Michael Smith: Siblings

"And she knew you'd react like this! She said to tell you to remember 'the station wagon at the drive-in'… whatever that means. But she knows how much San Diego meant to both of us and she wants us to get reacquainted, she really does. I don't understand why you haven't married that girl, Michael!"

I couldn't answer that one, not truthfully, so I kissed her instead. It took a long time to finish and it still wasn't long enough. Then Connie sat up and pulled the shirt off over her head. Her small, perfect breasts were as lovely as I remembered, her belly still concave, her skin still smooth and soft with flat athletic muscles rippling beneath.

She pulled the sheet off me and lay down again and I turned onto my side to face her, letting the palm of my hand glide down to her waist, over the gentle swell of her hip, and along her perfect thigh. She moved even closer to me, lying on my arm, nuzzling her head under my chin and raking those nails lightly across my chest. When I moved my hand around to cup one buttock, she shivered and made a little sound in her throat. Her hands glided down my body and found my cock, already half-erect and twitching. She curled one hand around the shaft, squeezing a little, and cupped my balls with the other.

Strangely, I wanted only to prolong this tender foreplay. Neither of us was going anywhere for awhile and I felt entirely at peace. If it was possible to love another woman even half as much as I loved my sister, and at the same time, then Connie was the object of that love.

I was sure now that Alex must have some inkling of how my affection for this little Aphrodite had grown during the past year, and that she was pleased, rather than threatened by it. Connie would never do anything to disturb what Alex and I had; I was now quite certain of that.

But it still felt a little strange, perhaps because I loved Alex so deeply both as a woman and as my sister. Connie wasn't someone I had grown up with; I had met her fully matured, sexually and intellectually, and I was still discovering marvelous things about her. If ever it came to a choice between the two of them, Alexandra was the only contender… but if there was any fairness in the world at all, that would never happen.

After awhile, my trapped hand wrapped itself in that long, thick hair as my other fingers brushed through the small, silky triangle above her cunt. She bent her knee to give me access and rubbed the head of my penis slowly across her breastbone. Her nipples had hardened and were drilling into my ribs.

I eased one finger into her cleft and down the shaft of her clitoris, finally plucking the center of her like a guitar string. She jerked a little and gasped, and then laughed silently into my throat. Her thumb rubbed across the opening in my cock, in retaliation.

I removed my hand and eased her onto her back, and she spread her legs for me and stared deep into my eyes. I stared back, nose to nose, and marveled at what I saw there. I painted her lips with my tongue and kissed her again as I gradually entered her.

We took our time, as we had with our foreplay, moving slowly with each other, shifting position slightly to create the maximum friction. Her knees flexed and moved up and down the sides of my ribs while her hands wandered across my back. I kissed her long eyelashes and her cheekbones and the tip of her nose… and she mimicked every move.

Then she gradually increased the tempo of our lovemaking, locking her ankles high on my back and urging me to thrust as deeply into her as I could. Several times, I could feel my climax building and I deliberately slowed my pace just enough to prolong the pleasure. I could tell by the changes in her breathing that Connie was also holding herself back at each plateau. We were both sweating freely now, but I felt like I could continue this exquisite experience forever.

Finally, after what must have been thirty minutes of continual motion, I could stand it no longer and I began thrusting more rapidly. Connie hugged herself to me and bent her head back, hair sprawling above her face. Neither of us made much sound, not tonight; it simply wasn't needed.

And when I jerked hard against her several times and came in a blinding rush, she strained against me so that I felt the tremors rippling through her body. We froze in position for perhaps ten seconds, holding our breaths, savoring the perfection of the moment.

Then, finally, I eased my weight down, trying not to smother her. She let her knees splay to the sides as she gulped deep breaths. Her hands moved to my head and her fingers combed shakily through my hair. My cock was still buried in her and neither of us was in a hurry to remove it. Her lower body jerked in reaction to my post-orgasmic spasms and she laughed quietly.

"Michael," she whispered huskily, "do you remember what I said before about love? How I was kind of afraid of it?" I looked down at her as she licked her lips in hesitation.

"Maybe I shouldn't say this – maybe I have no right to, with Alex in the other room – but I can't help it anymore. I think I love you. I mean, I love what we have together. I guess that includes both of you, doesn't it? I wouldn't have thought I could share a guy with another woman and be glad of it, but I think that's what I really mean. Oh, I don't really know*what* I mean…"

She seemed genuinely puzzled and I had no idea what to say. Could I possibly be this lucky? Or was it selfishness? Jesus. What I felt for Connie was stronger than ever, and not just because my cock was still inside her. Maybe what I felt was love, too. But it was a different sort of love than my deep devotion to Alex. But that didn't make my feelings for Connie any less strong. But, but, but…

I carefully withdrew from her and caressed her face and smoothed her hair. "Connie, if it's really possible to love more than one person at a time -*really* love – then I think I'm in love with you, too. I don't know. I know that the feelings I have for you are stronger than I've ever felt for anyone except my – except Alex." My near slip decided me: I had to tell her what she was getting herself into.

"There's something you have to know, Connie, something about Alex and me that no one else has ever known…" I swallowed hard. All my carefully developed reflexes fought against divulging what I had to say. But Connie smiled that warm smile and again put her finger to my lips.

"I think I know what you're leading up to. When I called to tell you about this trip, I'm afraid I discovered I had misplaced your phone number. But I had your address, from your letters. So I called Information and gave them the last name and the street address – and the operator said he had*two* listings for that name at that address, "Michael" and "Alexandra," and which did I want? Then he corrected himself and said it was actually the same phone number, so it didn't matter." She gave me a searching look.

"I could only think of two explanations. One was that you were married and hadn't told me. But I knew you too well, by then, to think you'd ever cheat on me, much less on your wife. And you said once that you'd known her 'all your life'. The other explanation…" Then she paused, wondering again if she was correct in her conclusion, not wanting to shock me if she was wrong. I saved her the worry.

"You're right, Connie: Alex and I are brother and sister. It's The Secret." I pronounced the capital letters. "It's been very hard for us the past ten years, getting used to the idea of being in love and keeping everyone else unaware of it." I sighed, relieved that she knew. "Does the fact that you figured it out and you're here anyway mean you aren't, uh, revolted…?"

"You forget, I'm an anthropologist by profession. I imagine I can accept almost any manifestation of love that two people can find for themselves. Look at me, here with you! No, I'm not 'revolted'. I'm even a little surprised to find that I'm not particularly bothered by it. Theory and practice can be very different." This conversation was becoming oddly scholarly, considering the circumstances.