The Sister Dares: the Vegas Memorial

"You DARE me to turn you down?" I asked, laughing. "What makes you think you've got what it takes to be a Talent Associates Rep?"

"Only 200 million in annual contract revenues for a list of 35 of the most attractive clients in athletics and entertainment," she replied calmly, her red nails tracing the line where her breasts threatened to overflow her blouse.

I stood there and pondered her list of assets. Lana Morganthal was a bombshell in every surgically and chemically enhanced way possible. Curves compounded into curves. She was very attractive.

She had become a widow the night before when her husband Larry had died suddenly while ringside at a championship boxing bout in Las Vegas. Gorgeous, smart, talented, young and a widow. In another life, she would make some Greek shipping magnate the perfect mid-life crisis mate. Instead she was contemplating working for me.

Her recently deceased husband was my former mentor at Talent Associates. When he had left, I was his hand-picked successor. Even though Larry's death was sudden, it was also expected. Overdue in fact. He was considerably older than his fourth wife, and he had been in and out of hospitals and clinics for almost two decades. Their marriage was more an alliance of business partners. Lana was more than attractive, her most compelling asset was her shrewd mind and keen business sense. She used all of the weapons she had at her disposal to attract and retain clients, including her ample sexuality. Once she got her foot or her tits in the door, her clients found that they had zealous representation from Larry and Lana. They didn't have many clients, but they did have quality clients.

"I guess I can take you on as an intern....." I eyed her for a reaction.

"I might be interested," she responded coyly. "If I get to work late hours with you in a mentor-pupil relationship where you take a little extra time to teach me the ropes. Personally." She moved across the marble floor of foyer and rested her palm on my arm, slowly walking those long red nails up my sleeve, game to continue the charade. I broke first.

"Seriously, Talent Associates would be honored to have you come aboard. We will be glad to create a division just for you to head. How about Vice-president of Cross Market Operations with an instant partnership? You can stay in Las Vegas if you'd like, or move to LA, New York, Miami, Bern, or Melbourne. You keep your current book, we will bill you for the appropriate support, and the new business you generate will be prorated at the partnership rate. We'll help you staff up, certainly."

"That's too generous, David," she protested weakly, clearly pleased.

"We want you and we will do anything to get you," I said as straightforward and honestly as possible.

"Anything?" she asked again, clearly playing the coquette again.

"Anything at all," I replied, not inflecting any innuendo.

"I will think about your offer until after the funeral. Then we can talk more." She brought us back to the real reason I was in Las Vegas. Larry Morganthal was dead. "There is one thing that you can do to show you are earnest."

"Name it."

"Convince your sister to be my assistant." Until now I had overlooked Becky's presence in Lana's suite high above the Las Vegas Strip. She had come with me to Las Vegas only because I couldn't manage to fly her home first. She looked business sexy in her custom gray suit with sheer cream blouse and white bustierre. Even in the presence of Lana, Becky could make a few men turn their heads and take note. She didn't need chemicals and plastics to look gorgeous.

"Becky isn't in the business Lana. She and I were having dinner in Seattle last night when I got the news."

"If I am not mistaken, David, Becky is looking for a reason to change her locale. I am going to guess that she is either recently divorced or in the process of getting divorced. Am I right?" she asked Becky. Becky slowly nodded.

"Then this is the perfect time to start a new project. We can support each other, since we each lost someone close to us. What do you say, Becky? Want to give it a go?"

Becky gave it a long thought and then declined. "I am honored, Mrs. Morganthal, I really am. But I don't know the first thing about David's business. My girls are in college or just starting and this might not be the best time for me to be starting something new."

"This is the perfect time. You are really and empty nester now. Experience is over rated. When I started working for Larry, I didn't know a contract from a contact. Now look at me. I'll make you a deal, you work with me for say.....thirty days. If you don't like it, we part as friends. If you do, I'll pay you what the top assistant at TA makes and put a down payment on your new house here in Las Vegas. It's the cheapest airport in the country to fly in an out of, and I imagine we will have unlimited use of a corporate jet anyway. Seeing your daughters will be easy."

Becky looked at me and I gave her the 'It's your choice' look in return.

"OK, then. I accept."

"Good, that's settled. I do have a few things I'd like to discuss with you right away. I am sure David will excuse us while we talk girl talk, won't you David?" She didn't wait for my answer. I was becoming superfluous to her world for the moment. She took Becky by the hand and led her deeper into the suite, leaving me to fend for myself. I took the opportunity to call the office and relay the good news. I also put some operations into motion.

The next four days were busy for me and my staff. We took the charge arranging for the sports and entertainment worlds to collide for this monumental occasion of remembrance. You will notice I didn't say somber, Larry wasn't like that. Becky and Lana were nearly inseperable. On the first day Becky's girls and my wife and two youngest daughters joined us. We buried Larry that day, according to Jewish custom. His burial ceremony was private and traditional, with a rabbi calling the shots. Then we went to work putting together his public funeral.

On the second day a handful of my best assistants and my top assistant, Janet, arrived. The business took up residence in a suite down the hall and my and Becky's family took a suite adjacent to Lana's. The MGM installed multiple phone lines, fax and computer services, and staffed us with a team of secretaries and a concierge. The concierge was particularly helpful at arranging air travel, ground transportation, lodging, dining and floral requirements. This would be more a event than a funeral.

On the third day everyone in show business and everyone in professional sports descended on Las Vegas for the biggest event of the decade. All the major networks, including the news and sports channels would be represented. The Wall Street Journal, Vogue, Sports Illustrated, the London Times, and the BBC were also on site. Every hotel in town was booked to capacity. The really high rollers, the megastars and mega athletes stayed in private residences, either their own or owned by friends of friends.

The commissioners of football and baseball spoke at the memorial, as well as several clients, the player's union chiefs, and Larry's rabbi. We had to turn down requests made by politicians and talking heads to speak. The dais was already overflowing. Nobody wanted to miss this platinum opportunity to be the center of the known universe. The memorial took seven hours with three intermissions. Bob Costas, Al Michaels, and Chris Berman hosted. No one left early.

The entire event was held at the MGM Grand Pavilion, the same place Larry had passed away. It no longer looked like a boxing venue, it looked like a cathedral, complete with a choir balcony, twin pulpits, and seating for several thousand on plush chairs. A lot of this was just show for the guests.

During the process I noticed a few surreptitious glances between Becky and Lana, almost like a conspiracy was underfoot. I also received a few looks of passion from Becky and once I imagined a look of lust in Lana's eyes. Wishful thinking, I thought to myself.

We spent a good deal of time together, Becky's family and mine. All of our evenings were spent together, enjoying the fantastic dining and superb entertainment that Las Vegas had to offer. My wife Karen and my sister Becky were friends before Karen and I met. They were still friends as well as sisters-in-law. It only felt a little strange that I had just spent an evening of passion with my sister, but I loved them both so much it was only a little strange. Karen and I were having great sex in Vegas. The change in venue was beneficial to our mutual attraction and sex drive. We had sex in the shower, standing. We had sex in the bed. We had sex overlooking the Strip. It was like our first years all over again. Twice Becky and I had hot quick liaisons as well.

The first liaison that my sister and I shared was on the third day. Karen had taken all of the girls, both Becky's and ours, shopping and sightseeing. Becky and I were down the hall in the company suite working. When I needed some paperwork from one of the files in our personal suite, Becky offered to get them for me. She left to retrieve them. A few minutes later she called me and asked me to come help her find them. I went down the hall to our gigantic penthouse suite atop the hotel. When I entered the rooms and rounded the corner, there stood my sister in a white lace baby doll nightie.

"What do you think?" She twirled to give me a good look.

"I think you look fantastic. But it's not appropriate business attire," I responded while grabbing her waist and pulling her close for a kiss.

"Then we'd better hurry so I can change back," she answered, nearly breathless from our kiss. She dropped to her knees at my feet. She reached up and grabbed my zipper, pulling it down in one smooth motion. My cock, though tired from the wake-up sex that Karen and I had before breakfast, was being cooperative. When Becky's long thin fingers wrapped around my shaft, the coolness of her skin was a blessed relief and stimulant at the same time. She stroked it slowly, letting the head of my cock strike her lips and cheeks. She stuck out just the tip of her tongue and without moving her head, she licked me all over the bottom of my cock head, rubbing it to and fro. All the while she stared into my eyes. Her gaze was one of contented love and perfect trust. It was a love I felt comfortable returning in kind. Her trust in me would never be broken.

Without warning she opened her mouth wide and swallowed half the length of my member into her mouth. Trust was replaced by lust in her eyes. She forced her face down toward my crotch, opening her throat far enough to take me entire cock in. I felt my hips thrusting forward, involuntarily. I was fucking her throat and she was fucking her face with my cock. I grabbed her dark curls with both hands and held her face against the skin on my stomach, trying to make her stop so I didn't come too quickly. She milked my cock with her throat and it was nearly too much. I pulled my dick from her mouth and stepped back. She looked at me like a tigress plays with a lamb.

"Enough!" I said sternly. "If you are going to be bad, you are going to be punished."

I took control of the situation and scooped her up off the floor and perched her on the back of a long leather sofa. Now it was my turn to kneel at the alter of her sex and take communion from her holy river. I knelt and drove my face into her crotch, rubbing my nose against her clit, breathing deeply from her damp musk and trying to sink my teeth into her labial lips through the satin of her panties. She gripped the sides of my head, opened her thighs and pushed her heels into my back, driving my face deeper. She tried to stuff my head into her pussy. I grabbed both sides of her panties and pulled them away from her hips until they tore asunder. I grabbed the now useless loin cloth and pulled it away with my teeth. That left her sex exposed and swollen for my pleasure. And hers.

I drove my tongue deep into her slit and was rewarded with a gush of fluid escaping from deep inside. I let my tongue circle her clit, only occasionally allowing it to have contact. I sucked each side of her pussy into my mouth and pulled my head back until it was slowly pulled out. Back into her channel I drove my tongue and Becky responded by giving me a face full of her juices. I allowed my hands to roam her chest, rubbing her breasts and lightly pinching her nipples. I lifted her nightie and she took that as a cue to remove it completely. She tilted her head forward and her long brown curls tickled her breasts and my face at the same time. I kept driving my tongue into her pussy. She pulled my head tighter into her crotch, moaning and writhing. She pitched her head forward as she came, tossing her hair from side to side, writhing in exquisite agony.

Before her climax had fully subsided I stood up and pressed my cock head into the place my tongue had excited. With a smooth firm stroke I entered her until I could feel my balls being supported by the curvature of her upturned ass. Her swollen pussy lips throbbed down the length of my shaft. I pulled her legs up until her ankles rested on my shoulders.

I could feel her pussy gripping and contracting. It only took a few rough strokes and I was back on the precipice, ready to climax. I trapped her thighs with my arms and pulled hard, pushing my cock even deeper as I unloaded into my semen into my sister. Over and over my cock pumped trying to expel semen my balls hadn't even manufactured yet. When my cock twitched her cunt responded. It was milking me for every drop.

Our sex fluids were running out of the bottom of her slit and down her ass crack and onto the leather couch. I finally allowed her to lower her legs down off my shoulders, but I refused to take my semi-hard cock out of her sex. It was hot and warm and slick. I worked my partially hard member in and out for a few strokes until my cock responded, albeit in protest.

I knew that coming again was against the rules for a middle aged man such as myself, but I thought I would give it a shot anyway. In a few strokes I realized the folly of my action. My knees and back were protesting and I pulled out, gently.

"I didn't think so," snickered Becky, gingerly regaining her feet. "If you could come again after such a fucking, I would have been amazed."

I laughed too. Even Viagra wasn't going to help in this situation. A sandwich and a nap might, but that was about it. I slowly got myself redressed and walked to the nearest bathroom. I wiped the combined come from my dick and put it away. My sister pushed in behind me and sat ingloriously on the commode, letting out a rush of urine and cum. Even in this post coital disarray, she was beautiful. While she sat there I leaned over and kissed her deeply, letting my hand caress her neck. When our lips parted she broke wind and giggled.

"Sorry. I had to do it. At least I didn't fart while you were kissing me."

She was laughing as she took paper from the roll and folded it neatly until she had enough to do the dabbing of her damp cunny. I left the bathroom and I could hear her flush and wash her hands. She went back to her part of our shared suite. When she returned to the large living room, she had almost finished getting dressed. When she sat down my gaze naturally looked at her beautiful legs, following them up to her pantiless crotch.

Thinking about her going bare down there made my cock stir. I had an idea.

"If you are going commando, I think you should do a little gardening." The mischievous gleam in my eye must have touched her adventurous nature.

"You do it then," she said immediately.

I took her hand and led her back into the hallway that led to her bedrooms and where her personal bathroom was. I lifted her skirt and propped her butt up onto the counter.

"Hey!" she protested. "That's COLD!"

I allowed her to stand up and I placed a soft towel on the marble counter for her sit on. I left her only for a moment to go into my room and get my hair trimmer. I crouched down between her legs and began clearing away her curly brown pussy hair. I worked from the outside in until the whole matted mess fell away like a bird's nest. I grabbed the ball of hair and held it up to her face. "Maybe I should keep this as a souvenir, like the Indians keep scalps."

"Careful there, big brother," she cautioned. "You never know that I might want to keep as a souvenir of yours in return."

I smiled and reached for a new razor and the shaving gel. I rubbed the stubble between her thighs with the gel and got a moan in return. I carefully shaved every nook and cranny. I made her hold her legs high and wide while I shaved around her winking anal flower. When I finished I took a washcloth and gave her a complete spongebath, making sure that no hairs had escaped my razor. I gently blew on her moistened slit and she giggled in return.

"Stop David. That tickles."

She kicked her legs over my head and hopped off the counter, smoothing her skirt in the process. She turned around and touched up the little makeup she wore and passed a long-toothed hair pick through a couple of imagined trouble spots in her curly brown hair.

"I guess I should get back. Lana is probably looking for me." We both knew this was a lie, but if we didn't separate soon, we would be in danger of my wife and our respective kids barging in and finding us in this compromised position. It's tough to deny you are having an incestual affair with your sister if you are caught red handed.

The second time we had a sexual congress was after the memorial service. Long after. I had spent the evening chatting with current and future clients. Several were Lana and Larry's clients and I made myself useful by welcoming them to the Talent Associates family. I also spent time getting business done with several team owners and general managers. Finally I had to work the advertisers that had an interest in one client or another to endorse their product.

By the time I could make my excuses and head back to our private family penthouse, I was exhausted and it was three a.m. Karen had long since went to bed and I made myself a gin and cranberry juice, eager to begin the healing process I knew was coming. The night's indulgences were going to be hard on me in the morning.

I found the remote and turned on the giant screen TV, knowing that Sports Center was about to repeat it's earlier broadcast which featured a good deal of coverage from the memorial service. I was about to sit down on the same leather couch my sister and I had defiled earlier when I realized it was already occupied. There was my sister, sound asleep. Her lower body was lightly covered by a hotel robe. Her stomach and chest were uncovered and inviting. Her firm breasts threatened to escape over the top of her satin nightgown. Even exhausted I could feel the stirring from deep in my loins. My balls tightened in anticipation and I found myself breathing a little shallow.

My wife was sleeping less than a hundred feet away and still I was compelled to linger over my sister's inviting supine form. I took a sip of my cocktail and contemplated my options. The entire Las Vegas strip was twinkling outside my windows. My ears were ringing from the noise of the evening. My feet hurt. My head was beginning to hurt. I took another sip. My cock didn't care about sore feet or sore temples or ringing ears. At 3:00 a.m., my cock decided it was time to play.

I pushed the low table in front of the couch away and knelt by Becky. I leaned forward and began to kiss her breasts, lightly brushing her hair out of the way. She responded by rolling away from me on the couch until only her back was visible. Snubbed.

I took another pull from my gin and cranberry and perused my options. I decided to pursue the matter anyway. I slowly pulled the robe covering her legs and hips away. Her night gown only reached to the bottom of her panties. Barely. I could see the lines of her newly shaved pussy pressing against her panties. I rubbed the crevice in the center with my middle finger. Becky swayed her hips in response, the beginnings of her arousal.