Unspoken Pleasure

"Of course I do, you're my sister." "Not love. Love."

"I don't think so," I said, after some consideration. To be honest it wasn't all that clear cut. Love isn't a switch that's either on or off. There are all sorts of in-between spots we don't have words for. I didn't feel about Betsy what I thought love would feel like (I wasn't naive enough to think I'd ever been in love with any of my previous girlfriends), so I figured I was probably OK saying 'no.'

"Right," Betsy said, "It's functional. You're keeping me warm, that's all."

And so I let my little sister triumph. Like I said, I was rooting for her to win. Besides, I was moving out of the house in a few months anyway. So even if things were progressing a bit further than they should, it wouldn't matter for too much longer. What's a bit of oral between blood relatives, after all?

Betsy's smiled, warmly, but then she shivered. "Good. Because I need another dose before I freeze to death."

We both lay back on the bed. I pulled the covers over us. Betsy nestled in the crook of my shoulder. I tilted my head and kissed her. I assumed, if it was all transactional as my sister claimed, that she would start pushing me to produce my precious fluids. Instead, though, Betsy lay back and let us share in each other.

I tried to think of a time when I'd felt this connected, this safe, with another human being. I'd been close with Melissa, yes, but it was only a physical adjacency. My previous girlfriends had been high school trifles or after party hookups, nothing even worth considering. This was on a totally different scale from either of those experiences.

Because it was Betsy, the girl I'd grown up with, we already had that emotional connection. I wasn't caught up in my concerns because our relationship was already well-defined. Concurrently, that closeness should have also made the physical aspect more upsetting. But whatever unnatural, naughty feelings our make out session brought out in me, they only amplified the experience. Heightened it. Like the difference between acoustic and electric. Everything was just more.

My little sister slid her hand down my bare chest and straight down the front of my bottoms. She grabbed my dick, commanding, and hummed into my mouth.

"There's my new best buddy," she said, smiling at me. "And he seems like he's more than ready to come out and play. You want to do that big guy? Give me your special gift?"

Without waiting for a response, Betsy pushed my pajamas down. I kicked them the rest of the way off. Now I was completely naked in bed with my baby sister, my dick sticking up hard as ever.

I reached for Betsy's top, but she slipped past me, grabbed my dick, and steered it straight into her mouth. At that point, I couldn't complain about our outfit imbalance. She could have kicked me in the shins and I wouldn't have said a word. My sister didn't just suck my dick, she worked at it. Put the job blowjob I suppose. She wasn't satisfied to repeat the same actions from before, either. She added all new possibilities and permutations -- kissing, licking, nibbling -- like trying to figure out every potential trigger. All the while smiling, happy and hungry. Like I'd introduced her to the best thing in the world. As if she was the one getting pleasure rather than giving it.

Finally, though, I gave out.

"Bets, I'm almost..."

"MmmHm," Betsy said, as if my words were obvious and inevitable. I guess because they were.

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I groaned, loud, as my spend shot into my sister's waiting mouth. She grunted and coughed on the first blast, but happily gulped the rest as I emptied myself. The ecstasy was wonderfully familiar, yet freshly intense. Betsy sat back on her haunches and wiped her chin. Then she wrapped her arms around herself, hugging tight.

"So good," I gasped out, still coming down from that incredible precipice.

"So warm," Betsy said, almost a moan as she rocked herself back and forth. "I swear I can feel it like a fireball in my belly."

I felt so many emotions, staring up at my sister, it was almost as overwhelming as my orgasm. I knew I wanted to show her how good she'd made me feel. How amazing it was to be the object of her efforts. I could only settle on a single thing. Before Betsy could react, I leapt up and tackled her to the bed. She shrieked (hopefully not too loudly) in surprise as both of us bounced on the mattress. I held her body tight in my arms and began lightly kissing her lips. Her face, her neck. Betsy was so overwhelmed, she seemed unable to select a reaction -- so she had them all. My sister laughed, ticklish. Screeched, uncomfortable. Groaned, aroused. Words barely able to surface as I worshipped whatever exposed skin I could find. There wasn't much.

"Bran, what are you...?"

I didn't give her a chance to finish her thought and reached down to the waistband of her sweatpants. I grabbed whatever cloth I could get hold of and ripped it down her legs. Just like that, Betsy was bare from her waist down to her knees. I was staring at my baby sister's naked sex.

Betsy gasped. She tried to close her legs, but I wouldn't let her. That little glimpse -- her thighs and a bit of her calves -- felt like a forbidden sight. They were thin but not skinny, well-muscled from running yet quite feminine. Her skin so soft and almost creamy. But what was between her thighs was what held my focus.

My little sister's pussy was divine. Fat, outer lips practically ruddy with arousal. Precious pink folds barely hidden behind that, fighting to flower out. A tuft of light brown hair at the top, surprisingly thick and full.

"Brandon?" Betsy asked. Her voice thrummed with excitement and nervousness.

"I want to return the favor," I said.

"I told you, I tried that, it doesn't make me warmer," Betsy said.

"Don't care," I replied.