My head was propped up on one hand while my other hand caressed her bare belly and my eyes etched the curves of her thinly-clad breasts into my memory.
"Yes, Mom," she said into the cell phone she was holding as she lay beside me on her bed. "I'll let him know... No, don't worry about us. We'll be okay. Okay, Mom, bye."
She closed the small flip-style phone and sighed with relief. "Mom's flight was cancelled and the next two flights are fully booked, but she's on standby. If she can't get on either of those flights, then she should be home shortly after Midnight."
"Ugh. That's why I'm glad I don't have a job which requires me to travel so much," I responded.
"Exactly. That's why I'd rather stay in college for the rest of my life."
My little sister had a point. Actually, she had a pair of points, just slightly tenting the cups of her bikini bra, and I let my hand glide up toward her chest and onto a breast so my thumb could brush back and forth across a nipple.
She rolled away for a moment to set the cell phone on the bedside table, directly next to the small lamp, then returned to her prone position. "You just like me for my body," she stated with a wink.
"No, but your body is a nice fringe benefit," I countered. We shared a smile as I repositioned myself so that she could feel the growth within my swim trunks, lengthening against her side.
"It's been what now... three years?" she asked, wrapping an arm around me.
"Just about that long," I confirmed. "The summer before you started at college."
"Yeah, and you were home for a week during your summer camp break for July 4 Week." My sister reached for my hand and moved it to her other breast, then helped my hand to close gently, squeezing, kneading, making her smile again.
"What do you remember most about our first time?" I asked.
She thought for a moment. "How gentle you were with me," she replied. "It was sweet, really like I'd always hoped it would be when I had sex with someone. You didn't hurry, you took your time, you really seemed to make sure that I was enjoying it, even though it was a rather spontaneous thing for us. And when I finally felt you cum in me, it was... It was pure heaven, like I was made for you, like I was supposed to feel that again and again. But what about you? What do you remember most?"
I did not need to think about it - there was no hesitation whatsoever. "Hearing you call my name just before your first orgasm."
She giggled. "Yeah, I suppose hearing your sister calling your name at a time like that would be rather memorable."
I silenced her with a lingering, very familiar kiss as I squeezed her breast once more. I took her breath into me, then pushed it back into her lungs, something which we both enjoyed, for it allowed us to share a significant part of ourselves without needing to fuse our bodies together - quite important given that typically, we only had a few short minutes to spend alone, either when I visited home at the same time she did, or when I dropped by campus and we went up to her dorm room (and hoped that her roommate was gone).
Finally, I lifted my head away, moving my hand back down to her stomach. The tiger-print bikini was quite fitting, for my sister could indeed be a tigress in bed. There were times when she had taken the lead, riding me fast and hard, biting her lower lip in an effort to keep herself from screaming. There were other times when I had taken her from behind so that she could purposely bury her face in a pillow to muffle her screams as she backed wildly into me and clawed viciously at the bedding.
But this was not to be an animalistic time. "Be gentle with me?" she asked softly, even though we were the only humans in the house. If anything, the old cat might meander into the bedroom and look up at us.
I smiled at my little sister. "What if I want to just throw you to the floor, tear off that bikini, and fuck you like an animal?" I challenged her.
She grinned. "There's a time for that, but right now, what I'd really like is something more like our first time..."
She had not been my first, nor had I been her first, but we both admitted afterward that our first time together had been the most endearing sexual experience to date for each of us. Yes, I had actually loved two of the women I had had sex with in college, but there was something completely different about having slow, gentle, respectful sex with my own sister. Perhaps it was the fact that I had already known her for nearly nineteen years. Maybe there was something about having watched her slowly grow and transform into a beautiful young woman whose heart had never changed except to enlarge with her love for me.
Perhaps it was the illicitness which caused our secretive relationship to transcend the norms of society. We were by no means exclusive to each other, but I rarely dated other women, and even though my sister enjoyed the party atmosphere at her college on the weekends, she rarely ever let any other guy touch her beyond some dirty dancing and almost never let any other guy get underneath her clothes or even inside her.
"Please be gentle..." she requested again. "The last guy just... Well, it wasn't very much fun - for me, at least."
I kissed her cheek. "I'll be gentle, sis," I promised her, "just like the first time."
We shared a smile and a long, intimate gaze. My hand moved to her side then up her outer rib cage and up onto a breast, squeezing once again. Her eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled a little louder than usual, her back instinctively arching and pressing more of her breast into my hand. Unlike our first time, when I kept trying different things and watching and listening to her reactions to guess what she liked best, I already knew what appealed to her most, and as I felt the nipple poking my palm more insistently, I knew that breast play was still the key to arousing her quickly.
For a long time, I simply touched her, focusing primarily on her thinly-clad chest. Occasionally, I kissed her cheek or her forehead, and once I briefly kissed her lips, but mostly I simply touched her, caressing her, fondling her, adoring her, recommitting her body to my tactile memory. It was slightly amusing to watch as her thighs slowly slid against each other, and definitely arousing for me to watch her writhing beside me... because of me.
Her hair was still damp from our earlier swim together in the river beyond the fence at the back of the property. I was absolutely certain that there was some wetness elsewhere, wetness which I could not yet see or feel. But that would soon change, for I longed to taste my sister again, to drink from her as her passion flowed unabated.
As I touched her, she touched me, reaching between us and fondling me through my swim trunks. It had been a while since our last intimate moments together. After the end of the semester, between her final exam and graduation, my sister had come to visit me for a few days, returning to campus to watch a few friends graduate before heading home for the summer. In those few days, I had worked during the day and had enjoyed my sister's accepting body in the evenings. In the intervening seven weeks, I had looked eagerly forward to this moment, when I would be visiting the family home again for a few days while she was there, hoping for a little time when she and I could be truly alone in the house while our parents were both at work.
Fortunately, our parents were on separate business trips, our father having left that morning, giving us a lot more time alone than I had hoped, and I was definitely planning to make maximum use of that time.
...as was my sister, given how she was gently groping me. Sometimes she would press her fingertips along part of my heavy length, squeezing gently. Sometimes she would cup me, her fingers curled around my testicles and my manhood squeezed against her palm. Sometimes she would simply caress me, her touch light unless I purposely rubbed myself against her hand.