Daddy wasn’t doing very well. I went to visit him over my college summer break. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked haggard when he picked me up at the airport. He appeared much older than his forty-two years, flecks of gray salted his pepper colored hair. He was thinner than I remembered. I noticed he needed a shave as he greeted me with a half-grin and a peck on my cheek.
He said, “You’ve really filled out Haley since the last time I saw you. You were all knees and elbows, now look at you. You’re a full grown woman.”
With a smart-alecky attitude I shot back, “Now I’m all tits and ass.”
I was only 5’2″ so my curves were more accented on my small frame. I teased him with a little shimmy that made my big breasts sway back and forth under my blouse.
“I was sixteen then, Daddy, I’m nineteen now. You bet I’ve filled out in the past three years, 38-27-34 with a D-cup.”
Blushing he quickly changed the subject, “How was school?”
“Great, I aced my psychology final.”
After fetching my luggage from the baggage carousel Daddy led me to a yellow taxi cab parked just outside the terminal. He slipped the waiting skycap a tip and opened the back door for me. Daddy slammed the door after me and got behind the steering wheel.
I was agape as Daddy pulled away from the curb and into traffic. I checked out the Taxi License that hung from beneath the rearview mirror to ensure I wasn’t dreaming. It had Daddy’s picture on it and a number then his name, Todd Wilson.
“When did you start driving a cab? Did you lose your job at Anderson’s Auto Lot?” I asked.
Daddy glanced into the rear-view mirror his sad gray eyes looked directly into mine, “No, I still sell cars for Big Jim Anderson. I just haven’t sold very many lately. So I drive a cab to make ends meet. The Law says I have to pay your mother her alimony payments on time. Last time I was late I was hauled before a judge again.”
I caught his bitter undertone and the slight shame in his voice. I finally said, “I’m sorry Daddy. I didn’t know things were so bad for you.”
“It gets worse.”
He pulled up in front of an apartment building and parked the cab then popped the trunk. He grabbed my luggage and led me into his apartment. It wasn’t much, a small living room, a mini-kitchen, a bathroom and single bedroom in back.
“Not much to it. You get the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I wrinkled my nose and said, “You could do better than this, Daddy.”
He chuckled, “Not really, your mother really took me to the cleaners in our divorce. Her alimony payments are outrageous. Anyway this isn’t so bad. I know its cramped but I’m not here that much.”
I looked around the dim apartment again and shrugged my shoulders, “I’m sorry, Daddy I didn’t know.”
His face was drained and he looked tired, “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry you’re so disappointed. I need to get the cab back on the street. Did you have supper?”
“Yeah, I ate before I got on the plane. You’re going back to work?”
Daddy nodded, “My shift ends at 6AM. Call for a pizza if you’re hungry. There’s a number on the door of the fridge. Go to bed whenever you want there’s fresh sheets on it. See you at breakfast.”
I slept fitfully in Daddy’s bed. I was up and going when he walked through the front door at half past six the next morning. Pouring cereal into a bowl at the tiny dinner table in the kitchen I asked him, “Did you get the milk I texted you about?”
Daddy smiled at me as he pulled a half a gallon of milk from a paper bag. “Yeah, here it is. You should call me. I can’t text very well, especially when I’m driving.”
I took the milk, opened it and poured it over the cereal, “The milk you had was three weeks past expiration. It was stinking up the whole fridge. I’ll clean it out later. You have some other science experiments going on in there. I might have to get a HazMat suit.”
Daddy smiled weakly, “I know I’m not much of a house keeper and it’s a far cry from our house we had when you were a kid. But, there’s a pool in the courtyard of the apartment complex. You can work on your tan while you’re here.”
I nodded and chewed thoughtfully and then asked “You’ve lived here since the divorce? You’ve lived here for three years?”
“Yep, as part of the divorce settlement our house on Colorado Boulevard had to be sold and the profit split between your mother and me. I put my share in a trust fund solely for your education. Your college is paid for and your mother can’t get her greedy hands on it.”
“I could transfer to a cheaper college if it will get you out of this dump.”
He violently shook his head, “No, Haley. Cal Tech is the best school in the country for your major and my Baby-girl deserves the best.” His voice became stern, “If you’d rather not stay here I can put you on a plane to your mother’s this afternoon.”
This time I shook my head, “I’m sorry Daddy. I knew Mother had been ugly in the divorce but I didn’t know it was this bad. Besides she doesn’t have time for me this summer. She’s too busy being a Cougar on the prowl.”
I giggled, “Oh, Daddy. A Cougar is an older woman who goes after younger men.”
Daddy smirked with bitterness, “I just don’t understand your mother. We were married for eighteen years and then all of sudden she decides she doesn’t want to be married anymore. It pisses me off. I played by the rules. I never cheated on her. I was a good provider. I loved her, yet she still left me and took you with her. I just don’t understand.”
“I know…” I mumbled my mouth full of half-chewed cereal.
“Chew then speak. I know you were raised right,” scolded Daddy.
I swallowed and then said, “Sorry Daddy. I think Mother has Gerascophobia.”
“The fear of growing old. Its based on anxieties created by society.”
Daddy cocked and eyebrow unsure, “Societal anxiety?”
I nodded, “Yes, I learned about this in psychology class. Society says the young are beautiful and the old are not. Society says the young are stimulating, so the old must be boring. Mother fears growing old so she dresses younger, acts younger and chases younger men. She has turned her fears into a phobia.”
“You learned all that in psych class?” Daddy chuckled, “the value of a college education.”
“Let’s talk about something besides Mother. Are you dating anyone?”
“No, how can I? I’m working two jobs so your Mother can act younger than her age. I don’t have time to date. What about you, any college boys sparked your interest?”
I shook my head negatively. “I’m looking for a man. I’m tired of boys.”
“Don’t the boys at college like girls with pink streaks in their hair?” he teased.
“They’re called highlights and I just have a couple. The pink makes my purple top pop don’t you think?”
Daddy’s eyes fell on my ample bosom and he said mischievously, “No, I think your big boobs make your top pop.”
I laughed and gave his shoulder a little push. “So why drive a taxi?”
His smiled faded, “The short answer is I need the money. My sales have been off. I used to sell close to twenty cars a month before the divorce. Last month, I sold only four…four cars the whole freaking month. Besides driving a cab beats sitting at home.”
“I don’t understand, you used to be the top salesman at Anderson’s.”
“Used to be is right. Big Jim has been great. He should’ve replaced me a long time ago. I guess since car sales are strictly commission sales I really haven’t cost Big Jim any money but I haven’t made him any either. He’s a stand up guy.”
“So how much did you make when you sold a car?”
Daddy grinned, “I made roughly $300 a car and I averaged 18 a month. You do the math.”
“So what happened?”
He rubbed a hand through his tangle mane, “I don’t know. So much of selling is confidence. When your mother left me I just lost my confidence.”
Daddy choked and he turned his face from me. A moment later with teary eyes he said, “I’m not blaming her but it is what it is, you have to have confidence to sell and I don’t have any.”
I grimaced I had never seen my father this way before and it frighten me.
He patted my arm and said, “Don’t fret Haley. Your college is paid for and I make enough driving the cab to make my alimony payment,” he paused and glanced around the apartment, “plus all this luxury.”
Daddy jumped into the shower then crawled into the only bed in the apartment. I cleaned the kitchen as quietly as possible so as not to disturb him. Once I was satisfied the apartment would no longer be considered a Bio-hazard I stripped off the long yellow latex gloves and threw them away.
I took out my laptop and logged onto the World Wide Web to do some research. Something Daddy had said about confidence seemed to trigger a memory from my psychology class. I needed to investigate it further. I loved my father and it hurt to see him so miserable.
Soon I found an Internet article entitled: Sex and Self-Esteem A Big Boost for Men. It said being in a relationship with the opposite sex boosts a man’s sense of self-esteem. A man’s level of sexual self confidence influences everything he thinks, feels, says or does and affects everything and everyone who comes in contact with him. It even influences his success.
My mind began to whirl as I digested the article. I thought men just sought out sex to gratify their primal drive. Now I had discovered that men need a steady sexual relationship for successful self-confidence. I smiled as a plan began to form then frowned as the societal prohibitions to it came to mind.
At noon Daddy’s alarm went off. I giggled as he stumbled out of the bedroom sleepy-eyed into the bathroom. His boxers were tented with an erection.
“Don’t pee on the floor. I just cleaned the bathroom.” I chided him.
A few moments later he came out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. He had lost his erection and didn’t seem at all embarrassed to be standing in front of his daughter in his boxers.
I stood up and kissed his cheek. “Afternoon Daddy, how did you sleep?”
He smiled, “I slept better than I have in long time. The pillow had the scent of your perfume on it. It’s been a long time since I had the scent of women in my bed. What’s the name of your perfume anyway?”
I giggled, “Amore. Sit down I’ll get you some coffee.”
“Just one cup. I need to get to Anderson’s. I might sell a car before my taxi shift begins at six.”
“Daddy you’re working yourself to death. You only got about five hours sleep. I can get a job this summer and help out.”
“You can if you want, but it won’t change anything. Why don’t you just enjoy your summer with me? Just lay out by the pool. You have the rest of your life to work.”
He finished the coffee and started to get up from his chair. I pushed him back down and said, “Scoot back from the table. If you’re going to sell cars you need to look presentable. You look too shaggy to be a salesman.”
Daddy started to protest and then acquiesced. He looked at the scissors in my hand and then up at me, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
I smiled as I wrapped a towel around his shoulders. “Not exactly but I did give Mother’s poodle a trim last spring.”
He laughed and I went to work. We made small talk as I trimmed his hair. My big boobs lightly caressed his arms and shoulders as I moved around him snipping his dark hair. My nipples hardened beneath my purple top with each teasing touch. I deliberately made sure he felt them on the bare skin of his arm. When I had finished I whispered in his ear in a husky, sexy voice, “All done, Daddy.”
The hair on the back of his neck immediately stood on end. I chuckled and told him that just wouldn’t do. I fetched his razor from the bathroom with his shaving cream. I filled the sink with hot water. I dapped the shaving cream on the back of his neck and shaved the baby hairs from it.
“Might as well shave your face while I’m at it,” I offered.
I wrapped a hot wet towel around Daddy’s face for few minutes to soften and sooth his scraggly beard. I noticed Daddy’s eyes drifting to the camel toe between my legs created by the tight material of my pink booty shorts. I lathered his face with shaving cream then straddled his leg. I began to scrape the stubble from his face.
An electrical charge of excitement ran from my leg to deep inside my belly each time the bare flesh of my leg touched Daddy’s uncovered leg. My pussy dampened and my hand trembled as I tried to quickly accomplish my task without cutting Daddy’s throat.
“All done,” I croaked betraying my sexual stimulation.
I tapped the razor in the sink and pulled the drain plug. I looked over my shoulder and caught Daddy ogling my ass. One word was written in white block letters across the rear of my booty shorts: Naughty. My shorts were wedged into my crack and they didn’t quite cover me so my butt cheeks peeked out from beneath them. I flashed Daddy an impish grin.
He detected my surveillance, smiled at me, mumbled his thanks and staggered back to the bedroom to change. His erection was back.
As he closed the door I reached between my legs and pulled the seam of my booty shorts out of my pussy. The material was very wet and refused to be dislodged. It excited me to know that I had aroused my father with such illicit lust. I felt a wicked pang of reasonable doubt but I wouldn’t let it deter me from what I knew I needed to do.
I gave Daddy a peck on the cheek as he left for work and spent the rest of the afternoon poolside. My bikini clad body enjoyed the lazy respite on a towel-covered chaise lounge as my mind raced with wild and lurid thoughts and schemes. I twisted a pink strand of hair lost in thought. Suddenly I giggled as I reflected on Daddy’s reaction to the pink highlights that decorated my honey brown hair.
My belly warmed with lust as I entertained taboo thoughts of my father. He had gotten a vasectomy several years ago so there was no danger on that front. Gleefully I recalled his tented boxers. His erection had looked enormous in his boxers. At least it appeared to be bigger than the ones I had experienced in college.
I glanced around the pool to make sure I was alone. Satisfied that I was, I lightly ran my index finger down over my bikini bottom through the slit of my pussy. I damped more and the material clung to my nethers. I slyly slid my hand down the front of my bikini bottom this time under the moisten material. My fingers inched their way toward my slick clit.
Somewhere across the courtyard a slammed door echoed. I jumped plucking my hand from my pussy and out of my bikini. Spooked by the chance of getting caught masturbating in public I hopped up and hurried to Daddy’s apartment.
My lust was stilled not satiated. I kicked off my flip-flops and made my way to his bedroom. I opened his closet and found a white button down shirt hanging inside. I undid the strings to my bikini top and let it fall to the floor. Bare breasted I slipped the shirt on. My nipples hardened as I picked up the scent of Daddy’s masculine pheromones left in his shirt. I left the shirt unbutton and reached inside its lapel and gently pinched my nipples until a feral groan escaped my throat.
I seductively swung my hips as I strutted to the bed pretending that Daddy was already in it watching and waiting for me. I cocked a hip and untied the string to my bikini bottoms on the left side. Then repeated the process on the other side. The bikini bottoms failed to fall to the floor. They clung to my saturated snatch by the gusset so I pulled them and they dropped.
Then I crawled from the bottom of the bed feeling the cool air on my overheated sex. I collapsed and rolled over on to my back when I reached the top of the bed. I rested my head on a pillow as my breath came in excited pants.
I traced a pink painted fingernail between by breasts down my belly. I was careful to avoid my engorged clit. I had a small patch of honey brown pubic hair neatly trimmed above the cleft of my cunt but the rest of my pussy I kept completely bald. With delicate care I immersed my finger between the folds of my labia lubricated with lust. Slowly I worked my finger in and out of myself. My pussy grew slicker and I edged another finger inside it. I hissed feeling fuller. I quickened the pace of my poking paw. My other hand urgently dawdled my clit.
Gradually the pressure built to a crescendo of blood pounding pleasure. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. I steadily shook it from side to side in tempo with the in and out action of my fingers. Suddenly orgasmic colors of white and red burst through my brain I fought for consciousness. I lifted my butt off the mattress with my fingers buried deep in my pussy. I screamed, “DADDY!”
Panting I pulled my fingers from quivering quim as my tummy trembled in post-orgasmic enchantment. I had never cum like that before. Temporarily satisfied I curled up in Daddy’s shirt and drifted off to sleep. I dreamed of my father fucking me silly.
Daddy called me later asking me to meet him for supper at a diner a short distance from his apartment. He waved from a booth as I came through the door. He smiled and his eyes gleamed with giddiness as he watched the alluring undulation of my hips. My stiletto heels echoed clickety-clack on the tiled floor.
I was wearing a pair of skin tight white low-rise jeans which clung to my cunt in a natural camel toe. The waist band set just below my exposed hip bones and three inches below my belly-button which was further exposed by my mid-riff crop top. It was white as well and since I wore no bra my hard nipples were visible and made the material jut out advertising my ardor.
“Hey Baby-girl,” said Daddy as I slid into the seat across from him.
“How was your day?” I replied.
“Good. I almost sold a car. A guy who just retired came in looking for a luxury model. I spent most of the afternoon with him. He test drove two different models. I broke out a contract and he back-pedaled. Said he’d be back tomorrow with his wife.”
“I’m sorry Daddy. You’ll sell him a car tomorrow.”
He shook his head disgusted, “Be-backers seldom come back.”
I patted his hand on the table to comfort him. He pulled it back like he had been zapped with cattle prod. I noticed goose-bumps racing up his arm. He rubbed his excited flesh vigorously with his hand.
“Are you chilly?” he choked.
“No I’m hot.” I teased fanning my face with my hand.
Daddy smiled back, “Your sure are Baby-girl.”
An auburn haired waitress with decent size boobs arrived at our table to take our order. She smiled at Daddy and frowned at me. “Good evening Todd. How are you?”
Daddy introduced us, “Julie, this is my daughter Haley. She’s visiting me from college for the summer.”
She gave me a half-smile, “Hello Haley. Your dad is sure proud of you he talks about you every time he eats with us.”
Before I could reply she turned her attention back to Daddy, “You want your usual?”
Daddy smiled, “Make it two.”
He scooped up my hand off the table and squeezed it, “They have the best lasagna here.”
I grinned like a little girl at Christmas pleased with Daddy’s complete dismissal of Julie. I giggled as she suppressed an offended outburst with an asphyxiated cough. I glanced over my shoulder as she swung her hips trying to catch Daddy’s attention as she hustled our order to the kitchen. I turned and smiled at Daddy who only had eyes for me. He was oblivious to the waitress’ jealous flirtation.
After supper at the diner Daddy drove me back to his apartment in his taxi cab. I subtly glanced over my shoulder as I sauntered to the door. I was pleased that he scrutinized my oscillating derrière with such intensity. I could almost hear him groan when I bent over to pick up my dropped key. I opened the door and then waved at him as he pulled away and back into the bustle of the city.
The next morning I was once again up and going before Daddy got home. I had already bathed and dressed and had put on my make-up when I heard him came through the door.
This is the fifth chapter of seven in Book 3 of Charlie and Mindy, which is a story of forbidden love between a brother and a sister.
This book stands on its own, but it refers to events that took place in Books 1 and 2. You may therefore want to read Book 1 and Book 2 before reading this book.
I value your comments and your feedback, and, circumstances permitting, I will respond to either—usually within a week.
Friday, January 1, 1988–Wednesday, January 13, 1988
Mom and Dad were home for all of the long New Year’s weekend, so my little sister Mindy and I had to defer our first fuck of 1988 until the morning of Monday, January 4. I tried to tease her about the delay, but when I tried, she smiled slyly and called me “Scullion”. After the second time, I looked the word up. I tried once or twice more, but she responded the same way—and once I knew that a scullion is “a servant assigned the most menial kitchen tasks,” it wore out pretty quickly. She definitely won that round.
On Saturday, January 9, the mailman delivered two real treats. My birthday being the very next day, I thought of both of them as birthday presents. The first of those treats was our grades. Mindy and I had both gotten all A’s for the fall semester. I’d never done anything like that before, and I was ecstatic. (So ecstatic, in fact, that Mindy’s “I told you so” look didn’t faze me a bit.) Mom and Dad were so pleased that they took us out to a fancy restaurant that night for dinner to celebrate.
The second treat was the 1988 catalog from the National Outdoor Leadership School. In those days, the school routinely mailed each year’s catalog to all of its graduates. Nowadays, the school encourages former students to view the catalog on-line, though it will mail you a copy upon request.
That catalog has always been (and still is) full of wonderful photography of the wonderful places where the school conducts its courses. And foremost among those places is the Wind River Range, where Mindy and I had fallen in love with each other. I spent the afternoon with my little sister, poring over that year’s collection of wilderness photos—not to mention the course descriptions.
The pictures in the NOLS catalog were (and are) mostly taken by actual students in the field on their courses. The front of the ’88 catalog showed a picture of several students cooking on a gravel beach—probably somewhere on the coast of Alaska. In the background, some other students are tended to kayaks drawn up on the beach. Photos inside showed students hiking, skiing, camping, and rock-climbing, as well as traveling on glaciers, crossing rushing mountain streams, building igloos, and doing Tyrolean traverses. And always, in the background, there is stunning wilderness scenery: mountains, meadows, cliffs, snowfields, glaciers, veldt.
On the back of the catalog was a quarter-page photo that showed a granite ridge in the distance—and a grassy meadow, liberally dotted with purple mountain asters, in the foreground. It was heartbreakingly familiar. I had never been in that particular location, but I knew instantly that the picture came from the Wind River Mountains. I didn’t need to read the caption—which confirmed what I’d known at first sight.
We couldn’t contain ourselves at dinner. We hadn’t yet fulfilled our part of the bargain entirely, but we certainly thought we’d made a big step in the right direction. So we asked if Mindy could submit her application for a course the coming summer. Mom and Dad were so pleased with our grades that they just looked at each other, smiled, and nodded in unison.
Dad added, “The deal’s still in place. Neither of you has completed your obligations yet, but both of you have certainly shown good faith. Go ahead and apply.”
Mindy whooped with joy, jumped up from her seat at the table and made a tour of the table, squeezing each of the three of us in turn—Mom first, then Dad, and then me. (Mom and Dad were both watching, so I had to remember not to slip in a feel or go for a deep kiss.) Then she remembered that we were in a fancy restaurant. People were looking at us. Her face went red as the rest of us laughed at her embarrassment. But she couldn’t stop grinning for the rest of the evening.
The following day was my twentieth birthday. There were some small birthday presents—one from each of the three other family members—waiting for me on the dining room table when I got up. They were nothing spectacular—our family had never been very extravagant about birthdays, though we always marked them.
Mindy and I spent most of that morning in the living room with the NOLS catalog, as she decided which course she wanted to take. In the end, she chose the one she’d thought at the very beginning she’d want—the Wind River Wilderness Course. It was the one I’d taken in 1985, and the one I’d always thought she’d take.
Then she had to decide on her first, second, and third choices from among the thirteen offerings of that particular course. She settled, at last, on one that ran from June 30 to July 30 as her first choice, one from June 27 to July 27 second, and June 20 to July 20 third.
In a moment of privacy when Mom and Dad were both in other parts of the house, she snuggled up against me, kissed me thoroughly (while rubbing her tits and her snatch against me), and whispered that my “real” birthday present would be a day late because we’d need to get naked in order for her to deliver it properly.
Eyes glinting, she added that my birthday present was going to include a reward for getting all A’s. Naturally, I had an instant boner. Then we heard Mom coming toward the room; fortunately, she was far enough away for us to separate and my hard-on to wilt before she got there. Mindy wiped the smirk off of her face at the last possible second before Mom stepped into the room.
Mindy’s NOLS application, together with a $150 check—bearing Dad’s signature—for the application fee, went out with the next day’s mail.
That next day, Monday, January 11, Dad left town for a business trip to Washington, DC. He was involved in some legal matter involving courts in several South American nations, and he needed to spend a couple of weeks conferring with Big Wigs and Important People in the State Department. He would be back home for the last week of January, but Mindy and I would be back in school a week earlier—so we wouldn’t see him again during our break. Knowing that he would be leaving before we were up that morning, we said good-bye to him on Sunday evening.
He would go to Chile for a few weeks at the beginning of February, and from there to Bolivia, Peru, and Colombia. He anticipated that his business would be concluded in early March. Mom was going to join him then in Colombia, and the two of them would spend two or three weeks together seeing South America. They planned to be home for our spring break, in early April.
Mom took him to Stapleton Airport, in Denver, early that morning—around 5:30; then she went directly to work from there. They’d timed it so that she would get to work at almost exactly the time she would’ve otherwise.
Mindy slipped into my bed at about 7:00 am. I woke on my left side to find my little sister naked, backed up against me (and my morning wood—which projected, as usual, through the fly of the boxers I wore to bed at home). She’d brought my right arm around her and placed my right hand on her left boob. It could’ve been better—but only if she’d spent the whole night naked in my arms.
Groggily, I nibbled on her neck a bit, while kneading her tit. She moaned and wiggled her ass against my boner. Then she clenched her ass-cheeks around it—making it throb with happiness.
“Go take your morning piss,” she said, “and think about how we’re going to celebrate your birthday. Hurry back.” I could hear the evil grin in her voice.
Still half asleep, but feeling pretty randy anyway, I climbed out of bed, clumsily shed my shorts and tee shirt, stumbled into the bathroom, and obeyed orders. My cock shrank, as always, so that I could piss. I paid particular attention to the instruction she’d given me about hurrying back. But we hadn’t fucked since the preceding Friday, and by the time I got back to my room my cock had stiffened again and led the way.
I found her curled up under the covers, still lying on her left side and facing the door—watching for me—when I reentered the room. She was still a bit sleepy herself; her hair was tousled, and her eyelids drooped a bit. But the smile she gave me was real, and so was the look of frank desire that she gave my rod.
Mom and Dad, too, turned the heat down at night—though they had a thermostat that handled it automatically. Left to itself, that thermostat would’ve kept the house chilly until just before they were to get home for work. Mindy had turned it up before she’d crawled into my bed, but the house was still chilly.
I slipped into the welcome warmth of the bed facing my naked little sister, and took her even more welcome warmth into my arms. Still a bit dazed, I pulled her gently against me and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around me and—a bit fuzzily herself—returned the kiss. The smell of her own warm bed—quintessentially feminine—lingered on her skin and mingled with the smell of mine. My cock throbbed and pulsed where it had come to rest between our bodies. At least somebody was awake.
She broke the kiss, and her right hand came up, out from under the covers, to stroke my cheek; I felt the stubble of my beard rasp against her.
“I love you so, Big Brother,” she said, pushing me over onto my back and rolling on top of me. My prong took the opportunity to slide between her thighs and stroke along her furrow as she straddled me.
“I love you back so, Little Sister,” I mumbled—I was having a good bit of trouble waking up that morning. Dimly, I understood that she was going to do something about that—something I’d enjoy very much.
“I’ve come to deliver your birthday present—the real one,” she said. “But I’m afraid it may not be what you thought it would be.”
“Hunh?” My hands caressed the soft curves of her hips and thighs. She’d placed her hands to either side of my chest, and, taking the weight of her upper body on her arms, she’d raised her head to look down into my eyes. Once again, I marveled at their deep blueness.
“My period started yesterday, so we can’t fuck.”
“Well, I’m glad it started, I guess,” I said. Babies were definitely not in our plans for the immediate future.
“Me, too,” she said. “But having it on your birthday’s a real bummer.”
“I think we’ll survive,” I said.
“But it means I can’t give you what you’d like most for your birthday,” she went on. “So I’ve thought of something else.”
She lowered her head so that her lips reached under my chin and connected with my neck. Slowly she rose to her hands and knees and backed up, nibbling and kissing her way downward from my neck, passing down the middle of my chest and over my stomach. The bed covers moved with her, but we were generating enough heat of our own that I barely noticed the chill in the room. Her tongue swirled around in my bellybutton, and she raised her head and looked up at me.
My boner pressed against her chest, right between her lovely little titties. Rising a bit, she took it into her right hand and stroked it several times. She smiled up at me and said, “Just lie here, Lover. I want to fuck you with my mouth for a while, and then, when you’re almost ready to come, I’m going to sit on you and fuck you with my ass.”
My cock jumped and pulsed at that, and she chuckled.
“Somebody’s happy,” she said. “And he makes me happy when he does that.”
Before I could respond, she lowered her head and guided my glans into her mouth. The heat and moisture of her softly clasping lips and the gentle action of her swirling tongue were breathtaking. It seemed as though the rest of my body surrendered so that every bit of vitality I possessed could flow into my cock—causing it to grow and harden even more.
Slowly, she took my full length into her loving mouth. I throbbed and pulsed inside her and heard her moan in response as her lips reached the very root of my shaft. From somewhere, my hips found the strength they needed to buck involuntarily in answer to the inexpressible sensations she brought me.
I heard her choke a little as my hips drove me a bit too deep into her throat, but that happened only once, at the very first, and it didn’t keep her from carrying out her promise to fuck me with her mouth for a while. Her head bobbed up and down, in perfect opposition to the motions of my hips. My cock slid in and out, in and out, and her head continued, up and down, up and down.My hands reached down, took her head between them, kept time with her motion, guiding her, seeking my release.
Sensing the storm gathering within me, she slowed, changed her rhythm, and began moving her head in synchrony with me—rising as I rose, descending as I descended. Still I came closer and closer. Not being ready to let me come, she removed her mouth and brought it to the inside of my left thigh. Baring her teeth, she nipped me slightly. The slight pain and the surprise fended off the crisis.
“Not yet, Buster,” she said. I looked down and saw her smiling at me past my pulsing cock from the valley between my thighs. She nibbled a bit on my balls, and, when my cock had stopped surging, she took it again into her mouth. Slowly, gently, she again brought me almost to the brink.
When she had me almost there, she removed her mouth again. Still on her hands and knees above me, she brought her body up against mine. Her right hand again caressed my cheek as her lips sought mine for a deep, long, loving kiss.
When she broke that kiss, she retreated a few inches—just far enough that we could focus our eyes on each other.
“I’m so glad I’m in love with you,” she whispered to me. “And now I’m going to finish you off the way I promised—with my tight little tushy.”
My cock liked that idea, surged in agreement. But before I could say anything, she threw the covers all the way back, raised herself off of me, and reached down over the side of the bed to my right to pick up the towel and the KY jelly she’d hidden there before she’d gotten into bed with me. She made me raise my ass up off of the bed so that she could put the towel under me, saying, “Just in case I leak—from either hole.”
Once she had me arranged on the towel to her satisfaction, she applied some KY to my cock. The jelly was cold, as always, and it brought me a little further back from the precipice her mouth had brought me dangerously close to.
Facing me, she straddled me again, placing her crotch right above my straining cock, and applied some of the KY to herself. She bent over and kissed me again, lovingly, lingeringly. While we kissed, my hands stroked up along her sides, starting at her hips, moved up to her armpits, reached finally inward to cup her little tits and tweak her nipples a bit.
She moaned into my mouth.
She rose to the vertical on her knees and rested her left hand on her own left leg. My eyes rested on her little boobs—the perfect little boobs I adored so much—as she reached down between her thighs with her right hand. She found my cock, now slippery with lubricant, grasped it firmly, and guided my glans to her asshole as she lowered her body. My own hands found the gentle swell of her hips and rested there.
As usual, her body resisted at first—involuntarily, I suppose. But she brought more of her weight to bear, and, suddenly, the head of my cock popped into her. She brought her right hand up from between her thighs to rest on her right leg, and she arrested her downward motion to let her aperture adjust to the invasion. We both moaned at the feelings her tight muscular ring brought us. Her eyes, I could see, were now closed, but there was a faint smile on her lips.
I shifted my glance downward from her face, traveling toward where our bodies were now joined. My eyes passed slowly over her body, enjoying the view. They encountered first the little tits I so much loved to look at and touch. Next came her tiny, flat waist, whose narrowness accentuated the roundedness of her boobs and the curvature of her hips. Then, I saw the little brown, downward-pointing triangle of her fur and followed its direction on to her mound. Two or three inches of white string dangled from the lower end of her cleft—string belonging to the tampax that occupied my cock’s favorite position. There below her furrow, I could see where my cock entered her body, its head embedded in her ass.
My cock wanted to move—wanted to feel the clasping band of her sphincter slide up and down its length. But, even though we had butt-fucked a number of times before and I knew she enjoyed it, I still had a residue of fear that I would cause her pain—possibly even injure her—if I moved too quickly or too forcefully before she was ready. So I stroked her hips and her thighs and I brought my eyes back up to her face as I waited for her.
After fifteen or twenty seconds, she opened her eyes. Her hands came up to her chest, where they cupped her tits and kneaded them. She saw that I was looking at her, and the faint smile deepened. I felt myself sinking into the deep blue pools of her eyes.
“You always feel so big right after we put you in my ass,” she whispered. “But I love to feel you inside me—anywhere.”
She lowered her body, sliding my cock deep into her bowels, until I could feel her snatch against my pubic bone and her ass-cheeks against my thighs. She alternately contracted and relaxed the muscles that gripped me.
“Oh, God! That feels so good!” I breathed. Her anal ring was now wrapped tightly around the base of my cock. She rested there a while, looking deeply into my eyes, smiling broadly, holding my throbbing cock deep within her, now squeezing it, now relaxing.
“This,” she pointed out, her smiling deepening ever more, “is what happens to my lovers who get all A’s.”
“If only I’d known,” I managed to mumble, “I’d have been getting all A’s ever since I was 5.”
She bent down and kissed me; it was just a quick peck. “You weren’t my lover then—so it wouldn’t have done you any good.”
With what remained of my concentration, I replied. “I’m glad to know that. It means I didn’t waste any opportunities.”
My cock took control. My hips, which had decided to take its orders rather then mine, bucked it even more deeply into her, and her hips replied. So did her sphincter—which squeezed me some more.
I could think only of the way her body moved up and down, up and down, driving my slippery shaft in and out, in and out—her taut ring sliding along my length, stroking me, squeezing me, drawing me closer and closer to zenith.
Apocalypse came upon me, and my semen gushed, burning, through the length of my cock and into her body. Again, again, again. My body strained to bury every bit of my pulsing, surging cock deep inside of her, and she responded by driving herself down on me with all of her weight in answer to my desperate need. She clamped her sphincter around me, intensifying my spasms almost beyond bearing. Vaguely, I heard her cooing to me, “Come for me, Birthday Boy! Fill my ass with your cum! I love you so much! I want your cum up my ass so much!”
And then it was over, and I lay there on the bed under her, drained and nearly unconscious. Dimly, I felt her little hands, stroking my sides and my belly, gently massaging my relaxed flesh. Her sphincter continued to contract and relax, contract and relax, around my still-stiff shaft, holding it prisoner—but not, by any stretch of the imagination, against its will. I felt it responding, though weakly, to those powerful compressions.
At length, I recovered and opened my eyes. I didn’t remember closing them, but it was evident that I had. She sat there on me, my cock still up her ass, smiling at me as though she was the Cheshire cat and had just eaten several Cheshire canaries.
“I think,” she offered, “that you liked your birthday present.”
“God, yes!” I said. “I’m twenty, now, but I don’t think I’d live to be thirty if birthdays weren’t a full year apart!”
“You,” she said sternly, “are going to live a great deal longer than that. Because I plan to, and I can’t do it without you.”
“Deal!” I replied.
She smiled. “Deal!”
We were to return to school on Friday, January 15. Mom would to take a few hours off from work that morning, in order to drive us to the airport in Denver. Our flight wasn’t as early as Dad’s had been, but it was early enough that neither Mindy nor I was particularly happy about it. We’d be leaving home around 6:30 in the morning so that we could get to the airport by 8:00 for a 9:30 flight.
Mom had been moody and subdued ever since Dad had left. I supposed that she must have missed him, and that maybe she was going through a stretch of hard time at work.
On Wednesday evening, Mom had asked us to be packed by suppertime on Thursday, because she needed to spend some time with us that evening. So we started getting our shit together after our Thursday morning exercises—which were back to normal, Mindy’s period having ended the previous day. We were pretty well finished before lunchtime, and we spent the afternoon snuggling and reviewing our French and our calculus.
Thursday, January 14, 1988
After supper, around 8:00, as I undertook the last of the obligations as scullion that had resulted from the New Year’s Eve bet I’d lost so spectacularly, Mom asked Mindy to come upstairs to the master bedroom with her. I reckoned that Mom wanted to have a girl-talk with her.
About twenty minutes later, as I finished in the kitchen, Mom came to the head of the stairs and asked me to come up and join her and Mindy. I thought I heard a catch in her voice as she did so, and, a moment later, when I walked into the master bedroom, I found Mindy sitting on the bed. She was crying; tears rolled gently down her cheeks. I looked toward Mom, wondering what was going on. She stood about eight feet from Mindy, facing us both. She looked older than her years, and her shoulders were bowed as if under intolerable weight. Her face was cold, severe.
Mom looked directly at me. She said “I know.”
There was only one thing she could mean. I looked at Mindy more closely. Anger, grief, and apprehension distorted her face. But in spite of the burden of her own emotions, she gave me a look of reassurance.
“I know that you and Mindy are having sex with each other,” Mom said bleakly.
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came. There were no words.
“You don’t need to say anything right now,” Mom went on. She sat down on a chair that faced the bed.
My only thoughts at that instant were for Mindy. I stepped over to the bed where she sat—the bed that Mom and Dad shared—and I sat down on it beside her. Turning toward her, I took my little sister, who was my own lover, whom I loved beyond all things, into my arms. Her little body molded itself to me, her arms enfolded me, and she sighed. She was still distraught; her tears still flowed; but I could feel her little frame begin to relax as I held her against myself.
“I wish,” Mom went on, “that I could have approached you both together about this, but I had to talk to Mindy alone first, so I could be absolutely sure.”
My mouth opened; I wanted to say something—anything. But nothing came out.
Thinking, maybe, that I was about to try to deny her accusation, Mom said, “No—not about what you’re doing, but about how you came to be doing it.
“I need to apologize to you, Charlie, for the doubts and the suspicions that went through my mind when I understood the secret my children have been sharing. I was afraid that you’d forced Mindy into something against her will—driven her somehow into a relationship she doesn’t really want. If you had done that, I think it would have killed me.
“That’s why I had to talk to Mindy alone—so I would know that she could say what she wanted to say without you here to influence her.
“In my heart, I knew that you couldn’t be forcing her—that you couldn’t do something like that to your little sister. But the doubt and the suspicion wouldn’t go away. I, of all people, should have trusted you both, but I didn’t—and I’m sorry for that.”
It dawned on me then that, because I’m male and older than Mindy, I would naturally be the object of such suspicion from anyone who discovered our relationship. It was a very unpleasant revelation.
Mindy, reading my mind as only she could, squeezed me reassuringly. If there had been any doubt in my mind that we were still in this together, that squeeze would surely have driven it out. But I’d had no doubts to begin with, and the squeeze I gave her in return communicated that. Wherever Mom was going with this, I was sure that Mindy was on my side—and she could be sure that I was on hers.
Something about the way Mindy and I had interacted had had a positive effect on Mom. It was as though she now saw something between us that she had not at first believed was there at all. Her expression softened a bit, but she said nothing about it. Instead she continued; her tears flowed freely as she did. “The sexual relationship you have with each other isn’t something that any mother wants to find between her children. But there it is.”
She paused, gathering her thoughts.
“You’re both adults now, even if your mother doesn’t always want to believe it.You can make your own choices, and, apparently, you have made choices of your own. I know that they don’t have to be the choices I would make for you. And, now that I know that you both made your choices freely, that there’s no coercion or duplicity between you, it’s not my place to criticize them—or either of you.”
She turned to Mindy. “Mindy,” she asked gently, much more herself than she had been just moments earlier when I had entered the room, “will you go downstairs and leave me alone with your brother for a few minutes.”
Mindy, still crying, squeezed me again. She looked into my eyes, reached up, and kissed me gently on the lips, and then she stood up and left the room. She closed the door as she went, and a few seconds later I heard her little feet on the stairs as she descended slowly, wrapped in misery.
Mom looked directly into my eyes. “Charlie, Mindy has told me that the two of you are deeply in love with each other.” Mom’s eyes were the same compelling blue that Mindy’s were. “What do you have to say about that?”
Words were hard to find. I looked directly into the deep blue fire that burned from my mother’s eyes, and I nodded my head. Somehow, I found my tongue, and I said, “Yes, Mom. I’m deeply in love with Mindy, and she’s deeply in love with me.”
“What makes you think Mindy is in love with you?” she asked.
There was only one possible answer. “She’s told me that she is. Again and again. I believe her.”
“And why should Mindy think that you’re in love with her?” She sounded skeptical.
“I’ve told her so. Many times.” Once again, it was the only possible answer.
“We don’t lie to each other,” I went on. “Ever. We agreed when we were little—even before you married Dad—that we wouldn’t ever lie to each other.
“We both try to live by that agreement. We call it ‘The Code’. We’ve both fu…uh…messed up once in a while, but never about anything important. And whenever I’ve messed up, I’ve straightened out my little lie before it could become a big one. Mindy’s always done the same.”
Her eyes bored into me. And then she said, “I believe you.” She said it softly—almost wonderingly. “Mindy told me, too, that you don’t lie to each other—in the very same words you just used. Including the ‘ever’. But she didn’t mention your ‘Code’.”
Her back stiffened some and her shoulders straightened. Her face softened further, and it seemed as though scores of years sloughed off of her.
There was new strength in her voice as she spoke again. “I’ve wanted so much to believe that what’s happening between the two of you isn’t something cheap and tawdry, Charlie. Now I do.”
“How…?” I started. But I could get out only that single word.
“How did I discover what you two were up to?” She completed my question. I saw that the corners of her mouth actually turned upward a bit.
“Charlie,” she said, “you’re one of the brightest young men I’ve ever known. But sometimes you don’t use what you’ve got.
“Do you really think that a woman who’s had two children, a woman who, for the last ten years, has shared a bed with a man she finds extraordinarily sexy, a woman who’s kept house for two mates during her life, wouldn’t know what semen stains on sheets look like?
“I expect to find those stains on your sheets, Charlie. Young men either masturbate or have wet dreams. Or both.”
I think I turned bright red, then. Young men also hate to be told that their mothers understand that they are sexual beings. Especially, they hate to have their mothers tell them so.
She went on. “But after you two left for school in August, I found semen stains on Mindy’s sheets as well as on yours. I guessed then that she’d found a young man she liked and had brought him home when no one else was around. And I smiled to myself and thought that, now that she was 18, it was about time for her to be doing something like that. I knew that she was on The Pill for other good reasons, so I wasn’t worried about her enjoying a little recreational sex.”
She was smiling for real, now. And it dawned on me, for the first time, that she was going to support us.
“And then the two of you came home for your Christmas vacation. Before long, I saw that something was different. You two have always thought the world of each other, but you came back home with a bond between you that’s much tighter than anything I’d ever seen before. And there were stains in both of your beds again.
“I think I knew, but I didn’t want to believe, so I tried not to think about it. And then, the morning Dad left, I finally thought it through and admitted to myself that I knew what was going on.
“But I still didn’t want to believe it, so I dithered. And while I dithered, I began to have nagging doubts about how the two of you had come to be doing what you’re doing with each other.
“Yesterday, I realized that I had to make sure that my doubts about my son were unfounded. I knew that I could never forgive myself if I were to learn someday that you’d been…I hated to think it, and I hate to say it…abusing Mindy, and that I should have known it, but that I’d ignored the evidence.
“So, really, I had no choice. A few minutes ago, I confronted her, and she confessed. She knew what I was afraid of, and, as the faith I ought to have had in the two of you would have told me, she exonerated you completely. She even tried to tell me that she seduced you!“
She looked directly into my eyes again; her deep blue eyes burned with a mother’s love for her firstborn.
“I didn’t believe for one second that she was entirely to blame! She was trying to repay an old debt.
“She was trying to cover for you the way you’ve always covered for her! You used to fool me into giving you her lickings when the two of you were little. I know for a fact that I thrashed you once for fighting—when I should have been thrashing Mindy. I didn’t learn until several years later that the reason you’d been fighting was that the other boy was a bully who’d hit Mindy after she’d called him something very uncultured and that I won’t repeat.”
That would’ve been Sam Anderson, a nasty, stupid bully who’d hit Mindy after she’d called him “a dumb fuck,” and whom, in consequence, I’d tried to drown in a handy mud puddle I’d decided God had put there for that purpose. Mom hadn’t known then that I’d tried to drown the son of a bitch, but my cuts and bruises, and the mess I’d made of my clothes, had been presumptive evidence that I’d been fighting. I’d admitted it, and she’d thrashed me with one of Dad’s belts for it.
“If I’d known then what Mindy had said to precipitate your fight, she’d have been the one in trouble—not you.”
That was why I’d stubbornly refused to tell Mom why I’d taken on that bully; I’d guessed she’d blister Mindy’s butt if she’d found out her daughter had been so uncultured as to say “fuck”.
“I’ve no idea how many other times you quietly accepted punishment that was rightly hers—but I know what you were like, I know how seriously you took protecting your sister, and I’m sure that there were other times.”
I didn’t have any idea how many other times there’d been either—not because it hadn’t happened, but because I couldn’t remember all of the incidents. I’d just thought it was all part of the big-brother job.
“If I’d thought about how you used to protect her—even from me—it might’ve alleviated some of the pain I’ve felt in the last few days.
“Now I have a dilemma, it seems. I must either accept your choices and support you, or I have to reject those choices—and the two of you along with them.
“Adults you may be, but you aren’t parents. So you can’t know yet what it’s like to love as a parent. I love both of you more than there are words for. I could never reject either of you—let alone both.
“I’m so sorry for my suspicions and my doubts, Charlie. Can you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Mom. Of course you wanted to protect Mindy. I’d expect nothing less of you.” I, better than anyone, understood wanting to protect Mindy. “And I’m sorry that we’ve disappointed you.”
“Oh, Charlie,” she replied. “You haven’t disappointed me. Neither you, nor she, nor the two of you. I’m a bit distressed. Like I said, this isn’t the kind of thing a mother wants to learn about her children. And I wonder if the two of you have any idea of what a long and rocky road you’ll have to travel in order to stay together.
“I can’t approve of what you two are doing. But I won’t disapprove, and I’m trying to accept. I have to, I want to, and I will support the two of you as best I can.”
“Have you told Mindy that?” I asked.
“No, I haven’t. Not yet. And I was too harsh with her, too. She must think I’m very angry.
“But I had to have the truth from her. And I couldn’t take a stand before I’d talked to you privately. You might have contradicted her. I knew—knew—that you wouldn’t. But without your side of the story as well as hers, I couldn’t—”
“Then I need to go to her,” I said, interrupting. “She needs to know where she stands with you. She knows where she stands with me, but she’s sad and afraid, and she needs to know—needs desperately to know—what you’ve just told me.”
I got up and stepped toward the door. Just before I reached it, I turned and looked back at her. “I’m sorry, Mom. I was too abrupt. Do you need to say more to me now?” I asked.
Tears flowed down her face, but she smiled at me. “Only that the way my children have tried to care for each other in the last half hour, the things you’ve just said to me, and the way you need to go to her now, convince me that you are in love with her—and that she is just as deeply in love with you.
“I need to collect myself. I’ll be down in a few minutes. She needs you. Go to her. Comfort her.”
I found my little sister lying, face down, sobbing, on the living room couch. Lost, as she was, in her tears, she hadn’t heard me come into the room. She started when I placed my hand on her shoulder as I sat down beside her on the edge of the couch. But after the initial surprise, she knew my touch.
She sat up immediately and threw herself into my arms, her own arms wrapping around me as she did. I backed up until I sat fully upon the couch. Turning herself toward me, she drew her legs up against the back of the couch so that she lay on her right side, her upper body in my arms, her hips and legs extending to my own right on the couch.
Deep, wrenching sobs wracked her little body. I held her close and stroked her.
“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m all right. You’re all right. Mom’s all right, and she’s all right with us. And remember—there’s nothing…nothing!…that we can’t face together.”
Slowly, her spasms passed. As they subsided, she looked up at me from the haven of my encircling arms. Tears still streamed down her cheeks as she said, “I know, Charlie. I’m safe with you. Always.”
I kissed her forehead. “Always,” I said.
I looked into her teary eyes and smiled.
“Big brother and little sister,” I whispered to her.
The first line of our private liturgy worked the magic we’d woven into it during our shared childhood. Her sobs stopped and I felt the tension leave her body. She gave me the first smile I’d seen on her face since Mom had asked to talk to her privately.
She whispered back the response. “Best friends and lovers.”
We looked into each other’s eyes and, together, we whispered to each other “Now and always!’
“I love you so much,” I continued—still in a whisper.
Almost herself again, she whispered back to me, “I love you even more!”
We squeezed each other. And then she backed up a bit and looked up at me again, wonder in her eyes. “Is Mom really OK with…us?” she asked.
“She’s OK,” I said. “Maybe not any better, but OK. She says she doesn’t approve, but she won’t disapprove either. She will try to accept, and she promises to support us.
“Oh,” I continued, “and she says she loves us both more than there are words for.”
“Really?” she asked in disbelief.
“Really,” I said.
“Oh, Charlie,” she said, falling into my arms again and placing her right cheek on my chest. “She was so angry. I was so afraid she wouldn’t forgive us. She looked so old, so defeated, so despondent when she talked to me. She even thought you might be raping me—but I think I made her understand that it was all my fault.”
“She’s herself again,” I said, putting my right hand under my little sister’s chin and lifting her face to look up at me. “But I’m afraid you’ve misjudged her about fault. She’s onto us. She knows all about my wrongful conviction in the case of Sam Anderson.”
At that memory, Mindy smiled again through what remained of her tears.
“She suspects that she wrongfully convicted me on quite a few other occasions—which she did. And she thinks that when you tried to take all the blame for our relationship you were trying to repay that old debt—an imaginary old debt as far as I’m concerned.
“She’s got the blame for…us…right where it belongs—spread evenly across both our shoulders. We’re both grownups, we’re both in this together, and we both walked into it with our eyes wide open. And am I ever glad, on all three counts.”
“Me, too,” she said, simply, and reached up to kiss me.
I held my beloved little sister in my arms as we exchanged a gentle, lingering kiss—a lovers’ kiss. We ended it as we heard the firm tread of Mom’s feet on the stairs. I looked into the deep blue of Mindy’s eyes, and she returned my look. Together we whispered to each other, “I love you.”
We did not break our lovers’ embrace when Mom entered the room a few seconds later. It was not that we wanted to rub her nose in something she might find distasteful, but that we now wanted to be honest with her about the way we cared for each other. And that we each needed the other’s support in what might prove to be another difficult moment.