A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Ch 04

This story is becoming longer than I had expected. I didn't know how inventive Vicky and Milt (that's his name) would be. They just can't stop. Can't blame them. Now they are in the kitchen, waiting for the oven to heat up.

She shook her head and then nodded, with a less innocent smile. We had another sip of beer, and I remembered the conversation at lunch and told her. She chuckled, enjoying it. When I asked for her suggestions of what else I could tell, she grinned with a hum and replied:

"Oooh, lots of possibilities; let me think."

We had another sip, then she grinned again and said:

"Well, next Monday, you could make it more interesting: saw a girl forget that her top was unfastened, when she sat up; that the cup of one swimming – you know, a type of top that is just two triangles and strings – that one cup slipped aside. Of course, if it rains, you won't have gone to the pool. Any of them go there?"

"Hmm! They might, if I make up stories like that."

"Hm-hmm! We could go on the weekend, can't do much else, and we could make it interesting. No one else from school in the crew, who would know me?"

"Nope. How are we going to make it interesting?"

"Well, if you're too shy to talk to a girl you don't know, I could be there, and you could ask if you could put your towel near mine."

"And you would let me talk to you?" I asked facetiously.

"Maybe, if you don't start by telling me that you like my bikini and what's in it."

"Even if I do?" I asked with a grin, staring at her breasts.

She reached up and ran her finger around one of her erect nipple, grinning.

"And then?" I asked.

"I'd ask you to put lotion on my back."

"With your top open? I could help you with that."

"Not unless I asked you to."

"I hope so, and then you can sit up, just a little, so just I can see."

"Maybe you should just get up your nerve and try it with another girl."

"Have to find one with breasts like yours."

"If you see one, you don't have to chat me up."

"And see some other guy come along and talk to you?"

"Oh! That's a problem: probably kids there who know us."

"So much for that idea, but we could go to the pool, if the sun shines."

"Um-hmm, if you don't think about where we'd rather be, and it showed."

"Like on the patio?"

"Um-hmmmm! I wouldn't mind, but anyone who knew us would get the wrong idea."

"More like the right idea."

"Um-hmm!"

She grinned with a nod, and we drank again. I chuckled with a grin and suggested:

"If they ask at work, maybe I'll just say that I didn't do anything special, just 'fucking around' with my sister."

"You'd better not! Besides, that would be lying, this coming weekend."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that! We just didn't do anything worth mentioning."

"Whatever we do, it won't be worth mentioning, won't be mentionable."

We drank to that with nods and grins, finishing our beers. She asked if there was anything in the mail, implying that we leave the kitchen. There hadn't been, but we went to the living room, and shared the newspaper again. We both read all the sections, exchanging them. I more just glanced through the ones she had been reading first.

From all our talk, it was obvious that we were going to do something, probably in the kitchen again. What? Was she wondering, too? Apparently, we were both taking our time with the paper, not sure about how to begin. It just had to happen – somehow. We couldn't just say: let's fuck. That recognition just made it more tantalizing to wait to discover how it would happen.

I was only looking at the pictures on the fashion pages, thinking models were too skinny, skinny thighs. I didn't like how I imagined their skinny thighs must look up by their pussies. How did skinny girls' pussies look? Photos of them in swimwear showed that they had bony hips and not the nice swelling between their legs that my sister had. Guys had joked about "the meat being sweeter closer to the bone." I had smirked with the others, not really understanding, but now I did. I liked the way my sister's pussy curved out between the top of her thighs, and I thought now that I probably knew more about how a pussy tasted than the couple of guys who showed off with such remarks.

My sister tossed the financial section aside, and I glanced up. Had her thighs clenched together? Those skinny models didn't look theirs could. My cock was a little bigger than it should have been from my perusing the paper, even with my last thoughts. Her thighs did twitch! She was smirking at me slightly. We knew each other too well now; if her thighs had twitched, and she was smirking, their twitching had been intentional – all the better! My cock wasn't big enough for her thighs to twitch at her seeing it. Hadn't been, maybe it was now! It felt like it. I couldn't see it, looking over the paper at her and returning her smirk. We both hummed, and I flung the section with the fashion pages aside. We grinned at each other. Her thighs twitched again and she remarked:

"Hoped that would work."

"It did. I've been wondering, didn't want to say anything."

"Me neither. Time to start to heat up the oven?"

"If you want to?"

"Hmmm! Want to what?"

"Heat up your oven."

"I think it is already."

We grinned, snickering, and almost hurried to the kitchen. She quickly turned on the oven and set the timer, and turned to me with grin. The word came to me, a "'lecherous" grin; her nipples as aroused as they could be. I hoped my grin looked equally lecherous, suddenly wondering if the word had anything to do with licking; it sounded like it. [author: it does]

I didn't have to glance down to know that my cock was looking like it wanted to be licked, and her nipples did too. My attempt at a lecherous grin must have been good - or maybe just the sight of my rising cock was. Her eyes shifted up from it to my eyes and back down to it again. She looked back up with questioning expression. Couldn't she say what we both wanted to do, at least, ask me?

I didn't want to ask her outright to suck my cock, as much as I wanted her to. She circled her stiff nipples with a finger of each hand and moaned softly with an aroused expression. Finally, I suggested softly, trying to be indirect:

"I could sit on the table, and you could sit on a chair."

She nodded, her lecherous grin returning, humming, and replied:

"Sit on the counter. Then I'll sit on the table."

Finally! But I liked that neither of us had wanted to be too direct. As I pushed my hips over the edge of the counter, while she grabbed the nearest chair, I understood her suggestion better: my cock was going to be just the right height for her to suck. She certainly wasn't going to be able to enjoy starting when it was small and soft. And, if she wanted to suck one of my balls again, that was going to be much easier, and if that didn't occur to her, then, with my cock in her mouth, I would have no hesitation to suggest it. We had just been a little diffident about wanting to say how we wanted to start.

She had turned the chair to face me and sat down. Yes, my cock was almost the perfect height for her to suck! But she didn't yet, looking up at me with smile and murmuring:

"How did you know this was what I wanted to do?

"I asked him," I replied with a grin, making him twitch.

She chuckled, returning my grin. Oooh, nice, her fingers were jostling my balls. Maybe I wouldn't have to suggest she suck one - or both. She leaned down and licked up the back of my cock. She had never done that before. My cock twitched away from her tongue, when it reached my most sensitive spot. She chuckled and made it twitch again, and again, then finally grasped it and pulled it down. I moaned before it was really in her mouth, and then had to moan again.

Maybe this was too arousing; we hadn't done anything for so long, longer than ever before. My cock was twitching and surging in her mouth, as she licked and sucked, and her fingers were just rubbing my sack. So tight already!

"Balls," I muttered, hoping for relief for my cock.

She nodded and raised her head. Yeah, my cock was already oozing clear liquid. She had to massage my sack for a while to loosen it. I found the sides of the chair with my feet, and pressed them against her thighs to let them rest on the seat. When I wiped up the liquid and tasted it, she nodded with little smile. She also liked how it tasted. She licked the back of the head of my cock, and licked up the next drop that oozed out.

Then my sack was slack enough for her suck one of my balls. Not as loose as it could have been; she really had to push it into her mouth, but then we both hummed, and she sucked and could close her mouth around it. She "had me by my balls," one of them, and it felt so good! The expression was definitely not about this, feeling her sucking and licking it! I wiped another drop off the head of my cock, then thinking that this was being a little unfair, making her wait until I could lick her pussy. I moved my toes against her to suggest she return to sucking my cock. As much as I enjoyed the arousing anticipation before I came, it was unfair to keep her waiting for hers.

She let my ball pop from her mouth and grinned up at me. I nodded, glancing down at my cock, and wiggled my toes again. She nodded with a chuckle and grasped my ankle, urging me to raise my foot. When I did, she chuckled again and spread her thighs and moved my foot down between them. I nodded, understanding, and she rocked her hips back and shoved my toes under her pussy. I wiggled them again, and she nodded with a grin, and then my cock was back in her mouth.

I had discovered that my toes curled, when I was about to have an orgasm, but this was going to be difficult to coordinate, if she expected me to try to wiggle them against her pussy, while she was sucking my cock.

I tried, and she sucked and licked my cock as though she were in hurry to feel my orgasm spurt in her throat. We were in complete agreement about that, and sitting on the counter, when I felt it coming, the rocking of my hips didn't thrust my cock too deep in her mouth.

She was groaning with me in anticipation. When I grunted and came, she groaned, and her hips rocked down on my curled toes, and we both moaned each time my cock spurted again in her mouth.

"Save it!" I demanded softly, when she was sloshing it around in her mouth, pleased that I had remembered that she had said that she wanted to let me taste it. She hummed with a nod, and immediately raised her head, looking up me with what could only be cock-sucking grin, her lips tightly clenched together. She stood up, and I slipped down off the counter. We kissed.

That's how it tasted. If she liked it, I did too, couldn't help not liking it, if she sucked my cock so good and wanted it. She retrieved her tongue and sort of growled, then demanding:

"Now me, on the table."

She didn't wait for me to help her up on it, spreading and drawing her thighs up, exposing her already glistening pussy. Sitting on the chair was going to be too high for me to lick it. I almost tossed the chair aside and dropped to my knees. Even if I had liked the taste of what she had shared with me, her pussy was going to taste better.

She dropped back on her elbows with a moan, as I did. A pussy must offer more variety than a cock for an eager tongue. She moaned, as my tongue explored the possibilities. Now that she knew she was going to get hers, she couldn't be in a hurry for it, would also want to enjoy the anticipation. Even if she had enjoyed sucking my ball as much as I had, it couldn't taste as good as everywhere my tongue was, and especially not there where she was most wet. She moaned, as though she were agreeing with me, and dropped down on her back on the table, her hips rolling up. That wasn't suggesting that I should lick there, where I now knew she would want me to, to have her orgasm.

Oooh, she was drawing her thighs further back, turning her hips up even more. My tongue slipped down from her so wet opening. Funny, there was a little ridge of skin there. Was that how it felt for her tongue, when it rubbed on the back of the head of my cock? And she liked that my tongue was, chuckling. Did she know about the little ridge, and make the connection that I had, or did it just feel good? As good as when she licked mine?

Hnn? She had suddenly drawn her knees right down by her shoulders, so quickly that my tongue slipped lower, when her hips rocked even further up. It almost touched her there, where she liked me to rub her with my fingers. Was that intentional? It was! She murmured:

"Lick, there."

My lecherous sister wanted me to do that?! If she did? Why not? I had seen it and thought it didn't look nasty – kind of cute – and I had washed it. Why not? It was going to be funny to feel it move when my tongue licked it.

It did; it was, and she moaned with a chuckle. Of course, she knew it would feel good, and could only be pleased that I did what she wanted. And I liked it too, feeling it contracting under the tip of my tongue. Sweet little asshole; it liked that, wanted the tip of my tongue to probe. It did. She moaned. She liked it too: she and her asshole and the tip of my tongue, all of us.

Was this in the book, or had we discovered it by ourselves? My tongue probe. She moaned again. Shit! Well, not shit, but it was wanting to it to probe more, her clean, little asshole wanting to squeeze the tip of my tongue! And she moaned again. When did she want me to stop, want me to lick and suck on her little pearl?

Oh! Something else was moving. I opened my eyes. Her fingers were rubbing over it! And how! As fast as they could. She couldn't wait for me to do that? She wanted it both places? Well, of course, she had wanted me to rub her when we had fuck and and last night, when we both had rubbed, more, had our fingers in each other. Did her asshole want the tip of my cock in it? And when it contracted, her aroused pussy did. She wanted to have her orgasm this way? If she wanted to!

She did, the way she was moaning, then gasping and moaning, and her hips twitching. If I recognized the signs, she was going to. I opened my mouth wide to keep my tongue where she wanted to feel it, and my upper lip past the mouth of her vagina, hoping I could catch her pussy juice in my mouth.

I did. God, it really spurted, my mouth full of it! My tongue forgot what it was supposed to be doing, drawing back in my mouth, when I had to swallow, but from her aroused sounds, she didn't mind. Her so busy fingers stilled, and she gasped and moaned, pulsing moans, almost sounding like she was chuckling. She could have been; we had done something we hadn't expected, and it had been so good for her.

I hope she also wanted me to fuck her, like that time before. My cock did. Without waiting for her to recover, I stood up and plunge it in her pussy.

She gasped, and her eyes popped wide open. She looked totally surprised, shocked, as though she didn't know what was happening, gasping again, as my cock pumped in her so wet, tight pussy. It did a couple of times more, because I was fucking her as hard and fast as I could, before her still shocked expression made me think that it had been a mistake not to wait for her to ask me to. Too late, I was already, the slave of my cock! She gasped again, still with wide eyes, and again, and then her hips rocked up to meet my thrusts. Her thighs drew back, and she grasped them below her knees, and I grasped them at her hips. I wasn't going to stop fucking, couldn't!

Then she moaned between her gasps, almost growling, and suddenly exclaimed:

"Oh God! Yes!" and her pussy juice was flooding my pubic hair and running down warm on my thighs, as her pussy clenched my cock, as though it didn't want it to move. But it did, throbbing, and then I had to grunt. Fuck! I was coming already, had come!

I held my hips to hers, feeling her pussy make my cock twitch. Her face was flushed. I felt her pussy juice sliding down to my knees. Her gasps and moans became softer. She gave me tired smile, nodding slightly, and released her hold on her thighs. When they began to drop down, I caught them on my forearms. She nodded again, this time with a wry smile, and murmured:

"Shit! I was expecting that, well, not so soon."

"Sorry. You looked like you didn't know what was happening."

"I didn't. Well, of course, I did, but I didn't know I wanted it again so soon.

"I didn't either, but you did."

"And how! You did too?"

"Um-hmm, sooner than I want to. No, just sooner than I expected."

I smiled to confirm that I wasn't disappointed that I had come so soon, feeling that my cock was relaxing. She must have too; she snorted and squeezed it. Then she chuckled with a smirk and said: "Before I drip, if you want to."

I nodded, smirking, understanding what she was suggesting. She drew her thighs up to relieve me from having to support them. I pulled my cock and dropped to my knees as fast as I could. I missed the first drip, but caught the rest with my tongue, tasting us both. When my tongue began to lick in the hope of tasting more, she chuckled and protected her little swelling with her fingers to keep it from licking there too. We both chuckled, and I raised my head, smiling at her as I licked my lips. She grinned at me and reached out her arms, suggesting that I help her sit up.

I stood up and did. Her hips almost slipped off the table. I caught her in my arms, and we embraced and kissed. She chuckled and remarked:

"You've been licking pussy."

"And not just tasting pussy."

"Um-hmm!"

The timer rang, surprising us for a moment, but then she grinned and said:

"I wasn't saved by the bell this time," a reference to our conversation in the kitchen the previous evening.

"No! You didn't really want to be and stay a virgin?"

"Hm-hm-hmmm! Not after I know how good it is not to be one!"

She kissed me again. We separated, and she turned to the sink and got the dishcloth again and wipe her pussy, then glanced at the table, seeing that it was wet. She tossed the washcloth at the spot and started to put the TV dinners in the oven. I wiped the table and the floor. When she saw me wiping up the insides of my thighs, she chuckled, and then chuckled again, when I draped my cock and balls over the edge of the sink. While I was rinsing the dishcloth, I felt the urge to go and began to pee in the sink. When she noticed with a surprised expression, she remarked:

"Oh, I guess so. Now I have to, too."

She had finished putting the TV dinners in the oven and hurried off, while I washed my cock and balls, snickering as I used the hand towel to dry them. She returned and remembered to reset the timer. We smirked at each other. I suggested another beer, and we remembered that we had left the first ones in the living room. We got them and easily emptied the little that was still in them. Back in the kitchen, we got fresh ones, raising them in a silent toast before we drank. I grinned and said:

"Since it's too late to continue speculating about what could have happened last night in your short shorts, when you were saved by the bell, ..."

She interrupted me with a grin:

"Damned bell! In my wet short shorts, I'd have let you do anything you wanted."

"Hmm! In them? They were too tight to do anything in them."

"We were about to take them off."

"Still wouldn't have known what to do, well, rub, of course. Maybe I would have dared to put a finger in your pussy."

"I wouldn't have stopped you, wanted you to."

"But if I hadn't dared, you wouldn't have asked me to?"

"Oh no! Hmm! But I was holding your cock by then."

"Oh, yeah, and I was wishing it was back in my pants, with your hand, of course. Wouldn't be the first time I came in my shorts."