TITLE    : Pooling Around
STORYID  : pooling-around
SUMMARY  : They were just "pooling around" at first.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2008-01-07
CATEGORY : taboo-sex-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |brother|sister|18 year old|incest anal|siblings|


My sister Ellen looks sexy in jeans (or anything else--or nothing at all) because she has good genes. At sixteen, she looked twelve. Now that she's just turned eighteen, she looks fourteen. Her face has a clean, well-scrubbed, girl-next-door, angelic wholesomeness, but her innocent look doesn't hide the natural beauty of her features. A blonde, Ellen has eyes that shine as brightly as a cloudless sky at noon, and her high cheeks are soft and round as sun-ripened apples. The bridge of her nose is slender, the tip tiny, and her pretty lips, pursed in a perpetual pout, are full, soft, and sensuous. Her pointed chin gives her face a Valentine's heart shape that is beyond cute. Her neck is long and slender and graceful.



Just to look at her makes me want to fuck her, even if she is my sister--and she doesn't even have to be naked. Most of the time, she is, though. Since she was a toddler, she's preferred to wear nothing but her birthday suit. At first, Mom and Dad tried to dissuade her. They forbade it. When she persisted in running around the house naked, they threatened, cajoled, and punished her. Fortunately, she was every bit as determined as they were, and, ultimately, she wore down their resolve, and my parents relented, after extracting from her the promise that she'd stop "parading herself" in front of me. (It was all right, they seemed to think, for them to see her without clothes on, but, somehow, it was wrong for me, her brother, to see her in the altogether.)



Ellen humored them. She promised not to "scandalize" her brother by appearing before me in the nude. Of course, she had no intention of keeping her word, and she went on, as blithely as ever, nakedly going about her business. Mom and Dad eventually stopped demanding that she honor her agreement with them to forego her nudity in my presence, accepting the fact that, like it or not, they had a nudist in the family. Me, I'd liked it from the very start.



As I watched Ellen grow up, I watched her grow out, too. Her breasts--what would become her breasts--budded. At first, she had nothing more than twin beestings. Then, her nipples enlarged, spreading and puffing. They darkened slightly, becoming not red but pinker, like the petals of a blossoming rose. Gradually, the beestings swelled further, taking on round shapes. Had she not been, even at such a tender age, a confirmed nudist, she'd have had to be fitted, soon, for her first bra. Eventually, she might have to wear one to school or elsewhere in public, but she'd put off acquiring one, even for public wear, as long as she could. Her little boobs gained elevation and circumference, but they remained high, firm, and tight. They were buoyant and bouncy, but--judging by sight, and not (yet) by touch--they were also smooth. Her hips remained narrow, and there was no growth, as yet, of hair upon her pubes, the cleft of her sex remaining a visible dimple at the center of her crotch that drew my eye as often as her budding breasts.



Although her boobs and pussy were her most obviously feminine parts, I also paid close and constant attention to the development of her buttocks, as you might imagine, and they no more disappointed me in their progress than did my sister's other increasingly womanly charms. I watched their progress as Ellen turned thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen. Each year, the perfect twin globes became fuller, sleeker, and more magnificent until they surpassed the bottoms of any actress, model, or other celebrity.



Her legs are long, slender, and shapely, the thighs smooth, the knees dimpled, and the calves firm and tight. Her feet are dainty, and her hands are small and soft. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have been able to study my sister's transformation from innocent, cute-but-gangly preteen to gorgeous young woman. How many guys could boast the same privilege?



This morning, right after dawn, my parents went out of town for the weekend. They'd never done so before, afraid, most likely, that Ellen's nudity would lead to something between us that shouldn't happen between siblings. They had little choice, though: Mom had won a weekend's free trip to San Diego, and it was a lose-it-or-lose it proposition for this weekend only.



Upon leaving, Mom gave me a peck on the cheek. "Behave yourself," she admonished me. Looking past me, at my sister, who, as usual, stood naked, Mom said, "And, for God's sake, Ellen, put some clothes on for once!"



"Okay," Ellen said, but, of course, she didn't.



Clutching their bags, Dad said to Mom, "Come on, Harriet. We have to get to the airport."



"You'd better arrive early," Ellen quipped. "They might strip search you."



Mom rolled her eyes. "You're impossible!" she said. Looking at me, the responsible one, Mom said again, "Behave yourself, Drake. I mean it."



"I will," I promised, but, of course, I didn't.



In a moment, Mom and Dad were gone, rushing off to the airport, and Ellen and I had the house to ourselves, but it wasn't the house my nudist sister wanted to herself; it was the backyard swimming pool--and she didn't want that to herself, either.



"Come on," she invited me to join her. "Let's pool around."



That's what Ellen had always said instead of "take a dip" or "go for a swim."



"Okay," I agreed. "Let's."



When Mom and Dad had had the backyard landscaped, they'd done so with privacy in mind. Tall cedars, stately poplars, and a tall fence festooned with bougainvillea shielded the pool, making it invisible to prying eyes. "I think, before we came along, they used to skinny dip," Ellen had told me once. At the time, I'd attributed her suspicion to her own fondness for swimming naked. As a nudist, she'd naturally supposed that everyone else also preferred to swim nude rather than in a suit. Now, I wasn't so sure. Maybe she'd been right. Certainly, the landscaping suggested that Mom and Dad wanted to make sure whatever they did in their backyard stayed private.



Now, as I was waded around the pool, watching her, Ellen lay naked, on her tummy, on an inflated raft floating upon the surface of our backyard swimming pool, the mounds of her tan, wet buttocks glistening in the sun.



She asked me to do a favor for her: "Drake, would you mind rubbing some lotion on me? I don't want to burn."



I smiled. "You talked me into it, sis."



I waded through the chest-high water, climbed the stepladder mounted to the side of the pool, and walked, dripping water, to the chaise lounge, where Ellen had set the suntan lotion, along with other the necessities of the day--a CD player, CD's, headphones, a comb, a brush, a hat with a visor, a couple of beach towels, and a tawdry romance novel--and was back in the pool, wading toward the twin moons dipping and swaying atop the raft, suntan lotion bottle in hand.



Squeezing a dollop onto one palm, I set the bottle on the raft, alongside Ellen's right hip, and, after rubbing my hands together, massaged the lotion into her shoulders and back, working down to the sweeping curves of her derriere. "There you go, sis," I said, repressing the urge to sigh.



"What about my butt?" Ellen asked.



I swallowed. "Your what?"



"And my legs. Don't forget them."



"But, Ellen--"



Her legs flexing and her ass cheeks tightening, she rose onto her elbows, turning to look at me over her bare shoulder, squinting. She looked beautiful, as always, but a little perturbed as well. "I don't want to burn," she declared.



"And I don't want you to burn, either, sis, but--"



"But what, Drake?"



"It's your butt we're talking about."



"It's muscle and fat, flesh and blood," she said.



"And bone," I ventured, hoping a joke might ease my stress. "Don't forget the bone."



"I don't have a bony ass," she said, giving me an arch look. "If anyone has a bone around here, it's you, not me."



I blushed, because I had a "bone," all right--my cock, thick and hard, jutted from my groin, making the front of my trunks into a tent.



Without another word, I squeezed another glob of lotion onto my palm, rubbed my hands together, as before, and spread the white cream over my sister's gorgeous backside, feeling the firm, sleek mounds of her ass under my rotating palms and fanned-out fingers. The lotion thinned, glistening, and looked, I thought, much like semen.



My cock ratcheted up another inch, stiffening and swelling even more inside my swimsuit. It may not have been right, but I couldn't help how I felt. I wanted to stuff my rigid cock between her lotion-smeared buttocks and through the tight opening of her anus, deep into her rectum. I wanted to fuck my sister hard and fast until I lost all control and spurted my thick, warm, white, viscid semen over the perfect globes of her ass.



Instead, I worked my hands down the undersides of those splendid slopes and began to work the lotion into the backs of her sleek, firm thighs. I could see the crescent of her cunt, which she kept shaved, between her legs, and I watched the curved slit of her sex as I kneaded and rubbed the creamy lotion into her upper legs, my balls feeling as if they'd explode at any moment and my rock-hard cock pressing insistently against the liner of my trunks, demanding access to the charms my always-naked sister so openly and shamelessly displayed.



The water splashed, the raft dipped and swayed, and the sun baked our flesh as I continued to massage the lotion into my sister's wet, glistening flesh. Her pink-and-gold complexion was slowly becoming bronze, and beads of water sparkled and glinted upon the tan flesh like diamonds against sand. My sister always looked beautiful and sexy, but, at this moment, she was more desirable to me than any woman had ever been, and I wanted--I needed--to be inside her--in her mouth, her ass, her cunt--more than I needed to breathe. Unfortunately, short of rape, there was no way to satisfy these urges. Ellen had invited me to spread suntan lotion on her, not to fuck her.



I watched the lotion swirl beneath the pressure of my rotating palms and massaging fingers. It streaked and whirled across her thighs and calves, frothing slightly until her skin absorbed the creamy fluid. The bright sunlight gleamed as it danced upon the water and upon her bronzed, oiled flesh. Risking a frown or a scolding rebuke, I gave her buttocks a playful swat and said, "You're basted."



She stretched, her shoulders shrugging as she raised her arms above her head. Replacing the backs of her hands beneath her cheek, to form a makeshift pillow, she yawned before pointing out, "You missed a spot."



"Your feet?"



"My perineum."



"Your perineum?" I repeated, my voice shaky. She was as much as asking me to rub the lotion into her pussy--or, at least, her labia, because there was no way I could rub the lotion between her legs without touching her cunt lips.



"Of course," she insisted. "I especially don't want to burn there."



I took a gulp, to steady my nerves, I guess, and said, my voice hoarse, "Okay."



I spurted some more lotion into a waiting palm. This time, the creamy fluid not only looked like semen, but it also felt like it. It was just my imagination, I told myself, as I rubbed my hands together.



Ready, I hesitated.



"Well?" Ellen called, a note of impatience in her voice.



Here goes, then, I thought, and reached between my sister's legs.



At first, I thought I'd creamed myself, but, no, it was only pre-cum, the Cowper's fluid that helped to lubricate one's cock. I was still hard--almost painfully so.



Ellen's flesh was rose-petal soft. It was moist, too, as if with dew. Water from the pool, I realized, must have splashed between her thighs, wetting her perineum. Light sparkled upon the drops. Lightly, I rubbed the lotion up and down, upon the swell of flesh at either side of my sister's oh-so-pink labia. I heard a sharp intake of breath. It was I, remembering to breathe.



I'd done it! I thought. I'd touched my sister there, between her legs, in that place which both God and man forbid a sister's brother from ever touching.



I expected the sky to darken with storm clouds. I expected God to thunder his outrage. I expected him to discharge his wrath in a bolt of lightning that would incinerate me. The day remained bright, the sky cloudless, and birds sang while gentle wavelets lolled and splashed against my flesh and the flesh of my naked sister, between whose legs I'd just rubbed lotion that looked, more and more, like the fluid of my loins.



"My lips," my sister said. "You forgot my lips."



Her comment made no sense. "You're lying on your stomach," I reminded her.



"Not those lips," she said.



My God! She couldn't be serious, I thought. But I knew Ellen, and I knew she was serious. Nevertheless, I intended to make absolutely sure there was no misunderstanding. If I was going to do what she was asking me to do, I wanted it to be clear to both of us as to exactly what she intended. "Do you mean your labia?" I asked.



"Duh. What other lips, besides those on her face, does a girl have?"



Dry mouthed, I swallowed. "Okay. I just wanted to be sure."



When, even reassured that I'd understood her intention correctly, I hesitated, she said, "Would you rather I do it?"



My answer was to apply the lotion. My thumbs spread the white cream along the slit of her sex, over the pink lips of her cunt, and they were wet, too, I realized, like the flesh of her perineum--but they were wet not with water splashed from the pool but, rather, with her own internal juices. Her cunt was moist with lubricant that she'd supplied herself, from within. She, in her own way, was as aroused as I was in mine.



"Is there anything else I can do for you?" I asked. The words were out of my mouth before I'd known I would say them.



She rose onto her elbows, favoring me with a backward glance through eyes squinted against the glare of the sun. "Such as?"



"Anything."



She smiled, and her angel's face was radiant. "How about rubbing some more lotion onto me?"



I frowned. "More lotion?" That wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind.



Her smile broadened, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. "A different kind of lotion," she said.



I returned her smile with a grin of my own. "If you mean what I think you mean, I have plenty--all you could want."



"I doubt you have that much," she answered.



I looked her body up and down. "Where do you want it?"



"All over," she said. "Everywhere."



I guess it was bound to happen. Sooner or later, we were all but destined to become lovers. How could we not become intimate, with my sister running around naked in front of me all the time, since she'd first been able to toddle around by herself? As I'd watched her growing up, blossoming and maturing, I'd entertained thoughts, secretly, about her. I'd masturbated many times--countless times--with images of her, naked, in mind, longing to touch and to hold, to kiss and caress, the forbidden fruit--or the forbidden fruits--of her body--her full lips; the small, round moons of her luscious breasts; her perfect, pink pussy; her glorious, full, firm, sleek ass; her long, tapering legs. I'd craved the chance to transform mere adjectives into sensations, desire into knowledge, fantasy into experience.



Ellen had, indeed, become a woman; her body left no doubt about that--but, at the same time, she'd retained the innocent look of the teenager. Her hair was as soft and lustrous as a girl half her tender age, highlighted by sun and shadow rather than chemicals. Her skin was as flawless and smooth as a fourteen-year-old girl's, and her gaze, like her facial features, held the clear and guileless look of a childlike purity seen less and less often in young women past puberty. Her breasts were high, firm, and tight, yet buoyant, and the nipples were pink and puffy like gumdrops. Her tummy was concave, its navel a dimple. Ellen kept her pubes shaved to reveal the little cleft at the center of her groin. Her legs were lean, but shapely, like those of a girl who was four, or even six, years her junior. Her little bottom was full, but firm and tight.



Looking at my sister made me want to hug and kiss her, just as it made me want to spank and fuck her. It was odd how Ellen's nubile nudity brought out such opposite and contradictory impulses, but it was also a fact. I wanted to make love to her, but I also wanted to hurt her. Maybe violence was always part of sex, an undercurrent to lovemaking.



Ellen slipped off the raft and waded to the aluminum stepladder attached to the side of the pool. I watched her sleek, tight ass sash shay back and forth as, hips swiveling and leg muscles flexing, she climbed the rungs and stepped onto the deck, her nude body gleaming with coursing, dripping water. She crossed the deck, slid open one of the French doors that led into the living room, and, still dripping water, crossed the carpet to the hall that led to my parents' bedroom. I followed her lead, and, in but a few moments, I stood alongside her.



"Wow!" she said, her eyes widening at the sight of my erection, jutting against the fabric of my swimsuit. "You really are anxious do so something for me, aren't you?"



"I am," I admitted. I took my sister in my arms, drawing her to me. Her perfect breasts flattened between us, and my hands, cupping her buttocks, made deep, white indentations in her tanned flesh. My mouth found hers, our lips met, and we exchanged a kiss. Ellen felt wonderful in my arms; she felt wonderful in my hands, too. Sister or not, I wanted to fuck her more than I'd ever wanted to do anything else in my life.



I slipped my tongue into her mouth, where all was wet and warm, and my oral member probed and swirled about hers. Our kiss, deep and wet, enflamed the lust within me even more, and I gripped her ass cheeks tightly.



She stepped back, frowning. "Ouch! I want you to make love to me, Drake, not manhandle me!"



"Sorry, sis. I guess I got a little carried away. You're so beautiful."



"And I'd like to stay that way, so handle the package with care."



"I will," I promised, rubbing her gently where I'd gripped her so fiercely a moment before.



I have to admit that I was surprised at my sister's audacity in having chosen my parents' bedroom as the site at which she wanted to lose her virginity--her sibling virginity, that is. I had no illusions that Ellen was, otherwise, sexually experienced.



My Mom had spent an exorbitant amount of money on the king-size four-poster with intricate, hand-carved posts, headboard, and footboard. The scenes depicted in these carvings had surprised me (but not Ellen). They showed nymphs fleeing from satyrs, the latter of whom had astonishingly long, thick erections jutting upward from their furry groins. Their chests and abdominal muscles were evident, as were the sinews of their thighs and buttocks. The nymphs were naked and nubile, with small, but womanly, breasts, boyish hips, round buttocks, and downy pubes through which the dimples of their sex were clearly visible. Behind them, great trees spread a canopy of foliage. 



"I still can't believe Mom would buy such a thing," I told Ellen, surveying these wild, sylvan scenes of imminent ecstasy.



"As hard as it may be for you to believe," my sister replied, "Mom's a woman, Drake."



I shook my head. "I know, but I still can't believe she'd buy something like this--or that Dad would have agreed to keep it."



"I have some more news for you, brother of mine: Dad's a man. Men and women have sex; that's how they become parents."



"Speaking of becoming parents," I said, "there's no chance that you--that we--"



"Who said I was going to fuck you?"



"You did."



"I didn't."



"You implied it."



"In your dreams."



"Then what are we doing here, in Mom and Dad's bedroom, with you naked?"



"I'm always naked, Drake, in case you haven't noticed."



I grinned. "I've noticed, all right. I just never took you for a tease."

<hr pg="2" />"I'm not a tease, Drake, but there are lots of things a guy and a girl can do without fucking each other. Take off those trunks, and I'll show you what I mean."



Slipping a thumb into either side of the elastic waistband, I lowered my trunks over my thighs, past my knees, and down my calves, stepping out of them. I stood naked, like Ellen, with my stiff, hard cock pointing toward the ceiling.



Ellen gave my prick an admiring gaze. "Finally," she said, smiling, "I get to see you nude. You have quite an impressive package, bro."



Embarrassed, I blushed. Although I'd seen Ellen naked for years, this was the first time she'd ever see me completely nude. "Thanks," I muttered.



She patted the side of our parents' bed. "Sit," she instructed.



I did as she'd told me, and she knelt on the carpet at the side of the bed, between my legs. She took my cock in her soft, dainty hand, her slender fingers closing about the firm shaft as she made a fist. A thrill, like a bolt of electricity, flashed up my spine, and I gasped. The forbidden nature of what Ellen and I were doing together excited me as much as the touch of her hand upon my erection. My sister had my prick in her hand! The thought was intensely erotic, enough by itself, almost, to make me cum.



She smiled up at me, and another electric thrill surged through me. Seeing my sister's beautiful, but familiar--and familial--face inches away from my cock was astonishingly erotic--not merely naughty, but taboo. As she watched me watching her, she licked the underside of my glans with the tip of her moist, pink tongue. Then, bending forward, she bowed her head, and, parting her soft, luscious lips, took my rigid prick into the warm-soft-wetness of her mouth.



Her head bobbed up and down, her lips riding the sleek flesh of my swollen, stiff-standing cock. Her cheeks were concave as she created suction within her mouth, the better to embrace my penis as she face-fucked me. The circle of her lips slid down, down, down my erect penis, then slid back up, to the tip. At the apogee of her ascent, she paused, letting my prick slide free of her lips, to kiss the crown of my cock. Again, she licked my purple gumdrop-glans with obvious relish, as if my cock were a candy cane topped with a sugarplum.



All I could think of as Ellen continued to minister to me was that she's my sister! What we were doing wasn't right. It was sinful. It was wicked. It was forbidden. It was taboo. We shouldn't be here, like this, doing this. It was wrong.



Instead of making me feel ashamed, however, these thoughts merely enflamed the lust I felt for my sister. My cock, already stiff, became even more rigid; already swollen, it expanded still further.



I looked down, past my chiseled chest, past my six-pack abs, past the tangled thicket of my pubic hair, to Ellen's lovely face--the face of my sister--with her pink, soft lips a ring around my erection, her face full of my cock, her blue eyes smiling at me as she held my gaze with her own, a partner in our transgression, in our sin, in our passion, as aware as I that we were out of all bounds, social, moral, religious, and otherwise. I loved her more, in that moment, than I'd ever loved her before in my life, for she was, in a wholly new and complete way, mine as she'd never been mine before. She wasn't merely my kid sister anymore; she'd become my paramour.



As I watched, she slowly lowered her head, the ring of her lips sliding down, over the taut skin of my rigid shaft, until they kissed my balls. She'd deep-throated me, taking my manhood into her mouth--and gullet--to the very hilt. Her nose pressed firmly against my groin, and her chin bumped my perineum. Although this was the first time she'd ever serviced me, it was obvious that Ellen--dear, sweet, angelic Ellen--had sucked many a cock (or had sucked a few cocks many a time) before now.



She held her position for several seconds, her throat enveloping my cock as if it were a second vagina, her nose pressed firmly to my groin, her chin nestled against my thighs. All I could see were the top of her head, with her lustrous hair parted in the middle, her forehead, and the bridge of her nose. The lower half of her face was lost to view, shoved into my pubes and groin and thighs. She looked very beautiful in such a pose, I thought. I'd love to have a picture of her like this. Lacking a camera, I sought to etch every detail of this moment in my memory.



Ellen lifted her head, allowing my prick to slide a couple of inches back up her esophagus, before pausing to give her head a series of quick shakes, as if she were a bitch worrying a bone. The side-to-side movements of my cock, quick and short, inside her mouth and throat, were new sensations to me. Always, whether masturbating or fucking, my cock experienced an up-and-down or a back-and-forth motion. This side-to-side movement was new, and, therefore, especially exciting, to me. I had my sister to thank for teaching me a new trick. I had the feeling that Ellen would prove to be a source of endless novelty when it came to pleasuring her brother. Well, I told myself, I was up to it.



As if to prove the veracity of my thoughts, Ellen introduced me to yet another new technique. With my cock still filling her mouth and part of her throat, she gathered my balls in one hand, holding the oval testicles together within the palm of her smooth, dainty hand. Using the forefinger of her other hand, extended and erect, as a miniature, makeshift prick, she finger-fucked my scrotum, jabbing fast and hard--and deep--between my balls.



She'd managed to transform the very essence of my manhood into a surrogate cunt. Even as she continued to suck my prick, she'd asserted herself, playing, at once, the roles both of the submissive cock sucker and the aggressive fucker. As her finger poked and thrust between my balls, I experienced the sensations--or some of them, at least--of being fucked. My gracious sister was allowing me to feel what sex was like from both perspectives--that of the male's and that of the female's. While having my cock sucked--especially by my gorgeous sister--was incomparable, I had to admit that, if being fucked felt anything like being jabbed in the scrotum, between the balls, by my sister's finger, it wouldn't be bad to be a girl, either.



After finger-fucking my scrotum for several minutes, while my cock was deep in her mouth, Ellen lifted her head again, this time letting my penis slide completely free of her mouth. A strand of saliva stretched between her lips and my glans, a span of spittle that connected us, face to cock. She smiled at me as she removed her forefinger from its place between my balls. She licked her finger, her smile widening.



"Why'd you stop?" I asked. "What you were doing felt wonderful."



"I want you to fuck me."



"I don't want to get you pregnant."



"If I weren't on the pill, you might, but I am. Besides, it's not my pussy I want you to fuck; it's my ass."



My eyes went wide. "Your ass?" My little sister was fun of surprises.



"You have a problem with that?"



"No problem at all."



We rose, kissed for a moment, and climbed back into bed. Ellen positioned herself upon her elbows and knees, with her long, slender legs wide spread. Her tight, smooth buttocks, girlishly small, were slightly parted, but not enough for me to glimpse my target. No matter, I thought. I'd see plenty of her snug little asshole soon enough, as I watched my big, hard cock slide back and forth inside my sister's bottom.



"Mom keeps a tube of K-Y Jelly in her nightstand," Ellen informed me.



I sprawled across the mattress. Edging forward another few inches on my belly, my hard cock rubbing against the comforter covering my parents' bed. I grabbed the knob on the nightstand on Mom's side of the bed, and tugged the drawer open. Sure enough, there was a tube of the lubricant inside. "How did you know that?"



Ellen didn't rely. Maybe she thought the answer should be self-evident. Obviously, my sister had been in my parents' bedroom before.



Would she know what Dad had in his nightstand, too? Probably, she would. Maybe I should ask her. No, I decided. I didn't want to know.



A sudden thought struck me with horror. What if Ellen had been in my room? What if my little sister had snooped through my belongings, the way she'd obviously poked around among Mom's--and probably Dad's--things? The thought of her leafing through the semen-stained pages of one of my issues of Family Nudists or Incestuous Relationships was too mortifying to consider. Worse yet, what if she'd discovered my collection of the photographs I'd taken of her?



If Mom and Dad--or Ellen--had ever suspected the true motive for my sudden interest, at fourteen, in photography, they'd never mentioned or even hinted at their thoughts. They'd purchased the equipment I requested, for birthday and Christmas presents, and I'd devoted myself to the art and science of photography ever since, winning several prestigious awards and cash prizes for my efforts. I was adept at developing my own film, too, and, over the years, I'd put my talents to use in secretly filming my nudist sister.



I had quite an extensive collection of Ellen. Some included pictures of her friends, taken surreptitiously during my sister's all-girl pool parties or sleepovers. Ellen was popular, and she had a lot of friends. Most were girls, although she could be friends --and more than just friends--with any boy in school with whom she wanted to have such a relationship.



At eighteen, she was in her last year of high school, but she still had an occasional pajama or pool party, and, needless to say, I continued to update my collection. It was as a result of my photographic obsession with capturing Ellen and her friends in the nude that I'd learned that my sister is bisexual. Some of the pictures I'd taken of Ellen might have been called Ellen, Face-Down in Pussy or Ellen, Tongue in Cheeks or Ellen, Wearing a Strap-on.



A series showed Ellen performing cunnilingus on a brunette cutie named Elizabeth. My sister's face, shining with her lover's cunt juices as she laps away at her female lover's stiff clit is a work of art, as is the portrait of Ellen, naked as always, her boobs, full, firm, high, and round, sucked by a blonde bombshell while Ellen receives oral sex from a dripping-wet redhead with a bald pussy.



Of course, I never mentioned my collection to Ellen or anyone else. Like my magazines, the portfolios of my sister, whether simply nude or in lesbian couplings of various types, are mine exclusively, and they're not to be shared with anyone else.



The thought that Ellen might have found my cache of photographic delights was disturbing, but it was also sexy. Maybe she knew of my fascination with her. Maybe she'd just discovered my obsession and her awareness of my secret had given her the courage to make the sexual advances toward me that she'd made this morning as we were, in her words, "pooling around." If so, I thanked the impulse to photograph her naked and involved in her lesbian trysts, for the impulse had paid off handsomely.



As I'd thought of the magazines and photographs, I'd unscrewed the cap from the K-Y Jelly tube and squeezed a generous amount of the white cream onto my palm, lubricating my sister's tight anal opening with the lotion-like unguent. I did the same with my cock before recapping the tube and setting it aside. Then, I took my place between Ellen's spread legs, admiring her cute bottom.



Taking my erection into my fist, I pointed the glans between her parted buttocks, and eased my hips forward, driving the tip of my K-Y Jelly-smeared cock into the circle of her well-lubricated anus. My prick slid right through, all the way in, to my very balls, without the least resistance. Thank God for K-Y Jelly! I thought.



Although my prick had slid into my sister's bowels without any impediment, her asshole was tight and snug around my organ. As I withdrew, the tight circle of muscle rode the shaft of my cock, and, as I thrust home again, the ring popped inside her anus. As my cock reemerged, the hoop of her anal sphincter followed, her close-fitting asshole making a tight seal between her ass and my cock.



I started slowly, working my hips in long, measured strokes that filled and refilled my sister's impaled buttocks, flattening her buoyant, bouncing buttocks before my thrusting hips and watching them rebound as I retreated in preparation for the next forward plunge into her ass. After half a dozen strokes, I let my cock slide all the way of my sister's fanny.



Looking down, I could see how my cock had stretched her anus; her asshole, completely round, was the size of a golf ball! I could see down, into her cored interior, several inches, until the pink tissues were lost to the darkness farther along her bowel. The thought that it had been I, Ellen's brother, who'd stretched her tight little asshole to such dimensions made me feel powerful, virile, and manly. Without conscious thought or intent, I began to fuck Ellen faster, harder, deeper, driving my penis into her asshole with a force and energy that drove grunts and groans from her.



I looked past her skewered ass, to her face, and I saw that her pretty features were screwed into a frown. Her normally smooth brow was furrowed, and her eyes were closed. Her mouth was a grimace. She looked as if she might be in pain. I started to ask her if she were all right, if she wanted to quit, but I was afraid she might say she wanted to stop--and I didn't, even if she was feeling discomfort or, for that matter, pain. If she wanted me to quit, she'd have to tell me; I wasn't going to put any ideas in her head that might not be there. If she asked me to stop, if she begged me to quit, I would, although with reluctance.



My cock slammed into Ellen's ass, plunging through her sphincter and deep into her rectum, sliding friction-free through the K-Y Jelly, sis' asshole making occasional slurping and farting sounds as my pubes and hips slapped sharply against the cushions of her sleek buttocks.



Half-mad with lust, my only object now was to lunge and plunge, sending my member as deep and fast and hard as possible into my sister's cock-crammed ass. Her sobs and squeals and moans and gasps were all but inaudible to me now, seized as I was with mindless passion.



My body was a machine, my prick a piston, my balls the gears that drove the engine toward the completion of its task. Wham! Bam! My manhood drove past the silken, inner curves of Ellen's smooth ass cheeks. My member filled her so that she gasped and squirmed, her breasts bouncing and jiggling beneath her. Slam! My balls collided again with her perineum as my prick slid far into my sister's innermost depths. I drew my hips back, watching my cock slide rearward, through my sister's impaled anus, and my member came fully into view, allowing me to glance, as before, into Ellen's wide-reamed asshole, past the pink walls of her rectum, into the darkness at the depths of her bowels. Beauty, I thought, was not skin deep, not when one was looking into the anal passage of someone as gorgeous as my sister.



I reinserted my prick. It slid into her butt hole as easily as if my sister's asshole was a wet-and-ready cunt, and I continued to pound her, thrusting my penis back and forth inside her anus. She winced and moaned. She squirmed and swayed. Her tits bounced beneath her, and his ass cheeks flattened and rebounded again and again as, mercilessly, I fucked her as hard and fast as I could move my hips. To me, I seemed to move in a blur, although, I'm sure, I didn't really move quite that fast. Then, half way back, I paused, with half the length of my swollen, rigid cock buried inside my sister's ass, and began, rapidly, to deliver quick, short, jabbing thrusts of my cock into her bottom, eliciting more cries and moans from my dear, impaled sister.



Slap! My pubes smacked Ellen's ass. Whap! My groin drove hard into the cushions of her buttocks. Bap! My lower belly slammed into my sister's rear end. Each time, my prick plunged deep into her bowels, and she gasped or moaned, squirming. It dawned on me, finally, that Ellen, despite her experience with sex, might be an anal virgin. She might never have had a cock up her ass before.



The thought that I, her brother, was taking her anal cherry enflamed my lust even more, and I felt a wringing sensation deep inside my balls. Abruptly, semen surged up, through my prick, and I withdrew my manhood from my sister's ass entirely, letting the warm, white streamers of my viscid semen unfurl above her silken, ivory mounds. Blast after blast of the thick fecundating fluid splattered against her ass cheeks, her huge-stretched, round asshole, her perineum, and her thighs.



Mom and Dad returned home a half an hour later. By then, Ellen was in her room, naked, as always, having taken a quick shower, and I was in my bedroom, flipping through my collection of magazines and glamour photographs, trying to determine whether Ellen had examined them in my absence. I decided to add some new pictures, taken with Ellen's knowledge and consent, of us making love. How I'd like to have had a few dozen photographs of her with my cock in her mouth and up her ass.



"Drake! Ellen!"



It was my father's voice, and his tone told us that we were in trouble. "Come downstairs at once!"



I met Ellen as we were heading down the hallway. She was naked, of course, as always. As I followed her down the stairs, I watched her sweet, tight ass, thinking how, less than an hour ago, I was fucking her between those silken cheeks.



Dad was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs. Mom stood beside him. Neither of them was wearing a friendly face.



"What is it, Daddy?" Ellen asked.



Mom held something up for us to see. In horror, I realized it was her tube of K-Y Jelly--the same one I'd used to lubricate my cock and Ellen's asshole. I'd forgotten to return it to the drawer in her nightstand. I'd also forgotten to replace the cap.



"The next time you decide to use my K-Y Jelly without my permission," Mom said, looking back and forth from Ellen to me, "at least have the decency to put the cap back on the tube and return it to my drawer."



Oh, my God! I thought. Mom and Dad knew that Ellen and I had had sex!



"And change the bedding," Dad added.



"I'm sorry," Ellen said.



"Are you on the pill?" Mom asked Ellen.



"Yes, Mom."



Mom shook her head. It seemed that she wanted to say something else--maybe a lot more--but she merely sighed instead.



Dad tried to sound angry again as he told my sister, "For God's sake, put some clothes on!" but both Ellen and I could tell he wasn't mad any longer.



"Okay," Ellen agreed.



But, of course, she didn't.



Thank God.



The next time Ellen and I made love, though, we were careful to return the K-Y Jelly, cap in place, to Mom's nightstand, and we washed the bedding, as Dad had asked us to do.



Our parents never said anything more about Ellen and me "pooling around." 

