TITLE    : Dancing the Night Away
STORYID  : dancing-the-night-away-1
SUMMARY  : A dream girl and her date dance the night away.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2006-03-01
CATEGORY : taboo-sex-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |sister|brother|


Alicia has always been shy. I don't know why. She's the most beautiful young woman I've ever seen. To be honest, I'm not hard on the eyes myself. Still, Alicia is so much lovelier than I am handsome that, although we are brother and sister, it's hard to believe we both issued from the same womb.



She's so gorgeous that words can't begin to describe her, but I'll do my best. She's a brunette, with hair so black that it seems almost blue. Her skin is as smooth as porcelain, but soft as silk. When she smiles, showing even white teeth between her full, soft, lustrous lips, and her wide eyes, sparkling like sapphires, go crescent and dimples appear in her apple cheeks, she takes my breath away.



Her body is just as magnificent. Although people might say a guy shouldn't check out his sister's physical charms, and most guys would deny that they ever even entertain the notion of ogling their own sisters, the truth is that there's not a man alive who hasn't considered his sister in just such a manner. A lot have done more than just think about their sister's bodies. Many have masturbated with images of their naked sisters in mind. A few have taken it to the next level--but let me get back to the topic of Alicia's body.



Her breasts are full, high, and round. They're all natural, but they're so perfect that they could be mistaken for silicone implants. Her tummy is firm; instead of its being flat, it's somewhat concave! Her blue-black pubic hair is tightly curled--don't get me wrong; unfortunately, I've never seen my sister completely naked--I've just seen a few stray strands at the edges of her bikini bottom. (I guess she'd forgotten to shave.) She has long, shapely legs, and her ass is so perfect that just the sight of those round, sleek mounds, even through a bikini bottom or her tight-ass slacks, makes me want to squeeze them or spank them or fuck them. Yes, I have thought about fucking my sister, many times, in every way possible. She's cost me a gallon of semen.



Believe me, Alicia has nothing to be shy about. Her problem, as far as I can see, is that she's one of those rare types who honestly doesn't know how breathtakingly beautiful she is. Whenever she's around any guy, she sets his heart aflutter and makes his cock hard. As a teen, when we still lived in Seattle, before moving to San Martino, I stopped having my friends over because all they wanted to do was gawk at and talk about my sister. I didn't want them looking at Alicia the way I did, and I didn't want to hear them talking about her the way I thought about her. Now that I'm out of high school, that's not a problem. My friends and I live separate lives now.



Moving to another state wasn't as hard for me as it's been for Alicia. I'd already graduated from high school, but poor Alicia was halfway through her senior year when we relocated from Washington to California, and she'd had to leave her friends behind. As a result, the sleepovers she used to have are pretty much a thing of the past--unfortunately. During our years in Seattle, when she'd had pajama parties, our house was Pussy Paradise. I miss seeing her cute girlfriends, but I still have Alicia to admire. I'll always have Alicia. We're as close as any brother and sister could be. "If I didn't know better," Mom jokes now and then about our togetherness, "I'd think you were identical twins."



It's hard to believe that even sweet, down-to-earth, unassuming Alicia is oblivious to her beauty or the effect that she has on guys, but she is. It was even harder for me to believe that she doesn't have a date for her high school prom, but she doesn't.



"How is that possible?" I asked her. "Are the boys in your school blind, gay, or just intimidated by your looks? Alicia, you're gorgeous!"



"Will you be my date, Bryce?"



"For your prom?"



"Of course."



"You should go with someone else, sis. You should go with a guy in your school."



"No one's invited me--except Chad."



"Who's Chad?"



"Chad Brighton." She'd shivered at the mention of his name.



"What's wrong with Chad?"



"He looks at me as if I'm naked. When he talks to me, he's always looking at my breasts." She'd blushed at using such a word as "breasts" in front of her brother. It was as if she'd said "tits" instead. Her modesty was just one more reason I loved Alicia--and one more reason I wanted to rip her clothes off. From the sound of it, lecherous Chad Brighton was the only normal boy in Alicia's entire high school--or the only one with enough balls to ask my stunningly beautiful sister to their high school prom.



"Will you?" Alicia had asked a second time. "Take me?"



I'd smiled. "Sure, sis. I'll be glad to take you."



My words had had a different connotation than hers, but, unaware of any double meaning, Alicia had grinned with delight, flinging her arms around my shoulders, and planting a chaste, sisterly (but, from my viewpoint, still erotically charged) kiss on my cheek. "Thanks, Bryce!" she'd gushed.



The week between the time I'd agreed to be my sister's prom date and the night of the dance went by as if it were a century instead of seven days, but, finally, the magic night arrived.



As I escorted Alicia into the gymnasium, which was doubling as the senior class' ballroom, I asked her, "What do you think?"



"It's fabulous!"



The gym was decorated according to an aquatic theme. Waterfalls cascaded down troughs formed by Styrofoam boulders painted light blue and gray, splashing among lush ferns, clumps of bulrushes, and thick stands of reeds. On the floor, along the walls, square frames fashioned of two-by-four-inch boards were filled with pebbles and sand in which were scattered seashells and sand dollars, and the walls themselves were hung with native masks. Potted palms stood between fountains upon which strobe lights flashed a rainbow of colors in pulsating spasms. Surfboards had been set atop miniature totem poles to form crude, but festive, counters behind which waitresses in grass skirts and brief tops and waiters in Hawaiian shirts and knee-length shorts served soft drinks, punch, and hors d'oeuvres. A raised dais was decorated as if it were a native hut, with a thatched roof, plank steps, and crooked wooden support poles. Near the hut, bright umbrellas shaded hammocks strung between steel poles anchored in concrete.





A figure familiar to my sister if not to me caught her eye. "Mr. Norman!" she shrieked in glee at a short, portly, bespectacled man in a tweed suit and matching vest.



"Hello, Alicia," Mr. Norman said as he accepted Alicia's hug--and a kiss on the cheek.



Alicia turned to me. "This is Mr. Norman, my social science teacher."



"Your former social science teacher," Mr. Norman corrected Alicia. He looked at me.



Alicia made the introductions, identifying me as her "boyfriend."



"Nice to meet you, young man," Mr. Norman said.



"Same here," I lied. I didn't like Mr. Norman. He'd encouraged Alicia to write a research paper on the incestuous relationships among ancient Egyptian pharaohs and their siblings. I thought it an inappropriate topic. I almost told Mom and Dad about it, but Alicia made me promise not to do so. For some reason, she'd been fascinated about the idea of brothers marrying their sisters. I remember her receiving an "A" for her paper. Apparently, she'd impressed Mr. Norman with her knowledge about incest.



Looking at my sister, I asked, "Hungry?"



Alicia shook her head.



"Thirsty?"



"No."



"Want to dance?"



"Please."



Excusing ourselves, we made our way past the small groups of students who stood in couples at the surfboard bars and near the fountains. I took her right hand in my left, placing my right hand upon the small of her back. She put her left hand upon my right shoulder, and we started dancing. "You look lovelier than ever," I whispered in my sister's ear.



"Thanks for bringing me."



"Thanks for letting me. By the way, you're a fabulous dancer."



"I'm not, but thanks for saying so."



"You're too modest, sis."



She frowned. "Not 'sis,'" she corrected me. "Tonight, I'm Alicia, and you're Bryce. You're my prom date, remember?"



"Right. Sorry, Alicia."



"If anyone asks, you're visiting from Montana."



"Montana? Isn't that a little far from here?"



"Remember when I went to that dude ranch last year?"



I nodded.



"It was in Montana. That's where we met."



I shrugged. "Okay."



As we danced, other couples joined us. Soon, the gymnasium was crowded with waltzing couples. One of them approached us, dancing through the crowd. He was a tall, broad-faced, blond-haired boy with a big nose, thin lips, and pudgy cheeks. He wore an obnoxious grin along with his perfectly tailored black tuxedo. He was dancing with a thin, dark-haired girl in a pink prom dress. He leered at Alicia in a way that made me want to smash his chubby face. "You call that dancing?" he demanded as he reached behind his date with both hands, cupped her buttocks through the thin material of her gown, and squeezed her ass firmly. "This is dancing!"



The girl squealed with a mock outrage that was undercut with delight. She giggled.



"You call that dancing?" I challenged him. "This is dancing!" I cupped Alicia's ass cheeks through her beautiful gown, squeezing them, as I thrust and ground my pelvis into her groin. I expected a shocked gasp, followed by a sharp slap in the face. Instead, Alicia responded the same way as the obnoxious boy's date, giggling as she pressed her pubes into mine, and said, with a perfect pretense at indignation, "Ooohhh, Bryce!"



Thrusting my pelvis into my sister's groin and having her press her pussy into my cock and balls as we danced close and slow had made my cock swell. Now, it stiffened in my trousers. I was afraid it might become fully erect, standing out from my groin as if it were a tent pole, much to both Alicia's and my own shame and mortification. Fortunately, the obnoxious boy said something that I couldn't ignore.



Looking at Alicia with as much contempt as lust, Mr. Insufferable said, "Fucking slut! You've sure taught your boy toy some nasty new moves!"



Alicia felt me tense.



"No, Bryce!" she hissed.



I wasn't about to be deterred; this punk had called my sister a "fucking slut," and I wasn't going to stand for such abusive treatment.



"Bryce!" she hissed again, but I'd already turned from her, and my fist was already swinging, hard and fast, through the air.



It connected solidly with Mr. Insufferable's head, smashing his broad nose, and he screamed, throwing his open hand over his nose and mouth. Blood streamed between his fingers and from beneath the palm of his hand.



"Ow!" Mr. Insufferable continued to scream, interspersing his screeches with words like "bastard," "shithead," and "asshole." He stepped sharply backward, away from his date, away from me, and away from my sister. "You broke my fucking nose!"



"If you ever say anything else like that about my--date--I'll break your fucking head," I told him, "wide open." I hit him again.



He howled.



"Got it?"



"Yeah, man," he gurgled between wet breaths, his lips frothy with blood and saliva.



"Bryce!" Alicia remonstrated. "Leave him alone!"



"Fucking creep," Mr. Insufferable's date called me.



I glared at her. "You want a broken nose, too, bitch?"



She was a hard case, I'll say that for her. Not at all intimidated, despite my being twice her size, the bitch snarled, "Why don't you take her up to Overlook Mountain and fuck her?"



"That does it!" I announced, stepping toward her.



Alicia cut me off. "No, Bryce!"



The commotion we'd caused had finally attracted the attention of a couple teachers. They strode toward us, angry looks on their tight faces. "What's going on there?" one of them called.



"Let's go," I told Alicia.



We hurried through the throngs of onlookers. In a few minutes, we were in my car, heading through the sultry summer's night.



"I'm sorry I ruined your prom," I told Alicia.



"You should be."



"I said I am. Besides, I was defending your honor."



"I guess I was at fault, too," Alicia said. "I let you bump and grind against me." She paused. "Hell, I did the same to you."



"Did you see the look on that blond bastard's ugly mug when you started thrusting your groin against mine? He looked as if he'd swallowed a hot cinder!" I laughed at the memory of his panicked face. "Who was he, anyway?"



"Chad Brighton. His bitch-date is Martha Overton." Alicia blushed. At first, I thought that her embarrassment was due to her having used the "b" word. I knew I was mistaken when she added, "I'm sorry I ruined your evening, Bryce."



"It's your night, not mine," I reminded her. "Besides, you didn't ruin it." Remembering her forceful shoves of her cunt into my cock and balls enflamed my passion anew, and I felt my cock stiffen and rise inside my trousers. No, she hadn't ruined my night, not by any stretch of the imagination!



Her blush deepened. "The way I acted! Rubbing myself against you like that--pushing my crotch into yours! I can't believe I did such a thing!"



"You were trying to impress Chad."



"That's true," Alicia admitted, "but it's certainly no excuse."



"Don't worry about it, sis. There's no harm done. In fact--" I hesitated.



She turned, facing me. "In fact what?"



I swallowed. "Nothing."



"What?" she insisted.



"Forget it."



"Tell me, Bryce. Please."



Inwardly, I shrugged. I'd probably regret it, I thought, but I may as well come clean. "When I squeezed your butt--I liked it. A lot. When I thrust against you, I liked it. Even more. When you thrust back--I almost lost it."



Alicia looked horrified. "Bryce!"



I dropped my head.



"Watch the road," Alicia admonished me.



"Sorry."



We rode in silence for a few minutes. Then, I asked, "After the prom, where does everyone go?"



"What do you mean?"



"You know--to be alone."



Alicia studied me. I wondered what was in her mind. After a long moment, during which I could almost physically feel the intensity of her gaze on my skin, like radiation or heat, she said, "Overlook Mountain." After a few moments' silence, she asked, "Would you mind driving up there with me tonight, Bryce?"



I frowned. "To Overlook Mountain? Tonight?"



"Not to do anything, of course--just to be seen."



"Why would you want to be seen there with your brother?"



"No one knows you're my brother, Bryce."



That was true, of course. In fact, that's why Alicia had wanted me to accompany her to her prom. Still, visiting Overlook Mountain on prom night with a guy that no one knew was her brother--that wouldn't be good for her reputation. I told her as much.



"That's why I want you to take me," she said. "Everyone thinks I'm so chaste and proper. They call me 'The Ice Queen.'"



"Who cares what they think?"



"I do."



I remembered how important other people's opinions about me had been just a couple of years ago, when I'd still been a high school student. It was absurd to care what a bunch of kids thought, of course, but. I had to admit, I'd been eager--even anxious--to find the approval of my teenage peers, too. Nowadays, it had become just as humiliating for a girl to be thought a virgin as it seemed always to have been for a boy. I could relate. "Okay," I agreed, "if you want."



"Thanks."



Overlook Mountain was five miles away. It rose steeply from sea level, through low clouds, and offered a panoramic view of the surrounding countryside.



At the top, cars were parked along the perimeter, under the stars. All that could be seen were the silhouettes of heads, usually pressed together. Sometimes, no one appeared to be in a car, but, I suspected, they were there, all right; they were just out of sight, attending to private, intimate business. A few of the cars rocked upon their springs.



"Wow!" Alicia whispered.



"'Wow' is right!" I agreed.



"Bryce?"



"Yeah?"



"Were you really turned on when you squeezed my ass?"



Ass? Had I really heard my little sister say "ass"? "Uh, yes, I was."



"Why?"



I chuckled. I couldn't help it. The question was so incredibly silly. "Why do you think?"



"Tell me."



"No."



"Please."



"It's not something a guy talks to his sister about."



"Please."



"Why do you want to know?"



"I just do."



"I already told you. You're gorgeous."



"You were turned on by squeezing my ass because I'm gorgeous?"



"Duh."



"Earlier, you said you 'almost lost it' when I thrust against you. What did you mean by 'almost lost it'?"



"You know."



"Tell me."



She wasn't going to let up until I said something, I realized, so I replied, "I guess I felt the way you feel when Chad Brighton looks at you as if you're naked."



"Ugh! That's gross, Bryce. That's really gross!"



"I mean, if you liked Chad and wanted him to look at you that way."



Alicia tried a different approach. "Have you ever wanted to see me that way, Bryce?"



I didn't know what to say, so I played dumb. "What way?"



"Naked."



Okay, I told myself, if my little sister wanted to play games, I'd play along. "Sure, lots of times." I paused. "Have you ever wanted to see me naked?"



Finally, I'd shut her up. She'd learned that there were some topics siblings weren't meant to discuss, no matter how close they were.



Atop Overlook Mountain, far from the lights that tinkled in the distance below, the night was quiet. I became aware of songs playing faintly on the car radios--make out music. My cock swelled, and I wished I were here with someone besides my sister. I'd shut Alicia up, at least, by turning her question around on her and asking if she'd ever wanted to see me naked.



Somewhere, a horn honked. In the silence, it sounded particularly loud. Still, no one would hear it. Overlook Mountain was far from the nearest house.



A girl's voice hissed angrily, chastising her boyfriend's clumsiness: "Allan! Be more careful!"



Then, I heard Alicia whisper to me, her voice hoarse: "Yes."



"You have wanted to see me naked?" I asked, wanting to make sure I hadn't misunderstood her.



Again, hoarsely: "Yes."



"When?"



"All the time, ever since I was twelve years old."



My chaste, shy, innocent little sister had wanted to see me naked for a third of her life? It was too much to believe! "Quit it, Alicia. That's nothing to joke about."



"I know," she answered. "I'm not joking."



I twisted the key in the ignition, starting the car's engine. "We'd better get you home," I declared. Things had gotten way out of hand.



She turned the key to the left, and the engine died. "I don't want to go home. I want to stay here, with you."



"Alicia, we can't--"



"Don't you like me, Bryce?"



"Of course. I love you, Alicia. You know that. But we can't. It's wrong. It's--"



"It's not wrong. I've read about it, Bryce, and other brothers and sisters have--"



I started the engine again. "I don't want to hear it."



Her hand slid over my thigh, stroked my cock and balls, and squeezed the shaft of my erect penis. "Then I won't tell you about it," she said. "I don't want to talk anyway."



What had gotten into my sister? I wondered. Was she so desperate to lose her virginity that she'd let her own brother deflower her? To feel desirable, would she let her own brother have his way with her? Was she so determined to fuck a guy that she'd have sex with her sibling? "Alicia, you don't know what you're saying."



She rubbed my stiffening prick through the silk of my trousers. "Yes, I do," she averred. "I know exactly what I'm doing." What she said next blew me away. "Why do you think I asked you to take me to the prom?"



"You planned this?" I asked, shocked.



"Kids always go to Overlook Mountain after the prom--or its equivalent elsewhere." As she spoke, Alicia continued to rub my cock through the silk tuxedo trousers. My prick swelled to its full capacity, becoming increasingly longer and more rigid. "What do you say, Big Brother," she asked, with an obvious play on words playing in her mind, "should we get your pants off?"

<hr pg="2" />We'd both passed the point of pretending that we weren't interested in having sex with the other, so I simply nodded.



Alicia unfastened my cummerbund, unbuckled my belt, unzipped my fly, and tugged my trousers down as I lifted my hips. After she'd pulled my pants down below my knees, she lowered my underpants as well, and, freed from the confining briefs, my stiff, hard cock sprang up so quickly that I imagined it went boing!



Alicia laughed. "You're a little tense, aren't you?" she quipped. She scrunched back against the passenger door, leaned forward, her hair falling across my lap, and said, "Let's see if we can get you to relax." Then, I felt the soft, smooth circle of her rounded lips slide over the crown of my cock and down the swollen shaft, all the way to my balls. Her nose poked against my belly, her chin nestling against my balls. She'd taken the full length of my erection into her mouth without gagging, a feat that suggested that my little sister was more adept at the art of cock sucking than I'd have ever imagined!



"You've done this before," I observed.



She didn't bother to reply, except to continue to suck my cock with an expertise that belied her shy, innocent demeanor. Was her persona merely a façade that hid her true, wanton self? The thought was absurd--or was it? She certainly sucked cock as well or better than any woman who'd ever performed this same act upon me.



Alicia made soft, wet, slurping sounds as her head continued to bob up and down, her "O"-shaped lips riding the saliva-slick shaft of my erection while her sharp-nailed fingertips toyed with my balls, stroking and caressing and kneading them through the taut, smooth flesh of my contracted scrotum.



Inside the warm-soft-wetness of my sister's deep oral embrace, my cock stiffened and swelled even more, to the point that my pulsing organ, like my balls, actually began to ache. The need for release mounted in my loins, and my thighs spasms, my anus fluttered, and my stomach tightened. My pulse raced, and my heart beat faster. It seemed to me that there was a rocket inside my balls, the lit fuse of which would soon launch it straight up through my rigid penis. I moaned.



Alicia's head rose. As her soft, silky lips withdrew past the purple crown of my reddened cock, she trailed a strand of saliva between my organ's rubbery glans and her lower lip.



"Why'd you stop?" I gasped.



She looked at me with her wide, innocent sapphire eyes, the picture of pristine innocence. "I want you to finish in my cunt."



"It's too close in here," I objected.



"Then we'll go outside."



"People will see us."



"It's dark, Bryce. No one will see us."



"They'll see," I insisted, although I knew Alicia was right: it was too dark for us to be seen as anything more than dim shadows, if we were visible at all to anyone who was not too busily engaged with his or her date to know or care what was going on elsewhere.



My sister's rejoinder shocked me anew. She who always seemed so worried about fitting in, belonging, and being popular and always obsessed with what others might think said, "Who cares?"



I tried a new approach. "It's cold outside."



"You won't be cold for long," she assured me. "I'll warm you up."



These transparent subterfuges overcome, I resorted, at last, to the truth. "It's not right, Alicia. We shouldn't even have done what we did do."



Again, my little sister's frankness surprised me. "What's wrong with sucking cock?" she asked.



"Nothing, if it's not your brother's cock you're sucking."



"Bryce, you're such a hypocritical prude. One moment, you tell me how you've wanted to see me naked; now that I am, you let me feel your prick and suck your cock without protest, but, when I tell you I want to fuck you, suddenly our making love is somehow 'wrong.'"



"It is wrong," I insisted. "It's incest." I hesitated. "Besides, you could get pregnant. You could be impregnated by your own brother. Have you thought about that?"



"I'm on the pill."



I was taken aback at this intelligence. My chase little sister was using birth control? "When did you start taking the pill?" I demanded.



She chuckled at my indignation. "I just started."



The implication of her admission hadn't been lost on me. She'd started taking the pill in preparation for having sex with me, tonight. She'd planned in advance to have sex with her brother. Our earlier words echoed themselves in my mind: "Why do you think I asked you to take me to the prom?" she'd asked me.



"You planned this?" I'd enquired, shocked.



She replied, "Kids always go to Overlook Mountain after the prom--or its equivalent elsewhere."



She had planned this, all of it, from asking me to be her date for the prom to getting me to bring her here, to Overlook Mountain, to having sex with her. It was now obvious, even to me, that my image of my little sister as a chaste and innocent, shy young lady was just that--an image. In reality, she was a siren, a seductress, a temptress.



Another thought occurred to me. "How many guys have you been with?"



"A few," she admitted, "not that it's any of your business."



"A few?" I repeated, still dazed despite my awareness that my sister was not the innocent young woman I'd always wrongly supposed her to be.



"I've been with girls, too, Bryce," she said, shocking me further as I imagined her tongue stroking another girl's clit and licking the wet furrow between her labia or having her cunt lapped by another girl's dancing tongue. "Not that it's any of your business."



"Alicia, I had no idea--"



"Why should you? I'm sure you've been with other girls--maybe even with other guys--"



"No way!" I interjected.



She giggled at my protest. "But your sex life is none of my business--unless, if course, it happens to intersect with mine, as it has tonight." She squeezed my dwindling penis. "But we're wasting time--and a good hardon. Let's fuck."



"Alicia, you're my sister," I began lamely.



"I know. That's what makes this so exciting. Now, come on." She opened her door, and the cold night air rushed into the car's interior. Giving my cock a gentle, but insistent pull, she climbed out of my vehicle, a darkness against the stars.



I sat for a moment, my cock stiffening again. I closed my eyes. The same thought repeated itself over and over in my mind: "Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister!" I struggled to do the right thing. "Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister!" I thought of the many happy, innocent times we'd spent together growing up. "Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister!" I remembered Mom's quip about our always being together: "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were identical twins."



"Are you coming?" Alicia, bent at the waist so she could peer into the car, hissed impatiently.



No, I thought, I wasn't coming--a guy didn't fuck his own little sister!



There was just enough starlight to make out the shapes of her sleek breasts, hanging, like luscious fruits, from her chest, and I could see that her nipples were erect with desire.



I slumped in my seat as the cursed voice of my conscience made a last-ditch attempt to reason with me concerning the morality--or immorality--of the act my sister demanded of me. "Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister!" I sighed deeply, as if I were releasing my very soul as I made my decision. I opened my door, climbed out of my seat, and stood, with my trousers and underpants around my ankles. Having forgotten that I was still half dressed,, I quickly sat down again. As I removed my shoes and socks, took off my pants and briefs, and doffed my coat, vest, shirt, and other items of apparel, the same insistent voice railed, ""Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister!"



Completely nude, I rose, rounded the front of my car and joined my naked sister. She put her hand in mine, leading me away from the parked cars, toward a grove of trees. If anyone saw us, he or she made no outcry.



No sooner were we under the relative cover of the nearest stand of trees than Alicia took matters more firmly in hand, clutching my cock in her fist. "You're soft," she observed, shaking her head. "Well, I'll soon fix that."



As I leaned back against the bole of the nearest tree, Alicia knelt before me. Once again, she slid her rounded lips down the shaft of my cock, taking my organ into her mouth, all the way to my balls. Her head bobbed up and down as she worked her parted lips back and forth along my straining prick. At the same time, she teased the flesh of my scrotum, massaging and lightly pinching my testicles. Her pumping mouth moved faster and more forcefully, pushing and pulling the taut skin up and down upon my rigid cock. Soon, my knees were shaking. I thought they'd buckle at any moment. I couldn't repress the groan that rose in my throat. "Uuuhhh!" I cried. "Suck it, baby!"



I'd just urged my own sister to continue to suck my prick! What kind of brother was I? My conscience repeated its now-familiar refrain: "Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister! Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister! Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister!" I felt guilty as hell, but I wasn't about to dissuade Alicia from sucking my cock, not when such a tsunami of pleasure was building inside me.



Abruptly, her lips drew away from my dick.



"What's wrong?" I hissed.



"Mission accomplished," she replied. "You're hard again."



"I may be hard again, but I'm far from satisfied."



"Don't worry; I'll make sure you get your rocks off--but I want you to finish inside me."



"Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister!" my conscience shouted. "Okay," I agreed.



Still kneeling, Alicia let her upper body drop forward, resting its weight upon her outspread palms. "Kneel behind me," she instructed.



"I know what to do," I informed her as I took up my position. With my fist, I pointed the tip of my cock into the wet cleavage of her cunt. The moist petals of flesh parted, and my prick slid into the rose-soft, liquid center of her sex. I eased my organ into her depths, until my balls pressed against her perineum and pussy lips.



Now, it was Alicia, not me, who moaned. "Aaahhh! Fuck me, Bryce!"



I pulled my hips back, paused, and slammed them forward again. My groin collided with the upper portions of Alicia's buttocks as my prick plunged deep into her sopping pussy.



Alicia moaned again, repeating her plea. "Ooohhh! Fuck me, Bryce! Fuck me fast and hard!"



Again, I withdrew, leaving only the tip of my erect penis inside my sister's cunt. I halted briefly before slamming my hips forward and driving my organ deep into the soaking center of her sex. I repeated these actions, thrusting harder and faster. Alicia shoved her ass back to meet my lunges. My hips and groin crashed into her bottom harder and faster with every plunge. Her cunt juices made wet, slurping sounds that, had we not been gripped with passion, would have been embarrassing instead of titillating. I reached forward, taking Alicia's dangling, full, soft-firm breasts in my cupped hands. As I continued to fuck her with wild abandon, I squeezed the sleek, spongy orbs gently but firmly, pausing occasionally to twiddle her nipples with my thumbs, eliciting another moan from my sister.



I never wanted this magic night to end. I wanted, always and forever, to be fucking my sister, to be feeling the tender, wet, rose-petal-soft tissues of her cunt slide past my driving prick, to be hearing her labored breathing and her sharp cries of ecstatic bliss, and to be feeling her jerk and shudder. Unfortunately, I'm a man, not a machine. Try as I might to delay the approach of orgasm, it seized me in its grasp soon enough, shaking me to the very marrow of my bones, and, as I withdrew my lurching, straining cock from my sister's depths, my sperm burst in thick spurts, volley after volley, upon her cunt lips, her ass cheeks, her back, and her thighs.



Alicia's ecstatic shrieks and cries filled the night.



Afterward, we returned to my car, dressed, sealed our love with a few deep, wet kisses, and drove home, exhausted.



Mom and Dad were waiting up for us, smiles on their trusting faces.



"Did you kids have a good time?" Dad asked.



We assured him that we had.



Mom shook her head, grinning. If I didn't know better," she joked about our togetherness, "I'd think you were identical twins."



"I'm glad you agreed to take your sister," Dad told me.



I smiled at him. "Me, too."



"You certainly danced the night away," Mom observed, looking at her watch. "It's two o'clock in the morning!"



"Well, I'm going to bed," Dad announced. "Good night."



"Me, too," Mom declared. "Sweet dreams."



Alicia and I echoed their sentiments, climbing the stairs after them, to go to our respective bedrooms.



As I drifted off to sleep, naked as usual, I was thinking of Alicia, kneeling before me, sucking my cock. Be careful, I told myself, or you'll have a wet dream.



In the morning, I awoke with my chest, belly, and pubes wet with semen. Disappointed, I rose, showered, and dried myself. Alicia and I hadn't gone to her prom. We'd never danced. We'd never gone to Overlook Mountain, and we'd most certainly never had sex. Hell, I reminded myself, Alicia's prom wasn't even scheduled for another week.



It had all been just a dream--a wet dream, true, but a dream, nevertheless. It had seemed real, though. Even now, my conscience continued to rebuke and reprove me. The familiar words from my dream reverberated through my sluggish, sleepy brain: "Don't do this; it's wrong. She's your sister!" Out loud, I said, "I didn't do it, so shut up!" I was surprised at the anger in my voice.



After dressing, I stumbled downstairs for coffee and a muffin.



Alicia was already seated at the table, a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of milk before her. When I entered the kitchen, she hastily tucked something into her purse--a square of silver foil in which were embedded tiny blue pills.



Birth control, I thought, pretending not to have seen. Joining her at the table, I nibbled my muffin and sipped my coffee. Alicia was staring at me. "What?" I asked her.



She hesitated. Her eyes were downcast, and her cheeks were flushed. She was embarrassed, I realized.



Alicia has always been shy. I don't know why. She's the most beautiful young woman I've ever seen. To be honest, I'm not hard on the eyes myself. Still, Alicia is so much lovelier than I am handsome that, although we are brother and sister, it's hard to believe we both issued from the same womb.



"What is it?" I prompted her.



"Would you mind being my date for the prom?"



"You don't have a prom date?" I'd asked, repeating her confession with as much incredulity in my tone as she'd had matter-of-factness in her own voice in having informed me of her dateless situation.



"No."



"How is that possible? Are the boys in your school blind, gay, or just intimidated by your looks? Alicia, you're gorgeous!"



She ignored my compliments, repeating her plea. "Will you be my date, Bryce?"



"Sure, sis. I'll be glad to take you." I smiled at the double entendre as I studied her blue-black hair; her porcelain-smooth, silk-soft skin; her even white teeth; her full, soft, lustrous lips; her, sparkling sapphire eyes; her dimpled smile; her apple cheeks; her full, high, round breasts; her firm, concave tummy. She was perfect in every beautiful detail. No wonder I'd had a wet dream about her--she was the perfect dream girl. Maybe, I thought, dreams can come true.



"Thanks."



"It's my pleasure," I answered. Secretly, I hoped that it would be. "We'll dance the night away." 

