Michael Smith - Siblings

I asked Marianne in a whisper if she would mind switching sides in the front seat so I could get out from behind the wheel; she pulled her knees up out of the way before I could even finish the question. I made sure to steady myself with a hand on her knee as I eased past her. I had barely resettled myself when Marianne's shoes were off and she had tucked her bare feet under her and pressed her thigh against mine.

I put my arm around her and she snuggled up happily with her head on my collarbone. She even reached up and stroked the hand that was dangling over her shoulder. She was sending a blizzard of signals, but I wanted to take things slowly. I was content for the moment to enjoy her warm body curled up against mine and to comb my fingers through her luxuriant hair. She felt so different from Alex – a novelty. I didn't know her, not in these circumstances, so anything she said or did would be pretty much unexpected. I discovered that made her even more interesting. Marianne would never hold a candle to Alex – I doubted anyone ever could – but perhaps my sister was right about our need for social variety.

After a few minutes, Marianne leaned her head back so she could speak softly in my ear. "Michael,… if I ask you something, will you promise not to think I'm being dumb?" I nodded. "We've known each other for more than a year, and we've worked in Journalism together for months now. And you've always been very polite and nice to me. But why did you call me up now, all of a sudden? I mean, I'm really glad you did, but you've never said anything to make me think…" She'd run out of explanation.

I thought again about Bill's reaction to Alex's call. Marianne wasn't particularly shy, but she wasn't a flirt, either. My fingertips lightly traced a line down her throat and she swallowed, as if my answer was important to her.

"I knew you were there all the time, you know. You're very pretty: How could I not know?" And as I said it, I knew it was true. "I know I don't date much, but that doesn't mean I don't notice girls. You're pretty, and you're smart, and you can spell – now."

She snorted a laugh. I had corrected the spelling in her articles until she caught on and began looking up words before submitting her stories.

"And I like you, Marianne. I wanted to get to know you better; I thought there were sides to you I didn't know about. Looking at you tonight, I'm sure of it! Besides," I added, burying my fingers in her hair, "I've wanted to do THIS for months!"

She smiled at me over her shoulder and reached up and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Michael, you're sweet." She took off her glasses, folded them, and set them carefully on the dash. Her eyes were light brown and gold, but they seemed much darker there in the car.

With one finger on her cheek, I guided her head around, bent down, and kissed her firmly on the lips. It took only a split-second for her to make up her mind to kiss me back. It only lasted a few seconds, though, and I was disappointed – until she swung around the other way so she could fit more comfortably in my lap and in my arms. Then she hooked herself around my neck and fastened her mouth to mine.

I responded to this delightful assault by putting my hands on her waist, where her shorts and shirt didn't quite meet. I slowly stroked her lower back, letting her call the shots and decide the pace. In fact, I was contemptuous of "grabbers"; such behavior was unsubtle, unfriendly, unromantic, and sometimes dangerous. I much preferred mutual seduction.

But with Marianne, I needn't have doubted. She surprised me again: Without losing her grip on my tongue, she reached smoothly under the back of her shirt, unhooked her bandeau bra, and tossed it on the floor. I realized just how carefully she, like Alex, had planned for contingencies. The bra was a barrier to balance the cropped shirt if she decided to keep our date merely on a friendly basis – but it also could be removed with a minimum of hassle if she decided otherwise. She had made her decision; she wanted my hands on her body, and I was certainly willing.

But still I restrained myself. We had plenty of time. I slid her shirt up as I ran my palms over her shoulderblades. She shivered and pressed her body against my chest and nibbled at my earlobe. She was relaxed and obviously felt secure and in control, which was what I wanted.

I peeked over Marianne's shoulder at the mirror again in curiosity. Alex and Bill had slumped down on the back seat. I could see Alex's hand clutching at the window ledge and the top of Bill's head was barely visible. From the sound effects, I guessed that his mouth was busy with her tits and that she was enjoying it. Couldn't let my sister get too far ahead of me, I thought.

I let Marianne lean back, moved my mouth down to her waist, and began kissing my way upward, pushing her shirt up out of the way as I progressed. She was moaning quietly under her breath and holding onto the back of my head, and when my mouth fastened on her nipples she dug her fingers into my hair. I knew intuitively that she wasn't very experienced at this, but I also understood that she wanted to be. She had decided it was time to jump off the cliff and I was the one she had selected to catch her. I was flattered, and I had sufficient ego to think she wouldn't be disappointed.

I reached up and tapped on the ceiling panel. "Bill? Alex? Why don't we fold down the back seat?"

Bill looked to Alex for confirmation and she nodded with a lustful twinkle. She already had her top off and her breasts jiggled invitingly; her skirt was hiked up to her crotch. Bill had already lost his shirt and had obviously entered into the spirit of the evening.

Marianne, still sitting in my lap, had begun to pull her tee shirt over her head, but when she saw the other two moving around she hurriedly pulled it back down again. I stopped her and smiled.

"Take it easy, Marianne. We're all friends here; no one's going to mind and no one's going to stare at you." My hands slipped under her shirt and I cupped her full breasts and rubbed my thumbs over her erect nipples. She closed her eyes and arched her back. Then she swallowed, smiled broadly, and removed her shirt.

While the two in the back were rearranging the car, I simply sat back and admired Marianne. She folded her hands behind her and perched there with her shoulders back and her lovely breasts outthrust, hair scattered in all directions. She smiled seductively from beneath her lashes. She knew it was an erotic pose. This sort of thing was so unlike her school persona, I almost wondered if she had a twin.

She got up on her knees straddling me, hand on the back of the seat for balance, and slowly and deliberately swung her breasts just above my face. The sounds in the back ceased for a moment. Alex said "Go get 'em, you guys!" and there was a throaty chuckle I knew well.

Marianne was not at all over-built, but her breasts were much larger than Alex's. Also unlike Alex, she had large soft areolae with small, hard button-like nipples in the center of each. I could not easily suck on her nipples, but I could take much more of her breast into my mouth. A very different experience. And those beautiful, conical masses swaying before me were very alluring – as was the fact that she was offering herself to me this way.

She didn't seem nervous or unsure of herself, but somehow I knew I was the first guy ever she had ever trusted like this. And I did my part, too. I practically inhaled her tits, chewing very gently and curling my tongue around her little nipples while squeezing the soft flesh I couldn't fit into my mouth. Marianne's body was trembling and her pelvis was grinding slowly against my groin. My shirt had somehow become unbuttoned. I shrugged it off as Marianne sat back on my knees again, running her hands slowly across my chest and looking at me with those dark, glowing eyes.