sent through his body caused his eyes to reflexively screw themselves shut.

"Oh wow, Franky. You're so stiff and hard...so warm. I know the best prescription for one of these." She continued to stroke and torment his engorged cock. "Do you want to know what the prescription is?"

"No," he groaned.

"Yes you do," she teased. "I'll give you a hint. It starts with p and ends with y, and another word for it rhymes with the word 'hunt.'"

It was more than he could possibly take. Before he lost all control he disentangled himself from Monica's gorgeous body and leapt from the bed. The sheets flew everywhere and her scantily clad body was exposed in all its glory. Her legs were splayed apart and her white cotton panties were pulled taut against the twin folds of her pussy. There was a dark patch of wetness spreading out from the obvious indentation of her slit and for a few crazy moments he wanted to climb between her legs and inhale her rich, sexy smell.

"C'mon," he said, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her off the mattress.

"Can you blame a girl for trying?" she asked coyly.

"I sure can't. But Monica, it will be so much better when we're alone and can make as much noise as we like."

"I know. I just want you so damned much though."

There was just one little problem – Frank couldn't keep his hands off her. After all this time fantasizing about her it remained difficult for him to resist the urge to touch her in any way that had thus far been prohibited. Like now, the need to take her in his arms was so overpowering that he couldn't help himself.

They clutched at each other like departing lovers at an airport, unable and unwilling to let the other go. Both of them lowered their chins into the crook of the other's shoulder and their cheeks brushed as their bodies writhed at their standstill.

Blinding sunlight was streaming into the room from behind the closed curtains and it was bathing them in its pleasant glow. Monica's honey-blonde hair shimmered and was streaked with tinges of orange, almost to the point where it looked like flames were licking along the shoulder-length strands.

"It's all mom and dad's fault, they should never have come home so early last night. I was really getting into it and I positively loved having your cock inside me."

"Did you hear them after they got home?" he asked.

Last night, when Frank had left Monica and snuck back to his room, his parents had just been coming through the front door. After taking care of business (furiously fisting his cock while inhaling Monica's scent from her panties), his parents, Nathan and Jean Cassidy, had assumed they were both asleep and proceeded to fuck the living daylights out of each other. His father must have the stamina of a bull. In just over two hours Frank had counted six orgasms that his father had given his mother, and boy, whilst in the throes of passion they'd both been as loud as wild animals.

Now here was the interesting part. It was undeniable that he was attracted to Monica – her flowing blonde hair, adorable face, full breasts, slender legs and creamy complexion – but when Frank thought of his mother in any context that approached the boundaries of being sexual in nature, he became well and truly disgusted. The idea sickened him, the very thought of their parents fucking made his skin crawl. This was considerably strange seeing as how he was madly in love with his sister.

"They were pretty loud," she said with a giggle. "I couldn't sleep at all, which is why I eventually snuck in here to sleep with you. Knowing you were here, so close to me, I couldn't help myself."

"Mon..."

"Yes?"

"I want you. I need you so badly that it hurts."

"I can make it all better," she cooed, then slipped her hand back between his legs and began to massage him again. She pulled her chin out of the crook of his shoulder and stared at him, a lopsided smile flickering across her lips. "I'll suck it, if you want me to. I won't expect anything in return."

The offer was so sweet that it took every ounce of stupidity coursing through his body to decline. Stupidity and romanticism, aren't they the same thing?

"That's hardly fair, Mon. There's no way I could let you satisfy me if I can't return the favor."

Her eyes leapt wide and her smile grew larger. "Are you turning down a blowjob?"

"If you have to be left feeling as horny as hell, then I think it's only fair that I should be too."

Monica gave him a huge sloppy kiss on the cheek and hugged him to her body. He had a beautiful, semi-naked girl in his room who was professing an intense desire to fuck him – or in the very least suck his cock – and he had to send her away empty handed. It made him want to curl up on his bed and cry like a little baby.

The light emitting diodes on his clock read 7:29am, and Frank realized that he and Monica had to get ready for school. Once they had both made certain the cost was clear, he ushered Monica out the door and watched her swishing ass as she crept down the passageway. Before she entered her room she paused, turned to him and blew him a kiss. Then she disappeared from his line of sight and he closed his door with a sigh.

It was undoubtedly going to be a very, very long day.

* * * * *

Frank waltzed into the kitchen with a spring in his step and a cocky, life-is-great smile on his face. The fact that his parents were in the middle of making out didn't sway his mood in the slightest, because it instantly brought to mind how wonderful it felt to have Monica in his arms and her tongue in his mouth.

Jean and Nathan Cassidy had always been liberal with how they displayed their affection for one another. That's not to say that it was all sex – although a lot of the time it was – there was also a vast ocean of romance thrown in for good measure.

Quite often Nathan would bring home a wide variety freshly picked flowers, a romance movie and a bottle of champagne, simply to celebrate the fact that he was married to a woman who he dearly loved. Sometimes he would pen some soppy poetry and leave it attached to any given wall in the house for Jean to read, often laying his heart on his sleeve in a poorly written limerick or two.

"Hey kiddo, you're looking very chipper this morning," Jean said, breaking away from her husband.

For a thirty-seven-year-old woman she was remarkably fit, the result of a strenuous sex life and an exercising routine you could set your watch by. In fact, Jean Cassidy could probably pass herself off as a thirty-year-old with ease. Monica had inherited her beautiful honey-blonde hair from her mother, but Jean's flowed even farther down her back until it hovered around the curves of her ass. The generous swells of her breasts hadn't sagged with age and her figure was trim but lush – heads turned when she walked into a crowded room.

"G'morning mom, dad, well...what's not to be chipper about?"

Jean turned to her husband with her mouth agape and her eyes bulging, playing the drama queen to perfection. "Nathan, it is a school day, isn't it?"

"Yes dear, I'll get the straightjacket while you hold him down."

Nathan Cassidy had clearly passed down his own genetic material to his son. His roughish good looks were enhanced by a boyish charm, both evident in his playful blue eyes and quick, friendly smile. His chocolate-brown hair was graying at the temples but this only added an air of distinction and class, which he already had in spades.

They both turned to him sporting curious expressions and he suddenly felt his cheeks catch fire. They couldn't possibly know, but it felt as if they suspected that he was hiding something from them.

"School isn't that bad," he argued.

"Okay honey," his mother said, moving in for the kill with the good ol' hand thermometer. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? Nathan, we better call the doctor, Frank's starting to enjoy school. It could be fatal."

"Okay dear, I'll go get the phone while you keep him distracted."

Frank just shook his head and started laughing hard. His parents were the most subdued people you could ever find. They understood that children couldn't be expected to hit the books and study all the time, and that forcing the issue only makes the situation worse. Also, Jean and Nathan Cassidy both had the driest humor, which quite often left people laughing nervously when they weren't sure if they were being sarcastic or not.