Michael Smith - Siblings

Admittedly, I helped, massaging her beautiful ass and rubbing the base of my cock against her clit. I backed her against the wall and shifted my hands to her thighs. Her legs parted and, with a little squirming and maneuvering, I was able to get my reinvigorated cock into a position where it suddenly slid up the channel into her cunt.

She sighed and tried to hold me even closer. Her right foot hooked behind my knee. I tried bending at the knees to get some friction started, but my sister was too close to my own height and too heavy to lift, especially in the slippery shower. I was only able to move an inch or so in and out of her and both of us were becoming frustrated.

Finally, she reached down and squeezed my balls and slid off of me. "Fuck me from behind, Michael," she said urgently.

She went quickly down on her hands and knees, facing away from the shower head. I immediately knelt behind her and spread her upper thighs with my hands. She angled her ass upward and her pussy showed itself invitingly. I slid my hand between her legs and grasped her whole crotch. She made a sound in the back of her throat and increased the angle of her spine even more.

I moved up closer and slid my fully erect cock smoothly into her yet again. Alex's head whipped back and a tremor traveled down her body. As I began plunging away, she contracted the muscles in her vagina in counterpoint. Soon, she was down on her elbows, bracing herself against the tile as I slammed into her. Her body was being jolted so much, I was afraid she might bang the top of her head against the wall. But when I tried to ease off a little, Alex only insisted, "No! Fuck me harder! Harder!"

I held onto her hips and when I squeezed, she moaned and gasped even louder. But the floor of the shower was slippery and so were we, and Alex's knees gradually slid out from under her. When it became obvious that she was going to wind up on the floor of the shower, I pushed into her as far as possible and settled her carefully, face down.

The hot water splashed off my back and my pubic hair was tickling her asshole. She twitched her buttocks against my belly as a signal to recommence our activities. I began fucking her again, hoping my cock wouldn't slip out, but that turned out not to be a problem. In fact, when she pressed her thighs together, with my legs on the outside, I discovered that the friction had improved – even with my sister's naturally snug cunt. It also was obvious that the friction against her clit had increased.

As I speeded up my strokes, shoving her whole body forward each time, she emitted little sobs of passion. She stretched her arms back and spread her hands along my sides, and I laid my full weight along her body, pulling her shoulders and arms back.

Though I didn't really think about it until later, there was a certain amount of domination/rape fantasy going on. I wouldn't have hurt Alex for anything, and she trusted me absolutely, which allowed her to at least pretend to give up some of her control, to be submissive in her fantasies. Whatever the case, we both got off on it.

As we speeded up again, I definitely began to feel that I was "using" her and my reaction to that was a bit uncertain, but Alex seemed to be enjoying herself enormously – this was our third time around this evening – and that knowledge kept me aroused.

Finally, as we began the climb to another orgasm, I moved one hand between our bodies so that my thumb insinuated itself between her buttocks and pressed against her rectum. I was taking a chance since I had no idea how my sister would react to ass-play. I wrapped my other hand in her hair and tugged back just enough to make her arch her neck.

My hesitancy was answered when she shivered under the hot shower and my hot body and her ass trembled. I slammed into her the last two times and ejaculated more heavily than I would have believed. At the same time, I pressed my thumb a half-inch into her rectum and twitched it from side to side. I pulled a little harder on her hair.

She stiffened and I thought I had gone too far. But then she took a deep breath, sighed loudly, and let her whole body relax, almost seeming to sink into the tile. Still lying on top of her, covering her body with mine, I felt I was both dominating and protecting her. I stroked her arms and flanks and kissed the back of her neck and her shoulders. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and just lie there.

Eventually, though, I levered my weight off her and climbed unsteadily to my feet. Now the water was splashing on Alex and she moaned a little and came back to the real world. She stood and we clung to each other without speaking. There was nothing more to be said that we hadn't already communicated with our bodies. My penis was sore and numb and her vagina was filled to the brim with my sperm, and the world seemed perfect to us.

We finished our shower – or, rather, we started over again – and dried each other lovingly, pausing for kisses which were filled with love and affection now, rather than raw passion. It was nearly 2:00 in the morning when we finally slid wearily into bed, naked, me spooning in behind her. One of my arms supported her head and the other wrapped itself around her torso. Alex sighed happily and wiggled back against me. I kissed the back of her head and murmured, "I love you…"

She stroked my arm a few times. "Oh, Michael, I love you, too…" We drifted off to sleep, stiff and tired and a little dazed, but happier and more content than we had ever been before.

Neither Alex nor I dated much our last two years in high school -except with each other. And though we often referred to going out together as a "date," we knew we weren't using the word in the ordinary way. This was precisely the period during which teenage hormones reach their frantic peak (as we both could attest), and most students dated a lot, whether they were going steady or playing the field.

When Alex was a junior, in 1972, she took a "special topics" course in social psychology. Searching for a term paper topic in the area of interpersonal relations, she naturally thought of our own relationship… but there wasn't much she could truthfully say about it without revealing The Secret.

Then one of her girlfriends providentially began to encourage her to "go out with boys" more often, and the dating process became her research subject. And in the course of her research, my sister decided that we really*weren't* dating other people enough. When she asked me what I thought, I agreed that we dated much less often than most of the kids we knew – but so what? They were still looking, but we had found each other.

Alex was perturbed at my complacency (her word). If we didn't date other people, she insisted, we would inevitably become bored with each other. We would be like "an old married couple" before we even got to college. We were limiting ourselves physically, as well. When was the last time I had gone out parking with a girl other than her? Well, she had me there; I hadn't even kissed another girl in months. However, the two of us had also shared many other wonderful experiences that were beyond the dreams – perhaps even the imaginations – of most of our friends.

I thought about it after Alex stomped off in exasperation. I understood the point she was making (sort of) but I wasn't sure why she thought it was important. Was she implying that she wanted to have sex with other guys? She had always been free to make out with or fuck whomever she pleased, and we both knew it. I was mercifully free of jealousy and always had been. Perhaps it was conceit, or simply the conviction that Alex loved me as I loved her. I was pretty adept at psychological compartmentalization, too.

For myself, I certainly didn't object to a sweaty make-out session with a nice- looking girl. What I objected to, or was impatient with, was all the preliminary rituals – the girl establishing her moral standards for the record, the boy protesting the Platonic innocence of his motives, the gradual ground-giving – before you could both get down to the heavy breathing and groping and fondling that you knew you were going to do anyway. It seemed hypocritical to me then, and it still does. A graceful, non-adversarial seduction, in which both parties participate but neither knows the result in advance, is much more satisfying.