My Sister Jean
Chapter 14 - Billy's Rationalization
The frogs in the pond behind our house were giving up
their last cacophony in the early morning light. Dictated
by my biologic clock I suppose, I was awake early even
though Jean and I had spent an intense little while on the
phone with each other late the night before. As was my
custom, I sleep in the nude and often awoke with an
unconscious "tent pole" under the sheets. With my eyes
closed and hands clasped behind my head, I was reviewing the
latent imagery of the night before, of the phone sex I'd had
with Jean, luxuriating in the deliciousness of it all.
God, I loved that woman! The feeling washed over me
with an intensity that left me short of breath. I loved her
wit and her spontaneity, her seriousness and gravity, her
daffiness and heaven knows, her sensuousness. Yet I was
uncertain. We'd agreed not to "do it," but I wasn't at all
clear just what that meant. Jean spoke repeatedly of "the
incest thing." Just what *was* the incest thing anyway?
Was it talking about sex? I thought not. Then was it
touching? Well, we'd certainly touched on a couple of
occasions and neither of us appeared to be troubled, much
less traumatized by the experience, so I thought that wasn't
it.
If she sucked my dick once, was *that* incest? How
about when I fingered her pussy? To climax? Now, was that
incest? Shit! I didn't know and it bothered me, a
niggling, unresolved burr of an issue.
I don't know about you, but I've got several voices in
my head that think they know everything. And they're all
loud, even strident. Usually they sit on the head of my bed
and start up first thing in the morning. "Oh good, you're
awake. Let me tell you a few things." They're rarely kind
and understanding; mostly they're full of fear and
negativity, except those that are lazy and just want to go
to the beach. Sometimes I feel like I'm in a car pool when
I'm all alone. I can argue both sides of any given issue
and worse, I lose nine times out of ten!
Is it solely the emotional fallout of putting my dick
in Jean's pussy? Is that what she's fearful of? Cripes,
I've been *there* a hundred times in my mind. I've screwed
that girl so many times in my head, the emotional fallout is
mostly that it's *only* been there... in my head! Or is it
that she's afraid she'll get pregnant? Yeah, that'd be
tough. I mean, how many girls get knocked up by their
brother? I'll have to ask her about this, I thought.
In the middle of this intellectual discussion I was
having with myself, I was startled when something soft
touched my face! My eyes snapped open and saw for a second
only a hazy light until I scrabbled away a pair of panties
that'd been dropped across my eyes and nose.
Jean laughed, "Wake up, sleepy head. I promised you
these panties." Then looking away in mock embarrassment,
she added, "Geez, they're ripe! Hope you *really* wanted
em."
I inhaled deeply, pulling the aromatic essence of her
into my head and simply said, "YES!" She'd kept her
promise.
Nodding toward the tent pole, she asked, "Did I cause
that?"
Nodding, "Mostly. I wake up with a woody every
morning," and then looking down at myself in wonder, I
added, "but this one is particularly urgent. And yes, I
*was* thinking of you...of last night...of what we did.
God, I loved it! I just can't believe the power of phone
sex for cryin' out loud!"
Jean smiled and nodded, just looking at me. The least
I could do was return the scrutiny. The morning light was
soft, filtering through the giant redwood behind the house,
to the east of us and it cast a warm, luminous glow. She
was wearing a short wrap-around skirt and a T-shirt that
didn't even begin to disguise her prominent nipples. Once
again, out of character, Jean wasn't wearing a bra.
Her eyes dropped to the tented sheet and she gestured
with an open palm as if to ask, "What, pray tell, is that?"
Then, remembering a little ditty that Jean had read to
me years before, I recited,
"The tent pole's up, the canvas is spread. To hell
with breakfast, come on back to bed."
She giggled and continued,
"Take the tent pole down, put the canvas away.
Monkey had a hemorrhage; there'll be no circus today."
Still chuckling, she said, "Just kidding, just
kidding," and sat on the edge of the bed facing me, with one
leg bent on the bed and the other on the floor, partly
opening her thighs. Of course, my eyes darted right to the
darkened space under her short skirt, hoping to see . . .
well, anything.
"You never give up, do you? What are expecting to
see?"
"Not expecting...just hoping."
"Billy, you've seen my legs hundreds and hundreds of
times. What's the attraction?"
"Don't really understand it, girl, but it's strong.
You thrill me. More and more, you thrill me. I'm just taken
with you. You know that!"
Jean placed her hand on the sheet on top of my thigh
and said softly, "Yes, Billy, I *do* know that and I want to
tell you again, I feel the same way. And I'll tell you this
again...usually, it's very scary!"
"I've been thinking about that. About why it's scary
for you, I mean," letting my hand fall to her left knee.
Her skirt had pulled up and open a little and I could see
the fine, blond hairs on her thigh.
She glanced at my hand, smiled and asked, "Tell me,
buster. What do you know that I don't? Most of my feelings
are just that... feelings. Not based on my intellect, just
on my gut."
Trailing my fingertips over the inside of her knee, I
looked up at her and continued, "Well, I've been trying to
define "incest" in the last little while -- an operational
definition if you will -- and I've decided that for us, it's
not "talking" and it's not "touching" and it's not
"sucking." Know what I mean?"
Jean, looking puzzled, slid onto the side of the bed
another few inches, opening up her thighs a little more. I
looked again. Still too dark, but now more inner thigh
visible..
"If you mean that we've done those things and we're
still okay, then I *do* know what you mean. But I'm still
afraid."
Still trailing my fingertips on the inside of her
thigh, I continued, "Yeah. But I think it's not so much
what we've done. I don't think it -- incest that is -- has
a lot to do with putting my dick in your pussy."
Jean's eyes widened and her pupils dilated with that
phrase. She sucked in her breath but didn't speak. For all
her candidness, she remained unaccustomed to such specific
and graphic talk.
Again, nudging her thigh to keep her attention, I went
on, "No. For us...for you...incest isn't about fucking."
Again, the little gasp. In a softer voice I added, "I think
your fear of incest is about getting pregnant," and then
fell silent.
She exploded, "Cripes, Billy! Pregnant! By you?
Where in heck did *that* notion come from? That's silly.
That's goofy, you know that?" She barked a nervous laugh
and moved her leg again. This time I caught a fleeting
glimpse of the crotch of her dark panties. The scent of her
used panties was fresh in my mind and I again experienced a
strong urge to bury my head between her legs.
"Okay, I know it's goofy, but stay with me a minute.
Tell me, IF we actually did it...if we actually, you know,
fucked...how would you feel? Inside, I mean. How'd you
feel?"
"Scared. I told you that," she answered, nervously
plucking at her skirt, picking it up and then dropping it.
I kept my eyes on hers.
"Okay, sure," I agreed, "scared but not turned off.
Stay with me a little longer. How'd you feel if you got
pregnant? By me?" I added pointlessly.
"Devastated. Just devastated...I'd simply just die."
Then she added with a wry smile, "Aside from that, fine.
Where is this going, anyway?"
"Wanna have kids someday, Jean?"
"You know I do, Billy. SOMEday."
I wiggled down in the bed a little, both to give me a
better view under her skirt and that I might be able to
reach farther up on her thigh. "Well, that's what I think is
going on. It's not us screwing that scares you. It's
getting pregnant. One part of you wants to get
pregnant...someday, and another part of you is frightened,
scared witless that it would be ME that did it."
"Let me get this straight...let me tell you what I
think you've said. You think that it's not the actual,
uh...doin' it, that I'm afraid of?"
"Right," I assured her, touching the inside of her
thigh, well up under her skirt. I wondered if she, like me,
had two thoughts running at the same time, one on the topic
and the other on touching her?
"That it's getting pregnant by you that I'm really
afraid of?"
"Yeah, exactly, Sis. Hell, we've done almost
everything and haven't suffered any psychological
consequences. Actually, we're closer than ever. We really
love and CARE for each other, more now than ever."
Jean smiled and said, "Well, you *may* have something
there. It "feels" all right. At least it doesn't feel
*bad*. Not right now anyhow."
"Just sit with it, Sis. You don't have to buy it right
now... or ever. Just let it percolate. We'll talk about it
later, okay?"
"Whew! Yes, later," she answered, visibly relaxing.
Then, as if noticing for the first time, she stared at the
lump of my hand beneath her skirt, creeping toward her body.
"Yes?" she asked, lifting one eye brow.
Reaching down with my free hand, I covered hers, still
on my thigh, almost touching my cock, and reasoned, "Your
fault," nodding to her hand so close to my hard-on.
Surprised, she yanked her hand back and exclaimed,
"Yikes!" And then, almost as quickly, laughed and ran the
palm of her hand up my thigh, again brushing against my
erect cock murmuring something like, "Geez, you are *always*
horny, aren't you?"
That rhetorical question didn't need an answer. The
lawyers have an expression for it, something like "res ipsa
loquitur" or "the thing speaks for itself." Instead, I
turned my body slightly into her leg, pushing my hard cock
to her hand and, at the same time, running my hand up to her
crotch. What? No panties! I touched the fur of her sex
between the warm softness of her inner thighs, not the
crotch of her panties as I'd anticipated. A thrill shot
through me.
Jean suddenly beamed, "That's right, big boy. No
panties. I gave them to you. Just *me* there," and she
leaned forward, laying her head on my chest, now blatantly
holding my cock through the sheet.
"Lie beside me for a moment, won't you Jean?" I asked,
making room for her on the bed. I smiled to myself,
thinking of the expression that promised, "I'll only put it
in a little way."
"Only a moment," she whispered, turning her body and
sliding down beside me, one leg thrown over my thigh,
opening her crotch to my hand.
I cupped her furry mons softly in one hand while
cradling her head with my other, whispering, "Jean, thanks
for last night. It was awesome. I can't believe how hot it
was, being sexual with you... even at long distance."
She ran her hand down my forearm, I thought perhaps to
pull my hand from her crotch, but she surprised me. She
curved her hand around mine and with her index finger,
pushed my middle finger into the pulpy wetness of her pussy
slit, arching her pelvis into my hand. Her pussy was
sopping and swollen and once again, I experienced the
extraordinary thrill of feeling my finger slide into the
heat of my sister's cunt.
"Yes, Billy...yes. Touch me. Feel me. Feel my
wetness." Wiggling closer to me, she continued, "I'm melting
inside. This is *so* sweet."
As I slid my finger slowly in and out of her pussy, she
rocked her hips against me, still pushing my hand against
her sex, now grunting a little with each thrust.
"I wanted this so much last night, Billy. After we
hung up, I masturbated...it seemed like hours. I came and
then came again. I kept coming until...I guess I just
passed out. God I was horny!"
"Was?"
"*Am*, you jerk! Am horny." And then she murmured
something so soft I couldn't make it out.
"What? What'd you say, girl? Can't hear you."
She murmured again, slightly louder but all I could
hear was "finger..." something or another.
Running my tongue into her ear, I again whispered,
"What babe? What'd you say? Tell me what you want. Say it
out loud."
Then, as if we were in a crowded room and she wanted
only me to hear, she put her hand to her cheek and whispered
in my ear, "Finger . . . finger fuck me, Billy. Please, I
need it."
"Yes-s-s," I hissed, cupping her sex in the palm of my
hand, my middle finger curling up under her pelvic bone,
searching for her G-spot.
As she grunted her pleasure, she began writhing on the
bed, hunching against my hand, rubbing her body against
mine. I could feel the fullness of her breasts as her torso
twisted against me. Pulling back to free myself from her
leg, I threw my right leg over her body as she turned, first
into me and then prone, continuing to hunch against the
sheets.
I ran my hand down over her buttocks, catching the hem
of her skirt and pulling it up to her waist as she lifted
up, freeing the front of it. I palmed her butt in my hand
and whispered, "Christ Jean, I love feeling your ass."
"Oh, Billy! Don't stop touching me. I'm so itchy in
there. I *need* you there."
Pulling myself up a bit, I ran my hand between her legs
from the back, feeling the swollen and open pussy lips. She
moaned and pushed her hips back to meet me as I slipped the
thumb of my right hand into her pussy, cupping her mons and
clit with my fingers, slowly rocking.
"Yes! Right there. Right *there*!" she exclaimed with
an explosive deep, grunting voice, thick with passion.
Pulling her elbows under her, she pushed her chest off
the bed as she pulled her knees under her pelvis, assuming a
stance of supplication. Now her backside was completely
bared, her skirt up over her back and her ass arched high in
the air. I kneeled beside her, still holding her cunt in my
hand, still fucking her with my thumb.
Her head was down on the sheet, turned toward me but
mostly obscured by her hair. She was groaning and murmuring
incoherently. I enjoyed the power of making her voice her
desire out loud. "What Jean? What do you want? Say the
words."
Barely louder and still incoherent, she continued an
entreaty in a near sing-song voice, still rocking back
against my hand.
"Say it Jean. I want to hear the words."
Throwing her head to toss her hair out of her eyes, she
looked at me with eyes almost crazed in passion and said
quite distinctly and slowly, "Fuck - me - with - your -
hand. Fuck - me - Billy." Then, dropping her forehead to
the bed again, she groaned, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME."
Driven by my own lust and given approval by the force
of her thrusts back against my hand, I picked up the speed
and depth of my thumb fucking. With her knees pulled up
beside her chest and her back arched, her ass cheeks were
full open, exposing her pink bung hole to my stare.
God! Her ass hole, exposed, open and vulnerable to me!
The place I'd dreamed about and had glimpsed just a few
times before. I placed the tip of my left index finger
right below her anus and then as I continued to thrust my
right thumb into her cunt, I ran my left fingertip around
the edge of her ass hole with a feather-light touch,
teasing.
Again she groaned, "Billy...Billy...what are you
*doing*?"
Pushing the pulp of my finger tip against her puckered
anus, I said, "I'm fucking you, Jean. I'm fucking you and
touching your ass hole. Can you feel me?"
She gasped, "I can't believe this. I just can't
believe what's happening. I don't even know what I'm
feeling, but it's incredible, it's wonderful. Oh, I want
it, I *want* it!"
Dropping a dollop of my saliva on her ass hole, I again
pushed my finger tip against her sphincter muscle. It
resisted for just a little while and then began to soften.
My finger tip dilated her ass hole a fraction. Again, she
pushed back against my hand, against my finger.
"Yes, yes, yes...whatever you're doing...yes!" she
chanted into the bed as I fucked her with my fingers,
humping myself against her hip. I lost sense of time. The
sensations went on an on, building, cresting, overflowing
and then she shrieked. No words. Just an explosive shriek.
Then she suddenly became still save the shuddering of her
body and with another eruptive grunt, she screamed,
"Coming... coming...God, God, God...oh shit, shit,
shit...I'm coming!"
Jean had once told me how hypersensitive her pussy
feels after she's had an orgasm, so I had presence of mind
to slow down, then stop, but leaving my thumb buried deep in
her cunt with my fingertip just nudging into her ass hole.
We stayed frozen there, suddenly silent save our gasping for
long minutes.
I was aware. In *that* moment, right there, right
then, I was aware. I had a startling clarity of us and the
moment. I could feel our breathing and our sweaty bodies.
I could smell the heady scent of Jean filling the room and
my head with her essence. I felt my cock, still hard,
pressing against her thigh and the coolness of the morning
breeze drying the wetness of our bodies. Me naked, Jean
with her skirt pulled up, nude from the waist down and my
fingers in her.
Then, I slowly pulled my thumb from her and she gasped,
"Oh, no." Pulling her down with her back to me, I curled
around her, holding her tight against my chest, by hips
against her ass and my legs curled into the crook of her
legs. I petted her and I crooned into her hair, "Oh,
baby...that was...that was indescribable. I have no words.
I simply can't tell you...I was just blown away. I love
you, babes. I love you more than I can say...more than you
know."
