The Bastard

"Are sure you want this to happen?"

"I don't want it to happen. I don't NOT want it to happen. I want to stop worrying about whether it happens. Why? Don't you want it?"

"I'd be lying if I said it wouldn't make me happy, as long as you want it too."

"I guess I'm saying is that if it doesn't happen, I want it to be because it just doesn't, and not because of what people will think if it does."

"That's what I want too." Bill stroked my cheek.

"I love you, Bill," I said. He put his arms around me. I tried to do the same to him, but his left arm was in the way of my right, and I accidentally put my hand on his crotch. I could feel it getting hard. He kissed me on the lips, and I lay back on the bed.

He climbed between my legs, and I could feel his cock through his underwear. "Is this the right time?" he asked.

"Didn't we just have this conversation?" I asked. I questioned whether we were really on the same page or not. "I told you, I'm not trying to make it happen. I just want things to come naturally like they do for everyone else."

"No, I get that. I mean, is it the right number of days since--"

"Oh, that!" My concern was allayed. "I don't know if it's the best time, but it's definitely not the worst." Bill lifted the hem of my night shirt a little, kissed my navel and looked up at me. I smiled. He lifted it some more, so I pushed him off and took it off. He laid me back down and kissed my left nipple. Instead of looking at him, I closed my eyes and smiled more. He kissed the other nipple and then licked it. He kissed me, and I felt his balls against my pussy through my underwear. I reached down between our crotches.

"So soon?" he asked.

"No, I just need to adjust the hem." I pulled it away from my flesh and felt the puffiness of one of my lips. At that moment his cock slipped out of his underwear and I felt the head. "On second thought, yeah, take it off!" I said. He got off me and we both removed the last of our clothing.

Bill moved back on top of me. I could feel his cock against my thigh, and he asked, "What'll we tell your mom?"

"There's nothing to tell her, yet."

"I mean if it happens."

"It'll break my heart, but I'll tell her I don't know who the father is. That's the only regret I'd have."

Bill is my younger brother. Well, half-brother. My dad had a one-night stand with a woman named Mona at a convention, and Bill was the result. I didn't know about him until I was ten. Neither of my parents would have found out, but when he was seven, he and his mom were in a car wreck, and she went into a coma. My parents raised us together for the next few years. When Mona died, Dad wanted to keep all of us together, but by then Mom couldn't take the daily reminder of the affair, so they divorced. Some smart-asses say that money can't buy happiness, but it can make the misery more tolerable, and I guess they're right. Dad did well enough that he could afford to buy another house only a couple counties away, and they turned into one of those ex-couples who got along better after a split.

I was finishing college and Bill was just starting when Dad got sick. Bill and I were the only ones who could care for him. After several months, I found that my favorite part of the shift was when Bill came home. He has the kind of sunny disposition that probably helped Dad make it another year, and it made it easier for me to get through it too. I started cooking meals for all three of us. One night when Dad was asleep, Bill was on his way out to his part-time job, and I kissed him. I only meant for it to be a sisterly kiss, but he turned and kissed me on the lips and I didn't want him to stop. When he came home that night, we went out on the porch and talked. We both knew it was more, but it would be a while before either of us thought about doing anything more than kissing.

I didn't have a job lined up when I graduated, so it made sense for me to move into their house. The night I moved my things in, after Dad went to sleep, Bill came into my room. We lay on my bed kissing, but nothing else happened. He did the same a couple nights later, and the night after that I came to his room. I surprised him on his next night off by not wearing a bra. He ran his hands up and down my back while we kissed, which felt better without a bra, but he was too nervous to do anything else.

I had to go out of town for an interview, so I wasn't home the next two nights. On the way home, I barely thought about Dad; I just wanted to see Bill again. When I came home in the middle of the day, Bill was at the door dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and pants. He hugged me, told me he missed me and felt my back, disappointed that I was fully dressed. My hands came down, and I accidentally felt his butt. He was returning my earlier favor by going commando! I wanted to take him to bed right then, but Dad called from his room. Later that night I took a shower, and I didn't put any kind of underwear on. After Dad went to sleep, I nodded to Bill and invited him into my room. "I missed you, too," I told him. I put my arms around him. He did the same, noting the lack of a bra there. I smiled and said, "Yeah."

I moved my hands to his butt, and he was dressed the same as before. "Yeah yourself," he said with a smile.

I moved his hands to my waist. He moved them to my butt and smiled more. "Yeah again," I told him. I guided him to my bed. We hugged and kissed and rubbed each other's bodies everywhere for what must have been fifteen minutes before I put my hand under the hem of his shorts. I didn't make contact with anything but the lowest part of his butt, but it made him hard. He ground his hips into mine. I moved my hips up once to meet his, but then my bed squeaked, and we both lay still. We kept rubbing each other, and I got hotter, and he got harder. Suddenly he arched his back, and when he came back down, he wasn't hard any more.

"Wow," he said. He got off me, and we could both see a wet spot on my shorts. "Sorry 'bout that, Vicki," he said.

"I'm not," I told him.

"Really?

Bill had his hands on the waistband and was starting to push before I could speak. "Whoa, whoa! Slow down there, cowboy."

He looked dejected. "Right. My sister."

"It's not that," I told him. "I definitely have un-sisterly feelings for you, and I'm not sorry I made you come, but this has all kinds of potential to go wrong. Go to bed and we'll see what happens another night."

I went to be and wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Forget that I'm his half-sister--I was 22 years old, and I was going crazy for a 19-year-old! I knew the age might be an issue from how quickly he started to take his pants off.

For six months, we made out whenever we could, but we always had to be careful because we didn't want Dad to see or hear us. On one particularly happy day, someone took Dad to a ball game to give us both an evening off. I had job applications to fill out, and Bill had homework. About two hours later, Bill came to my room. "I'm done with my homework. How are you doing?"

"Burned out," I told him. "I'll do more tomorrow." I noticed he was wearing his beach pants again. I looked up at him. "How are you?"

"See for yourself," he said.

I slid my hand up the leg and felt one of his balls. "Looks like someone wants to play," I said. I'd already changed into a night shirt that barely extended past my butt. I stood up and put his hand on my thigh. "Two someones, as it happens." He guided us to my bed and we lay down. Soon his pants were at his ankles and my shirt was halfway up my stomach. I started stroking his cock, and I told him, "Don't worry; I know you won't get it on my pants this time." It got bigger and harder in my hand, but never so thick that I couldn't hold it. When I could see his balls gathering up, I asked him, "Ready to come?" He nodded. I pushed him so we were both on our backs looking down. I wanted it to come back and land on either his chest or my night shirt, but I aimed very badly. Most of it landed on our legs, and a small bit of it ended up running down the crease between my thigh and my pussy. Knowing how close it had come to getting where it really, really shouldn't made me even hotter.

"Your turn," Bill said. He moved around and kissed my left thigh from the knee up to my crotch. He licked little circles around my pussy. I was looking forward to a long-awaited night of passion. He ran his tongue up and down the cleft between my pussy lips twice, and then we heard a car outside. Apparently Dad didn't have the energy to sit through a whole game. Bill pulled his pants up and I pulled my shirt back down, and we came down to get Dad to bed. The next night we decided we needed to dial it back again, but it didn't last.

I started a new job two days after Bill's birthday. Dad had given me money to get Bill a jacket that he knew Bill wanted, and I had saved enough to get him another pair of beach shorts. It was fall by now, but he liked to wear them on laundry day, and I liked guessing what he had on underneath. Bill went to his room immediately and put both articles on. He looked kind of silly in a heavy jacket and shorts, but he really liked them both, and we all laughed. Dad seemed surprised that Bill was happy to spend his birthday at home. We both knew that's not typical for 20-year-old guys. After Dad went to sleep, Bill stood outside my room. "I know you want to know," he said, and he put my hand on his thigh.

"And I know you want to know too," I said. I did the same, and he could feel that I didn't have anything on under my shorts either. "Happy birthday!" I nodded back to my bed. Bill joined me at the bed. I put my hands on his waistband. I tugged just a little and stopped to look at him.

"You sure?" he asked.

"For this I am," I told him. I pulled his pants down to his ankles. There it was, in all its erect, uncut glory, just as I'd remembered it.

"Take off your shirt, Vicki," he whispered. I let go of his cock and did as he asked. He leaned down and caressed my left breast.

"Sit down," I said. He did, and I sat next to him. I resumed stroking him. I went for a couple minutes to test him, and he didn't do anything that I could possibly construe as forcing my head down. "Have you ever gotten a blow job?" I asked him.

"No. I've only had one girlfriend, and she said no the only time I asked."

I got up and knelt in front of him. "Tonight you don't have to ask," I told him. I made myself salivate and licked around his head. I pulled the foreskin back. "Let's see, how old are you now?" I asked.

"20."

I kissed his head and then various random spots on his dick, counting up until I hit 10, when I took him in my mouth. I went up and down once for each year from 11 to 19. I could tell he was near the edge, so I took him in one more time and swirled my tongue around the shaft. When I let him go, I said, "20!" Then I cupped his balls and gently took one between my thumb and forefinger and added, "And a pinch to grow an inch. Not that you need it. You're a mouthful already!" I swung my hips around and continued to suck him. Thanks to this new arrangement, he could rub any part of my body that he wanted to. I didn't stop him when he put his hands under my shorts and rubbed my pussy directly. He was about to get his finger inside, but at that moment he announced he was coming. "I wanna see it again," I told him. I let him go, and we watched it splatter over the jacket that he'd taken off.

I retrieved a towel that I saw in his laundry basket in the corner. I knelt in front of the new jacket and started wiping Bill's cum off it. As I did, I could feel my shorts being tugged down. I lifted my right knee, and Bill pulled my shorts down to my shin. I switched knees, and soon my shorts were off. I felt him separating my legs and wondered what he had in mind. I felt his hair against both legs, and when I sat up to look down, he was under my pussy. "We didn't finish what we started the other night," he said. I got back on all fours. He tugged on my left pussy lip and sucked it into his mouth, then did the same with the right. He darted his tongue up and down the length of my pussy several times, occasionally grazing my clit. I gyrated my hips involuntarily, which created the same circles he'd been making before. On one of those circles, he got it dead center on my lips just as I lowered my hips, and his tongue went inside me. He reached up and put his hands on my butt cheeks to hold my pussy close to him. He couldn't get it in very far, but his moist tongue around my lips was the best thing I'd felt in a couple years, certainly better than my own fingers. To make it easier for him, I stopped rotating my hips and started bucking them. I don't know if he felt discouraged or just creative, but he moved his tongue to the upper part and added his index finger. The finger accomplished what his tongue couldn't. "You're getting puffy. Is that good?" he asked.

"It's great," I answered. Bill flipped me over and gave me a more conventional top-to-bottom cunt licking. I saw a picture of Dad on Bill's nightstand and suddenly remembered we weren't alone. I strained to whisper, "Make me come!" It only took a couple more swipes of his tongue before he did.

When we'd both recovered, Bill said, "Well, I guess I know what to get you for YOUR birthday."

Dad got a lot worse the next week, and he died within a month. One of the last things he said before we lost him was telling both of us, "Take care of each other," and we promised to. Bill didn't touch me for several weeks. When I asked him, he said blamed himself for Dad's death because he briefly had the thought that once it happened, we wouldn't have to sneak around. I assured him there wasn't any connection, although I started to wonder whether Dad had suspected what was going on. We didn't have another opportunity for a week after that.

Dad left the house to Bill and me, and we decided to keep living there together. We sold Dad's bed and bought a king-sized bed to share. Coincidentally, the bed arrived the same day that we finalized the transfer of the deed to our names. We put some nice sheets on the mattress, and then Bill went to his room to get ready for bed. He came back wearing a bath robe. I was under the covers. He opened the robe just enough that I couldn't see his dick, but I could see he was naked underneath. "You like?"

"I like," I said.

He pulled a small box of condoms out of the pocket and tossed it to me. If I had been worried about his maturity before, I wasn't any more. "Welcome home," he said.

I opened the box and tore one off at the perforation. "Same to you," I added. Now naked, Bill put the robe over the post on the headboard and lifted the covers. "Surprise!" I said. I was naked too. He climbed in next to me, put his arms around me and kissed me.

"I love you, Vicki," he said.

"I love you, too, Bill," I said, running my hand over his hip. We shared a long kiss while he stroked my pussy lips. I responded by moving my hips closer. He put his index finger and middle finger on either side of my inner labia and caressed the outer area. That made me want him even more. I pulled him closer to kiss him, and he moved his fingers out of the way. I could feel his cock against my leg. He was trying to hump me from the side. "Careful," I told him. "You're getting wet already."

He pulled back, and I reached up for a condom. I opened it and rolled it over his dick. It seemed more beautiful this time, and I realized it was because I was acknowledging that it belonged to the man I loved. "Now?" he asked meekly.

I rolled onto my back. "Now," I answered.

Bill crawled on top of me and slowly slid inside me. It dawned on me that the last time I'd had honest-to-goodness sex, I was only a little older than Bill was now. He was kissing my neck and moving his hips around, touching areas that hadn't been touched in years, and a few spots that had never been touched. After several minutes of exchanging "I love you, Vicki!" and "Oh, Bill!" I could sense that he was close. "Come inside me, honey!" I moaned.

"Really?" he asked. He stopped thrusting and started to pull out.

I pushed him back in, almost in a panic. "No, not that! I want you to come in the condom ... that's inside my cunt."

"Oh," he said. "You really had me going there." It took him a few seconds to get hard again, but soon I could feel his dick expand and contract as the semen pulsed through it. He let himself fall on top of me and panted. When he wasn't hard at all any more, he climbed off me and pulled the condom off. "That was great," he told me.

"It was," I agreed. "I never had a boyfriend who was willing to wait as long as we did."

"So I'm your boyfriend now?" Bill asked.

"We are what we are," was all I could answer. "I'm not saying I didn't love the other guys I've fucked, but ... they're not you, so I didn't love 'em the way I love you."

He said, "I love you, too." The way he said it, if he were a girl, he probably would have said a long, "Awwww," first.

"Put another one on," I told him. He did, and this time it was my turn to climb on top. I didn't just ride him like a cowboy; I think I was actually moving the way I've seen kids move when they pretend to ride a horse. My tits jiggled back and forth until Bill raised his head and took my right one in his mouth. When he started sucking on it, I ground my crotch into his even harder than before.

"Oh, God, oh, God," Bill moaned.

"Coming again so soon?" I asked between thrusts.

"Yeah!" he shouted.

I sat up straight and waited. "Hmmp," I said.

"Sorry, I thought I could hold back longer than that."

"No, that's not the problem," I explained. "When I said I wanted you to come inside me, and then I said I meant inside a condom? I was right the first time."

"Huh?"

"I really did want to feel it inside ME. I could see you tensing up, and when you moved your legs up, it gave me a really great sensation, but I wanted to actually feel you coming. More than that. I wanted to feel your cum!"

"Between a rock and a hard place, aren't we? 'Cause you wanna feel it inside you, but you probably don't wanna get pregnant any more than I want you to."

"I know what to do," I told him, and I got on all fours. "There's more than one place for me to feel it."

"Holy shit!" Bill exclaimed. "I've never been with a girl who--I've never even had the nerve to ask!"

"I've never done it either," I told him. "It'll be the first time for both of us." We had a little difficulty, since I was an anal virgin, but he was as gentle as I needed him to be, and his warm cum felt almost as good in my ass as it did the last time I'd let a guy come directly in my pussy. I lay down with my back to him and his arm around me, and we lay there for a while before Bill got up to turn the lights off.

When he came back to bed, he put his arm around me again. "Vicki?"

"Yeah?"

"All those times I shouted out how much I love you? Well, I wasn't just saying it 'cause we were fucking. I really do love you."

"I love you too, Bill." I could feel his hard dick against my butt, but we went to sleep. I would never sleep alone again.

A couple nights later I dreamed that I was sitting back on the couch while Bill ate my pussy. We were the same age in our dream as in real life, but Dad came home from work just like when we were kids. He was wearing a hat and coat like all the TV dads from the fifties and sixties. He wasn't mad at us, but he thought since I wasn't writhing and screaming Bill's name that Bill wasn't doing a good job. He said, "No, no, Son, you're doing it all wrong!" (Mind you, Dad had never worn a hat unless it was snowing, and he was never so formal as to call Bill "Son.") Now, if any woman but me were having a weird incest dream, her dad would probably tell the brother to step aside and do it himself. But my dad, being really dad-like, knelt on the floor next to Bill and told him, "Go like this, and this, ..." I couldn't see what he was showing Bill, but everything worked when Bill tried it. I spurted a load of cum on Bill's chin like a clown's joke flower. Then Bill wanted to fuck me in the ass, and he was having trouble getting inside me, so Dad got underneath us and guided Bill's dick into me. I don't remember whether my pussy actually turned into a flower when I came, but in the morning I wondered whether that was my brain's way of playing on the phrase "deflowering." I bought some lube on the way home from work the next day.