Michael Smith - Siblings

My bladder was finally running low, so – still playing the punishment game – I took two fistfuls of her wet, tangled hair and tugged her head further back. Not enough to hurt her, of course, but enough to create the illusion of threat and control. Her throaty whimper had a strong sensual edge and she didn't resist. As the last of my urine flowed through her dark red hair she shampooed it in, piling her hair up and wrapping it around my cock. A Freudian image if I ever saw one. The golden liquid ran in a sheet across her forehead and trickled off her tightly shut eyelids and the end of her nose and the tip of her chin.

When my supply ran out and I stepped back, she stood shakily, still rubbing my body fluids into her smooth skin. She picked up a washcloth and wiped only the area around her eyes and nose; from her lips down, she still glistened aromatically.

She pressed her body close to mine and rubbed herself against me. She pulled my mouth down and fastened hers to it in a long, slow lip-sucking kiss. The smell of my own fresh urine filled my nostrils; it was surprisingly erotic, at least under these circumstances. I found myself being pushed firmly to my knees and I slid my hands down her back, over the swell of her ass, and down the backs of her thighs.

When my head reached the level of her waist, she suddenly moved her hands to her pussy and spread and lifted its lips – and before I realized what she intended, a strong stream of her warm, fragrant piss splashed against my chest, ran down my body, and dribbled off my cock and my balls.

I sat back on my heels and looked up at my sister's grinning face… and began to laugh. We loved each other more than anything else in the world, and here we were, urinating on each other. Erotic it might be, but it was also pretty silly.

Alex began to laugh, too, and quickly ended on the floor of the shower, engulfed in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. The more we thought about what we were doing, the funnier it became, and the more we laughed. It took us a few minutes to run down, and then we were both under the hot shower, soaping and shampooing each other – but a glance at each other's faces and we were again whooping helplessly with laughter.

Soaping each other's bodies in the shower always made us feel close, physically and mentally, even when neither of us was really in need of a fuck. Many times, we simply held each other, took turns massaging shoulder and neck muscles, and cuddled. And that's how it turned out this afternoon. Neither of us was embarrassed by our earlier activities. Amused, yes, but we had long ago accepted each other in all things. So we kissed affectionately, and Alex nuzzled my throat with her nose, and I nibbled her earlobe.

Finally, I was leaning against the tile, my sister's arms linked loosely around my waist, her head resting on my collarbone. She sighed contentedly as I untangled her wet hair by combing my fingers through it. My cock was almost completely limp – that's how relaxed and happy and unhurried I felt. She looked up at me with a glowing smile.

"You put with a lot from me, don't you?"

I looked back into her green eyes and thought about how lucky I was. I combed her hair back behind her ears.

"Sometimes…" I hugged her again. "And I intend to continue putting up with you for many, many years. I wouldn't be worth a bucket of piss without you, Alex…" I had to work hard to keep my voice level as I said it.

Alex instantly cracked up with laughter and slapped the flat of her hand not too gently against my chest. Then she reached up and kissed me again, still laughing behind her lips.

"Michael – I love you so much! What would I have done if I were an only child? Life would be so lonely and boring,… especially in the shower!" she added.

Midway through my first year of graduate study at Berkeley, a paper I had submitted was accepted to be read at the June conference of the Western Social Sciences Association in San Diego. I was excited and Alex was happy for me, too; in our eyes, anything one of us did reflected equally on the other. But when June arrived, Alex had her hands full revising her senior thesis so she could graduate that summer, and I had to fly down alone. I've never sought out crowds, but neither do I particularly enjoy traveling by myself. If a place is worth visiting at all, it's probably an experience worth sharing with someone else. Well, what the hell, I could manage two days, I thought – but I wouldn't bother with the beach or Balboa Park.

A couple hours after leaving Oakland International, I stood near the end of a long, serpentine queue before the front desk of the conference hotel, trying to calculate how long it would be before I could relax in my room. An hour at least, maybe two. The line shifted a bit and I picked up my overnighter and my attache case, took one step forward, and set them down again. I sighed and let my vision drift out of focus, but a tinkling, elfin laugh just in front of me brought my attention back.

I had paid no attention to the girl ahead of me in line and I realized now it was partly because the top of her head barely reached my chin. I had looked right over her head and sighed practically in her ear!

As she turned and grinned up at me over her shoulder, her silky black hair, cut in a medium-length pageboy, shone with reflected light from the lobby chandeliers. Her face looked as smooth and flawless as translucent porcelain the shade of sandalwood or cinnamon. The longest, thickest lashes I had ever seen – I knew intuitively they were genuine – shaded a pair of black-brown elliptical eyes so hypnotically ancient and deep their twinkle seemed incongruous. Her small mouth was enhanced by brilliant red lipstick. She wore a straw-colored linen suit over a white silk blouse, both businesslike and alluring. I took in all this in less than a second.

"Maybe we'll have to sleep here in the lobby tonight," she laughed. Her voice was bell-like but included a nameless quality that I was sure would grab any man by the throat, the heart, and the balls, all at the same moment. No accent, either, so she wasn't an exchange student (I took it for granted, on no evidence at all, that this tiny beauty wouldn't be a faculty member somewhere.)

Without her two-inch heels I guessed she couldn't be taller than 4'10", but she was so properly proportioned that she seemed not short but doll-like. A cliche, I know, but even cliches are founded in truth. She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and tilted her head quizzically. I was suddenly aware of my loosely drooping jaw and the fact that I was staring down at her. I could feel the flush rising above my collar.

"Uh, yeah – I mean, they'll, uh… I'm sorry – I sound like an idiot." I swallowed and tried to regroup my scattered thoughts.

"Let me try again," I apologized. The twinkle in her eye was brighter; she*knows* she has this effect on men, I thought. "I think it's going to take another hour, at least, to get to the front of this line, and I don't think we're likely to lose our places." Only two other registrants stood behind us.

I made a joking half-bow. "Would you allow me to buy you a drink so we can wait this out in comfort?" Because it's unexpected, that sort of formality frequently gets a woman's attention.

"You've got a deal!" We parked our bags behind the velvet retaining rope at one side of the lobby, walked into the bar, and took a small table in the quieter area at the back. As I held her chair for her, I belatedly introduced myself.

She held out a small, elegantly manicured hand and I took it carefully. "I'm Connie Liang, University of Hawaii." Her palm was cool and satiny. I'm only a bit above average size, but this lady made me feel like a 280 lb. linebacker.