Feeling your little sister's body pressed up against you, you try to relax. Her pert little breasts rub into your stomach, as she snuggles her head against your chest.
You inhale deeply, taking a light scent of soap and another, slightly saltier odor, which you recognise as the smell of washed away tears. Your little sister has been crying for a long time, and despite her attempt to put on a brave face, you can tell that she is terribly upset.
"So, Amy," you begin, "What did he do?" You put your arms about her, awkwardly holding the champagne cup in one hand as you attempt to comfort her.
Amy rolls over, so she lies face up on top of you, looking towards the wall. Your arms, still wrapped around her, adjust to settle around her waist, briefly brushing against the material covering her luscious breasts. There is an immediate rush of blood to your cock, but fortunately your little sister doesn't seem to notice.
"How graphic do you want me to get?" Amy enquires, taking hold of your arms with her hands, and squeezing gently.
The champagne answers the question for you, as you blurt, "As graphic as you want, Amy."
She giggles at your answer, leaning her head back so she can just barely make out your face. She smiles broadly, takes a sip of champagne, and begins.
"So, there I am, sucking Brad's cock. Oh, he's my now ex-boyfriend by the way." You immediately blush at your little sister's bluntness, as she continues. "And anyway, He's getting ready to come, and he stops me. Next thing I know, he's unbuttoning my pants, and I'm like, 'Stop it', and he's like," her voice abruptly drops to what you think is an impression of her boyfriend, "'Come on baby, you know you want it'."
You nod, listening intently. Listening to your sister talk dirty is causing your cock to expand rapidly, but fortunately she's concentrating on telling the story. Her smell, her voice, everything about this girl is turning you on. "It's just the champagne," you tell yourself.
"And then, he's like," She mimicks Brad again, "'Look baby, It doesn't feel as good unless I'm inside you'. And then I say, 'How the fuck would you know asshole, since you've never been inside me?' And then he called me a tease, and told me I gave lousy blowjobs. Then he said that the only thing I needed was a good fuck, and I'd be a much better person."
You are amazed at the vitrol your little sister is relaying to you. If her boyfriend really said those things to her, she has reason to believe that all men are assholes. You hug her close to you, breathing deeply. The feeling of this incredibly sexy woman beneath you is delightful.
"You're a good person, Amy," you say, attempting to reassure her.
"Yeah, right." She groans, hugging your arms around herself. "You're only saying that because you're my brother. Nobody else thinks that."
"Who else thinks that you're a bad person?" you inquire, genuinely interested in the answer.
"Well, lets schee..." Amy temporarily steps up to refill your champagne cups, before lying back into your arms again. This time when she lies down and your arms come around her again, her breasts press into your arms. The feeling is very nice, and you realize that your little sister isn't wearing a bra. Her slim buttocks neatly sandwich your imprisoned cock, and you realize that she is either drunk or otherwise oblivious to not feel your raging hard-on.
"There's Brad, Ed, Mikey, Tom..." She continues, rattling off a list of about twenty names, all of which you recognise from various boyfriend conversations over the past few years. You realize that your little sister never put out for any of them, despite the fact that on the occasions you met one or two of them the seemed to be quite the hunk-type. "....aaaaaaand Bill," she finishes with a flourish. "And every single one of them said I was a frigid bitch who wouldn't put out because I'm scared of sex."
"Are you?" you reply.
"Am I what?" Amy asks, rolling her head against you.
"Scared of sex?" you complete the question with a raised eyebrow.
"NO!" She exclaims, "I am not scared of sex. Ask me how many blow-jobs I've given. Go ahead, ask!"
You chuckle, and her answering giggle makes you both feel wonderful. You're both having such a good time. Perhaps it's the champagne. The two of you drink deeply, sharing a healthy laugh in between sips.
"Okay, How many blow jobs... chuckle..." you can't finish the question and break into peals of laughter. Amy answers your laugh with one of her own. "... snicker... have you given?" you finish with a titter.
"Are we counting guys or times." Amy responds with a smirk. Leaning her head back, she runs her tounge around her lips, before sticking it directly out at you and blowing a rasberry.
"Let's start with guys, and then go to times." You affect a serious expression as you look back at her.
"So serious...." She pouts. "Eighteen guys, one hundred and fourty-three blowjobs. Think that's gross?" She smiles, rubbing her back against you.
"Naaah, you'd need one more blowjob to make it one gross," you smirk, using an archaic measuring unit to make a vile pun. She gets the joke and hits you on the arm.
"Jerk." She crosses her arms under yours, inadvertently pressing your arms up, so they lie fully across her breasts. You feel bumps in her sweater as your arms move across it, and you realize that her nipples are erect. This sex talk is getting your sister hot. You are getting horny as well, with your pulsing erection pressing against your sister's backside.
There is an awkward silence as you both realize exactly how aroused you are getting. Amy licks her lips softly, breathing in and out. You too are not moving, just feeling the beautiful girl lying on top of you. |