I've Never Issed My Sister

I've never kissed my sister.

I first heard that phrase from my high school coach. We'd just tied our cross-town rivals and he addressed us in the locker room, saying, "Well, we kissed our sister out there." It was off-putting at first, but I got the meaning. Something that could have been either good or bad ended up just being pointless.

I've never kissed my sister.

She's two years younger than me. Mom named her "Mercedes" because she thought it sounded pretty. When we were kids I used to call her "Volkswagen" to make her mad. Mom wanted me to stop, but dad laughed affectionately and started calling her "Bug", and that one stuck. Back then we were always either provoking or ignoring each other. These days we're both adults and we get along just fine, but growing up every little thing would be a huge drama.

I've never kissed my sister.

I can understand why guys would want to, though. I'm tall like our dad, but Mercy takes after our mom. She's short with not much up top but plenty of curves below. C-plus tits, A-plus ass, cute face, bouncy black hair. She's never been the type of hot girl you'd see in a magazine but she's attractive enough.

I've never kissed my sister.

But there was one summer ... a long time ago ...

When we fucked the absolute

hell

out of each other.

It was the summer after her high school graduation, when she was eighteen and I was twenty. I was home from college and living with our parents while I did part-time jobs for cash. It was the last time we all lived together in the home where we grew up and the cramped quarters were really starting to weigh on me.

We lived in a split-level house out in the suburbs. The kind with a walkout basement family room, half-stair up to a kitchen and living room area, then half-stair again to the bedrooms above the basement. There was one main bathroom up there, with the master bedroom just past it where our parents slept. They had their own little bathroom and shower but my sister and I had to share the other one.

The other large bedroom had been mine when we were growing up. Big brother privileges. But after I left for college Mercy took it over so when I came home for the summer I was crammed into the small room directly across from the bathroom. Between my sister's old desk and the twin bed, there was barely any floor space. I had a small TV hooked up to my N64 and a worn-out bean bag chair to sit on but that was it.

The bed itself was a whole other thing. I'm not super tall, but my feet would still hang off the end more often than not. I had to sleep in a kind of fetal position, with the wall pressing on one side so I couldn't even stretch out. That and our dad's refusal to set the thermostat any lower than 78F made it so I was in a constant state of low-key grumpiness.

Mercy didn't make it any better. She was loudly annoyed at having to share space with me again. The tiny bathroom vanity we shared was covered with sprays and lotions - not to mention her curling iron and hair dryer. I had to keep all my bathroom stuff in my room. Sometimes she'd even throw the shampoo bottle I kept in the shower on my bed while I was gone, leaving a wet spot on the covers.

Mostly I survived it by not being around. I worked as much as I could and hung out at my friends' houses a ton. But sometimes I'd still end up at home. I worked a lot of late shifts, so this would often be during the day when our parents were both at work and Mercy was used to having the house to herself.

She'd get up around noon and wander around in a t-shirt and a pair of Care Bear pajama bottoms she'd had since middle school. They were still the right length since she hadn't grown an inch since then, but they clung snugly where her ass and hips had filled out. She'd usually complain about how I'd left the shower dirty or how my clothes all over the floor of my room made it "gross" to walk down the hallway. Then she'd go into her room and blare the annoying local pop station on her crappy little boombox.

Most of this I took without responding. I was the older one and I was supposed to be more mature, after all. Plus, living in the college dorms for two years had taught me that sometimes you just had to let the little things go for the sake of getting along with people. And I still had my CD player to drown out her music with some Zeppelin when I couldn't stand it any more.

When she had friends coming over she'd spend a whole hour in the bathroom getting ready. This was just to hang out

in her room

. If she was going out somewhere it would be two hours - and god forbid if I had to go to the bathroom during that time. I'd have to walk all the way down to the guest bath in the basement.

When her friends arrived she'd walk ahead of them and shut my door before they passed. "That's my brother's room - it's gross," she'd say. One of her friends would make some joke about me jacking off in there and they'd all laugh. But after they'd passed I'd open the door again, since otherwise I felt like I was in a closet.

As a result, I ended up hearing a lot of their conversations. I wasn't eavesdropping on purpose - teenage girls just tend to be loud. I'd never paid much attention to my sister's social life, but gradually I picked up on a few things. Apparently she'd gone to prom with some boy who'd cheated on her the next day and she and her friends were still angry about that. She'd dumped him, of course. So they talked shit about him and the "skank" he was dating now. Their words, not mine.

They also kept trying to set her up with various guys. Mercy seemed eager to go along with that. More than once I heard her allude to wanting to get laid, which would make her friends giggle. She'd go out on what were obviously dates from time to time, though she was cagey about the details when mom would ask. I never knew the specifics, but it always seemed from her grumpy mood the next morning that none of them went very well.

On one particular weekday I was playing games in my room, sitting on the bean bag and keeping the fan pointed at my face. She'd had a date the night before, but today she was just listless rather than grumpy. She wandered past my door several times wearing those PJs and a Michael Jackson

Thriller

tour shirt. Finally she stopped at the doorway and stood there staring at me for a bit.

Then she stepped into the room. "Sup, dweeb?" she said.

"Nothing, bug," I answered. She rarely started conversations that didn't quickly become arguments, so I braced myself for a wave of invectives.

She looked around for a minute as I ignored her and continued to play my game. "You picked your dirty clothes up. It's some kinda miracle."

"So I'm not

completely

gross, I guess."

"No, you're still gross," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She watched me play my game for a couple of minutes. It was weird having her there, her knee right by my ear as I reclined on the chair.

I got to the boss fight and started really focusing on it. Suddenly she stuck out her bare foot and pushed the controller aside. "Knock it off!" I said, trying to pull it back.

She giggled and kicked my arm and hand some more. "Knock what off?" she asked, innocently.

Exasperated, I quickly looped my arm around her leg to pin it to me so she couldn't keep kicking. "Hey!" she said, laughing and trying to pull it away from me. But I kept a good grip on it till I finished the fight. Her pajamas were soft and warm where they brushed against my face as she struggled.

Fight done, I let her go and leaned back. She kicked me a few more times, then started playfully pushing my head to the side."That's mean. Don't pick on me - I'll tell dad."

"You're the one picking on me, bug," I pointed out. I started the next level, doing my best to ignore her.

She leaned down and tried to grab the controller. "Let me play."

I usually ignored her when she was provoking me, but this was unusual for her. She wasn't normally this playful or physical. But for whatever reason she was grinning and seemed to be having fun. Considering how depressed she usually seemed after a date night I figured I should play along.

So I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down over my lap till she was flat on her back on the floor.

She gave a startled squeal and started outright wrestling with me. I pretended to nonchalantly play my game as I pinned her kicking legs on my lap. From the floor she was laughing and pulling at my arm, trying to drag herself upright. Then her foot landed a lucky hit and the controller flew out of my hands across the room.

"Oh,

now

you're getting it!" I said, turning and pushing down on her till I had her wrists pinned to the floor. The bag got pushed out of the way till it was just me on top of her on the carpet. I was grinning at her because she was still laughing, but I also made sure to not press my body down into her. She wasn't nearly strong enough to move me on her own and ... well ... I was getting a little excited and I didn't want this to become weird. I braced my knee on the floor between her legs so that I was holding myself up just out of contact with her.

"Say you're sorry and I'll let you go."

"No!" she laughed, and she wrapped both of her legs around my knee, pulling herself tightly to it. She started pushing her hips against it, trying to move me.

"Come on," I said, aware but choosing to ignore that she was actually pressing her crotch into my leg. "You're not getting up till I let you."

She kept pushing and gradually her laughter stopped. Still grinning though, she said, "Shut up." I reflexively lowered my leg into her thrusting hips. She ducked her head to break eye contact and started obviously grinding into my thigh, no longer struggling to pull her hands free.

This was fast becoming something far different than wrestling. I could feel myself starting to get hard. I held completely still, expecting her to stop. But she just kept grinding harder. Her legs were wrapped tightly around my leg and the crotch of her soft pajamas was sliding up and down my thigh. Her shirt had pushed up a bit so her belly button was exposed, and I could feel her breathing getting deeper.

I let go of her wrists and started to pull back. But she grabbed me around the waist and held me to her as she very obviously humped my leg. "Mercy...." I started to say. She interrupted me, saying softly, "I said 'shut up'." Her voice was husky. She kept trying to twist to get her own leg to press into my crotch, and by now there was plenty there for her to feel.

I probably should have gotten up at this point. But the truth is I was pretty horny myself. None of the girls I knew from high school were around and I didn't have time to meet anyone else. I'd been jacking off every day in the shower because it was the only place I had privacy but that was hardly enough.

So I let my weight drop onto her. I was wearing a pair of knee-length sweatshorts, and the soft material did little to disguise the long ridge of my erection. With my thigh pressing her down against the floor, her own leg pushed up into my hard-on and began rubbing it. She let out a quiet moan and pressed her face into my shirt.

We lay there grinding our bodies into each other like that for several minutes. It didn't take long before I was also breathing hard. I slid my leg up and down against her and she made little squeaks of pleasure. All the while she kept rubbing her leg up into my dick. I could feel my underwear getting wet from the precum.

She started moaning and thrusting faster. I looked down at her, brushing her dark curls with my nose. Her hands reached down from my waist to grab my ass, pulling me hard into her. Then she started shaking, and I realized with shock that she was having an orgasm.

It was all too much. I started thrusting uncontrollably as I came in my sweats. For a long, glorious, pleasure-filled minute we got off together as we urgently clung to each other on the floor of my bedroom.

By the time my orgasm passed, I was dripping sweat onto her. I could feel the large sticky pool of my cum spreading down my thigh under my shorts. My bare knee was soaking wet from where she came all over it. Her pajama bottoms had to be just as soaked as my sweats were.

She wouldn't make eye contact, and after a few moments she started pushing me away, saying, "Off ... off ..." I quickly got up on my knees and she worked her way up to a sitting position, then used the desk to climb to her feet. As I suspected, her pajamas were soaked and I was blasted with the intoxicating smell of her sex. Walking shakily and not looking at me, she strode quickly across the room. She went directly into the bathroom across the hall and closed the door behind her.

Now that I could think clearly I was abashed at what I'd done. We'd both obviously been into it, but I'd just humped my sister till we both came. This had the potential to make the rest of the summer

much

more awkward. I got up and walked over to the bathroom door. The shower was running, and I hesitantly knocked and said, "Uh ... you okay?"

"I'm fine," she shot back immediately.

I licked my lips. "I just ... uh, that was ..."

"Don't talk to me when I'm taking a shower, dweeb. Go away."

Not quite believing things were okay, but unable to do anything else, I went back to my room and changed. Those sweat shorts and boxers I wrapped up in a towel in my hamper, making a note to be sure and do that load of laundry myself rather than let mom do it.

Mercy spent the full hour in the bathroom - shower, blow dryer and everything. It was getting really warm in my room and normally I'd head down to the basement at this time of day to watch TV where it was cooler, but I felt I should stay available if she wanted to talk. When she emerged in her robe she just walked straight to her room and shut the door behind her.

So I went downstairs. I didn't see her again until we all sat down for dinner. Mom asked what she'd been doing and she said she made plans to meet up with her friends that night. I tried not to make eye contact or talk directly to her, but if she was feeling awkward I couldn't see any sign of it. No one would suspect we'd been humping each other just a few hours ago.

I went to work that night feeling tentatively relieved. It looked like this would be a one time thing that we could just forget about. I counted myself lucky.

Everything was normal until three days later. Mercy had been out with her friends all morning but came home for lunch. I had a grilled cheese sandwich and then went to my room to play some more games before it got to the worst of the afternoon heat. Sitting on my bag chair, I watched her walk by to her room out of the corner of my eye.

A few minutes later she wandered back, stopping in my doorway.

"Hey, dweeb."

I got a lump in my throat and my heart gave a jump. I stared at the screen and tried to remain nonchalant as I answered, "Sup, bug?"

She sauntered into the room. This was the first time she'd been there since we'd gotten each other off. She was barefoot and had on a pair of tight yellow shorts and a short-sleeved top with white and red stripes. She looked about nervously for a minute, and I prepared for her to back out at any moment.

Then she reached down and gently pushed my head to the side. "You still suck at that game," she said. I was trying to formulate a response when she abruptly stepped in front of me and then plopped down on my lap.

For a moment I froze, stunned. Then I lifted the controller up over her head till I was holding it in front of her. She nestled back between my spread legs, gradually working her ass into contact with my crotch.

For a few minutes we sat like that. I kept making more and more mistakes as she gently pressed back into my growing erection. Eventually she made a point to keep moving her head to where she'd block my view of the screen.

"You keep doing that and I'm going to pin you down again," I said softly. My heart was racing by now. I could smell the scent of her shampoo and feel her whole body leaning back into me.

"Go ahead," she replied quietly.

I dropped the controller and wrapped my hands around her waist. Then I abruptly pushed her forward, making sure to break our fall with my hands. I landed on top of her, pressing her face-first into the floor. She shrieked and giggled, wiggling delightfully below me.

I was as horny as I could ever remember being in my life. There didn't seem to be any reason to keep up a pretense of wrestling, so I began forcefully thrusting my pelvis into her ass. Pressing her to the floor on each push, my erection quickly grew to full size. It nestled into the cleft at the bottom of her buttocks and I ground it into her.

She was pushing back into me on each thrust. Her giggling quickly stopped, to be replaced by moans. I spent a minute or two working myself up to the edge only to pull back, not wanting to get off too quickly. By then she was panting under me, her eyes closed and her hips reflexively thrusting in time with mine.

I was pretty sure by now that she was fine with this, but I still harbored some doubts. So in order to give her some more control I rolled onto my back and pulled her on top of me. In a moment she was straddling me as I lay on the floor. Her face was flushed and her eyes wide. Her shirt had been pushed all askew and I caught a glimpse of her bra before it fell back down.

I was ready for her to pull away now if she wanted to, but she immediately began grinding into me with a furious energy. I groaned as she rubbed her crotch into the clear outline of my hard cock. She kept trying to push down harder, so I grabbed her ass and pulled her down into me. With that she flopped forward till her face hit my shoulder and moaned loudly as she humped me.

I came in moments, growling into her ear. I could smell my cum and feel it getting squeezed and spread around by Mercy's frantic thrusting. As my orgasm passed she muttered, "Almost there ... a little more ... " Then she was cumming on top of me, crying out wordlessly as I pulled her spasming body hard into my wet shorts.

I helped her ride me all through her orgasm, getting hard again at the way she trembled and the sound of her moans. Eventually she drifted to a stop, relaxing her body on top of mine and breathing heavily.

She lifted her head after a moment and looked at me. Impulsively, I started to lean forward to kiss her, but she turned her head and said, "Uh-uh." Then she was climbing up off of me. She paused when she was standing over me and looked down to examine her shorts. They were visibly darker where they had become wet from her climax. Without another word, she walked unsteadily out the door and back to her room.

Over the next week or so, I started to develop a set of mental rules to govern this new relationship between Mercy and I.

The first rule of humping my sister was don't talk about humping my sister. I tried to discuss what we were doing a couple of times but she always shut the conversation down and walked away.

The second rule was no kissing. That seemed clear from her reaction after our second dry humping session.

The third rule was that only Mercy gets to initiate. I added this one after I tried to start something myself. She was in her room laying on her bed listening to music when I casually sauntered in saying, "Hey bug," and reached down to run my hand over her head. She was abruptly

very

angry and practically chased me out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

Clear enough. After that I went back to my room and laid back on my bed, feeling guilty and very horny. Then about fifteen minutes later she suddenly walked in. Without a word, she laid down on the bed with her back to me, then reached back to pull my arm till I was spooning her. Then she ground her ass back into me with a grunt. That led to rule four - Mercy can change her mind.